Author Topic: PARTY HARD! (Everyone) (Read 871 times)
Past Jack Gavyns
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 PARTY HARD! (Everyone)
« Jul 13, 2009 21:32:05 GMT -6 »
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For a full thirty seconds after the crash, Seth sat silently in the van, a fairly neutral expression plastered on his face. Inwardly, however, he was thrilled with what he'd done. Even if the godforsaken music kept blaring, no one would want to stay and party with the risk of getting run over. The various shouts and screams outside the van mostly blended together, forming an indistinguishable mix that made it impossible to pick out any single voice or message. The tapping on the window would cause Seth to glance to his left, recognizing the sociopathic boy with the knife fetish, and found himself smiling softly at the nickname he was given.

"Now there's a name I haven't heard in a long time."

Speaking quietly to himself, Seth would push open the door, catching the very end of the Iranian man's sentence, as well as the predictably dangerous reply from Singing Wolf. Calmly, lit cigarette still hanging from the side of his mouth, Seth would step out of the van, standing just outside the door while leaving it open. Fully intending to reply to the older university student and his squad of helpers, Seth found himself cut off by the one who had let off fireworks on the stage, the gust of wind that accentuated his arrival causing Seth's hair to flow to the side for a moment and forcing him to narrow his eyes in annoyance. The gang member's attitude did not improve with the Samoan's threat, although a smile formed on his face regardless, his head turning to his left slightly in order to direct his comment towards his comrades.

"Did he just say 'the most ass fucker alive'? I guess people can be proud of anything these days."

After taking a deep drag of his cigarette, Seth blew the smoke upwards into the air, letting his hands fall into his pockets. The chance for a fight was over, as far as he was concerned. The two larger men who had spoken in opposition to the Sons of Judas had already proven how wild they were, and so, Seth would choose to point out the obvious to the only vocal enemy who still seemed reasonable; the Iranian.

"I do hate leaving things unfinished, so if you're looking for a fight, I'm afraid we'll have to postpone it for now. The faculty is bound to have heard this party, not least of all with the noise we've made the past few minutes, and with the injuries and calling for teachers that are being shouted out now, they're guaranteed to be on their way. I'd give emergency services three minutes to get here, and our own staff considerably less so, maybe a minute and a half. If you truly want to chat, that's how long you have."

Dropping his hands into his pockets, Seth would sidestep to his left and lean against the side of the van. He had no intentions of running from what he'd done. In fact, he was glad things had gone this far; it made his goals that much closer to being within his reach.

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mir
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 PARTY HARD! (Everyone)
« Jul 14, 2009 10:18:10 GMT -6 »
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Bishop had a knife being pointed at him - well in his general direction, anyways - and that didn't exactly make him feel comfortable. Looking at the shorter male who was more or less threatening him with his lethal weapon, Mir simply pouted. The lad was in no mood to get his hands dirty, but the appearance of this violent lunatic was making him consider the option of turning the knife against its owner within the next three seconds. The question was simple. Should he get physical? He took half a second to think about the proper reaction to such behavior...

Curb-stomp that motherfucker!
Said curbs... absent.
FUCK. Wait, is that the sound of a booze?

Mir guessed that the voice appearing behind him belonged to the sledge-hammer wielding brute from before. The sound of a liquid circulating in a bottle made the Iranian guess that some alcohol was within his ten meter range, reminding him that he was still a completely sober twenty-four year old, a fact that didn't do much to improve his mood. Gritting his teeth, Bishop didn't like how common sense was going out the window with Roth and the Samoan giant ready to engage in hostilities. Oh how he prayed for a voice of reason to help, and how unexpected was its source. As the leader of the troublemakers finished came out and reminded everyone what was probably going on now, Mir brainstormed to get something fruitful out of this desperate situation. And then everything fell into place, there was light at the end of this damned tunnel. With a determined look, Bishop talked.

One minute twenty-two seconds.

"As long as you cover these guys' escape, we're cool for now." Bishop pointed at the crew behind him with his thumb. "The job pretty much involves helping me cause an explosion to distract the staff." Turning his head around to look at the Roth and his associates, Bishop explained himself. "As much as I want to punch this guy in the face, he has a point. You guys will be in trouble if you don't get out of here quickly."

One minute ten seconds.

Looking at the crashed van, Mir had an idea. He turned to face the Irishman behind him. "I'm going to need that bottle of vodka." Mir then looked at the supposed leader of the gang. "I'm Bishop, havoc-bringer for hire. You are?"

