(no subject)
Who: Goss, Subby, and the Vongola Family
Where: The Vongola room
When: Early on in the film noir event
Rating: Uhh. PG? Maybe R later.
Summary: Goss wants to show the world that he's no ordinary snowflake.
The Story:
It was a quiet day. The sun shone in like some sort of blessing from whatever god was popular these days. The wind was steady and light, a gentle touch like a woman's on a fine spring day.
I stood outside the door of the Vonogla family, chewing on my cigar. I had to admit that I was disappointed. As far as ads for employment went, mine had been rather ignored. Maybe people were intimidated, and really, who could blame them? Or maybe there wasn't any need for people like me in the world anymore.
But that's a load of bull. If the world wanted to believe it, then fine. They might think they don't need me- but I'm hardly done with them, am I? And the Vongola family was a good place to start.
I turned to Subby, who had a camera in his hand. I saw the red light come on, signaling that the video was now broadcasting. Time to show the world what kind of monsters we have for sale.
The sound of leaves rustling in the wind made its way to the corridor. The sound of birds chirping in the air. It was a calm and peaceful day, loaded with promise.
Fuck.
That.
Shit.
Goss pulled out a .45 caliber Tommy Gun from beneath his trench coat. All fifty rounds of its drum magazine were loaded with full metal jacket bullets- designed not to kill, but to pass through people and objects, causing as much damage and pain as possible.
With a sound like a train being thrown off the tracks, or a jackhammer, Goss began to spray every inch of the Vongola room with bullets half an inch wide. The sound of his cackling laughter soon accompanied the sound of gunfire.
Where: The Vongola room
When: Early on in the film noir event
Rating: Uhh. PG? Maybe R later.
Summary: Goss wants to show the world that he's no ordinary snowflake.
The Story:
It was a quiet day. The sun shone in like some sort of blessing from whatever god was popular these days. The wind was steady and light, a gentle touch like a woman's on a fine spring day.
I stood outside the door of the Vonogla family, chewing on my cigar. I had to admit that I was disappointed. As far as ads for employment went, mine had been rather ignored. Maybe people were intimidated, and really, who could blame them? Or maybe there wasn't any need for people like me in the world anymore.
But that's a load of bull. If the world wanted to believe it, then fine. They might think they don't need me- but I'm hardly done with them, am I? And the Vongola family was a good place to start.
I turned to Subby, who had a camera in his hand. I saw the red light come on, signaling that the video was now broadcasting. Time to show the world what kind of monsters we have for sale.
The sound of leaves rustling in the wind made its way to the corridor. The sound of birds chirping in the air. It was a calm and peaceful day, loaded with promise.
Fuck.
That.
Shit.
Goss pulled out a .45 caliber Tommy Gun from beneath his trench coat. All fifty rounds of its drum magazine were loaded with full metal jacket bullets- designed not to kill, but to pass through people and objects, causing as much damage and pain as possible.
With a sound like a train being thrown off the tracks, or a jackhammer, Goss began to spray every inch of the Vongola room with bullets half an inch wide. The sound of his cackling laughter soon accompanied the sound of gunfire.