(Untitled)

[dumber_n_hell]

It had come down to this.  The finality of it was acute and clear.  Carla Jean had been made to live and she would, but her husband would not. That had been decided from the start.

Standing in the doorway of their home, Chigurh had lifted the gun and aimed, his left arm throbbing sharply as it held the weight.  He'd gotten off one shot and watched as

Comments

Llewelyn and Moss Shootout Thread

[dumber_n_hell]

Fire exploded along his left shoulder blade. He could feel it. The spray of hot blood and the shatter of bone. Llewelyn Moss gritted his teeth and groaned, panted for a breath or two, and then stumbled up the steps and through the front door.

Damn. He liked that shirt. It was a good shirt. A good arm too but now he couldn't hardly lift it for the pain. "You're in deep shit," he hissed at himself, his boots echoing, scuffing across the floor as he made his way toward the steps. He'd made a mistake, stepping into a place like this, people all around, but it wasn't really up to him.

Hell, that sure was a load a horseshit. The choice'd been made, everything that happened now was nobody's fault but his own.

Re: Llewelyn and Moss Shootout Thread

[just_call_it]

The gun loaded, Chigurh followed. Twigs crunched underfoot until the ground gave way and smoothed out to shorter grass. Chigurh walked with purpose toward the building, pausing at the doorway, footfalls quiet on the dirty ground. He leaned against the frame, head turned and gun held close, one finger on the trigger.

Moss was wounded. His shot had been good.

But, Chigurh was also injured and his patience was beginning to wear thin.

He eased through the door gun first, the denim of his jacket brushing the wooden frame as his eyes scanned the large, empty room and slowly slipped inside. There was a flicker of movement at the top of the stairs and Chigurh moved forward and took the first step, his eyes trained upward and gun at the ready.

Re: Llewelyn and Moss Shootout Thread

[dumber_n_hell]

Llewelyn's boots stopped at the top of the stairs, blood streaked up the banister, he took a breath, and turned to fire down the stairs. Blindly. Wildly. Meant to hold the other man off more than he intended to kill. There was someone screaming down the hall. A woman. Yelling. Doors slamming.

If he got lucky, if he landed a shot, he sure as hell wasn't gonna complain.

[just_call_it]

The banister splintered at the impact, loose shards flying and Chigurh ducked, his arm throbbing as it collided with the wall and then continued walking, gun ready.

He slowed at the top of the stairs and listened. He heard doors slamming and people yelling and listened more closely for harsh breaths and the sound of dripping blood. There was a sound from below and Chigurh turned to look a second before pain erupted across his thigh. He moved then, up the last step and into the nearest room, but not before getting off one wild shot, aimed low.

The room he found himself in was empty, but clearly lived in. Chigurh stayed pressed against the wall with the door opened to his left. Blood seeped through denim. He ignored the pain.

Ysandre and Joscelin

[queenysandre]

The day had been typical of most days on the island, although with some amount of heightened tension due to the presence of a killer somewhere in their midst. A call had been made for everyone to venture out as little as possible, and Ysandre had taken heed to that, not wanting to take unnecessary risk and knowing it would have worried her Champion to see her out of doors at such a potentially dangerous time

Re: Ysandre and Joscelin

[incassielsname]

I wished to speak with Ysandre, hoping that perhaps she could not only offer me some perspective on how to deal with Hyacinthe being gone, but also hoping that perhaps I could find some serenity and peace in her presence. I made my way to the Boarding House to speak with her, and noticed a great commotion

Re: Ysandre and Joscelin

[queenysandre]

Ysandre's grasp on consciousness was a fragile one, but she recognized well enough the voice of the man who had saved her life, not so very long ago. At his direction, she struggled to right herself, and in doing so a shockwave of pain went through her with astonishing force, and she was scarcely able to move.

"Jo-Joscelin...I ca...I can't..." Her once cool and commanding voice was a hoarse whisper, every word a struggle, as she looked up into the face of her Champion, fighting to stay alert.

Re: Ysandre and Joscelin

[incassielsname]

I have seen the dead and dying, and I have, more oft than not, been the cause of it. I have seen it, men and women both struck down, be they innocent or guilty; I have seen it, and to this day, it still haunts me. I may not know the names of all of the dead, but I see their faces. I know the face of death, and it shakes me, hits me to the core, that I look down at Ysandre and see somewhat that I recognize, from battlefields and snow-covered mountains and Elua help us, the women of the zenana, killed fighting for their freedom from evil.

