MURDERAN: THE STORY OF A ONE-ARMED MAN AND HOW HE TOUCHED PEOPLES' LIVES
Who: Ladd Russo, J.J, Moses, Alexander Wolfgang, Firo Prochainezo, Zack Fair, Allen Walker, Miles Edgeworth, Jonathan Teatime
What: Ladd's Fun Murder Spree Adventure!
Where: All around Nautilus!
When: Late Saturday afternoon into the night.
Warnings: Character death. Copious violence. Probably language especially considering we have an Alex.
Notes: This event! Here's what's going down. I'll make an OOC comment within this log if you want to handwave your character's murder. Otherwise, reply to this post in individual threads! ( other than Allen and Edgey when the time comes, obviously. )
I apologize in advance for any possible delayed replies. you see there are these sea cats and they keep getting in my face and murdering this one guy's family.
On that Friday, just like everyone else, Ladd woke up from his little smoky dream. Just like everyone else, he was confused; just like everyone else, he cursed the city and himself for what had happened and what he'd done. Just like everyone else, he was quite willing to pretend it didn't happen.
But to call Ladd 'just like everyone else' for too long was obviously a lie. Because he was not like everyone else in so many important ways. Ladd, unlike everyone else, was willing to pretend it didn't happen, but wasn't satisfied with that. He couldn't be satisfied with shrugging what had happened off. What he had said. And why should he be? This was Nautilus, the City of Change. Anything and everything would happen, and he had absolute freedom. Why not satisfy his irritation with that absolute freedom?
Looked back on the calendar. How long had it been since he'd done a thing for the people in this city? And as he looked, he realized that he'd never done anything in Nautilus. No wonder! No wonder he was so annoyed and frustrated at a little thing like this! It was all building up like steam in a tea kettle, and only now was he letting that whistle. They were all worse in this city, and he'd just been sitting around doing nothing. Oh, sure, he thought about it - almost constantly, Ladd was thinking about it. Whenever he talked to someone, it was so hard not to think about their corpse and how they would reach that state, in what manner, with what weapon, and with what expression?
They would never think about it, because they were so secure. Who would kill them? They wouldn't die. And even if they died, they would come back. They didn't care about death. They didn't think about it. Ladd knew that. And even then, they made a big show of it when someone died. So it meant something, after all. Just like home. It was only ignorance that kept them from looking down while they walked that sharp tightrope that was life.
Ladd was sad. Because he thought of Graham locked up in that cell. He couldn't come. He couldn't do anything at all like that. Unless all of it was something he'd hallucinated - but why would it be? Aya had been there too, lots of other people had been there too. No, Ladd was quite sure that the one who called him 'Boss' was locked up tight in some godforsaken cell down in the Southern District, and he was also sure that he couldn't bust him out of there. What a shame. But wasn't that a better reason to go out? That this had happened? They called that 'revenge,' and it wasn't a dish that Ladd was unfamiliar with.
On that Saturday, just like everyone else, Ladd went out. As the evening crept on, he put on a trim and dark suit, fixing the buttons. He said goodbye to Lua, and he hinted at what would happen, and he told her to stay put, dame, because I don't want something troublesome happenin' to you again. He took up his shotgun, but he had an arsenal in his mind ready to pop into his hands whenever he wanted. Ladd went out to meet some new faces, say hello to old faces.
But, most importantly, he went out to say goodbye.
What: Ladd's Fun Murder Spree Adventure!
Where: All around Nautilus!
When: Late Saturday afternoon into the night.
Warnings: Character death. Copious violence. Probably language especially considering we have an Alex.
Notes: This event! Here's what's going down. I'll make an OOC comment within this log if you want to handwave your character's murder. Otherwise, reply to this post in individual threads! ( other than Allen and Edgey when the time comes, obviously. )
I apologize in advance for any possible delayed replies. you see there are these sea cats and they keep getting in my face and murdering this one guy's family.
On that Friday, just like everyone else, Ladd woke up from his little smoky dream. Just like everyone else, he was confused; just like everyone else, he cursed the city and himself for what had happened and what he'd done. Just like everyone else, he was quite willing to pretend it didn't happen.
But to call Ladd 'just like everyone else' for too long was obviously a lie. Because he was not like everyone else in so many important ways. Ladd, unlike everyone else, was willing to pretend it didn't happen, but wasn't satisfied with that. He couldn't be satisfied with shrugging what had happened off. What he had said. And why should he be? This was Nautilus, the City of Change. Anything and everything would happen, and he had absolute freedom. Why not satisfy his irritation with that absolute freedom?
Looked back on the calendar. How long had it been since he'd done a thing for the people in this city? And as he looked, he realized that he'd never done anything in Nautilus. No wonder! No wonder he was so annoyed and frustrated at a little thing like this! It was all building up like steam in a tea kettle, and only now was he letting that whistle. They were all worse in this city, and he'd just been sitting around doing nothing. Oh, sure, he thought about it - almost constantly, Ladd was thinking about it. Whenever he talked to someone, it was so hard not to think about their corpse and how they would reach that state, in what manner, with what weapon, and with what expression?
They would never think about it, because they were so secure. Who would kill them? They wouldn't die. And even if they died, they would come back. They didn't care about death. They didn't think about it. Ladd knew that. And even then, they made a big show of it when someone died. So it meant something, after all. Just like home. It was only ignorance that kept them from looking down while they walked that sharp tightrope that was life.
Ladd was sad. Because he thought of Graham locked up in that cell. He couldn't come. He couldn't do anything at all like that. Unless all of it was something he'd hallucinated - but why would it be? Aya had been there too, lots of other people had been there too. No, Ladd was quite sure that the one who called him 'Boss' was locked up tight in some godforsaken cell down in the Southern District, and he was also sure that he couldn't bust him out of there. What a shame. But wasn't that a better reason to go out? That this had happened? They called that 'revenge,' and it wasn't a dish that Ladd was unfamiliar with.
On that Saturday, just like everyone else, Ladd went out. As the evening crept on, he put on a trim and dark suit, fixing the buttons. He said goodbye to Lua, and he hinted at what would happen, and he told her to stay put, dame, because I don't want something troublesome happenin' to you again. He took up his shotgun, but he had an arsenal in his mind ready to pop into his hands whenever he wanted. Ladd went out to meet some new faces, say hello to old faces.
But, most importantly, he went out to say goodbye.