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Writing The Hit: Contracts


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[center][img]http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y82/paertekarka/hit2.jpg[/img][/center]



So. Now that I've finished the first part to my first ever OB epic, I would like to involve all the delightful OB people to help add to my story. Alot of you, who are my friends, are in this story, and we've discussed before how you'd like to elaborate on your own characters.

So here's your chance. Write short stories, back stories, and etc. based around the characters that I wrote for you in [b]The Hit[/b]. Or, if you have yet to be mentioned, create your own character (must be based on yourself in real life) to be included as a character within the storyline. I'll choose the most original and best characters to be included in [b]The Hit II[/b].

So, have fun. Don't be afraid to write some out there stuff. Include characters mentioned in the actual story. There are plenty, believe me. Make the setting past or present. Remember, no one has been listed as officially dead in my little story, so if you want, write how your character survived his/her battle with The Boss and what they did afterwards.

Or write a story about how your character has been involved with the others in the past. It's all up to you, just make it good. Write a continuing series if you wish.

I look forward to what comes out.

- [b]The Boss[/b][/color][/size]
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[center][B][U][FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]Lights, Camera, Action![/FONT][/U][/B]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]Smoke poured from the muzzle of the silenced H&K MK23 handgun, wafting into billowing clouds of white as it dissipated. A crimson stain spread into a strangely beautiful butterfly on the white silk dress as the fabric absorbed the blood that was gushing from the bullet-wound in the victim's chest.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]She looked at me, her crystal blue eyes filling with tears, as if to ask me "why?" I had no answer for her, other than the money that would soon be transferred into my Cayman Islands account. A hand, delicately manicured, clutched at her chest, trying to put pressure on the wound, a last, desperate attempt to stem the flow of blood and save her own life. A futile attempt. She dropped to her knees, and I got to my feet before her, looking down upon her with no emotion showing. As I raised the weapon, she pleaded with me to stop, to let her live, offering me her body, offering me money, offering me anything that she had to offer. Silently I aimed the pistol and fired two shots directly into her head, right between the eyes, so close the bullets would be touching each other. Blood splattered across the perfect white shag carpet of the hotel suite, and her body fell slowly to the ground.[/FONT]

[B][FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]PAUSE[/FONT][/B]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]Hitting the freeze-frame button on the remote, I looked at my work. It was art, pure and simple, the way the blood had splashed across the walls and was now soaking into the deep-pile carpet, it was a thing of beauty.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]I moved closer to the screen, and watched myself, frozen in time, staring down at her gracefully mutilated body, suspended a few inches off the ground. And I smiled. I was a fantastic artist.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]As I moved to press the pause button again to unfreeze the shot and watch the rest of the work of art unfold, a noise came at my apartment door. Sighing, I shut off the video and called out:[/FONT]

[B][FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]"Who is it?"[/FONT][/B]

[B] [FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]"This is the Police. Come out with your hands up and no-one will be hurt!"[/FONT][/B]
[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode][B]"I don't know what I've done, officer,"[/B] I replied, feigning ignorance, [B]"And don't you need a warrant to arrest me?"[/B][/FONT]

[B][FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]"You know exactly what you've done. You are Phil Jackman, also known as "The Director," and you are single-handedly responsible for the murders of seventeen people in the past two months. Now open this door."[/FONT][/B]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode][B]"One moment, officer,"[/B] I said, reaching over to the video camera stored by the side of the door, and flicking a switch so the recording light was on. I smiled and reached into the drawer below the camera, withdrawing a large, customised Ruger Super Redhawk revolver from it. With the other hand, I pulled the H&K handgun from my shoulder holster.[/FONT]
[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode][B]"Why don't you come in, officer? The door's unlocked!"[/B] I shouted, moving into position directly opposite the front door, behind the sofa, giving myself some cover. I watched as the doorknob turned slowly, and the door opened a crack.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode][B]"Hands in the air, Jackman!"[/B] shouted the commanding officer through the door.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode][B]"As always,"[/B] I smiled, raising the two weapons and levelling them at the door.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]It happened in an instant.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]The door burst open, and two armed officers in their beige trenchcoats exploded into the room. I pulled both triggers, and bullets slammed into them, knocking them to the floor, blood spraying across the walls. There were two more uniformed officers behind them, armed with submachine guns, who leapt over the cadavers of their superiors, and their muzzles blazed into life. With a swift kick, I knocked the sofa over and dropped behind it, their bullets narrowly shredding past me and ripping the stuffing out of the sofa cushions. Shreds of padding drifted slowly to the floor like snowflakes. The bullets stopped.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]I hopped onto my feet, remaining in a crouched position, and leapt at the window opposite. In the air, I swivelled my body round, crashing through the glass shoulders-first, and unloaded both my weapons at the uniforms. I watched them drop, one spurting a geyser-like fountain of blood from a neck wound, the other with the crimson fluid pumping out of his left eye. I rolled backwards onto the fire escape, quickly grabbed my jacket from inside the window, and leapt down to street level, my Converse trainers slapping against the concrete. Swinging the black suit jacket on over the now slightly-bloodstained white shirt and straightening my tie, I began a slow jog down the street.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]I needed a new apartment.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode] ---[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode] I hope this is the kind of thing you were looking for, Mike, I didn't have anyone else's responses to work off. Obviously, this is a new character, based on myself, an assassin known as "The Director" due to his rather bizarre fetish of videotaping his "work" and watching it back at a later date*.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode] I was planning this to be a continuing series of "chapters," which would reveal the character's background, history etc.[/FONT]

[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode] [I][SIZE=1]*I'd just like to point out that even though this character is based on myself, I don't kill people and video it. I do have a video camera which I use fairly regularly, though.[/SIZE][/I][/FONT]
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[center][size=1][b]Music & Lyrics[/b][/center]

[I]Scratch. Scribble. Pen on paper. Glorious scent of freshly popped pop-corn. Fizzy bubbles up my nose from the Dr. Pepper I accidentally shook.[/I]

#Childish games
Stuck in your misery
You’re all the same
Everyone but me #

[I]Hmm. I wonder. This melody? No, too… chipper. This one? No, too redundant. Ah. This one.[/I]

#No matter what you do
No matter what you say
I’ll never be like you
I don’t want to be that way#

[I]Wait, what’s that? Oh, just [/i]him[i]. Stupid cat, I’m not getting up to let you in. It’s – holy crap, it’s twelve thirty![/I]

#So stuck in your fake reality
And nothing is what it seems
So tightly held to your conformity#

[I]Pick up the papers. Oh what a mess. Gooood night. Click. Off goes the light. On to dreamland.[/I]

"[b]Urg. I knew better than to choose the bedroom with the east-facing window.[/b]"

I dragged my protesting body up from the rather yeilding bedspread. It was so comfortable, why did I have to - oh. Spotting the prone body on the floor by the bed, I slid out of the silk sheets to kneel beside him. [i]Him.[/i] I'd written so much poetry about this beautiful, currently unnamed hunk. I'd even written a song or two. Poetry was so much easier though.

Still. I should probably spray him and then drop him off somewhere so that he doesn't remember. I don't want to deal with the cops again. Last time it was such a hassel getting them to believe that [i]he'd[/i] been torturing [i]me[/i], not the other way around. Actually, now that I thought about it, they hadn't believed it. That's right, [i]that[/i] was why I'd had to get a new identity. Luckily, I had three at my disposal. Alex, Amiya, and Sarah. What was it those crazy cops were calling me? ... Oh yeah. The Sadistic Poet. I am not sadistic. Just... eclectic. But I digress.

[i][color=green]Oh well. Game over.[/i][/color]

"[b]Well, not exactly. One more?[/b]"

[i][color=blue]Oh fine. But you really should stop talking to yourself. People might get the idea that you're crazy.[/i][/color]

"[b]Will not.[/b]"

There was no answer. Standing, I rolled my captive over with my toe and gazed down at his face. His eyes were wide in paralyzed fear. I clucked my tongue at him. I hated it when they acted scared of me. Some of them enjoyed my...methods. So.

I leaned forward, gazing into eyes so blue I imagined they made the sky jealous. I grabbed a handful of dark, curly brown hair and yanked his head back, causing him to hiss in pain. A smile twisted across my lips in satisfaction. He was ideal. But not for me. Anger suddenly flared inside me. He was too good. That meant that, if I could not have him, no one would. I should send him back to the Goddess. She would appreciate such a beautiful and strong consort. Or at least a toy.

[i][color=red]Just do it already. You're making Amiya upset.[/i][/color]

"[b]Shut up, Alex/[/b]"

I reached across him to the nightstand and took up a small knife. I held it in front of his frightened eyes, waving it back and forth slowly. "[b]Do you know what this is, my friend?[/b]" I fingered the edge of the blade lovingly. "[b]This is a paring knife. Do you know what we do with it?[/b]"

Slowly, carefully, with expert skill, I pressed the point against one of his bare shoulders, and slid the edge down, tracing the outline of his shoulder and arm. His body quivered and I saw his catch a cry of pain. I smiled wickedly, then did the other shoulder and arm. I stood, and watched the blood slowly ooze down his arms and back. Going to my writing desk, I picked up my pen and began to write.

How beautiful he was. Dark and sultry, but those eyes, so mesmerizing. The blood, dark and salty, made a perfect contrast to his tan skin. As I wrote, a thought occured to me. Why wasn't he screaming for help? My eyes narrowed. Turning from the beginnings of what I was sure would be my masterpiece, I went back to him. His death would take a long time.

[i][color=red]A very long time... make him scream, girl.[/i][/color]

Oh yes. He would not die for a very long time. My poem wasn't done yet. As these thoughts crossed my mind, I began the slow process of scalping him. No reason not to keep something for myself. Then he began to scream. Ah, the glory of soundproofed walls...

It was two in the morning. My work was done. I added the last word with a flourish, and then turned to look at the mutilated body on my bedroom floor. Even in death, with his eyes cut out, tongue carved up and scalped, he was beautiful. The patterns I had carved on his chest were now dark lines, and the floor beneath him was sticky with blood. Now, what to do with the body?

I clapped my hands as an idea came to me. Why not burn him? A regular funeral pyre! I gazed at the bloody carpet, and that decided me. This apartment was too small anyway. Gathering my things - my poems, my cat, a change of clothes, purse, keys -, I made sure my masterpiece was carefully stowed beneath my old denim jacket. Going to the door, I slipped my shoes. I tossed my hair over one shouler and knocked over a large candle. That would do nicely.

"[b]Sleep well with the Lady.[/b]"

I drove away with a feeling of satisfaction in my gut as the building behind me went up in flames.

[center]~*~[/center]

Haha. So now you know. >.> No, I don't burn things. >.< Well, I do, just not whole buildings. And I don't mutilate people and write poems about it. But I will admit to some depressing and disturbing stories/poems/songs. (Oh, and I wrote that.) Imma sadistic little somebody, aren't I? And even if this isn't what you were looking for, I had fun writing it. >:-D I do have multiple personalities, btw, and Alex is one of them. Ooooh, after that I so do not need a cutesy banner. V_V[/size]
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[center][FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]A few hours later, I knocked on the front door of one of my best friends. There was no reply for a long time, until finally the handle turned and the door creaked open, revealing a tousle-haired individual in a worn dressing gown, rubbing his eyes with the back of a fist.

