It seems Vint is scaring a lot of people... ._.
Rhaevnn Xeno Member
Caster of Shadows
- Last Seen: 6 yrs ago
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 253 (0.06 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Rhaevnn Xeno 11 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
As the new threat looked around the barrier between himself and Vint, the pimp's fist knotted into a fist and it took every once of restraint to release the hand into a relaxed position. "Good t'heer." Vint nodded, giving the newly discovered man before him the up-down look, leaning back a step or two, as if to get a better look. "..." The redneck's voice was lazy, drawn out in real Southern fashion, but his eyes had a sharp look to them. "...Y'know, mah mamma ahlways seid, it's im-poh-lite t'ask a strangah's name befo' giv'n yo own." An eyebrow lifted up under his hat as his lean body pressed up against the wall in a relaxed manner, arms slowly crossing and awaiting good manners to kick in. "Ah reckon y'wouldn't wanna be im-poh-lite 'round these parts..." The smile on his face stretched into a thin line, a cunning smirk pulling at the edges of his lips, eyes hardening...
2sp00ky4me :C
Anyway, post is up! Though this newfound "friend" is starting to worry me. ;_;
Anyway, post is up! Though this newfound "friend" is starting to worry me. ;_;
Vint's initial glance revealed a door opened to the right, just a couple rooms down from his. "Shiet." The pimp murmured quietly, immediately tucking his head back in. If this was a game, a billion dollars was on the line, he wasn't going to be the only one going after the single prize. Moving through the menu, he looked at the map that he had displayed on the PDA. Eyeballing it quickly, Vint has estimated this place was decent sized building. "Gotta be a'hell ofa place than." Looking up, his hatted head poked out the door again, eyes shifting about, gathering his immediate surroundings. What lay outside, matched perfectly with the map on his little PDA - well, close enough anyway. "So this here contraption is uh-dahted. Gewd." Almost nonchalantly, he began to walk down the hall to his right, his heavy boots clomping down the tiled surface. Meanwhile, crafty fingers shifted his PDA's tabs once more, returning the to the "Rules" section. If anything, any time there had been a contest back home at the annual state fair, there had always been bullshit rules. "Ain't gonna happan this taim." The pimp muttered as his eyes cast over the rules, consciously looking up every few seconds from the screen to the world around him - hunting gators had drilled this into him. That, or living on the streets of Miami. Either way, he wasn't going to be caught off guard.
Reading was never his strong suite, but Vint managed. For the first couple rules, he understood. Fuck with the collar, besides playing it by their rules, it would end in death. 'Goddurn communists.'
"..."
Suddenly, movement from the opened door caused Vint to look up sharply. Someone was there and Vint reacted:
If there was an outward swinging door (and it was blocking the view of the unknown person emerging from the room), Vint would have only barely heard movement. But, being an experience gator hunter (or a hunter in general), Vint had learned to hear before seeing. This was no exception. Pressing himself quickly against the only cover that was available, the redneck found himself directly behind the door that belonged to the room. Assuming that the person behind that door wasn't stupid, Vint knew that he had been seen, or at least heard, so he did only thing anybody would do in that situation: he called out.
"Now, see here fraind. Ah don't want no trouble, y'hear? You jist go back in to yo' room and close tha dour, and we kin jist move ahlong like nuthin' happind."
However, if there was no such luck for Vint, and full vision was cast for both this stranger and Vint, the redneck was only left with one other option: "How'dchu do, fraind?" A gloved hand tipped the corner of his baseball cap, a smile equivalent to a charming snake stretching across his face, "Fain day to go gallivantin' daown a creepeh hall-way, eh?" A friendly chuckle slipped from his lips...
Reading was never his strong suite, but Vint managed. For the first couple rules, he understood. Fuck with the collar, besides playing it by their rules, it would end in death. 'Goddurn communists.'
"..."
Suddenly, movement from the opened door caused Vint to look up sharply. Someone was there and Vint reacted:
If there was an outward swinging door (and it was blocking the view of the unknown person emerging from the room), Vint would have only barely heard movement. But, being an experience gator hunter (or a hunter in general), Vint had learned to hear before seeing. This was no exception. Pressing himself quickly against the only cover that was available, the redneck found himself directly behind the door that belonged to the room. Assuming that the person behind that door wasn't stupid, Vint knew that he had been seen, or at least heard, so he did only thing anybody would do in that situation: he called out.
"Now, see here fraind. Ah don't want no trouble, y'hear? You jist go back in to yo' room and close tha dour, and we kin jist move ahlong like nuthin' happind."
