Forty-Fourth Drop: avarice (action/videopost)
[The device clicks on to show a mound of dead animals, mostly things like pigeons and feral pets -- things you would find wandering around the City, not so hard to find. They've all been cut open, drained of blood, and thrown into a smelly pile in some run-down, abandoned back alley. There are broken windows and other signs of degradation here; this isn't a good part of town; it isn't somewhere anyone is likely to question a man with a knife and a mission. The screen is spattered with dried blood, and it's hard to see what's going on sometimes, but there is enough of a view to show the guilty party.
Sorrow is holding a cat by its hind legs; its mouth is crudely tied shut with what looks like a few strips of fabric wound around its head. He cuts its throat in a sharp slice despite its resistance, and there is a faint puff of air from the little creature's neck before a stream of blood spurts out into the bucket. He trembles as he waits for it to drain out, then finally lays the cat over the side of the bucket and lets it keep dripping while he goes to get something else.]
More. Must go faster. Hurry up. They'll get to it first if I don't.
[He drags out of the shadows, something wrapped in a sheet. It's big -- human-sized -- and he pulls another bucket out from behind a stack of trash cans and pushes the animal-blood bucket aside.]
Faster. So many targets. Can't let the others get to them.
[He cuts open the sheet, then rips it until it falls back -- and there is a tranquilized man's face. Sorrow doesn't seem fazed at all; his eyes gleam with desperation and his mouth opens a little to show fangs as he flicks the knife in a trained stroke, severing both carotids and the trachea. He dangles the
It's all mine...all mine -- has to be, can't let them have it--
All day, do this all day, can't let them get to it, it's mine!
[He thumps the slashed body over the bucket, letting torrents of blood pour in. Then, he jerks his head up, leaving the body and bucket propped there awkwardly against a wall to balance it, and stares up hungrily at a pigeon sitting on the rooftop.]
One more, get them all, take it all! All of it!
[He aims his gun. The feed cuts to black.]
[ooc: police, have at, everyone else is welcome too. also, murders are mod-approved; this will be the last one.]
Sorrow is holding a cat by its hind legs; its mouth is crudely tied shut with what looks like a few strips of fabric wound around its head. He cuts its throat in a sharp slice despite its resistance, and there is a faint puff of air from the little creature's neck before a stream of blood spurts out into the bucket. He trembles as he waits for it to drain out, then finally lays the cat over the side of the bucket and lets it keep dripping while he goes to get something else.]
More. Must go faster. Hurry up. They'll get to it first if I don't.
[He drags out of the shadows, something wrapped in a sheet. It's big -- human-sized -- and he pulls another bucket out from behind a stack of trash cans and pushes the animal-blood bucket aside.]
Faster. So many targets. Can't let the others get to them.
[He cuts open the sheet, then rips it until it falls back -- and there is a tranquilized man's face. Sorrow doesn't seem fazed at all; his eyes gleam with desperation and his mouth opens a little to show fangs as he flicks the knife in a trained stroke, severing both carotids and the trachea. He dangles the
It's all mine...all mine -- has to be, can't let them have it--
All day, do this all day, can't let them get to it, it's mine!
[He thumps the slashed body over the bucket, letting torrents of blood pour in. Then, he jerks his head up, leaving the body and bucket propped there awkwardly against a wall to balance it, and stares up hungrily at a pigeon sitting on the rooftop.]
One more, get them all, take it all! All of it!
[He aims his gun. The feed cuts to black.]
[ooc: police, have at, everyone else is welcome too. also, murders are mod-approved; this will be the last one.]