[B]"Who is it?"[/B] he asked, not looking up from his coffee, steaming away in a Transformers mug.

[B]"It's me, JP, let me in,"[/B] I said urgently, pushing past him to get into his house. It was a modest affair, with hard wood floors and minimal soft furnishings, but there were posters for sci-fi shows plastered across his walls.
[B]
"Jesus, Phil,"[/B] he croaked, [B]"It's too early for this."[/B]
[B]
"JP, it's past ten. Maybe it wouldn't be too early if you weren't such a lazy bastard,"[/B] I replied, pouring myself a cup of coffee from the half-full jug on the worktop.

[B]"It might be past ten, but I got in at three this morning. I barely got in in time to TiVo the Transformers marathon that was showing. And now you show up and barge your way into my house? I'm your friend, but there's only so much I can handle, mate."[/B]
[B]
"Look, JP, I got harassed by some cops this morning. They came to my ****ing apartment, man, you know they mean business when they do that. There must be something big going down."

"So what'd you do?"

"What do you mean?"

"What did you do to the cops?"

"I shot them."

"Jesus Christ, Phil! When are you gonna start controlling your temper? You kill any?"

"All four of 'em,"[/B] I said, now beginning to panic. I'd got lost in the haze of the firefight this morning, and I'd just done enough to land myself in the electric chair.

[B]"****, you don't do yourself any favours, do you? Alright, so you've killed four cops, and now you're on the run. So the first thing you do is come to my house? For God's sake, Phil, I thought you had more sense than that."

"Look, JP, I panicked."

"Panicked? Panicking for most people is dropping an open bottle of red wine on the new shag carpet and trying to clean it up before your wife comes home. Panicking does not qualify as an excuse for offing four cops! You're getting yourself into some serious ****, here."

"Alright, alright, I ****** up. Now I'm trying to sort this out. Would you please calm down? Just take a deep breath and sit down."[/B]

JP did as I asked, flopping down onto the cream-coloured futon that sat opposite the widescreen TV. He ran his hands through his hair and rested his head back.

[B]"Sorry, Phil, I'm just really not a morning person."

"I would know, having spent three years of my life living in the same house as you."

"Christ, university was a long time ago. Lot's changed since then."

"I know, man. We did some pretty messed up stuff back then, huh?"

"Not as messed up as you're doing right now,"[/B] he replied, and we both started laughing. We'd been through a lot togther, me and JP, but we were still as close as we used to be when we went to university together, back in England.

[B]"Ok,"[/B] I said, serious once more, [B]"JP, I know I've asked a lot of you recently, but I swear I will repay you one of these days. I just need one more favour."

"Which is?"[/B] JP sighed.

[B]"I need you to scout around. Ask a few innocuous questions to your boss, see if he's heard anything that could implicate me in something serious. DW's a pretty stand-up guy, right?"

"No way. He's in it for the money, and the money only. Don't trust him with anything."

"Well, he may not be trustworthy, but he's knowledgable. See if he knows anything."

"Ok, I'll try,"[/B] said JP, [B]"But I don't have to be in work until this afternoon. I got a few hours to kill."[/B] He grabbed the remote and switched the TV on.

[B]"Oh God, JP, not Transformers, please!"[/B] I pleaded.

[B]"My house, my rules."[/B] He activated his TiVo box and played the episodes of Transformers he had recorded the previous night.

But, instead of cartoon robots appearing on screen, a different, much more ominous scene appeared.

A slightly fuzzy video was now showing on the screen, a white room with large windows taking up the shot. The camera panned round, showing a white sofa, white floorboards and a white rug. Everything in the room was white.

[B]"What the hell?"[/B] exclaimed JP, [B]"This isn't my Transformers marathon!"
[/B]
The camera turned, slowly but surely, to reveal a young-looking man lying spread-eagled on the floor, quite obviously dead. His arms and legs were splayed so his body almost made a five-pointed star, his eyes rolled back into their sockets, leaving only the whites showing, and a tiny trickle of blood running down his chin, pooling on the floorboards under his head, sticking in his long, silver hair. The neck had been sliced open, and there were crimson splatters across the body and the floorboards to show the spray patterns of the blood. The knife that had done this, a long Bowie knife with a black rag wrapped around the handle, was lodged deep in the centre of his chest. Blood was still pouring out onto the floor.

[B]"Holy ****,"[/B] I said, my jaw dropping slightly, [B]"That's Kuja."[/B]

Kuja was the stuff of gangland legend - a metal man for the mob, at one point one of James' most trusted lieutenants. However, it was common knowledge to most criminals in the city that he was a backstabber, working for the police as well. It eventually transpired that he was double-crossing both sides, and a city-wide manhunt went down, with the police and the mob both hunting for him, the police wanting to arrest him, the mob wanting to do much worse. He was found in his apartment, dead, with the killer gone, leaving no evidence of who had done the deed. That was over five years ago now, and still no-one had discovered who the perpetrator was.

[B]"Is this...is this who actually killed Kuja?"[/B] asked JP, slightly nervous as we both watched intently.

The camera continued to turn, and slowly a face came into view. It was one that we both instantly recognised.

It was my face.

[B]"Get the **** out of my house!"[/B] yelled JP, drawing a revolver from behind the futon and aiming it at me. My gaze flicked rapidly from the video on the screen to my old flatmate brandishing a powerful handgun at me.

This was bad...

---

Alright, I do realise a couple of things. One, this is a fairly lengthy "chapter;" Two, that it is positively littered with bad language, for which I apologise, but there are some high tensions at JP's house.

I hope you like this "chapter," it took a couple of fairly extensive rewrites over the course of the day, but I finally managed to get it down to how I like it. I used the basic character of JP from "The Hit," and added a bit of backstory between his character and mine.
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[color=darkred][size=1]

That was really amazing, Phil. I loved it, I mean, every word. It fits in very well, and it's making me think that you'd do a better job on The Hit than I, haha. I loved it. I hope to see more and what Will has in mind.

And don't worry about the language. The Hit is filled with naughty words. I mean, we are talking about professional criminals and killers, I don't think they are the most morale people, haha.[/color][/size]
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[size=1][color=teal]I opened my eyes, the first mistake. Light exploded into my vision and I brought my hand up to block the intense brightness being forced into my bloodshot eyes. I made my next mistake a couple of minutes later, I sat up which instantly fucked my world up like you wouldn’t believe. I fell back onto my bed in a heap. From there I pieced together what I had done the night before, wait no, the day before.

It had been graduation.

[center]~*~[/center]
The drinking started around eleven in the morning, late I know but we had been to get our results first, seeing as we needed to have a reason to be drinking. Thankfully it was in celebration because we’d both passed and got our degrees. Not that I knew what the hell I was going to do with my degree, I was all about the driving now but Phil I think had plans. Plans which wouldn’t keep us together I think. Anyway, that’s not the point.

So drinking got heavy around the midday point when everyone else started rolling in to the Union bar with their own results as well and eventually is was just one big piss up. After our fourth or fifth pint and seventh respective shots of sambucca Phil and I walked, or staggered, over to the pool table. I think we thought playing might sober us up a bit. Fortunately we didn’t have long to sober up before these two girls came over and asked to play.

Damn it, can’t remember their names but then that’s never really that important. All of that afternoon is a big haze right now, what I do remember is loosing a few times to these girls, drinking more and finally agreeing to hook up with them later that night at a local club.

Skip ahead a few hours.

Now me and Phil, dressed in our finest, are with the girls in the night club and things are moving along at a fairly brisk pace. Phil went off with his girl and I didn’t see him again for a long while. Me and...crap still can’t remember her name, whatever, me and the girl aren’t doing much talking by this point anyway so I can’t be blamed for not remembering her name. Again more fuzz. I’m standing outside with Phil and these girls, I can’t decide if I’m bored of them or not but I let them stick around. All I care about now is getting home.

We walk around to where I parked my car, a beauty of thing that car. Most people spend their loans on booze, I spent mine on my car and it really shows. [b]Now I remember what happened[/b].

[center]~*~[/center]
I should’ve realised how drunk I really was, but I didn’t care and none of the others were sober enough to stop me. I know we had an accident and I know my car is totalled now. I know me and Phil ran as fast as we could from the accident and didn’t think twice about those girls. I know we have to leave now and I know that I’m sober again.

I wake Phil.

It’s time for us to leave.

[center]~*~*~*~[/center]

[b]“JP? Hey, you alright?”[/b] Phil says to me. Taking my hand of the wheel briefly I rub my eyes.

[b]“Yeah I’m fine. Just tired I guess.”[/b] We don’t talk about how we came to America anymore, all that matters is that we’re hear now and making good money. Its not honest money but its good money. [b]“Who’s the unlucky bastard we’re after tonight then?”[/b] I ask with a smirk.

Phil replied with a smirk of his own. [b]“Just some lowlife that owes the Chief some money, no killing tonight. Just need to rough them up and get the money.”[/b]

I keep my sardonic smirk as I move to switch the cars stereo system on. Before long we’re shooting down the freeway with Disturbed pounding in our ears as we get closer to the nights work. In the back of my mind though, I know I’ll never forget that girls name now.

[center]Tiana.

-===-[/center]

Hope this is the kind of thing you're after Mike.[/size][/color]
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[FONT="Arial"][CENTER]I woke with a terrible tingling burn running throughout my body, every limb and joint seemed to ache with some sort of dull pain. My eyes (well, one of them) fluttered open to take in my surroundings, glad for the moment that I wasn?t actually dead. I saw weapons along the walls, the ones that weren?t covered with bookcases, and a large oak table stretching out alongside where I was lying. I smiled immediately before damning this pain to hell. I was home. I really was.

Somehow I managed to prop myself up on one arm, the other held against my chest by tight bandages, no doubt broken, even shattered. I didn?t think about that for the moment, though, only quirked my lips up in another pained smile at the young man walking toward me, a tray in his hands carrying bread and soup and water.

[B]?Onix??[/B] I croaked before flicking out my tongue to wet my slightly cracked lips, the coppery taste of blood still faint in my mouth.

[B]?Yeah, it?s me. You got yourself beaten up pretty bad, didn?t you? Took all I had to get you off that beach without bleeding to death,?[/B] he paused and I hadn?t realised until now how soft and wonderful his voice was to me. I almost asked for him to carry on speaking before he did. [B]?Such a silly girl, Zeke. I told you he was too much to take on just yet.?[/B]

I frowned at that and looked away from his handsome face, knowing his stormy eyes always had a way of drawing me in and making me forget what my troubles were.

[B]?I should have been strong enough. I just wasn?t expecting to be thrown off a bridge or fighting on top of a car. Even you wouldn?t have been prepared for something like that.?[/B]

He chuckled softly and reached out to stroke my hair, combing out the tangles and grains of sand that were sticking to red strands. [B]?I guess not. But I would have known when to quit and come back to think of another strategy.?[/B]

I snarled and batted his hand away, reflexes still quick even if I was injured, rolling off the couch only to step on my injured ankle, immediately crumpling to the floor with a shriek of pain.