This cannot come to pass. It cannot. I may be sworn into Phedre's service, as it were, but I am now and will always be Queen's Champion, and as much as it is my duty to keep Phedre from harm, you could say I have the same duty to my queen, and it appears I have already failed. "Shh," I say, jamming my daggers back into the sheaths at my side as I press a bit harder, trying desperately to stop the blood. "Don't move on your own, I just -- I need to --" There was no choice; I may have been able

Cole and Jack

[song_n_dance]

Cole was in his room in the boarding house, trying without much luck to work on the second verse to a song that was giving him fits. The melody was beautiful and yet the words--trite and cheesy and completely wrong. Completely worthless. Sighing, he stepped outside his room, his notebook tucked underneath his arm, intent on heading to the Compound for use of the piano.

No sooner did he walk into the main room that he heard a scream--a woman's scream--and in what probably amounted to a foolhardy move, took another step, trying to discern from which direction it came. It was only then that he heard gunfire, a rain of gunfire, the sound registering just barely before the blinding pain in his left arm. He stumbled backwards, glancing up just long enough to see a shadowy figure at the top of the stairs, but as he clamped his right hand over the source of the pain and it came away dripping with blood, everything started to get a little fuzzy.

He'd heard shrieks, and realized vaguely that one of them was his as he crumpled to the

Re: Cole and Jack

[captainjack]

Jack had been in the kitchen when he took note of the commotion with members of the IPD. After a minute he left to go outside and see what was up and immediately heard gunfire. A lot of gunfire. His first thought was of John and he broke into a flat out run, heading toward it.

By the time he reached the boarding house, whatever was going down was done and there was no sign of the other Time Agent and nothing about the scene gave him any reason to think this had had anything to do with him. He still had a total adrenaline rush. Jane. Cole. Fuck.

With any luck, Jane had been over in her own hut, so the first room he went to was Cole's and was greeted by a bloody figure on the floor. He rushed over and dropped to one knee. Cole was still breathing, so that was a good sign.

"Hey," he said, turning him a little. "You're hit. Let me see."

Re: Cole and Jack

[song_n_dance]

Cole blinked at him. "Oh hello, Jack," he said, sounding dazed. "I think... I think I may have been shot."

He lifted his hand from where it had been clamped down on his injured arm, bright red blood staining his white shirt and dripping between his fingers.

Re: Cole and Jack

[captainjack]

"I think you're right," Jack replied calmly. "Let's see how bad."

He reached up carefully and took hold of Cole's sleeve, and with one strog pull he tore it open. It was bleeding, and pretty bad, but it wasn't the worst thing Jack had seen.

"Just here, or anywhere else," he asked, tearing the sleeve down to the cuff, which he ripped off and tossed aside.

[alaspoorwarrick]

I'm outside with second drink and a fine-looking lady when I hear it. No mistaking it for anything but what it is, you know, especially not on a quiet tropical island.

My glass hits the ground and shatters - I'll apologize later - and I'm off at a run toward the shots before it registers I don't have a piece. Hell, I'm skidding to a stop not far from the two-story building where shots were still being fired, when I reach to pull it out of my waistband and realize it's not there.

"Damn." From here I can make out half the shooters, but I got no gun and no idea who's who even if I did. I can't just stand here, you know? It's not who I am. I'd run for the IPD but for all I know they're already here.

So I move carefully closer, keeping to cover, watching, committing details to memory. They're gonna need witnesses, and CSIs.

Just Austin

[skybot_snd]

It had started here. It would end here.

It made only thematic sense, there was no tangible logic to it, but the T-1000 knew it was how it would go.

Fate, was it?

He still didn't believe in it.

He did believe in purpose.

He had split from the main group, taking the second staircase. And there was his target.

Him.

The T-1000 didn't have his name. He didn't need it. They'd shared one conversation, and it was enough. He recognized him. Knew him.

One wrong move and he breached the silence he'd attempted to maintain, finding himself fleetingly catching the killer's gaze. There was no thinking, only instinct. He took aim - the angle wasn't optimal - pulled the trigger. A lone shot rang out, hitting the man in the thigh, in close proximity to his older injury.

It wasn't good enough.

He prepared to fire again - a shot that would be good enough - but then survival instinct kicked in and he dived sideways, out of the way. There was barely any sound, and for a split second, he thought the other man had missed