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Post by Richard 'No Name' Taggart on Sept 26, 2012 0:07:18 GMT -5
Sundown. Time to play.
Taggart's spurred boots clicked off the pavement, echoing throughout the night. Fog loomed around the park, the essence of death hung in the air. About fifteen feet in front of the jacketed male vampire was a whimpering man, a drug addict, whom tried to mug him. His amateur attempt met failure, Taggart had gouged the mans wrist open, letting the man crawl down the eerie walkway, slowly drifting into the eternal slumber.
The long, ink black shadow now darkened the mans face, shrouding his figure from view. Whimpering like a dog the man extended a hand up, sniveling as he did and began to moan and beg to Taggart. And that is exactly what he wanted. Time to punch his ticket.
Taggart gave a sarcastic grin, slowly crouching over the man, Ruger Redhawk .44 in his left hand and rubbed the barrel along the mans cheek. The begging continued, the mans cries were music to Taggarts ears. It had been a few days since he'd killed and there was an obnoxious pit in his stomach that had to be filled.
Keeping the barrel of his gun pressed firmly against the sweat soaked cheek, Taggart reached his right hand up to slide his black shades down the bridge of his nose, just enough so his eyes were visible to the man. His eyes black eyes night, lips pulled into a grin and a faint chuckle slipping off his tongue. "Howdy."
It was now time to quit playing with his food. Taggarts fingers ran down the mans cheek, sliding down to his left wrist, making small rings on the mans gushing wound. "Shhh....this ain't gonna hurt none." Taggart pressed the barrel of his weapon to the mans lips and brought his free hand to his own, sucking each one clean with a smacking sound after each one. "Finger lickin' good." Sometimes it was just to fun. But now for the real deal...
Click...click...click...
Taggart's boots clicked against the pavement, the moonlight illuminating his way. He had now finished his meal, discarding of the body and was walking down the dreary walkway, revolver in hand, blood flowing from his lips and down his chin. He looked like he'd just walked out of a Grindhouse flick.
The spurs of his boots let out a satisfying click with each step, Taggart continued to wipe the blood from his chin and suck it off his fingers. His kill was successful, but the night was still young and his fun was far from over. Things were about to get really interesting really fast. And Taggart was about to make a new friend...
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Post by Alejandro Cepero on Sept 26, 2012 14:17:04 GMT -5
Alejandro hopped on his motorcycle parked outside of one of his safe houses, wearing an all black two piece armani suit with a dark red shirt, and turned on the ignition. As the engine roared, he placed his goggles on and his helmet on his head, and rolled off into the night. The sun had just set over the horizon, and night was coming on quickly. It was dark enough for him to be outside without any major problems, and the sooner he got to where he needed to be the more likely he could prevent an attack. Hopefully he would make it in time.
Driving into the parking lot of the park, he could already tell he was already too late. He could sense the presence of a vampire already skulking around in the park, and could pick up the feint, but still noticeable, stench of blood from a fresh kill. Taking off his helmet and goggles, but leaving his riding gloves on, he pulled out his sword belt and tied it to his waist, ensured his pistol was within reach, and walked into the park. It did not take him long to find the source.
Seeing the ragged vampire down the trail, he stopped and placed his hand on his sword hilt. "You! Vampire! Stop." He declared in his thick spanish accent. "Turn and face justice for your crime like a man."
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Post by Richard 'No Name' Taggart on Sept 27, 2012 2:11:43 GMT -5
At first Taggart couldn't believe what he heard. After stopping dead in his tracks, he spun around and pulled his shades down to get a better look at the newcomer. It was very hard for him to believe that this man had come all the way here for him, especially over some deadbeat who had tried to kill him. It made Taggart chuckle, softly before it grew into a loud, uncontrollable laugh as he walked towards the man, wiping blood off his chin.
"Well I'll be God dammed. Wyatt Fuckin' Earp." The words came out between his demonic laughing, calming himself down and walked around the man, getting a good look at him. The finely dressed man was certainly a stupid ass motherfucker for coming here.