[B]?I should have been strong enough!?[/B] I cried, ashamed, feeling weaker than I ever had done before. Weaker now than when Onix had first found me, alone, bruised, half naked and crying in the rain where a group of drunkards had left me. I had thought I?d never feel that way again.

I felt him kneel down next to me and cradle my head, holding me against his broad chest as I sobbed and sobbed and eventually trailed off into a pitifully weak wail of despair. When all I did was tremble in his arms he lifted me with ease, taking me upstairs to my bedroom without a word.

When he placed me on the mattress I opened my useable eye, wondering suddenly what had happened to its twin. [B]?My eye,? [/B]I muttered, reaching out to grab his sleeve so he wouldn?t leave, [B]?What?s happened to it??[/B]

He sighed heavily and sat on the bed next to me, pushing back my dirty fringe as if to reinspect the damage. [B]?I?ve had to stitch it closed. You should be able to use it again, but??[/B]

[B]?But there?s a chance I won?t be able to.?[/B] I finished, surprising myself with how calm my voice was. Considering I might have died today the loss of an eye wasn?t something I would be mourning over in the morning when I was in less pain. At least I had a spare one.

[B]?Thank you for saving me. Again. I don?t know what I?d do without you looking after me.?[/B] I reached up and stroked back his bangs, the dark brown broken up by occasional streaks of premature silver, brought on by a life of stress. Now I had calmed down I was glad to look into his eyes, ones that always seemed to intoxicate me after mere moments.

He just smiled and leant down to place a chaste kiss to one of my cheeks, resulting in another dull flare of pain. Was there any part of me that wasn?t some way injured?

He bade me goodnight and left, leaving the door open slightly so that only a sliver of artificial light from the corridor could get in, snaking across the floor. I groaned and tried to work my way under the covers, realising only now that he?d dressed me in a white gown to match the colour of my bandages. How quaint.

I could only lie there as morphine worked its magic, caught in the purgatory of sleep and dreams when the image of that bastard?s face seemed to materialise before me. The Boss. He was so strong, and yet seemed so helpless, as though he could show a part of what I always felt when going against someone relentless. Someone stupid, really, like I had been.

I grit my teeth and closed my eyes, determined to banish him from my mind until I saw him next. And the next time I saw him, I would split that face in two.[/CENTER][/FONT]
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[i][COLOR="darkorchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]I felt hands on my back as I unlocked my front door, but I didn?t think it warranted panic. I smelled his cologne at his approach, and while most people weren?t able to pick out the differences in his brand of scent and other?s, I?d always known who he was. He?d placed them on my shoulders, the pads of his fingers brushing against the thin straps of my dress, his thumbs pressed lightly into the space between my two scapulae. I would?ve blushed, but that wouldn?t have been seen in the darkness. Instead, I took my time with the deadbolt, feeling him get even closer, the stubble of his cheek against my neck and face. Not two seconds later, he?d lost patience and pushed me against the halfway unlocked door, one hand shoving it all the way open. He?d hooked his foot around my ankle and we crashed to the floor, my arms around his neck, his keeping his full weight off my body. My hands found the lapels of his suit, and the sound of tearing cloth joined the sound of my breath coming out in gasps.[/i]

?Your timing is next to perfect. But you should?ve waited until I was unlocking my bedroom door instead.?

[i]From his vantage point, the Irishman peered down at me with one of those wicked smiles, his eyes noticing the wardrobe malfunction that was my gown already sliding off my body. With huge hands, he picked me up, kicking the door shut behind him with one leg, and clasped me to his chest. I automatically tucked my legs in, my arms halfway around his chest, head nestled against his throat. The bedroom door was already unlocked, I had lied, but it didn?t really matter. He set me down on the bed as I kicked off both heels, flicking hair out of my eyes. The toss across the main hallway had knocked my hair out of its bun, scattering hairpins, and I would?ve been annoyed, but his insistent lips against mine were a very potent distraction.

I?d already found his belt and summarily removed it, while his fingers hooked themselves through my straps and tugged lightly. Despite his best efforts, there was the sound of tearing cloth and then a female?s palm against a cheek. He didn?t even flinch, but instead smiled down at my mock rage.

?That was a two thousand dollar dress.?

He somehow managed to speak in that slow, beautiful accent even as my teeth dragged against his collarbone, his chin, his lower lip.[/i]

?You complain too much darling.?

[i]He redeemed himself by unhooking my bra with two fingers, a trick that I was beginning to wish he hadn?t picked up in the hazy time between when we were together and apart. Hands enveloped both my shoulders, and he pushed me down onto my bed, pillows flying. I felt weightless, trapped between silk sheets, and his huge frame. And when he pressed his face against my breasts and cried out my name, I held him in my arms, feeling him shuddering with pleasure.[/i]

?Gavin...I love you.?

[center] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~[/center]

[i]That was me. Three years ago, in a townhouse, in a quiet part of the city, with the man I?d loved for as long as I could remember. He was still a fighter and a killer, and I was his to cherish. We?d both loved each other in our own ways and we had always sworn to love one another. I kept up with the rent as a technical assistant in at the firm?s lab and taken other jobs when the opportunity arose. I?d never really considered what it would?ve been like to work in any other field. I love to fight, to feel pain and the pain of others. The expression of shock on people?s faces when the sting of poison filled blades sank into them. The look of agony as venom coursed through their veins. I cherished these times more than was reasonable.

Perhaps it was unseemly, but not as unseemly as the lab?s collection of hot snakes. And by hot I mean deadly venomous hot. I used the black mamba, the Hagen?s tree viper, the puff adder, desert taipan and every other in between. Neurotoxins, cytotoxins, you name them, I used them. I milked them for the venom, fed them rodents, chickens, and rabbits. Gavin didn?t know that I also killed, he only knew me as a lab worker, in a spotless white coat over a jumpsuit and boots. And I never told him that I was a murderer. A contractor. It was better for him to think of me as blameless, not stained with the blood of hundreds of surprised victims. On the other hand, I?d never loved any man but him, never let myself stray towards some other purpose. My work and my love I kept separate, but perhaps if I had not been so divided, I would?ve not ended up where I had.[/i]

"Forget about him Raiha, it'll only make it worse."

[i]Erica's voice was a distraction in its own right. Her hair trailing across the bed we shared, and her fingers at my elbow. I had been staring into space for what felt like hours, and I shook my head to clear it. Pushing Gavin to the very back of my thoughts, where he'd been hiding for the so long, I could concentrate on Erica's lips on my nipples, and her hands pulling the sheets from around my legs.[/i][/FONT][/COLOR]
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[color=darkred][size=1]

Love it, people. All of it is fantastic.

Just a side note and reminder, you can post however much about your character you wish. Continuing stories, back stories, etc. Blayze is catching on quite well (and I do so look forward to your characters next chapter). Just letting everyone know.

Great work, again.[/color][/size]
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[color=blue]My head hurt. A lot. I mean, a hell of a lot. Why did it hurt? I?ll tell you why it hurt. I?d hit it on the mother effing roof on my mother effing car, that?s why. And you know what else? I?d managed to slam the door on my fingers twice in two days. I?ve always been somewhat of a klutz, but this was just ridiculous.

Ugh. A couple weeks ago, Alex had gotten the better of me. Or was it the coffee? Either way, something had gone horribly wrong. I hadn?t meant to kill the poor guy, I really hadn?t. It?s just, once Sarah gets in control, the rest of us are utterly helpless.

[I][color=red]I tried. I did.[/I][/color]

?[b]I know, Alex. You can?t talk reason into Sarah, you know that.[/b]?

There was silence for a moment from the dark shadow at the back of my mind.

[I][color=red]You have to admit, though? the work she puts out when motivated is astounding. You should try it.[/I][/color]

I was silent. I was sitting in a crowded diner, with a booth to myself, and the last time I?d answered Alex, people had looked at me in a bizarre fashion. Once the hum had resumed, I muttered into my menu, ?[b]What?s [I]that[/I] crack supposed to mean?[/b]?

[I][color=red]Forget it.[/color][/i]

I muttered to myself until the waitress came and took my order. ?[b]Can I get a cup of coffee, maybe a couple waffles?[/b]?

The woman nodded, looking at me strangely. I looked at her back quizzically as she walked away.

[I][color=red]Uh? Skye? Check your reflection in the napkin holder.[/I][/color]

I did and my eyes widened. I looked horrible. My mascara was smeared down my face, my hair was a wreck, and I had dark stains smeared all over me ? blood stains.

?[b]****.[/b]?

I asked the woman in the booth near me to watch my table, and darted into the bathroom. After one look, I was terribly thankful that my other self had packed another pair of clothing. Locking myself in a stall, I changed. I washed in front of the mirror with a paper towel, just getting the parts of me showing outside my clothes, and scrubbed my face twice to get the feel of blood off of me. Last, I ran a brush through my hair before going back out to my table.

People were [I]still[/I] whispering as I walked back to my table. That was annoying. Without waiting for my food, I left. As I drove down the road, the girls in my head were silent.

?[b]We got lucky, damn you.[/b]?

They seemed startled. Then? [I][color=green]I?m sorry, okay? Really.[/I][/color]

?[b]You?re trying too hard to be sorry, Sarah. You?re not. Next time you pull that stunt, I?ll?[/b]?

Mental smirk. [I][color=green]You?ll what.[/I][/color]

I was silent. Turning onto a small street, I flipped open my phone.

?[b]I gotta find somebody.[/b]?

[center]~*~[/center]

Okay, not so impressive. I?m trying to get my character involved but I have no idea who to send her at. That and my brain died in the middle of writing this, so the end sucks. Sorry.[/color]
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[FONT="Tahoma"][SIZE="1"][COLOR="DarkSlateBlue"]I woke up that morning, the rays of the sun blinding my eyes as it seeped through the cracks of the window blinds. I groaned a little bit, cursing the mother fucking light to just go bother someone else for awhile. At least until we both left. That's right... there was someone else with me in my bed as I slept that night. He surprised me by being here, even as I got home late when the sun was seeping through the night.

I rubbed my eyes as I rolled over to the opposite side of the bed, sleepily blinking as my vision slowly returned. Hunter's eyes were still closed, his breath paced slowly as he still lay asleep and his hair tousled over the pillow his head rested upon. The sheets and covers slightly covering his body, only showing the upper part that laid there for me to see. I moved my right hand from under my head and reached for his bare chest, lightly touching each crevice and feeling the warmth as his heartbeat pulsed, the motion making me shiver with light pleasure.

[CENTER]+ + +[/CENTER]

That's right... I remember what happened last night. I came home late last night, and he was already here. Hunter. He said he had been waiting for me until I came home, wondering what I was doing up so late. I reminded him that it was none of his business, myself annoyed at the simple day that ended in a failure. But, he apparently wouldn't accept that as an answer.