However, if there was no such luck for Vint, and full vision was cast for both this stranger and Vint, the redneck was only left with one other option: "How'dchu do, fraind?" A gloved hand tipped the corner of his baseball cap, a smile equivalent to a charming snake stretching across his face, "Fain day to go gallivantin' daown a creepeh hall-way, eh?" A friendly chuckle slipped from his lips...
._. Sooo should I take my post down?
EDIT:
Took it down - waiting for Dawn ^^;
EDIT:
Took it down - waiting for Dawn ^^;
(And this is what happens when I start to make corrections before the next GM ic post happens... Sigh ;_;)
@Yoshua171, @Mercinus3 - does anyone want to go first in particular?
And we're off! Also, this is one of my first characters that I'm using a written accent - lemme know if anything is a bit... unclear (as Vint might not be the easiest to understand sometimes xD)
It's always weird, waking from anything remotely close to deep sleep.
You get the odd sensation of emerging from something not of this world, but from something else. As if you've been somewhere far, far away and only now have you decided unknowingly return to something that is familiar, tangible. The sharp intake of breath, whether it be panicked or as smooth as glass, is always the first thing you seem to notice, followed by whatever thought that decides to rapidly invade your mind.
This, however, is not what was going through Vint's head when he jolted awake on the floor. It wasn't in a panicked fashion, but rather as if shoved by life, as if to say "Hurry up, and wake up." For a few moments, the redneck would lay on his back, staring at a blank ceiling, green eyes slowly rolling over the blotted (and cracking?) surface. Then, his voice brought forth his first thought:
"Whar the heeel ahm ah?"
He wasn't home, that's for sure, or any other place he recognized. This, of course, wasn't entirely out of the ordinary. He didn't have a hangover, so he wasn't drinking last night. His bottom lip tightened as his brow furrowed. It was morning, wasn't it? The pimp looked down to casually glance at his watch, his eyes still bleary from rousing from his sleep. It was then that his brow furrowed even deeper as he realized his beat up, leather wristed watch was not on his person. "Wut the heel?" Vint would mutter darkly, searching his pockets. His phone was there, so that was good, but no wallet; no pocket knife either. Groaning upward in a fashion that can only be issued when one's morning is already not going as expected, he began to clear his head and gather the situation around him.
The room had no furniture, no decorations, nothing - a blank canvas. It was fairly small, and not at all familiar, still. "Wut the fuck is goin' on 'roun 'ere?" Vint said, his hands groping around the outsides of his pockets. His money and his cigarettes were priority, one because it mattered most, and the other for his morning fix. Neither would be there, and anger began to froth over in his morning frustration. "Common' now! Yew got tew be kidd'n me!" The only explanation: he was mugged. And that wouldn't do.
"Who the hell takes a man's wahlet an' nawt 'is cell?" Vint yelled angrily, whipping out to see what time it was... only to discover even that wasn't his. Instead, it had three buttons, a message scrolling out instructions. "Ri-lease condishons..?" The redneck's fingers began to play with the gadget in his hand, his mind turning over the phone's demands. He wasn't handcuffed, tied, chained...
"AWH HELL NAW!" Vint's voice was booming now, a strong hand yanking away at his new found collar, "I AIN'T NAWONE'S BITCH!" At this point, he had risen to his feet, yanking away at the collar like a mad dog, and practically bouncing off the walls, pacing the room like a caged animal.
Eventually, his exertions would settle. Leaning up against a wall, his breath pushed from his lungs heavily, eyes glaring back at the phone. "Fuck'n hate yoo. Y'HEAR?! I - FUCKIN' - HATE - YOO!" Whirling around, a fist connected with the wall behind him... Only it made a different sound than a wall. Vint, who had closed his eyes in his rage, slowly opened them and found his fist had hit a door - an exit. "Whal' now - lookie here..." A twisted chuckle issued from his throat as he made to open the door, if possible.
If successful, whether it be a door knob or panel of some kind, Vint would peek his head out, casually looking to the left first, and then the right, as his thumb moved the tabs of he quickly discovered as a "PDA" and not a phone...
However, if the door was not cooperating, Vint's face would twist into a rageful fit, "GAWDDAWM YOO TO HEEL!" He would roar at the door, giving it a solid kick with his boot before angrily muttering into the screen before him, seeing if anything could open his first obstacle.
You get the odd sensation of emerging from something not of this world, but from something else. As if you've been somewhere far, far away and only now have you decided unknowingly return to something that is familiar, tangible. The sharp intake of breath, whether it be panicked or as smooth as glass, is always the first thing you seem to notice, followed by whatever thought that decides to rapidly invade your mind.
