William Halloran: He makes his way down
the street, eyes downcast, away from the hotel and toward a liquor store. The
giant's face is slack, shoulders slumped...one hand shoved into a pocket, the
other used to smoke that nail in his coffin. His mind is elsewhere, thoughts
scattered as he travels along.
Gunther Kasimir Berg: The skinhead is leaning
heavily against the bricks just outside a somewhat menacing alley. One hand is
stuffed loosely inside the deep pocket of his heavy trench, the other pulls a
black n mild to gruff lips for a hefty pull.
William Halloran:
d10: Per+Alert: 7,7,10,6,4,
Gunther Kasimir Berg: Gunther scans
pedestrians with a hard glare, looking for his next buyer.
Gunther Kasimir Berg:
d10: per+alert: 7,6,5,6,5,1,
William Halloran: Okay, the man may be out
of it, but he's still alert. Always alert. He shoots his eyes up at the sing of
the big man in the range of his visioin, eyes landing directly on the man. They
narrow dangerously, and he freezes. "You." He says it loud enough to be heard,
but hardly shouted. There's not even anger in it...it's disturbingly calm.
Gunther Kasimir Berg: Gunther allows his
hard blue eyes to lock on the brute, thumping his small cigar to the cold
pavement. "Ja. It's me. Been a while, Willy." He snorts, sizing the man up
defensively.
William Halloran: He doesn't say anything
else for the moment, just stands there, hulking monstrosity in the long coat
that he is. He stares at Gunther, slowly bringing the cigarette up to his
lips...taking a drag off of it. One green, one bloodshot eye locked on the
skinhead's form.
Gunther Kasimir Berg: The skinhead doesn't
seem phased. Perhaps foolishly confidint at being stared at by such a massive
figure. "Lotta shit went down at you ain't know bout, Willy. Bein all pissed at
me ain't gonna do nothin but shorten yer lifespan." He narrows his eyes at the
man "Ya got yerself in a shitty situation. Folks're lookin fer you. Bad folks.
Gunther can help, but ya gotta talk ta me. Gotta keep from doin somethin
stupid."
Gunther Kasimir Berg: (bp to stam)
William Halloran: "You ain't even sorry,
are ya?" He keeps his eyes on Gunther, as sociopathically even as his voice. "Ya
ain't give a rat fuck that ya killed 'er?"
William Halloran: ((Second question mark =
period. The second wasn't a question.))
Gunther Kasimir Berg: He flashes a mean
glare to the man. "Fuck you, Willy. Course I feel like shit bout it. Fuck, she
was onea tha coolest bitches I knew. D'you rather some sick fuck getta holda
her.. torture er fer weeks on end.. tear er bitch ass ta shreads fore finally
lettin er die? Fuck at. I did at bitch a favor. Feel like fuckin shit bout it,
but if it ain't been me.. it'da been someone ten times worse. Maybe more."
Gunther Kasimir Berg: (bp to stam)
William Halloran: Surprise flashes through
his eyes at that, and they waver for just a moment. "I had to carry her back in
bags, Gunther. Ya fuckin' made me carry her ass back and bury her...in bags. In
pieces." There's emotion in his voice now, the barest hints of sorrow and rage
and frustration breaking through. "Ya fuckin' cut her into pieces. Ya
fuckin'...raped 'er." His eye twitches. "Yeah, I know about that. Sady may not
believe me, from the way she ran off after I told 'er, but you an' I know that
Smithy was too fuckin' nuts to lie. Fuck, she didn't even know why I was angry
over it. 'cause it was all a game, right?"
Gunther Kasimir Berg: He sneers at the man. "At's
fuckt up, Willy. At bitch was all up on Gunther. I ain't rape shit. Ain't have
to." (bp to stam)
Gunther Kasimir Berg:
d10: man+sub(wp): 7,8,1,
William Halloran:
d10: Per+Subt (WP): 5,6,4,
William Halloran: He sneers a little bit.
"The truth'll set ya free, Gunther. I'm sure I heard that somewhere. Yer a piece
of shit. Ya don't chop up the body of someone ya care about and leave 'em in
tiny bits in an alleyway. Ya don't...fuckin'...ya don't KILL someone ya care
about. Yer a fuckin' monster." Voice definitely cracking now, hands shaking a
little bit, jaw clenched. He's staring absolute daggers through Gunther. "Yer
everything that's wrong with the world. Yer a bully, a rapist, a murderer. An'
yer the luckiest fuckin' monster I know."
Gunther Kasimir Berg: Gunther gives a
hateful scowl to the man and takes a brutish step forward "Ya think I'm a
monster, willy? Ya ain't seen monsters. That folks at're after you.. an were
after smithy.. them's some fuckin monsters. Now I'm bein pretty fuckin nice
about all this shit yer talkin bout me so I suggest you bite yer fuckin tongue
bout how shitty I am. I got reasons fer all tha shit I do. Just cause yer too
fuckin stupid ta know what those reasons are.. ain't mean shit ta gunther. I
ain't wanna see you end up like smithy."