That's right, he didn't. Instead, he stood up and slowly walked towards me, surprising me and causing me to back up against the wall. His right hand by my cheek, warmth emitting from his fingers as they touched me lightly. I tried to push him off, but... I remember all that ended in failure. I was still angry at him for whatever reason, which I forgot at the time, but instead, in a moment's insanity, I raised my hands towards his shirt collar and started to slowly unbutton his solid-black shirt. My hands touched his chest and collar bone slightly, I felt him shiver slightly as he brushed his hand against my cheek.

He mumbled something about missing me and loving me no matter how much I hated him. I tried to fend him off, I really did. You don't understand when people say that 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," but that applies to me more than anyone else here in the world. Hunter didn't care, though, he knew I was weak for passion... for someone to long for me... for someone to just love.

He lifted my chin with his right index finger and looked deeply into my brown eyes, shifting a lock of my brown hair that was on my face. I wish I remembered what he said... something about how he was done with his work and would be here with me forever, I believe. I looked away, not wanting to make it that easy for him, though it was futile.

Hunter roughly postured my face to look at his and placed his warm face a few inches away from mine, teasing me as if he knew I wanted it. He leaned in and placed his warm lips on mine, his right hand still on my face as his left traced around the contours of my body and finally wrapped around my slim waist, roughly pulling me close to him. Once again, I tried to push him off, really I did. I don't give a damn if you don't believe me if I did or not, but, once passion surrounds your body that's aching for it... nothing can stop you. Not even your own will.

I just let go of my grudge and wrapped my tanned arms around his neck, my hands running through his jet-black hair. My left hand somehow traveled downwards towards his stomach and slightly went up his shirt, our lips still kissing as the heat started to grow even more.

I was slightly drunk, but I knew what I was doing. Nonetheless, I still wanted this, drunk or not. After that, all I remember was that we both went over to my bed and gently fell upon the already-made covers, clothes strewn all over...

[CENTER]+ + +[/CENTER]

Then, my mind just went blank. Well, either that or I don't want to say anymore. The latter probably... yeah. Just fuck you guys and imagine whatever you want.

A sigh escaped my lips and I moved my hand back towards my body that only had the blankets as covering. I thought about something a little, but flew it off and slowly moved over towards the sleeping man, his breath lightly blowing on my face.

It was nice... though last night wasn't what I expected. I lightly touched his face with my hand and he surprised me. He grabbed my hand softly, holding it in the same place as he still slept on.

Ring ring.

What the...? Dammit... my cell was ringing.

Ring ring ring.

God damn it. I moved closer to Hunter, trying to hide away from the life I forgot about for a brief second.

Ring ring ring.

[B]"Damn..."[/B] I muttered to myself, already knowing the ringing wouldn't stop. I leaned over Hunter's covered body and grabbed my cell. Dammit, why now? I went back to the position I was in earlier and answered.

[B]"Who the hell is this?"

"Tiana, stop acting like such a bitch and get a grip already."[/B]

It was Kitty... her voice sounded so annoyed yet still cute as it always had been. Hunter slightly moved and put his arm around me, pulling me closer and kissing me softly on my cheek. I let out a slight laugh and covered my mouth again.

[B]"What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing."[/B] I replied, covering my mouth. [B]"What is it so early in the morning?"

"We have an order to kill someone."[/B]

I perked up and rolled over, my face looking out the half covered window as the man I still laid next to clung to me. [B]"Who is it?"

"BKstyles... from Brooklyn. Apparently, he hasn't done what he's supposed to, so now the Boss wants us to snipe him."[/B]

BKstyles... that name sounded familiar, but, at this time, everything did. Although, something in my gut made me not want to do this. Damn, I hated those fucking feelings. I didn't even know the guy yet I treated him as a friend.
[B]
"What time you want me to meet you upfront?"

"In about three hours."

"Fine. Could you leave me alone now?"[/B] I replied sarcastically.
[B]
"Just don't be late... or I'll have your ass." [/B]She hung up on the other end.

I closed my cell and threw it on the floor, then laid against Hunter again and propped my head against his chest, the light soon getting brighter and brighter. He held me tighter and place his head on mine, soon falling asleep again.

I didn't care what happened. I would go and kill someone soon enough, but... now..

I just wanted to keep my sanity for a little while until I became the ruthless killer I had to be.[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT]
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[indent][font=timesnewroman][b]“Just don't be late... or I'll have your ass.”[/b]

I didn't mean to sound so bitchy, but I wasn't about to put any effort into sounding chipper. Hell, it was [i]way[/i] to early to be awake, but once you get a call from the Boss, what can you do? I knew if I took a nap now – and don't try and be cute and call it a 'cat nap', that gets old faster than you think – I'd just end up sleeping the day away, and the promise of a kill later on in the day made staying up worthwhile, anyway.

So, instead of remaining where my king-size, feathery cloud of a bed could tempt me to return to its heavenly sheets and pillows, I opted to slip into my comfy, polka-dotted around-the-house outfit and head towards the kitchen. My apartment was a fairly tiny one, with only four rooms: the bedroom, its accompanying bathroom, and the kitchen and living room, separated only by the counter and oven. It's not grand, and isn't big enough for anyone other than myself, but I don't really mind the lack of company. It leaves me more time for sleeping.

Grabbing a stray apple out of my essentially barren refrigerator, I made a mental note to head over to the grocery store later tonight, along with the local laundromat, as it was seldom that my clothes didn't end up covered in blood after a hit. Lucky for me the owner was a tiny, old woman who could barely see two feet in front of her, and always confused the red for beet juice.

[center]~[/center]

Skip ahead two and half hours, I leaned out of my bedroom window, glowering at the dark clouds above my head. It was going to rain, obviously, and damn it all if I didn't hate the rain. It made everything so frustratingly difficult, and the feeling of wearing wet clothing literally made my skin crawl. However, there was work to be done, and it [i]would[/i] be done, whatever the weather. I walked back over towards my tiny closet and pulled out my favorite outfit: the one I killed people in.

I glanced at myself in the mirror as I got dressed, noting several cuts and scrapes that were still in the process of healing. I pulled my long, brown hair up into a tight bun and covered it with my slate black fedora, a gift from the unlucky man who was my first hit. That night hadn't gone so well, so he wasn't so much “taken out”, which was my original intention, as he was butchered. Thanks to him, though, I learned my favorite way to do my job, despite how messy it was. I walked out of my apartment, not bothering to lock the door behind me as I had nothing worth stealing inside. The rest of my outfit – a white, long-sleeve, button-up polo draping down and covering half of my denim skirt, white leg warmers with black polka dots, and a pair of black, steel-toed boots that had taken me quite a while to track down (my feet are rather tiny) – garnered stares from my fellow apartment residents that were walking onto the elevator as I stepped off.

Shouldering my duffel bag, which contained my largest weapon and the details of the job, I strode off towards the designated meeting point where I would, undoubtedly, arrive before my partner. If I was awake, I was always the more punctual of the two of us.

[center]~[/center]

[b]“Oi.”[/b] Tiana acknowledged my greeting with a nod as she walked up to me, letting out a deep breath as she stopped beside me. My eyes returned to the sky where the looming clouds taunted me from above, promising rain but refusing to tell me when it would arrive.

[b]“Kitty, whaddya got?”[/b] Noticing my lack of attention, she snapped her fingers in front of my face to indicate that she wanted me to listen. [b] “Well?”[/b] she asked, sounding a bit irritated.

[b]“Don't blame me,”[/b] I growled back, [b]“I'd rather be sleeping, you know.”[/b]

[b]“I'm not surprised. Just get on with it,”[/b] she sighed, waving her hand about impatiently in front of me. I pulled out the file from my bag and read it over once more before giving her a summary.

[b]“This guy's been in town for the past couple days, apparently on behalf of the Boss, but he didn't do what he was called here to do – what, I have no idea – and so he's sneaking out of town early. Unfortunately for him, the Boss is well aware of his plans to ditch him, so now we're to gun him down quietly before he gets away. He should be leaving his hotel in half an hour.”[/b]

[b]“Sounds like a cinch,”[/b] Tiana said after a minute, cracking her knuckles as she spoke.

[b]“Yeah, but it doesn't sound like fun,”[/b] I frowned. Sniper jobs were my least favorite, but I got them pretty often. Tiana had better aim than I did, but I had the better gun. See, the reason I have such a tiny, crap-tastic apartment is because all my money goes into my guns. And my clothes. What, a girl can't like looking nice when she isn't out killing people?

Anyway, after our little briefing in the alley, we took her car down to the hotel where this 'BKStyles' guy was currently in the process of packing his things. Before Tiana parked, she practically shoved me out of the car, making me leave my fedora behind in the process, and suggested I look for the best place to turn into a sniper's perch in the meantime. When she came back, her own weapon slung casually over her shoulder, I greeted her with a grumpy look, but my frown nearly fell of my face when she said she already had a spot in mind.

[b]“Well fuck, Tiana. If you already had one picked out, you didn't have to shove me out of the fucking car,”[/b] I snapped at her. She laughed at me – [i]laughed[/i] at me! – as she walked towards her 'oh-so-wonderful' spot, not bothering to see if I was coming after her or not. If it wasn't my job to follow her, I would have flipped her off and taken her car back to my place so I could go back to sleep. But, then again, if it wasn't my job, I wouldn't have been out there in the first place. A loud crack of thunder from above was what motivated me most, so I ended up jogging after her with an extremely annoyed expression, despite my desire to desert her.

It turns out her 'spot' was a friend's apartment across the street that had an excellent view of the hotel's parking lot from its balcony. The rain had started to fall moments after we got inside the building, so my mood had brightened a bit at the fact that I had dodged the it. Whoever Tiana's friend was, they were out of town at the moment, so I decided there was no problem with me rummaging through their food while they were away. After all, I hadn't eaten much other than an apple all day, and I was getting rather hungry. It's hard to keep a steady trigger finger when your growling stomach keeps distracting you, after all. Once I had satisfied my hunger with the resident's plentiful selection, I pulled my PSG-1 rifle out of my duffel bag and set it up beside Tiana, who was already lying flat on the balcony, checking for the 'BKStyles' guy through her own scope.

[b]“You finally done stuffing your face? It amazes me how you can eat so much yet stay so small, you pig.”[/b]

[b]“Are you calling me short?”[/b]

[b]“What? ... [i]No[/i], I said--”[/b]

[b]“Because you know I hate that, right? I'm not short, okay? I'm average height for a woman my age!”[/b]

[b]“No, dammit! Jesus, that's not what I-- Oh, fuck it.”[/b]

Letting out a satisfied 'hmph', happy that I had reminded her that being 5'5” did [i]not[/i], I repeat [i]not[/i], mean I was short, I returned my attention to the parking lot below. Through my scope I could see into the hotel lobby, and spotted the back of my target's head. However, shooting him where his death could be witnessed was a bad idea, so I kept my finger off the trigger and stared impatiently, muttering to myself about how annoyingly slow he was being.

I was surprised out of my irritated growling by a knock at the door. Tiana held a hand over my mouth to keep the gasp I was about to release from escaping, and slowly looked over her shoulder at the door behind us. She gave me a look that read “don't make a sound” and let the person out in the hallway continue their knocking, hoping that they would assume that the apartment was empty. However, they seemed adamant about speaking with whoever was inside, so I gave Tiana my patented “PWEASE?” expression, which she reluctantly succumbed to. Withdrawing her hand, she rolled her eyes and nodded towards the door. I leapt up with an excited but hushed squeal, pulling out my silenced pistols which had previously been strapped to my ankles and hidden beneath my baggy leg warmers. Behind me I heard her fire off a shot, and the sounds of her standing up meant she had hit her target.