This, however, is not what was going through Vint's head when he jolted awake on the floor. It wasn't in a panicked fashion, but rather as if shoved by life, as if to say "Hurry up, and wake up." For a few moments, the redneck would lay on his back, staring at a blank ceiling, green eyes slowly rolling over the blotted (and cracking?) surface. Then, his voice brought forth his first thought:
"Whar the heeel ahm ah?"
He wasn't home, that's for sure, or any other place he recognized. This, of course, wasn't entirely out of the ordinary. He didn't have a hangover, so he wasn't drinking last night. His bottom lip tightened as his brow furrowed. It was morning, wasn't it? The pimp looked down to casually glance at his watch, his eyes still bleary from rousing from his sleep. It was then that his brow furrowed even deeper as he realized his beat up, leather wristed watch was not on his person. "Wut the heel?" Vint would mutter darkly, searching his pockets. His phone was there, so that was good, but no wallet; no pocket knife either. Groaning upward in a fashion that can only be issued when one's morning is already not going as expected, he began to clear his head and gather the situation around him.
The room had no furniture, no decorations, nothing - a blank canvas. It was fairly small, and not at all familiar, still. "Wut the fuck is goin' on 'roun 'ere?" Vint said, his hands groping around the outsides of his pockets. His money and his cigarettes were priority, one because it mattered most, and the other for his morning fix. Neither would be there, and anger began to froth over in his morning frustration. "Common' now! Yew got tew be kidd'n me!" The only explanation: he was mugged. And that wouldn't do.
"Who the hell takes a man's wahlet an' nawt 'is cell?" Vint yelled angrily, whipping out to see what time it was... only to discover even that wasn't his. Instead, it had three buttons, a message scrolling out instructions. "Ri-lease condishons..?" The redneck's fingers began to play with the gadget in his hand, his mind turning over the phone's demands. He wasn't handcuffed, tied, chained...
"AWH HELL NAW!" Vint's voice was booming now, a strong hand yanking away at his new found collar, "I AIN'T NAWONE'S BITCH!" At this point, he had risen to his feet, yanking away at the collar like a mad dog, and practically bouncing off the walls, pacing the room like a caged animal.
Eventually, his exertions would settle. Leaning up against a wall, his breath pushed from his lungs heavily, eyes glaring back at the phone. "Fuck'n hate yoo. Y'HEAR?! I - FUCKIN' - HATE - YOO!" Whirling around, a fist connected with the wall behind him... Only it made a different sound than a wall. Vint, who had closed his eyes in his rage, slowly opened them and found his fist had hit a door - an exit. "Whal' now - lookie here..." A twisted chuckle issued from his throat as he made to open the door, if possible.
If successful, whether it be a door knob or panel of some kind, Vint would peek his head out, casually looking to the left first, and then the right, as his thumb moved the tabs of he quickly discovered as a "PDA" and not a phone...
However, if the door was not cooperating, Vint's face would twist into a rageful fit, "GAWDDAWM YOO TO HEEL!" He would roar at the door, giving it a solid kick with his boot before angrily muttering into the screen before him, seeing if anything could open his first obstacle.
Okie doke - so questions!
1) Will our characters know the cash prize involved?
2) Is the PDA somewhat designed like a tablet or...? (It sounds like a stupid question, but better safe than sorry ^^;) And if so, I assume that there will be little apps/tabs/whatever to tap to pull up the map, PDA designation, "mission," etc.?
3) How big are these PDAs? Ipad size? Smart phone size?
4) Will these PDAs announce to everyone that an objective has been met? (Say my character had to kill x amount of people. Upon killing someone, will it announce: "Three to go!" or will it be much more subtle than that, say through a head implant, headphones, text only?)
I have a few more, but I'll start there. ^^;
1) Will our characters know the cash prize involved?
2) Is the PDA somewhat designed like a tablet or...? (It sounds like a stupid question, but better safe than sorry ^^;) And if so, I assume that there will be little apps/tabs/whatever to tap to pull up the map, PDA designation, "mission," etc.?
3) How big are these PDAs? Ipad size? Smart phone size?
4) Will these PDAs announce to everyone that an objective has been met? (Say my character had to kill x amount of people. Upon killing someone, will it announce: "Three to go!" or will it be much more subtle than that, say through a head implant, headphones, text only?)
I have a few more, but I'll start there. ^^;
© 2007-2024