"So, what is your plan? Kill me?" Another loud chuckle left his lips as he spoke, just the idea of him trying was hilarious to him. "Tell you what, cowboy. You run on back to the O.K. Corral and maybe I won't separate your head from your shoulders."
Taggart had now moved to the opposite side of him, leaning against an anorexic looking tree and grinned at the man in a sarcastic manner. "So what'll it be, partner?"
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Post by Alejandro Cepero on Sept 30, 2012 0:03:42 GMT -5
One thing Alejandro despised about many of his brethren was their laughter. It was that twisted, wicked laugh many had come to adopt after years of complete moral license. The laugh of a man who's soul has turned black. A laughter he himself had once had, and one he may very well still have, but he solved that by never laughing.
Becoming a vampire did not make one inherently evil. That is something many people do not realize, nor many vampires themselves understand. All it does it makes one capacity for evil much greater. The curse amplifies the bad, while trying its damnedest to subdue the good. Not everyone succumbed to it, but when one does... It becomes incredibly difficult to crawl out of. Alejandro was one of the latter kind, who overcame what had become his nature.
Alejandro's eyes narrowed when the vampire tried to mock him. Who the fuck was Wyatt Earp? Whatever, wasn't important. The mockery had no effect, as he simply continued to stare at the mad vampire in front of him, watching him carefully as he moved towards the tree. From what he could tell, the man was most likely armed, but probably just with regular a knife or pistol with regular ammunition. Not much of a threat, but would still undoubtedly hurt like hell. Best to avoid all that no?
Deciding this scum was not worth words, he quickly drew his silenced pistol with his left hand and fired 2 rounds of UV bullets into the man, then drew his blade with his right hand as he walked towards the man, the silver and steel shining in the moonlight. Slowly, in his native tongue, he began to mutter a small prayer of absolution, as was had become his custom in the years he had hunted his old unit.
"<All mighty God, Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of thy son has reconciled the world to thyself, and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins, I pray you absolve this man of his, and in acting as thy emissary, may mine own mark of Cain may yet be purged.>"
He then moved to strike the man down as he raised his blade across his chest to strike at the man's head.
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Post by Richard 'No Name' Taggart on Sept 30, 2012 22:19:58 GMT -5
At first, Taggart wasn't sure how to react. When the shots connected with his flesh, it stung. Stumbling back a few steps he leaned forward, holding onto his knees and gagged, faint chuckles coming out between the gushing blood that flowed out his frozen lip. "Ah...haha....oh, wow. What a rush." His eyes peered up at the man, moving a hand to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and wiped the blood from his mouth, smearing abit on his cheek and sidestepped as the man swung his blade,almost losing his balance but caught himself at the last second, chuckling as he watched. "Oh...you're good."
Taggart held a hand beneath his mouth and began to cough violently, blood sputtering from his mouth like an old spicket. His hand was now completely soaked in his own blood, using his other hand to sift through the pieces of flesh in his hand and pulled out the bullet he had up-chucked, chuckling and extended it to the man. "For you." Taggart found this humorous, letting out a rather disgusting burp/laugh combo, sending another spatter of blood onto the ground before him.
Now licking the blood from his palms, Taggart moved back a few steps, drawing his own firearm and began to gesture with it to the roadside bus stop on the other side of the park. "Fifty bucks says I can knock the hat off that ol' fellar there." Before he even let his opponent react he raised his weapon, took aim and squeezed the trigger. The shot whizzed through the air and blew through the glass backing of the bus stop like it was paper, knocking the hat from it's perch atop the elder's head, but leaving him un-harmed. Taggart was pleased with his victory, twirling his revolver and waved it around, doing a small tap dance on the sidewalk. "Woo! Bulls-eye! That's fifty big ones, partner."