[b]“Who [i]is[/i] it?”[/b] I sing-songed, leaning against the wall beside the door. My question was answered by at least two magazines worth of automatic rifle rounds being poured through the door. After a moment of silence, the gunman kicked open the door and looked at the wall in front of him, expecting to see a body. Recognizing his expression, I smirked before pushing my pistols up against him, one in his side and the other at the base of his skull.

[b]“Sorry to disappoi-- ... BKStyles?”[/b] I interrupted myself. I was very confused, as I could've sworn I had just been watching him through my scope in the hotel lobby across the way. I glanced over at Tiana, and I saw her face contort into an expression mixed of horror, confusion and shock that I had never once seen her wear before. So, how the hell did he end up here, who was the unfortunate bastard that Tiana had shot instead, and why did he know we were there? As these questions floated around my head, he gave me a smarmy smirk and looked me up and down, and I felt the sudden urge to slap him as hard as I could. Despite the two pistols I had pressed against him, he whispered a pick up line in a very slick, heavily-accented voice with no fear in either his eyes or voice. Embarrassment, more than anything, prompted me to cock my guns and ready my trigger finger.

[b]“Kitty, don't--!”[/b] Tiana shouted, but it was too late. I had already sent four shots through him, two from each pistol. I grinned wide as I felt the blood cover my clothing and part of my face, and gave Tiana a thumbs up as I looked over her way. However, she looked less pleased than I, and she promptly stormed over towards me, grabbing the collar of my shirt as she pushed me against the wall while the man's body fell limply onto the floor.

[b]“What the fuck? Our job was to kill him and I [i]did[/i],”[/b] I spat, trying to force her off of me.

[b]“Yeah, but how the hell did he find us? There could be others following after him, there could-- There might be a group of guys outside [i]right now[/i], waiting to gun down whatever walks out of this building next unless it's [i]him[/i],”[/b] she hissed in a whisper, pointing a finger at the crumpled corpse that had been alive only moments ago.

[b]“Well then, we'll go out the [i]window[/i],”[/b] I replied indignantly. She stared at me for a few more seconds before releasing me with a sigh.

[b] “I [i]hate[/i] going out the window... And I hate you for making me go out the window practically [i]every god damn time[/i],”[/b] she moaned, packing up her rifle as I stuffed my own carefully back into my duffel bag and replaced my pistols beneath my leg warmers. I let out a snicker as I climbed over the railing of the balcony and lingered for a moment to smile at her.

[b] “Oh, you know that's not true,”[/b] I teased before leaping agilely down three floors onto the pavement below. It took me a moment to realize that I had just jumped out into the rain and was quickly becoming thoroughly soaked. When Tiana landed beside me, she recognized my grimace and grinned at me, patting my head mockingly.

[b]“Aww, is Kitty getting her fur all wet?”[/b]

[b]“I hate you.”[/b]

[b]“Oh, you know that's not true.”[/b]

[b]“God damn it.”[/b][/font][/indent]
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[color=darkred][size=1]

Great character and good writing, but I must point out one thing.

My character, The Boss, is not a mob boss, but a hitman himself, so he wouldn't exactly be calling up other people to do his work. That is, unless you are using Boss as a generic term, which I doubt seeing as how The is capitalized.

Just a note for canon.[/color][/size]
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[size=1][color=navy]I leaned my shoulder against an alley wall, watching the bustling street with a calculating gaze hidden behind a pair of sleek sunglasses. I held my cellphone against my ear, a blank look on my face as I paid attention to the contract details.

[b]?I expect you to be able to complete this without any complications, Ms. Bullet with a Kiss.?[/b]

[b]?Hn. Consider it done.?[/b] I hung up the phone abruptly, tucking it away as I pushed away from the wall, joining the people on the streets.

I headed back toward my apartment. I?d take on the job in a couple of hours, but I wanted to research the client and my newest target, more of where they would be than who they were.

My apartment was a dark place, with the blinds drawn over the bulletproof glass to keep the bright sunlight out. I pushed my shades up to sit on top of my head, pushing the black, red streaked hair back. I sat at my computer and logged on with a number of clicks. I had access to databases of information, but when I say that, I didn?t say legally. Hacking was an entertaining past time that came in useful for when I was seeking information of any sort.

My client was known as BKStyles, seeking the...termination of a fellow assassin known as Kitty. I knew who she was. Practically everyone knew everyone in their world because people had reps, whether they were good or bad was another story. But I knew it wouldn?t be the easiest job I could have taken, she was known as Kitty because of her catlike reflexes. I was also aware that she worked tangent with another by the name of Tiana.

I pursed my lips thoughtfully and leaned back against the chair. I pulled out my cellphone and dialled the last number that had called me.

[b]?BKStyles.?[/b] Was the drawled answer, thick with a Brooklyn accent.

[b]?Do you know where she?ll be in the next couple of hours??[/b] I didn?t bother saying who I was, he?d know and he?d know who I was talking about.

[b]?Heard she?s got a job not far away.?[/b]

[b]?Do you know exactly where she?ll be??[/b] I rolled my eyes.

There was a pause before he answered, [b]?...Yeah.?[/b]

[b]?Well??[/b] I questioned somewhat impatiently.

He gave me the details and said that he?d go and try to separate Kitty from Tiana so I would have less complications of any sort. I agreed to that, not like it really mattered, but if he wanted to stick his neck out, fine. We hung up shortly after discussing details a little longer.

I went to my hidden weapons locker, trapped behind a panel of wall that was opened by reading fingerprints, then unlocking the cabinet itself with a key that permanently hung off a long chain around my neck, along with a pair of dog tags. I selected one of my favourite weapons for snipering, the Dakota T-76 Longbow. I caressed the old friend warmly, feeling its smooth, cool metal surface as I remembered the times I?d had with it. Many a targets had fallen to its bullets. I grabbed a box of ammo and set them aside as I continued to consult the locker. I decided against bringing anything else, already having my Jericho tucked into the back of my jeans, covered by my fireball red top.

I locked the cabinet up again and picked up the Longbow and ammunition, concealing them in a hard guitar case. I lifted it by the handle and exited my apartment, pulling my shades down with a smirk on my face. As for why I had a guitar case? I actually did play the guitar. With a glance at my watch I still had plenty of time to get to the place where Kitty and Tiana should be within a few hours and to find a good vantage point.

---

I stood in front of the apartment complex. It wasn?t anything special, and I found myself wondering how BKStyles knew where they would be, and why exactly it was that he wanted another hitman taken down. I just pinned it down to an underground of sources, and something he may or may not have done, after all he did seem to know that he was a target.

My client had told me that they would be aiming at the hotel. I examined the scene, counting the three levels to where I was told Kitty would be. For a good sniper point I would have to be several stories higher. I entered the hotel and took the elevator to a random level, it seems that I had pressed the number 5.

I walked the halls, smiling and nodding politely to anyone I came across so I didn?t arouse suspicion. I was cautiously stalking a particular area that I figured would give me the best vantage point. Finally I got a lucky break as I heard a door opening. I quickly moved to the door next to it and pretended to be fumbling for my key to the room. I smiled as the occupant left, throwing my keys at the door as it closed. They caught in the doorway and kept the door open. Once I was sure the person had left I pressed open the door, stooping to recover my keys, kissing them before tucking them into my pocket. The door clicked and locked behind me as I crept around the room, making sure no one was still in. I grabbed a chair from the table and slid it beneath the doorknob so that it wouldn?t open in case the room?s occupant returned.

[b]?Must be my luck day...?[/b] I whispered, sliding the glass door to the balcony open .

I shifted the patio table over and half sat on it, more of leaned on it as I pointed my Longbow over the balcony rail and looked through my scope. My phone buzzed silently in my pocket, only lasting a couple of seconds. I knew it was BKStyles telling me that he was in position and going in. I wasn?t very surprised to see Tiana lying down on the balcony. There were a few seconds before she stood, lifting her rifle. My finger curled around the trigger, but she wasn?t my target. The rain made it a little harder to see, but I was used to working in all sorts of conditions.

Suddenly I saw them appear. Kitty was covered in blood, I grimaced, knowing it would most likely be BKStyles?, which meant he was gone, but she still had an obligation to finish the mission. He had paid her beforehand through the mail, just in case something like this happened. Kitty leapt from the balcony, shortly followed by Tiana.

They stood together on the pavement, talking briefly. I swiftly took my aim and pulled the trigger, grinning as it looked good, but she suddenly bent over, hands on her knees. I swore as the bullet missed, hitting a garbage can near them. The two of them became aware, Kitty pulling out her concealed pistols from beneath her leg warmers, eyes scanning. I took aim again, aiming this time for her right hand. This time my bullet found its target, making her release one of her pistols which Tiana swiftly picked up. The two started to run.

[b]?Shit.?[/b] I quickly packed up the rifle and bravely jumped from the balcony, rolling on my sides clutching the guitar case to my chest.

I got to my feet, feeling a little bruised. I pulled out my hidden Jericho and aimed, firing rounds at them. They were firing shots back which I managed to dodge with ease since they were shooting from a more awkward angle; twisting their bodies.

My eyes were gleaming, this was a brilliant thrill.[/color]

[b]OOC:[/b] Here ya go, Mike. A kinda bored piece before sleep. Hope it?s ok with all. Started probably around the same time as Tiana and Kitty?s posts.[/size]
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[center][FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode][B]"Just get out now, Phil,"[/B] said JP, his breaths coming heavy and fast, [B]"Get out or I swear to God that I will blow your brains out."[/B]

[B]"JP,"[/B] I said, holding my hands out in the universal gesture of peace, [B]"You know as well as I do that I didn't kill Kuja. It was five years ago, back when we were still partners. You think I'd do something like that without letting you in on it? You know everything we did back then we did together."

"I never knew the names of the people you were dealing with. I just did the driving, I never actually took part. Who knows what you could have done while I was waiting for you?"

"JP, I swear to you that I didn't kill Kuja. Someone is trying to set me up. I don't know how and I don't know why, but I aim to find out. If you don't trust me enough to believe me, fine. But let me go and I'll deal with this myself. You don't have to be involved."[/B]

I saw JP waver, his grip on the weapon faltering. He was a driver, not a shooter, and he'd never been much good with guns. In a straight gunfight, I could beat him if it came to it. But I didn't want to hurt him, he was my oldest friend.

[B]"Please, just put the gun down and I'll go,"[/B] I pleaded, and, slowly but surely he lowered the weapon, placing it on the coffee table.

[B]"Just go. You can explain this whole thing to me when you're done,"[/B] he said, resting back on the futon, never making eye contact with me.

[B]"Thanks, JP,"[/B] I said, rushing to the door. As my hand grabbed the door handle, there was a rumbling coming from outside. The vibrations travelled swiftly through the ground, into the door and from there into my hand, and as I looked up I saw a pair of bright lights, rapidly growing.