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 PARTY HARD! (Everyone)
« Jul 14, 2009 15:35:29 GMT -6 »
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Two more idiots decided to burst onto the scene, the stupid shit coming out of their mouths bringing Singing Wolf to throw a glance towards Will that said "are you serious?" Singing Wolf shook his head to dismiss their idiocy altogether. As the next few seconds went in silence, Singing Wolf felt the weight of the blade in his hand. The question was no longer to throw it or not, but which one first, the stupid one or the fat one?

Seth's words interrupted his own thoughts, however, bringing a grin of extreme amusement to his face. He nodded in agreement with Seth's comment towards Roth, Singing Wolf felt his excitement dull, however, as Seth continued. He was right of course, but it wasn't going to be as much fun. Still, Seth was the practical one, and that's why they typically followed his lead even without the typical hiearchy of a gang.

The Iranian's reaction had surprised Singing Wolf, who had gotten another impression from him. Havoc-Bringer for hire... that could be fun, one way or another. Singing Wolf flipped the knife between his fingers as he stomped his foot on top of the van, looking Bishop in the eye.

"-the mother fuckin' Sons of Judas."

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Andy Daws
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 PARTY HARD! (Everyone)
« Jul 14, 2009 19:32:22 GMT -6 »
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The wrestling Irishman stood for a moment to take in his surroundings. The mockery, the small laugh, the alcohol, the Samoan, and the new talk of blowing something up. It was slightly overwhelming, but one thing he knew was the idiot crawling out of the van was right. Party was over and it was time to clean up these retards mess.

"Your lucky. Sons of Judas eh? I'll keep that in mind. Just make sure you know your enemy."

Whats done is done. Roth looked to Bishop and then Afano. With an unwillingness to let his Iranian associate blow something up, adding to the problem, he wouldn't get in his way. The "Sons of Judas" weren't his problem for now. He looked once more to the Samoan in a nod to get cleaned up.

With a small hop off the stage he motioned to the security to get everything rounded up. The cannons, the lights, and what remained of the electronics. In a matter of seconds everything they brought was packed up. Him and another security guard compacted the foldable stage and loaded it into the van.

With a wave they were all off, heading back threw the unmanned gate and back to the SDCFL Arena. The message of Ground Zero had gotten out and all the evidence was gone. All that remain of something fun was wreckage and carnage. The Sons would pay for it all. But not tonight.

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 PARTY HARD! (Everyone)
« Jul 15, 2009 23:51:06 GMT -6 »
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As before, Will maintained silence for the time being. Not one to waste breath unnecessarily, he believed strongly in the sentiment that if you didn't have something worth saying it was often more good to not bother. However, the presence of their apparent 'opposition' caused him to bite his tongue so strongly he could taste blood as he stifled his amusement.

First this so-called 'Most Bad Ass Mother Fucker Alive', who simply by opening his mouth could've caused Will to hate him on sight under normal circumstances. He looked like the sort to talk a big game, but other than that, the grungy hair and trench-coat just made him look like a bloody sex-offender to the Irishman. He chuckled and rolled his eyes, moving onto the next, and he was tempted to give thanks to whatever god there was for providing him such fine opponents.

Going from someone who appeared like he had good reason to be citing Megans Law to someone who looks like he might have eaten Megan herself, the Irish behemoth looked at the rotund Islander. They probably had similar weight, if edging to Will somewhat, but the Irishman had over a foot of height. Whereas his body was layered with muscle, his opponent appeared to be going for, well, Will could politely refer to it as a 'low centre of gravity'.

Then again, Will wasn't polite, and as the Islander youth presented his tongue (clearly, having had a lot of exercise and likely the lardy youths strongest muscle), Will couldn't hold back the short peal of laughter as he shot back another gulp of the vodka.

"Awright chubs, I'm sure ye're probably hungry, but there'll be pies in the hospital....Haud yer horses, aye?" he shot as one eyebrow flicked up, a smirk adding to his condescension as he watched the rest of the scene unfold. Seth, incidentally, had proven himself quite alive and well and during Wills silent observations had made clear that unfortunately, particularly for Will who was oh-so looking forward to entertaining himself with the chunky one, there was to be no proper fighting. A fair point made, at this point surely someone must've heard what'd gone on by now, and normally the Irishman wouldn't mind but he was still under observation for another eight months. The less he was tied to the better.

He cocked an eyebrow a moment later as he face shifted into incredulity, the Middle-Eastern (though white haired, an oddity) youth had just demanded the vodka in his hand. He snorted in amusement.

"No' fuckin' likely. Take a wee look around an' get yer bloody own, ya cheeky bastard." he fired back, a slight clench of his hand around the neck of the bottle. He'd polished off close to two thirds of the spirit thus far, but it was the principle of the matter.

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 PARTY HARD! (Everyone)
« Jul 16, 2009 16:39:36 GMT -6 »
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"Give him the fucking bottle."

