I saw it yesterday 8D I alternated between crying and singing along to the songs. And I'm pretty sure I did not cry as hard as a four-year-old when Mufasa died ;.; My six- and four-year-old cousins enjoyed it too, although I hated not being able to say that 'It's gonna be okay' in the stampede scene >.<
Oh wow, you judges don't make this easy for us, do you? Always picking the one I would've voted for... This was an incredibly hard decision, but I ended up with Marushi. Overall, her posts have been consistently good, and this time they were so much fun to read, and her character was great (what can I say, I'm partial to complete psychopaths!) Tummer, I just wanted to say that your posts have been really great too, and I've really enjoyed everything you've done (especially the last challenge 8D). But my guts telling me to go with Marushi, so that's what I'm gonna do.
It's kinda tempting to think of an even longer username now >xD Pokemon rp?
I'm sowwy ;.; But the name is just too awesome to be shortened! *cough*Although I might change it soon for a while >.>*cough*
Me and giving my characters a hero complex... No problem, if we could continue this it'd be a very interesting road ahead of us. (I would like to...
I'm not gonna even bother trying to think of something for my username. But for my real name it would be Xamira.
I turned 20 a couple hours ago. But my birthday isn't till tomorrow. Time-zones ftw!
All those years had passed, and here he was again, being told to run. Brad couldn't believe it. For a few horrible moments he thought his efforts had been for nothing, and the terrifying fate Izzy had laid out for him seemed imminent. To his utmost shock, he found himself laying on a bed of grass and mud, the only fire he could feel on his arm where the rum had dribbled it's way down to soak half of his jacket sleeve. He quickly shrugged the clothing off, beating the fire until it had been extinguished. In a daze he looked at his former hideout, which was currently being inhabited by black flames. He... he let me live?! Brad was very compelled to take Izzy's orders, to turn tail and run to Heather. But then the rational and moral part of his mind butted into the primal instinct, and he realized that he couldn't do that. Not yet. I'm so going to regret this... He was still arguing with himself when he found a spot in his hut that was so burned down, it had made a new entry way to the building. He dove in, covering his mouth with the unburned hand, and tried to see through the smoke. There. He wasn't sure if Izzy was conscious anymore. He didn't know if he was still alive, didn't know if Izzy was still willing to be merciful, but there he still was. Completely aflame. He looked at his injured hand dryly, before using it to grab his nemesis by the shoulder, and half guided, half dragged the man out of the collapsing inferno. With a scream of pain, he dropped Izzy down to the ground, before cradling his hand for what seemed like an eternity. I shouldn't have done this... But if I hadn't I really would have been the monster Izzy thinks I am. Gathering his thoughts back together, he felt his way through his pockets. He almost couldn't believe when he found a napkin that was only slightly charred, and a pencil. As his dominant arm was useless at this point, he wrote his message slowly and with handwriting he was sure his first-grade teacher would have been mortified to witness. Izzy, the real killer is still out there. Go to the most western part of the country, and you'll find out where they are. He paused for a second, contemplated, and went on to add, For what it's worth, I'm sorry. About everything. I never wanted it to come down to this. Your friend, Brad He left the note by Izzy, turned west, and ran.
Thankyouthankyouthankyou for picking up the "I'm gonna collapse the house!"-cue, I wasn't completely sure if I made it clear enough, but I didn't...
OOC: Thankfully my years of reading Stephen King prepared me. A little >.> Also, curse my inability to keep things brief ;.; IC: A mix of emotions quickly ran through him as he listened to Izzy's monologue. Anger, fear, disgust were at the top of his mind for a excruciatingly long time, but soon a sliver of hope made it's way in, which then turned into relief. His tormentor's long speech also gave him some time to let his head stop spinning so much, and a plan started to form. A desperate plan, sure, and it was a long shot, but at least it was a plan. Okay Bradley, time for the show of your life. He'd let his body slump down to the floor again midway through Izzy's rant, and he got up slowly, with an exaggerated stagger, and made his way back to the rifle. "You know what I hated most about these years? It wasn't the fact that one of my best friends had been killed, and I didn't have a chance to mourn her. It wasn't the fact that I had to run away from everything, that I was persecuted by people that had once loved me. It was the fact that you out of all people thought that I was capable of something like that!" His voice started out low, almost mournful, but as he went on, the volume started to rise to the point that he was yelling the last few words. Brad then lifted his rifle again, and charged at Izzy with a hoarse scream. His backhanded swoop missed the supposed target by a mile, in stead hitting the main support beam of the house, causing a slight crack to appear in it. He himself staggered into a stand that inhabited most of his alcoholic possessions, sending a bottle of whiskey to crash down onto the floor, spilling a wide puddle of the amber liquid around the crash site. He turned a hurt gaze towards Izzy again, knowing how little it probably affected things. "She was like a sister to me! I would've rather had died than let anything harm her," he yelled again, punctuating his words with thrown vodka bottle that again missed, in stead crashing at the opposite wall, before continuing, "If it weren't for Heather, I probably would have killed myself because of what happened to Ilya." He picked up a bottle of rum, and broke it above his head on the beam, letting the liquid dribble down the wall. I suppose there were some advantages to buying a house built for midgets after all, he thought bitterly, as he kicked down the stand, letting the rest of his bottles break their way halfway down the room. He quickly examined the broken bottle in his hand, and he forced his voice to calm down a little. "You're right, seeing Heather die would surely break me. There's just a few things your plan seems to ignore," he said, before charging again with the bottle held as a dagger, only to miss again. This time he was back at his dresser, and he let his body hit it with enough force to knock it down to block the only entrance to the room. He lay on the floor for a few seconds, as that last blow had done nothing kind to his ribs, before continuing, "Firstly, Heather may have the attention span of a rabbit, but she isn't stupid. She knows that there's no way you'd spare me, her life sacrificed or not. Besides, she's been a fighter from infant hood, and as painful as ripping nails off may be, it wouldn't break her." A small smirk appeared on Brad's lips, before he went on, "She played you like a fiddle. By the time we're done here she's gotten hell outta Dodge. She'll make it to Greg's in no time, and when those two are done planning, the armies of heaven and hell combined won't be able to keep you from being ripped apart further." He slowly got to his feet again, this time with his hands empty apart from the lighter he'd dug out of his pocket. "Unfortunately, she seems to be assuming the same thing that you are," he flicked the lighter on, "that the two of us are both leaving this room alive." With that, he tossed the lighter into the biggest puddle of alcohol. The room ignited in a few short seconds, the flames quickly climbing the walls and licking the ceiling.