[B]"Holy shi-"[/B] I didn't have time to finish the expletive as an SUV ploughed into the front of JP's house, demolishing half the front wall, smashing plaster into dust, tearing pipes from their housings and spraying warm water across the living room. The window exploded inwards as the vehicle hit, and I was thrown across the room like a ragdoll, slamming hard into the kitchen counter and rolling across, landing on my back in the kitchenette, lying stunned in a mess of broken glass and china. A rivulet of blood ran from my hairline, mingling with the plaster dust that had landed on my face and making a disgusting, salty paste.

I slowly got to my feet, every muscle in my back screaming for me to stop. I ignored the protests of my own body, and looked to the scene of devastation. JP had rolled backwards off the futon and was using it a shield from the debris that was just now settling across the room.

The doors of the SUV popped open, and two people stepped out into the wreckage that was previously JP's living room. I recognised their rugged figures as soon as they stepped out.

It was The Riot. Annie, armed with twin Desert Eagles, and Joe, his own weapons of choice being two huge assault rifles, both of them infamous in the criminal underworld, as being both ruthless and ferocious.

It had to be bad if The Riot was after me.

No words uttered, the pair of them levelled their weapons, and unleashed hell.

Bullets tore into JP's kitchen, and I only just managed to duck as they fired, leaving the rounds to slam into JP's glass cabinets, smashing them into oblivion. Broken glass showered down on me, a few tiny beads piercing my skin and drawing tiny drops of blood to the surface, where they trickled down my neck.

[B]"Trying to play a little hide and seek, are we, little boy?"[/B] came a slightly manic voice from above me. I looked up and saw the insane face of Joe looking down on me from his place atop the counter, both his rifles aimed at me.

[B]"I guess you found me, asshole,"[/B] I retorted, whipping my revolver out of the shoulder holster and firing a round into his left foot through the surface, all quick as a flash. A splatter of blood flew into the air, some of it returning to land on the counter, more of it splashing across my face. Joe fell backwards off the counter, clutching his foot, trying to stem the flow of blood, and thus dropping both his weapons.

I leapt to my feet, the immediate threat of Joe's bullets taken care of for the moment, and raised my revolver, aiming directly at Annie's head. She never faltered for a second, even though I could easily have blown her head off with a single shot.

[B]"So tell me, Annie,"[/B] I said calmly, [B]"What are you doing in this neck of the woods? You don't normally get many high-profile contractors out here in the sticks."
[/B]
[B]"You hurt Joe,"[/B] she said, her voice so icy and emotionless that it sent shivers down my spine, [B]"That was a mistake."[/B]

[B]"Oh now, Annie,"[/B] I said with a mock laugh, which sounded fairly weak once it came out, [B]"You're avoiding the question. Who sent you?"[/B]

[B]"I'd look out behind you,"[/B] she said, still cold and indifferent. I spun round for a moment, and saw Joe, aiming one of his rifles at me, his other hand clutching his wounded foot.
[B]
"That...that fucking hurt, jackass,"[/B] he said, apparently amazed that a bullet in the foot might cause pain.

[B]"Put your gun down,"[/B] said JP, now revealing himself from his hiding place behind the futon, his revolver now aimed at Joe. In a flicker, I reached into my (now rather tattered) jacket and pulled out my H&K, aiming it at Joe. Annie moved one of her Desert Eagles to aim at JP.

Fucking brilliant. The last thing I was expecting when I woke up this morning was a Mexican standoff, especially not at my best friend's house. I heard sirens in the distance.

This day was getting worse and worse...

---

Hope I represented The Riot in a decent way - I looked at your description of them in the story and worked off that. I wasn't quite sure if the "Joe as a maniac and Annie as a cold fish" idea was entirely right.

And Mike, you flatter me. You are definitely a far better option for writing The Hit than me. I have trouble writing consistently well for that long.
[/FONT][/center]
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[SIZE="1"]Oh geez. It's gonna be a shoot-out, is it Sakura? ;P

And in regards to your note, Mike, I realized that when I was writing it, but I was basing my post off of KW's. We're going to change it now so that our Boss is just an unidentified character (for the time being anyway).[/SIZE]
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[color=darkred][size=1]

Terrific everyone. Thanks Kitty.

Phil, seriously dude, you're nailing every note, man. I'm loving the work you're doing. Joe and Annie are fantastic as you are writing them. I also like the writing style in general, very "The Hit", haha.[/color][/size]
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[size=1][color=#8B008B]Listen close to what I?m about to tell you because I choose my words carefully and I never repeat what I say. The events which I?m about to tell you are by no means items of fiction. They are as real as the heart that beats within you. Everything that I?m about to tell you will affect your past and your future. You ask how? Well, as Hamlet said before: To die, to sleep. To sleep, perchance to dream?ay, there?s the rub, for in that sleep of death what dreams may come.

+ + + + +


[B]?Alright, sweetheart. Let?s do this one?more?time.?[/B]

Right then and there, I wanted to break free the chains that held me down and mangle that thick neck of the man across me. But I couldn?t, could I? I was confined to an uncomfortable, dingy chair by means of handcuffs to my legs and wrists. I had to settle for digging my nails into the arms of the chair. It wasn?t so much the stench of the room that I was in that irritated me. It wasn?t he, himself, who infuriated me. It wasn?t even the fact that I was chained to this uncomfortable chair that I despised. It was calling me ?sweetheart? that made my eye twitch and gave me a desire to gut him like a deer?slowly.

If not for the handcuffs, this man would?ve become my next living toy. Luckily for him, the only damage that I could do, thus far, would be with the sharpened words that fell off of my tongue.

[B]?Look, you cretin. I?m going to say this once and only once: I hate pet names, especially Baby and Sweetheart. I have an actual name.?[/B] I watched his movements and noticed a slight change. Knowing I had peaked a small interest, I leaned back in my chair. [B]?And as much as I look like a street-corner whore to you right now; no amount of money in the world would make me be your sweetheart...not with that grungy coif of yours.?[/B]

It must?ve been the smirk that I had on my face because the man lunged towards me with an outstretched arm but was stopped by his partner. Kwai had always told me I had my big, loud mouth to blame for all of my troubles- whether it was locked with a taken man?s lips or spewing insults and wit like it was now. I mean, after all, it was what had gotten him nearly killed. Nonetheless, my mouth was the reason I was sitting in a chair with two men- one lurking around in the shadows near the doorway and the other on the other side of the table- interrogating me.

Sitting there, I couldn?t help but chuckle when I thought about Kwai and our adventures. It was what kept me from driving back to insanity and breaking my own bones just to rip apart the men in the room. As far as the interrogation went, these men who presented themselves as private investigators clearly never heard of the term ?shoot then ask questions later.? Then again, they were part of an organization in the city of Otaku. If I learned anything from my times with Kwai, you couldn?t trust anyone who was serving under Big Brother.

The ?investigator? that was sitting in front of me stood and walked into the shadows. The dimly lit swinging lamp overhead wasn?t much of any help to me. I could feel their words breathing all around me and their eyes burning into my skin. It wasn?t long until the door creaked open and light flooded into the room. Once my eyes adjusted to the bright light, my eyes opened wide for the first time in a long time. Standing before me was a man I thought had died?but I was dead wrong.[/size][/color]
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[center][FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]My palms began to sweat and I clutched my weapons even tighter because of it. If any one of us pulled the trigger, even by accident, we'd all be dead, and I didn't know about anyone else here, but I hadn't planned on that when I got up this morning.

[B]"Everybody in the house drop your weapons!"[/B] came a booming voice from outside. The cops had arrived. [B]"Drop your weapons or we will be forced to open fire!"[/B]

No-one wavered.

[B]"You have ten seconds!"[/B]

Still no-one moved an inch, everyone's eyes flicking between each of our individual targets.

A few moments later, four small objects crashed through what was left of the front of the house, landing on the floor between the four of us. We all looked down to them, and immediately leapt away from them, before they could start spewing their fumes into the house.

It wasn't long before tear gas began to fill up the room. I pulled my tie off and clamped it over my mouth with one hand, running for the fridge. I wrenched the appliance open and grabbed a bottle of milk, then kicked the back door down and ran out into the garden. A billowing cloud of tear gas followed me, and I hurled myself over the fence into the next garden to JP's. I hit the ground hard, the impact driving all the air out of my body, and I gasped as I pulled the cap off the milk and poured the entire contents of the bottle into my eyes. I'd learned this trick a few years ago - as tear gas was a basic acid, once it got into your eyes it started to irritate them, so you needed to neutralise the acid with something alkali, the most common substance in most houses being milk. So I'd be attracting cats until I managed to shower, but the burning sting in my eyes was gone.

I got shakily to my feet, hoping that everyone in the house had got out alright (even Annie and Joe - it would be a shame to lose two legendary assassins to the cops), and began to run, across gardens, to the city centre.

---

I hauled myself through the broken window into my apartment. I wasn't planning on staying here long, just long enough to grab a few things, maybe change my clothes. I started into the bedroom, when suddenly something clicked in my head.

The bodies were gone.

I stood, looking at the doorway, where the bodies of the four cops I had killed this morning were lying before I'd cleared out. There was nothing left, not even any bloodstains soaked into the floor. Someone had come and cleaned up, and that made no sense. If someone was trying to frame me for murder, why wouldn't they leave plain evidence in my apartment that I'd killed four people? I stepped over to the doorway, and looked down. There was nothing there, even the smell was gone. I knlet down to check the floor, and still nothing. I raised an eyebrow, but there was nothing I could really do right now. I got to my feet and went to the bedroom.

The ensuite bathroom still had the shaving light on from where I had left the apartment this morning. I stepped in and ran the cold tap, splashing my face with the icy water that gushed out, trying to wash the dried milk, blood and sweat off my skin. I washed my hands extensively as well, the blood on my digits now congealing and becoming sticky. Then I stripped off my jacket and shirt, my tie left in JP's back garden, and dabbed a little antiseptic from the medicine cabinet behind my mirror onto the various wounds that I had incurred during the day. I winced a little as the liquid burned on the scar tissue that was already forming.

I stepped back into the bedroom, and stripped off my trousers, leaving them in a pile with my jacket and shirt in the corner of the room. I didn't exactly have time to do laundry right now. I opened my wardrobe, and pulled out a pair of black combat trouser, with multiple pockets, a black t-shirt and a black jacket, with a high collar, and again, with multiple pockets. Soft-soled black boots were my footwear of choice, good for stealth purposes, but also tough and sturdy for heavy use.

A few minutes later, I stepped out of my bedroom, fully dressed and equipped for what I was preparing to do. I grabbed a black rucksack from a hook on the wall, and put a few things inside, including my laptop computer, my digital video camera, and some extra ammo for both my handguns, which I reloaded here and now, then zipped it shut and swung it on my back.

I opened a cupboard in my living room and pulled out a plain black leather suitcase. Dialling the combination, I flicked the catches open and lifted the lid, placing it on the kitchen counter. It was full of piles of paper money, wrapped up in bundles and placed neatly in the suitcase. I needed the money for my next stop.

