Post by Tlilecuahtli on Jul 29, 2018 23:07:07 GMT -5
The buildings stretched like an avenue of failure, destitution and recklessness.
The sick troddled the streets with death wishes and nothing to lose.
And the law was a sick puppy that had been beaten to death.
This was Winchester Island. And if your here. Well. Get out.
He had straddled himself in a rum Bottle shaped Bar, gaudy music that ran the same three notes on a broken Piano and booze spilt and tapered into every stretch of wooden planks. Here it was Aguila sat, a table of cards unfurled and rolled out as he ran his arm along, his right arm hidden in a metal carapace that clutched snatched the chips in droves as his slight of hand came in handy. Most of the people here were bottle fed and hungry, the Marines making pushes and setting up small Outposts. The Pirates and outlaws had started their own initiative, in the forest were rodents lived and bugs crawled, the Pirates and Outlaws had started their own counter-attack and Aguila was simply waiting for the light show to sneak in, take some treasure and runoff to go fund his meal for the week.
But, like any good story, where does it begin? Well, we can skip steps one and two of the Hero's Journey and get straight to step three. So, now we ask, where did the Challenge begin? Well. His sleight of hand may have fallen on deaf eyes at the table, but all around peered a dozen others, a bead of sweat rolling down his brow as he heard a uniform cock of the gun as at first, confused eyes rolled over the table, before catching a sneak peek at a card up his sleeve.
But, like any good story, where does it begin? Well, we can skip steps one and two of the Hero's Journey and get straight to step three. So, now we ask, where did the Challenge begin? Well. His sleight of hand may have fallen on deaf eyes at the table, but all around peered a dozen others, a bead of sweat rolling down his brow as he heard a uniform cock of the gun as at first, confused eyes rolled over the table, before catching a sneak peek at a card up his sleeve.
The hammers dropped in an explosion of cracks.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Ratatat, Ratatat, Ratatat.
Poof, poof...
Poof. It was like that he and a group of other Outlaws and Pirates ran headfirst, a line of blazing gunfire and dark smoke pocketed their location in clouded outlines as all around Aguila those he was conscripted with fell like hard bricks, while those considered more 'valuable' followed behind the drive of meat, letting them take the bullets so their 'elite' can break through with barely a scratch or bruise. It seemed things were going well for Aguila at least, only taking a rupturing shot to the shoulder, his metal arm taking the brunt of the blow as he dived over the lines, tackling a marine to the ground as a puff of force ruptured from his shield, the mans face left groggy and drowned as he fell down flat. The first line faltered, now they just had to make it the rest of the way.