In Which Morgan Posts a Third Person Section of an App as a Drabble
Writing Travis' Para app, came up with this for his third person. I love it so much, I had to post it separately as a drabble or short fic.
A man was walking down a street, a box of some Japanese cracker confection in one hand, a glorified and elongated flashlight (from the looks of it) twirling about in the other, and a familiar tune on his lips that severely damaged the fourth wall by simply being there in the first place. Interrupted only by the odd treat finding its way into his mouth and being succinctly devoured and enjoyed. It was the first chance he's had since the sequel to just kick back, so to speak, and relax.
Not to mention wander the streets of his glorious little city, Santa Destroy. Murder capital of the United States and home to more dead killers than all the prisons in Texas combined. Yeah, ever since the developers took away the free roaming, it had been all boiled down into some mad rushing from scene to scene. And sometimes it just got fucking obscene. Not that he had really been in a state to give a crap back then. Murder had been on his mind, thick like the flavoring coating of a Pocky and about as thorough when it came to covering his thoughts.
So what did he decide he wanted to do on his first weekend off since his roaring rampage of revenge?
That question wouldn't be answered until the street was long gone, replaced with dirty brown ground and foliage, with stone slabs buried into the ground in a pattern. He walked around them, one by one, looking down. Some names meant nothing to him, some of them did. He walked by one of the fresher graves, relatively speaking. It read but a single name, five letters long. Immortalized, so that the world wouldn't forget them. Just like he wouldn't.
But he didn't stop until he reached that grave.
Bishop Sidaks.
"Sidaks. Man, they really did fuck up your last name. What a pile of shit." It had been the first true chance he'd had to visit his friend. Some people, some people brought flowers. But Travis wasn't that kind of guy, and neither was Bishop. Instead, he pulled out a movie. Crows 2. The director, Takashi Miike. "No roses, Bishop. Well, unless there are roses in this movie. Can't say I've watched it, but I know you had a thing for the director. Besides, it's a DVD. This thing will outlive roses by centuries."
And with a sigh, Travis crouched down, brushing some of the dirt off of the grave and laying the DVD just in front of the slab.
"Look. I'm not gonna be around now. For a while at least. Wrapped up all the loose ends with this game, and with everything done with, there's no more need for no more heroes like me. Well, except for one person. Which is what I'm trying to say." Shifts a little, looking over his shoulder. "I'm going after her. A smart guy might be running the opposite direction, and I can't blame them. But I'm not smart. Not by a long shot. I'm fucking nuts. Which means there's only one way for me to go." He pats the grave before standing up and beginning to walk off.
"I'll see you later, Bishop. When Miike releases his next piece of work. We'll make a tradition of it or something." He calls over his shoulder, sighing to himself before reaching for his phone and letting his finger hover over a certain button. Before eventually just shifting away.
That's one feature that'll never come back.
A man was walking down a street, a box of some Japanese cracker confection in one hand, a glorified and elongated flashlight (from the looks of it) twirling about in the other, and a familiar tune on his lips that severely damaged the fourth wall by simply being there in the first place. Interrupted only by the odd treat finding its way into his mouth and being succinctly devoured and enjoyed. It was the first chance he's had since the sequel to just kick back, so to speak, and relax.
Not to mention wander the streets of his glorious little city, Santa Destroy. Murder capital of the United States and home to more dead killers than all the prisons in Texas combined. Yeah, ever since the developers took away the free roaming, it had been all boiled down into some mad rushing from scene to scene. And sometimes it just got fucking obscene. Not that he had really been in a state to give a crap back then. Murder had been on his mind, thick like the flavoring coating of a Pocky and about as thorough when it came to covering his thoughts.
So what did he decide he wanted to do on his first weekend off since his roaring rampage of revenge?
That question wouldn't be answered until the street was long gone, replaced with dirty brown ground and foliage, with stone slabs buried into the ground in a pattern. He walked around them, one by one, looking down. Some names meant nothing to him, some of them did. He walked by one of the fresher graves, relatively speaking. It read but a single name, five letters long. Immortalized, so that the world wouldn't forget them. Just like he wouldn't.
But he didn't stop until he reached that grave.
Bishop Sidaks.
"Sidaks. Man, they really did fuck up your last name. What a pile of shit." It had been the first true chance he'd had to visit his friend. Some people, some people brought flowers. But Travis wasn't that kind of guy, and neither was Bishop. Instead, he pulled out a movie. Crows 2. The director, Takashi Miike. "No roses, Bishop. Well, unless there are roses in this movie. Can't say I've watched it, but I know you had a thing for the director. Besides, it's a DVD. This thing will outlive roses by centuries."
And with a sigh, Travis crouched down, brushing some of the dirt off of the grave and laying the DVD just in front of the slab.
"Look. I'm not gonna be around now. For a while at least. Wrapped up all the loose ends with this game, and with everything done with, there's no more need for no more heroes like me. Well, except for one person. Which is what I'm trying to say." Shifts a little, looking over his shoulder. "I'm going after her. A smart guy might be running the opposite direction, and I can't blame them. But I'm not smart. Not by a long shot. I'm fucking nuts. Which means there's only one way for me to go." He pats the grave before standing up and beginning to walk off.
"I'll see you later, Bishop. When Miike releases his next piece of work. We'll make a tradition of it or something." He calls over his shoulder, sighing to himself before reaching for his phone and letting his finger hover over a certain button. Before eventually just shifting away.
That's one feature that'll never come back.