William Halloran: He shakes his head. "My
life don't mean nothin', Gunther. Never has, an' never will. I thought it did,
for a while. Had you an' Ita. Remember my birthday?" His eyes squint, nearly
flinch. "Best day-a my entire life. Then Ita's gone, 'cause you wanted ta kill 'er.
Don' know why. Don't care. Ya done drove her away. An' still, I was nice. Was 'tween
you an' her, I just pretended it was nothin', cause I wanted to be blind, an'
'cause Ita asked me to. Then I found Smithy. An' I thought it meant somethin'
again. And ya done killed 'er. I'm sure ya had yer reasons. I get that this was
all from up on high." A shrug "Don' care. But at least I know I'm nothin' now. I
don't mean shit. Not unless I can protect people. People that do mean somethin'."
He gives the man an angry, hard glace. "I ain't gonna kill ya, Gunther. Even
though I hear her askin' me, fuckin' BEGGIN' me, I ain't gonna do it. Not now.
'cause I got someone new to protect. Can't fail her, like I did Smithy."
Gunther Kasimir Berg: Gunther wavesa gruff
hand "No.. no no no willy.. At's fuckt up. You ain't know shit bout Ita an me. I
ain't drive er away. She fuckt up. Had some nasty fucks out lookin fer her so
she went inta hidin. If I'da wanted er dead.. You know damn well I coulda done
it by now. All I'da had ta do.. when she called me.." He glares at the man "..
an she did.. I coulda just been all sweetness an asked her ta meet up with me.
Done it quick an easy. But I ain't. Gunther ain't wanna kill nobody. But I got
orders. Gotta do certain shit. Foodchain. I got outta killin Ita cause she was
smart and fuckin ran. Smithy hung around pokin er nose where it aint belong. I
kept warnin er.. tellin er ta butt out, cause I DID fuckin care bout er. But she
ain't listen. Stubborn cunt." He snorts, stepping up to the man "Gunther ain't
askin you fer SHIT, willy. You wanna lash out, at's yer own problem. But I'm
tireda havin ta put down my fuckin friends."
William Halloran: "An' when you asked
Smithy ta kill 'er for ya?" He stares down at Gunther. "Knowin' she could, and
that it was nothin' more then a game?" He's making no move to strike the man, or
anything aggressive. His anger's fading, left with sorrow. "What was that?"
Gunther Kasimir Berg: "Wanted ta see er,
dipshit. I knew damn well Smithy wasn't gonna do somethin else fer me causa some
shit I owed her fer tha last bitta infermation she dug up fer my ugly ass."
William Halloran:
d10: Per+Subt: 4,7,5,
Gunther Kasimir Berg:
d10: man+sub: 2,3,8,
William Halloran: He's quiet for a long
moment, doubt clouding his face...whether doubt in himself or in Gunther's
words, it's hard to say. Finally, he speaks again...softly, words shaking. "I
want you ta tell me right now, Gunther...eye to eye, man to man, that ya don't
wanna kill Ita. And dammit, ya better fuckin' be tellin' my ass the truth."
Gunther Kasimir Berg: He locks hard eyes on
the man with a sturdy glare. "I ain't wanna fuckin kill Ita. Alright. Ain't want
to, ain't goin to. Even if she came up behind me and slapped ta backa my ugly
bald, head I ain't gonna do shit to er."
William Halloran:
d10: Per+Subt (WP): 9,2,1,
William Halloran: He nods, slowly, a
low, deep sigh coming out. "Good." He raises his hand, as if he wants to hit the
man...but his energy drops out with his conviction, and it sags, shoulders
slumping. "Go on, Gunther," he says, eyes finding the ground as he stuffs his
hands into his pockets. "Get outa here. Whatever ya think I'm supposed ta be
worryin' about...I don't care. My life ain't nothin'. Don' mean shit. I ain't
gonna say nothin'...I ain't gonna do nothin'. When I die, maybe I can ask
forgiveness for that then." He turns to leave.
Gunther Kasimir Berg: Gunther nods and leans
back up against the bricks. "Now yer learnin. At's what it's all about, man.
Call me sometime. I'll buy ya a fuckin beer."
William Halloran: And to that, he just
laughs. A hollow, bitter, empty laugh, one of the ugliest sounds to ever escape
the man's throat, as he makes his way down the street. There's another liquor
store in the other direction. It'll just take him longer.
Gunther Kasimir Berg: Gunther pulls a tiny cigar from his pocket with a wicked smirk. Hmm.. laughing.. a good sign? Ehh.. probably not. He slips the cigar between rough lips and lights the thing. Oh well.. get to that as it comes. There's always the dolphin. I'll give em some time
William Halloran: And the heavy footfalls of the man fade away, a trail of smoke following him. ((Thanks for the scene. *G*))