[THREAD] i hope you HURT so BADLY
Who: Hidan [ holyish ] & Kazama [ sagittariinae ]
Where: Industrial district, backalleys, TERRA
When: 11:49 PM ; BACKDATED, before Shikamaru's return, after the mall attack
Summary: We all need a scapegoat in times of desperation.
Rating: R for violence
Near midnight in the darker section of Terra found the air full of a tense silence, and the heavy scent of blood. The brick walls on either side of the narrow alleyway were splattered with gore, painted with tracks of visceral fluid, smeared tracks of bloody handprints scrawling long streaks down towards the ground. And the ground of the alleyway was scattered with bodies in varying degrees of destruction -- some with nothing more than bulletholes through the brain, some completely torn to pieces -- all of them dead.
There was the quiet splash of a puddle of blood, as Kazama strode through the alleyway, quietly studying the various bodies to make sure they were all dead. Nudging one particular body onto its back with the tip of his boot, he studied it for a moment, watching to make sure that there was no movement. -- not that this was a task he particularly enjoyed, but jobs were jobs, and he and his men had been assigned to dispose of this group of rowdy thugs. And he really wasn't one to leave any job half-done. His men milled about the alleys, some of them restless now that the job was done with.
"We're done here," Kazama finally said, his words quiet, but carrying a solemn sort of finality. "Make sure you don't leave anything behind, we'll be leaving."
Where: Industrial district, backalleys, TERRA
When: 11:49 PM ; BACKDATED, before Shikamaru's return, after the mall attack
Summary: We all need a scapegoat in times of desperation.
Rating: R for violence
Near midnight in the darker section of Terra found the air full of a tense silence, and the heavy scent of blood. The brick walls on either side of the narrow alleyway were splattered with gore, painted with tracks of visceral fluid, smeared tracks of bloody handprints scrawling long streaks down towards the ground. And the ground of the alleyway was scattered with bodies in varying degrees of destruction -- some with nothing more than bulletholes through the brain, some completely torn to pieces -- all of them dead.
There was the quiet splash of a puddle of blood, as Kazama strode through the alleyway, quietly studying the various bodies to make sure they were all dead. Nudging one particular body onto its back with the tip of his boot, he studied it for a moment, watching to make sure that there was no movement. -- not that this was a task he particularly enjoyed, but jobs were jobs, and he and his men had been assigned to dispose of this group of rowdy thugs. And he really wasn't one to leave any job half-done. His men milled about the alleys, some of them restless now that the job was done with.
"We're done here," Kazama finally said, his words quiet, but carrying a solemn sort of finality. "Make sure you don't leave anything behind, we'll be leaving."