Emptying the cartridges from his weapon he slotted in it his belt, now un-loaded and held his hands out before him, palms open with a sadistic smile plastered to his face. This man still hadn't failed to amuse him with his 'lawman' act and fancy getup. He was an entertaining guy. He was Taggart's kinda guy. And he could prove to be a useful ally, if he'd just indulge him. "So, you gonna kill an un-armed prisoner? Huh? Tell you what, I like you. How's 'bout I buy you a drink? C'mon, my treat. Just toss down your pop gun and sheath the saber and we'll stroll on down and get the best watered down shit this town has to offer? C'mon, waddya say?"
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Post by Alejandro Cepero on Oct 7, 2012 23:16:06 GMT -5
This man was playing games with him. This vampire, who sounded as though his highest educational level was perhaps that of a middle schooler's... Was attempting to toy with him. Little did the man realize was that Alejandro was not one to play games. The more this man spoke, the more he did, the angrier Alejandro would get. And nobody would like it if Alejandro got angry.
As the man drew his pistol, Alejandro growled and rushed to move towards him, but the man fired before he could do anything about it. He looked, his eyes returning to their grey state in concern for the old man, and when he saw the man had simply had his hat shot off, he growled and tightened his grip, his eyes slowly growing red again.
Oh, what, this fool was trying to appeal to his sense of honor? After the man had clearly proved dangerous? You know what... No, no he promised the hunters he would stop outright killing his fellows. No, he had to bring this man into Vaughn. He growled, sheathing his blade.
"Had I had met you a mere five years ago you would have been dead before you even had the opportunity to draw your revolver barbaro... But now is a different story. Hands where I can see them. You so much as move and I'll fire another UV round into your skull and watch you burn from the inside out."
He then grabbed his handcuffs and moved towards the man, still maintaining a safe distance, moving behind him to properly bind him.
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Post by Richard 'No Name' Taggart on Nov 2, 2012 1:38:30 GMT -5
Taggart stared in bewilderment at the man before him, and slowly began to chuckle. This man spoke like he just walked out of the 1800's. Now he held a pair of handcuffs and threatened to put a round in his head. How amusing. Little did the man know, Taggart was excellent at picking locks. This gave Taggart an idea that made him grin, reaching up to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose and extended his hands in defeat. "Alright, cowboy. You win. Cuff me up, baby."
Taggart had waited until the man was close and leaned in with a toothy grin. "You sure you don't want that beer?" Taggart watched as he finished cuffing him, the grin fading from his face. "Take that as a no."
Taggart eyed the mans means of transportation, a motorcycle and yawned, loudly. "You expect to get me to the clink on that there crotch rocket? I'd like to see that." As he spoke, Taggart produced the keys to the SUV he stole, pressing the clicker to unlock the doors and extended them, awkwardly to the man. "Y'can take my ride if you so choose, partner. Just fill the meter when yer done."
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Post by Alejandro Cepero on Dec 6, 2012 17:44:37 GMT -5
It would be so much easier if he were to simply kill this man. Nothing was really stopping him. Only a bizarre sense of honor he had momentarily adopted in line with what the hunters wanted to do. Well, with what Vaughn wanted to do. And that was to give these vampires a second chance. But then Alejandro thought for a moment. This man... He wasn't a new vampire, at least Alejandro didn't think so. The ease in which the man had killed, the ease in which the man had nearly caused the death of another, those were traits indicative of a man who had no regard for human life. And while yes, there were humans that had that trait, it was much more common amongst vampires who had been that way for at least a decade. They had fully embraced they were no longer human, and often acted like animals.
Well, then perhaps they should die as one.
Kicking the revolver that was on the ground out of the way, then placing the handcuffs on his hands, Alejandro ordered the man to stand up as he took the car keys. He then chucked the keys in the opposite direction, and pointed his pistol at the vampire once more.
"I've had a change of heart. Since you willingly surrendered, we'll make this sporting then. You have 5 seconds. Start running." Alejandro did not plan on letting this man live anymore, but he did still cling to the old honor his fathers had.
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