It was time to pay DW a visit.

---

Urgh, a fairly short and not particularly brilliant chapter to mark the beginning of the end. Probably about two or three more chapters to go and The Director's saga will be over.

For now...
[/FONT][/center]
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[indent][font=timesnewroman][b]?FUCK!?[/b] Staring down at my trembling right hand, I quickly noted that my wound was not permanently damaging, but it still hurt like fuck. I had dropped one of my pistols, but Tiana had grabbed it and the two of us fired off several rounds at our assailant as we ran, though I doubted that we were hitting anything other than pavement and the occasional car. Running with my large duffel bag, a wounded firing hand, shooting over my shoulder, and dealing with the rain all at the same time was getting rather annoying pretty damn fast, so I was greatly relieved to see Tiana's car only a little ways away.

[b]?I [i]knew[/i] it was a set-up,?[/b] Tiana barked at me as I fumbled through my pockets to find my fresh magazines. I tossed her one and practically bit through my lip as I switched my own, trying my best not to acknowledge the pain in my right hand. I'm not necessarily a lefty, but I had practiced enough so that it wasn't impossible for me to shoot someone were my right hand injured, as was currently the case.

[b]?Well [i]sor-ree[/i],?[/b] I growled back as a bullet whizzed by my ear, [b]?But if you hadn't noticed, there's only [i]one[/i] shooter from what I can tell, and they keep aiming at [i]me[/i]!?[/b]

I didn't get a reply as Tiana had shoved herself into her car as I was talking and was already pulling away down the street. It was incredibly difficult to open the passenger-side door as I was still running awkwardly to catch up, and the rain made everything slippery. Yet another reason why I [i]hate[/i] the fucking rain. She managed to open it for me as a few more bullets just missed my head, and she screamed at me to jump in. Normally I would've made a comment about her rude invitation, but I'd rather deal with her annoying shouting than bullets.

Once inside the car, I rummaged through her glove compartment to find a small first-aid kit. Inside was a pair of tweezers, some gauze, and other basic items useful for injuries you sustain in our line of work. Taking out the gauze, I made several pained noises as I promptly wrapped up the wound. There was quite a bit of blood on my sleeve and pistol, but I ignored it. Blood was a welcome sight, even if some of it was my own. What [i]really[/i] had me upset was the dampness of all my clothing. I wished desperately for a towel, but since when did wishing get me anything?

[b]?Shit that was lucky,?[/b] Tiana smiles, noting the clean hole in my hand. [b] ?Could've done a lot more damage.?[/b]

[b]?I know that, but I don't think you ever use the word 'lucky' when referring to a gunshot wound,?[/b] I sneered, taking a look out the rear windshield to make sure we weren't being followed. I think that was the only time I've ever been relieved to see only rain pouring down behind me.

[center]~[/center]

We ended up back at her place, seeing as I was convinced the shooter had been after me and didn't want to go back to my own apartment. She thought I was just pissed off that I got shot and she didn't that I wanted to bother her for the rest of the night, which is stupid. Well, me being pissed off was true, but the rest of her theory was dumb. I fell onto her couch, exhausted from the pain in my hand and all the running I had to do in the rain. That stupid, [i]god damn[/i] rain. It had me soaking wet but too tired to find a towel and sneak a change of clothes from Tiana's closet, which was my original plan before I had sat down and discovered how comfortable her couch's pillows were.

[b]?Hunter's not here,?[/b] she said, accidentally very loudly from the bedroom, forcing me to raise one of my recently lowered eye lids.

[b]?Who the [i]hell[/i]... is Hunter??[/b] I managed to ask, though I sounded more irritated than I had originally intended. She came out from the bedroom with a rather inexpressive face, which instantly registered in my mind as, ?There's something wrong.? As if she had read my mind, she waved passively at me with an annoyed look on her face and turned back around and headed into her kitchen.

[b]?It doesn't matter. Besides, who he is is none of your business, Kitty,?[/b] she began while making herself something to drink.

[b]?You woke me up when I was starting to fall asleep. You know how [i]loud[/i] you have to be to do that. Why does it matter if he isn't here? Should he be??[/b]

[b]?It's not?... He shouldn't [i]be[/i] here, it's just that? ...?[/b] She stopped and started like this a couple more times before I got tired of it and interrupted her by clearing my throat very loudly. I gave her a look that clearly told her to just [i]get on with it[/i], and she took another minute or two to finally start speaking clearly. [b]?I was just hoping he'd still be here.?[/b]

I opened my mouth to ask her if this guy was her boyfriend or something, but someone knocking loudly on the door interrupted me. I immediately grabbed for one of my pistols with my uninjured hand, but she told me to calm down and lower it. I glared at her for a bit, which she returned with a stone-faced expression of her own, then tried my ?PWEASE?? expression again, but this time it didn't work. Maybe she's immune to it in her own home or something.

Anyway, she went to open the door while I stayed on the couch, wishing I could go back to napping, but too uncomfortable because of my wet clothing, and too paranoid because whoever had shot me in the hand was still out there and there was a large possibility that they had managed to follow us and track me down here. So, I sat up straight, my pistol cocked and loaded in my hand, pointed subtly (subtly as in hidden by one of her pillows so she wouldn't see it and yell at me from the doorway) at the door. She opened it and I could hear a small gasp come from her mouth as she wrapped her arms around whoever was outside. I figured it was this Hunter person coming back. Just as I was confident that I could [i]finally[/i] take a nap, there was suddenly a gun pointed at her face. I stayed silent and, as quietly as I could, I dashed across the room and crouched behind a corner so that I could still peek around and see the two of them, but they couldn't see me.

Now that I was closer, I was able to hear more of what the two were saying. I caught the end of Tiana's last sentence, and her voice was oddly shaky.

[b]?... Hunter, so why are you pointing a gun at me??[/b]

[b] ?I'm sorry, Tiana, really, I didn't think??[/b] Hunter rambled on, seemingly as upset about this as Tiana was. Though his finger rested on the trigger, he didn't look like he was going to pull it soon. I quietly cheered for her to get the courage to pull out her own gun and intimidate him into dropping his weapon. Again, as if she could hear my thoughts, she slowly reached up to a gun she had hidden on her person, and quickly held it up in Hunter's startled face. [b] ?Wha???[/b]

[b]?Hunter, I don't want to kill you.?[/b]

[b]?I don't want to kill you either. But I have to.?[/b]

[b]?Then I'll have to kill you first.?[/b]

And then... They stood there. Painfully still. For [i]ages[/i]. I was so bored I practically fell asleep where I was crouching, but my wet clothing kept me awake. After a while I got tired of waiting and stood up, which startled this Hunter guy for a second or two. He seemed kinda shaky, so I assumed he must actually have a pretty big thing for Tiana. She, on the other hand, seemed more calm.

[b]?Oi, anyone going to get shot anytime soon??[/b] I asked in my impatient tone. The two glanced at me several times, but kept their guns pointed at one another. I rolled my eyes before lifting my own gun at the guy in the doorway, which surprisingly startled them both quite a bit. [b] ?If [i]you[/i] guys aren't going to, then I [i]will[/i].?[/b]

Bang.

Thud.

[b]?Tiana!?[/b] Hunter and I shouted in unison.[/font][/indent]

[size=1][center]~[/center]
The rest is for you to finish, KW. ;3 And sorry to Sakura for kinda, y'know, [i]ignoring[/i] your character. Meant for there to be a bigger chase scene, but got lazy/frustrated and started over what I originally had, and it turned out better this way, 'cept you kinda disappeared rather quickly. >__>;; Sorry again! D:[/size]
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  • 8 months later...
[color=darkred][size=1]

The Hit 2 is currently under way and your characters will be used in the near future, despite the very, very long break in between the two works. Anyone still interested in contributing themselves to the mythology of The Hit are welcome to continue and I will try my best to work you into the plot or future storylines.

- Zen[/color][/size]
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[SIZE="1"][FONT="Book Antiqua"][COLOR="DarkSlateGray"]There I sat, my hands folded together, and my hat over my face while I slept. I was only 14, yet I was a prodigy. I was very skilled with a gun, and even better with a blade in my hands. Oh, my name you ask? My name was Richard, but I decided to give myself an even better moniker. My other name: Premonition. Or as my close friends called me, Prem. I always had a knack for telling when bad stuff was about to go down., and that is how I obtained my name.

Indeed, I could foretell the bad, well I wasn?t very good at it, but it?s saved my ass a few times. But I never gave my friends advice, I did once and got someone killed, so I stopped giving friends advice. But it?s because of my strange ability that I?m here now taking a nap in a simple restaurant. Cause about oh, two hours or so ago, I was standing in an ally with my hands behind my back. I should of guessed what my girlfriend was up to, she was working for my arch-enemy, Greco. Believe it or not, I?m not the only 14 year old in the assassination business.

What, did you think I played with toy guns and plastic swords? Bah! Those days are done and over with, now I?m playing with the big kids who don?t whine when you beat them at ?Cops and Robbers.? Alas, I?m getting off track with my stories. We know, I?m 14, I?m talented. But where?s the proof?

I?ll tell you where the proof is, behind the ally in the dumpster. How it happened? that?s hard to remember, but I can manage.

[CENTER]---[/CENTER]

[B]?Well Prem, you going on a date with that blonde chick you met during vacation?? [/B]Conrad asked me. Conrad was my best pal, despite our many arguments.

[B]?Yeah, I?m meeting her at Ronald?s Music Shop this afternoon, she?s a fucking hottie dude!?[/B] I cheered as I clenched a note from my new girlfriend. [B]?And I think her name is, Daisy? yeah, I?m pretty sure.? [/B]

Conrad was sitting in a chair that sat in the corner of my apartment. Thanks to my ?connections? I was able to obtain an apartment, lucky me! I was sitting on my couch with my hands folded, and my hat over my face. Yeah, I do that a lot, it?s a habit. Conrad shook his head.

[B]?It?s funny you forgot your name, you two are going to go places!? [/B]Conrad joked.

[B]?Hardy har har Conrad. My memory has been fuzzy lately, my last mission didn?t go so well, remember?? [/B]I asked Conrad rolling my eyes.

[B]?Oh yeah, I forgot about that bang to the head you got!?[/B] He said to me smiling. I just wanted to go behind him and tug his hair until his head came off. But I was lazy and I didn?t want to get up, so I just took my hat off, smiled and gave him the finger.

[B]?Suck on this for a bit.?[/B] I said. [B]?Well, I better get going, I only have a few hours before my date with Daisy! I just hope she isn?t a wilted flower.? [/B]I put my hat on and walked toward the door, [B]?Watch the place while I?m gone, I might pay you.?[/B]

Conrad nodded and sat back in his chair. [B]?If you have any money left that is.?[/B] He said. I smiled and opened the door. The smell of Spring came in and I coughed. Love was in the air, or maybe it was the scent of pain at the time, I couldn?t tell. But the sun was shining. Before I left, I remembered to get my gun, just incase something happened. Glad I remembered or I?d be telling this to St. Peter? or Satan.