Singing Wolf would sigh as he jumped off the van, walking over to will and whipping his hand towards the bottle. Will was by far stronger than Singing Wolf was, but by pulling the bottle down he expected that the neck of it would slip right down Will's hand and out of his grasp unless he was completely expecting Singing Wolf to steal his goodies. If successful, Wolf would turn and pivot, shoving the bottle into Bishop's chest as he turned back around to face Will.

"Let him play with his fireworks. We have to go. You and me can't be tied to something like this, not this early on."

Singing Wolf would slap his right hand against Will's left shoulder, seemingly friendly but with enough of a smack for the two of them to know better. Singing Wolf would nod towards Seth before turning his glance back to Will one more time before finally making his way away from the accident scene.

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 PARTY HARD! (Everyone)
« Jul 16, 2009 17:36:09 GMT -6 »
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With an exasperated sigh and never one to have much patience to begin with she turned her attention from the kid with the camera with a roll of her eyes, still trying to get the guy that had been knocked out to wake up. With a little difficult and a few curse words on her part, muttered her breath she helped the kid up wanting to slap the punk stupid for not being able to move faster to begin with, maybe if he had he wouldn't be in this situation. When he got to his feet solidly enough she physically took one of his hands and made him take the piece of his shirt and hold it to his head.

She had heard pinky yell for someone to call for an ambulance or something so there was a good chance he would stumble on someone that would really be able to take care of him. Smoothing her palms down her small shirt she dried her hands, noticing immediately after that she had gotten a little blood on herself. Luli actually felt her eye twitch in irritation and with a huff she pushed her hair over her shoulder and eyed the gathering group of jack asses commonly known as males.

Of course she couldn't leave well enough alone could she? Nah...wouldn't be her style so she headed that way keeping a careful watch for their interaction, so far it looked like they were nothing but barking, no actual dog fight starting off yet. She arrived on the edge of the group quick enough to hear chief pow wow saying they needed to go. So smash 'em up and take off, how wonderful...it was like watching the Hulk movie all over again - a waste of her time pretty much.

Luli almost wanted to say something and they looked like their pissing contest had come to a quick close. Stepping up behind Mir and slightly to the side on his right, "well that was fun wasn't it? Gave me a chance to finally play nurse. My night is complete, you guys really know how show a girl a good time."


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 PARTY HARD! (Everyone)
« Jul 16, 2009 19:51:11 GMT -6 »
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Caleb might unintentionally have completely ignored the scanty clothed lady when she had talked to him. Just might have. Well, he had been staring at the group of boys. Just waiting for them to fight. Wanting to see them tear each other a new one. But someone yelling for an ambulance actually did make him snap out of his trance and before he knew of it, he was holding a cellphone to his ear with 911 dialed. This would be the second time within a week Caleb called 911. It didn't bode well for his future if kept calling that number. Sooner or later they would begin to wonder why the same number kept calling them.

"Hey, yeah, we have a lot of injured students here at the Chula Vista Collective. So we need an ambu-" bla bla bla. Uninteresting blabbering from the exiled boy. Once he had told all the necessary details, he hung up. Well-knowing that he ought to have stayed in contact with the operator for advice. But he would much rather pay attention to the boys who were going to fight. But that wasn't going to happen. They just. Fled or talked. Boring like hell.

"There should be an ambulance on its way now" Caleb yelled at no one in particular as he walked/jogged away. Better to get the hell out of there before staff and paramedics arrived.

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Andy Daws
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I'm The Bomb. No, literally, I blow stuff up. With my mind and junk.


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 PARTY HARD! (Everyone)
« Jul 17, 2009 18:01:19 GMT -6 »
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The party was now officially over. Everything was gone. The vans, the stage, the lights, all that was left were the student stragglers, the wrecked van, the Sons of Judas, Bishop, Afano, and Roth himself. The Judas Brothers started to argue amongst them selves about a bottle of Vodka. He watched the scene as Luli came along to Bishop talking about a good time. If they really needed alcohol he would've asked Luli from judging on their first encounter.

Roth went back over to the scene of the gang, the Iranian, and the quiet Samoan. He waited to speak as they stood there with the tension rising in the air. He starred down each of the Judas Brothers, starting with the small one with the knife, then the idiot who drove the van into the stage, and lastly the brute who made Roth feel embarrassed about being Irish.

"Well, the small ones smart. You buncha retards can getta outta here, we'll clean up whats left of your mess. But don't worry, I'm sure we'll all meet again fairly soon, Judas Brothers or whatever the fuck it is."

He was pissed off, but nothing he couldn't handle. They;d get away for now, and Roth would clean up what happened. He couldn't follow them either, with Bishop acting the way he was Roth needed to make sure what he was doing would be something too fucked up.

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