Ouch >.<' I got called Auntie Oops for years. Because I used that expression the grand total of one time during elementary school >XP Oh, my opinions suck that much, huh? jk
Wait, was that someone's nickname for you *confused* First one is pretty nice.
Hey, you're just nine months younger than me, grandpa =P Yeah, not much of a difference '>.>
Thursday's always a good day for me 8D I used to have my theater classes then back home, here I have my improv class that day 8D Also, I can call myself a teenager for only another two days O_O' I'm not sure if I'm excited or bummed by that.
OOC: Actually, I had wanted to let poor Heather out of her cage, but oh well. With your post, Brad definitely makes more sense... IC: Run. A very simple word, that had completely destroyed Brad's life. A word that had been uttered to him with a sneer over the dead body of a girl he had known since what seemed like forever. He hadn't gone running, at first. He had kneeled over the body in shock, not even remembering why he was there to begin with. Only when he had heard Izzy enter the room, seen him losing his mind in a mere second right before his eyes, seen the accusation, the unadulterated hate, had Brad started to run. He had been on the run for years, finally settling to stay in a cabin quite literally falling apart around him, his only contact to the outside world being through a secured radio channel only he and Heather knew about. His life had been dominated by fear of this very moment, and when he saw Izzy appear suddenly in the middle of his rotting living room, that fear reached it's peak. His mind only had time to ask How? before he felt a burning grip on his throat throwing him violently to the floor. Time seemed to slow down for him, as his mind started registering an immense amount of pain. His thoughts started darting around, thinking of ways to get out of this situation. He wouldn't get far running, talk would probably not even be heard. Of course, he could fight, and lose his life in a matter of seconds. His eye-sight caught up with his thoughts, and he finally noticed that Izzy seemed to be aflame. The fire looked absolutely bizarre, and in other circumstances he would've found it fascinating, but today, all he could do was fear it. Oh God I wish Heather was here... Fear turned into panic in a fraction of a second. Heather was the only person who knew where he was, and there was no way she would've just given his location to Izzy, knowing firsthand the history between the two men. Heather had been his only friend since Ilya's death, the only one who had believed Brad to be innocent. She had been risking her life merely by knowing him, and Brad owed her his life. If Izzy was here now, it had to mean that she in serious trouble. She's probably dead now because of you. Panic made way for anger, as an adrenaline rush gushed through his veins, pushing aside the pain. He got to his feet, avoiding the katana, and found them to be surprisingly steady, as he stared Izzy down. "What did you do to her?!" He was slightly surprised by the lack of rasp in his voice, the way it echoed in his little hut. He felt his anger feed him, and he found himself wanting to fight. I need a weapon. He didn't need to look around to know that he had a rifle about two feet behind him. Unfortunately, the weapon had absolutely no ammo, but at least he could use it as a club. He sprung to action, flinging himself towards the wall behind him to grab the rifle leaning to an empty dresser, then using the momentum to push himself towards Izzy, lifting his arm to deliver a backhand stroke with his makeshift club. I may die tonight, but I sure as hell am not going down without a fight. Heather, I'm coming for you.
Let's hunt him down and beat him with our keys and heart!
I pretty much fell in love with Zack Fair two years ago, and I still haven't gotten over it >.< Double win for the Rent reference 8D *has a song to sing for the rest of the night*
Thanks, will get to it when I get off work!
I'm sleepy...
Plot number 1 was the clear winner, so we shall be going with that. Here's a refresher for Peace-and-War's great idea: This thread is for discussion about the overall plot-line and to decide on a few core characters. Once we've gotten those decided we'll decide on the writing order, and start the writing process. PS. I'm terribly sorry about slacking off with the maintenance of this group, I know it's not really an excuse but I've been busy with moving, my great-aunt having surgery (and the extra baby-sitting hours that brought), getting my drivers license, classes, and the assortment of injuries and sicknesses I seem to attract like a magnet. I'll try to be a little more hands on from now on (and not give dead-lines I can't clearly keep >.<). Hopefully we can get this in order soon and start writing!