[CENTER]---[/CENTER]

Ronald?s music shop was my local Otaku City hang out, they had a good collection of music, and a good collection of femme fatale?s, too bad that was more truth than fiction. I was looking around at the ?Agalloch? section hoping to find Pale Folklore, but I was fucked as usual. They always had the tab there that had the artist?s name on it, but damn it they didn?t have a single Agalloch CD in stock, and the tab has been there for about six months.

I rolled my eyes and looked at the door. Than I took a look at my watch, it was half past three, Daisy was going to be here in a bit. I licked my lips in hunger we were going to eat dinner at the breakfast house. I remember that day, it was the day I became Priscilla due to a freak accident, me and Conrad went there often. But it?s not breakfast! You?re probably saying right now. I know, but they have killer sausage? and so don?t I.

I looked at the door a second time and there, low and behind, there she was. Daisy, the vixen I?ve known for a week. She was tall, about five foot five and she was wearing a small shirt and short shorts. Who likes short shorts? I love short shorts!

I walked over to her and held out my hand. [B]?You must be daisy??[/B] I asked the obvious, but meh, at least I didn?t say ?let?s cut to the chase, kiss me!?

[B]?Of coarse I am!?[/B] She said cheerfully as she hugged me close to her double-ds. I tried my best to not think of them bare, but I was 14, I couldn?t help myself. [B]?You look awfully young for a twenty-five year old?!? [/B]She said surprisingly. I sut blushed and chuckled.

[B]?Eh, I?m just a late bloomer I guess!?[/B] I said holding her hand. Thank god she didn?t know I was a minor. Or so I thought at the time.

[B]?Hey, I dropped something in the ally behind this place, do you think we could go check it out?? [/B]Daisy asked me as she flipped her long, elegant blonde air. I was too amazed to talk so I just nodded. She smiled and out we went. A minute later we were both in the ally. But that was the last thing I remembered before blacking out.

[CENTER]---[/CENTER]

[B]?I hear you?re working for Black Hand??[/B] I awoke to hear Daisy asking me an odd question. Igave her a queer look, she was starring at me with anger.

[B]?What's it to you? Hell who sent you?? [/B]I asked frantically as I noticed the gun Daisy was pointing at my head.

[B]?Greco Jackson, my boss.?[/B] Daisy said. I just smiled. Daisy had tied my hands up, so I wasn?t able to get out. So I did what any other assassin would do? SMACK! I banged my head against hers. I hit her gun with the side of my head knocking it our of her hands. She fell backwards into a puddle of what I assumed was beer.

[B]?Greco?? [/B]I asked as I started laughing uncontrollably and I almost pissed myself. I had taken out a knife that I hid in my sleeve, I always had it with me. So I cut off what tied me and I pulled out my gun, I carefully aimed it at Daisy?s head.

[B]?You wouldn?t shoot a woman would you??[/B] She asked me as if I was going to give her mercy.

[B]?why not? You just tried shooting a 14 year old!? [/B]I stuck out my tongue, cocked my gun and applied a bit of pressure to the trigger. [B]?Hosta lavista baby.? [/B]I joked as the gun shot. The sound of my gun shot resonated throughout the ally. I took Daisy?s body and put it in the dumpster. I looked on the ground to see her ID. She was an agent of Greco, the heir to the Jackson Assassin Association group. Greco was 14 like me and after his father died, he became the leader of the ill-named group of thugs. JAA was my nemesis, but luckily the organization I was a part of didn?t say no to me wanting to destroy their leader.

I took the money from her wallet and walked to the Breakfast House.
---

[B]"Conrad, I?m back, is the place clean?!?[/B] I yelled, I looked around the house and I didn?t get an answer from Conrad. I walked into my bedroom to get on my computer, cause maybe he went home. But when I walked in, there was his body covered in blood. He suffered a blow to his head that smacked the living shit out of him. There was blood everywhere and his body was covered in cuts. On his chest there was a note from my employer.

I read the note and I was shocked.

[B][CENTER]?Good news Richard? you?re fired!

-Black Hand?[/CENTER][/B]

I looked at the window of my room, it was open and there was blood on the window sill. I grinded my teeth and fell to the floor. Someone in Black Hand killed my friend? now they too were my nemesis. Now all I want is revenge. And one name in my head rung throughout my mind??The Boss.?
[CENTER]-------------------------[/CENTER]

I hope you don't mind me incorperating you and Black hand into my story. Thanks for reading it!
[/COLOR][/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE="1"]The room was dark. A small reddish-purple glow illuminated the stage up front where some mediocre band strummed mediocre tunes in the Pink Eye which happened to be my bar of choice on most nights of the week.

Smoke filled the air, filling my lungs with heavenly chemicals. I was actually beginning to enjoy myself, (whether it was from the alcohol or genuine enjoyment, was beyond me) when she walked in.

It wasn't uncommon to see Kailen in the Pink Eye. After all, she was the one who had introduced me to the club. But it was rare to see her around OtakuCity after her hiatus.

[B]"Didn't know you were back in town,"[/B] I said

[B]"Just passing through, Darren, nothing permanent."[/B] She slid into the seat across from me and removed the ponytail from her hair.

[B]"I see you know me better than I thought."[/B]

[B]"I know your hide-outs. We are married, after all. But that's not what I'm here to talk about."[/B] She said, removing her sunglasses. The fact that we were married meant nothing. I suppose our current status could be classified as 'separated.' [COLOR="Red"][B]1[/B][/COLOR]

[B]"It never is."[/B] I said, taking another long drag from my cigarette, [B]"Is this business?"[/B]

[B]"Personal."[/B] She said bluntly. [B]"I need to know everything you know on The Boss."[/B]

The question was shocking. Kailen asking me for help about one of her friends. With all the interaction Mike and I had, I would hardly even call us acquaintances. He came to me when he needed info. The kind that no one but me could give, but considering Mike's profession, it hardly meant more than a meeting once a year.

[B]"You know him better than I do."[/B]

[B]"Obviously not enough to know what he did in his spare time."[COLOR="red"]2[/COLOR][/B]

[B]"The Boss' personal life is his own. I didn't know him better than someone I met on the street."[/B]

[B]"You're a hacker, Darren. You can find out about him, easy. Just like you hep him out when he needs it."[/B]

[B]You said it's personal, but I only hear business talk. How much money you have?"[/B]

[B]"Are you seriously going to make me pay? Your own wife?"[/B] I could hear he anger in her voice. Kailen was one of the first people I bonded with in Otaku City.

[B]"Man's gotta eat. I'm broke and unless I owe you a debt or you pay, I won't access that information."[/B]

[B]"You sound like a fucking robot. I'm broke too, that's why I'm only in town for a little bit. Can't you just do me a favor?"[/B]

I knew she'd pull that card. Her hand drifted to mine, revealing her wedding wing that she still obviously wore, and she looked deep into my eyes. As I pulled away, she took the cigarette from between my fingers and took a small puff before putting it out in the ashtray.

[B]"You can't tell me anything?"[/B]

[B]"Sorry."[/B]

She looked hurt. Like she was on the verge of crying. [B]"Why do you protect him so much."[/B]

[B]"Because he's the reason I'm alive."[COLOR="red"]3[/B][/COLOR]

She stood and headed towards the door. [B]"Thanks for all your help, Pulse."[/B] [COLOR="red"][B]4[/B][/COLOR] She'd never called me by that name. I wondered if that was the end of our broken marriage. [B]"Sorry I bothered you. I'll call you for some real information when I have the cash."[/B] And then she left me to my drink and the mediocre band playing up front.

[CENTER]~~~~~~~~~~[/CENTER]

[COLOR="Red"]1) Kailen (Trigun 11) and Darren are married. But after experiencing public humiliation in court due to Kailen's obsession with Sephiroth, (The character, not the user) the couple decided that it was best to take a little break. She left Otaku City, returning every once in a while to check up on things.

2) The Boss (now known as Zen) is a very close friend of Kailen's. However, when she recently discovered his profession as a contract killer, she was terribly hurt. In fact, it was this knowledge that helped her decision of leaving Otaku City.

3) Zen saved Darren a long time ago when a DB's card game, went terribly wrong. HellsMinion6676, who was new to the area, believed Darren to have hacked the game, giving him an unfair advantage. Hells lost everything in that game, and blamed Darren without any proof. He almost threw him off a building before Zen jumped in and helped. Because of that, Darren takes care of any favors that Mike has.

4) Pulse is the name that most of Darren's clients know him as. Between two lovers, it is probably not a term of endearment.[/SIZE][/COLOR]
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[size=1][color=#8B008B]The man stood in the doorway where the light barely touched. I saw him pat the shoulder of one of the interrogators who left the room. He stepped into the room and let the door close behind him, its hinges creaking. He walked towards me and I sat there, wide-eyed and teeth clenched tight. He came closer and closer until he sat on the edge of the table in front of me. My eyes trailed his body from the tip of his shoes to the crown of his head. He was no different from when I last saw him; yet there was something different about him.

I averted my eyes slowly from him and looked forward. I steadied my breathing as I contrasted the man beside and the man I knew long ago. This man wore a beautiful white suit with diamond cufflinks and black tie; the man I knew in my past wore the opposite: black suit with onyx cufflinks and white tie. Yet he was still devilishly handsome as he always was. It always amazed me how oddly handsome he looked with his muss black hair and soft Japanese features.

Yet in that moment, it wasn’t his good looks that made my blood boil or my muscles tighten. I wasn’t quite sure if it was the shock or the disbelief that I felt but there was something not quite right with him. Here stood the man that I knew a good portion of my life, the man that I thought I had killed with my own hands.

I looked up at him and said, [B]“You’re late, Kwai.”[/B]

He chuckled and replied, [B]“I was caught in traffic, Erica.”[/B]

I let out a scoff and balled my hands into a fist, cracking them as I did. Neither of us spoke after that. The only sound that could be heard was the creaking of the swinging lamp and Kwai’s shuffling feet. I watched him kneel down onto the ground then watched him bend over my wrists. When he stood back up, the fetters that restrained me were released and thrown on the table. He stood with arms folded as he watched me stand and stretch my legs.

[B]“You look well, Erica.”[/B] I could tell he was trying to make small-talk. It was his signature: make the enemy comfortable yet nervous and then pounce on him unsuspectingly. [B]“And the scar on your hand seems to have healed pretty well.”[/B]

[B]“Yes, it has healed pretty well.”[/B] I subconsciously rubbed my thumb against the risen scar on my wrist. I then remembered the scar I’d given Kwai. [B]“And the scar under your jaw seems to have healed over.”[/B]

Kwai chuckled. [B]“You still remember that? Your memory’s sharp.”

“You have no idea, dear brother.”[/B] The tone in my voice was filled with anger and acid. [B]“And speaking of memory, I killed you. How is it that you’re still alive?”

“You never actually killed me, Erica.”[/B]

The door opened again before I could speak. I turned to see what Kwai was looking at. In the doorway stood one of the most- if not the most- dangerous woman I would ever meet in my life.

[B]“Raiha.”[/B]



Yeah, a bit late- three years late- but I still got the second part in. Now, hopefully I'll get the third bit in. Anywho, here's to the history of Erica. Cheers.[/size][/color]
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