Zetty/Alfred
Chuunin
Zetsu/Kakuzu
The coolest four year old you'll ever know.
Posts: 289
|
Post by Zetty/Alfred on Dec 12, 2007 23:07:13 GMT -5
Alfred nodded a simple goodbye to both men before carefully folding the paper. He slipped it into the pocket of his lab coat, putting the rest of the milky-gray liquid into a vial. After doing such, he carefully put the securely corked vial into his pocket. Pushing his bangs out of his eyes in silence, he promptly exited the lab, closing the door behind him. He touched a few numbers on a key pad next to the door, a satisfying locking noise reaching his ears. In earlier centuries, locks were needed to close doors without allowing others to get into them. Now you simply put your hand on a scanner. If your hand matched the print of the owner of the lab, you were let in when it was locked. If not, you were denied entry and security was sent to meet you.
Quite simple, actually. The man who designed the thing had once worked in Black Lamb, matter ‘o fact. It was selfish to wish that something you made would be used in such a great way. However, Alfred lived to please. Most of his work was used in modern day situations, and some of it, like the dangerous liquid he carried, as put off to the side. It would be used in battle, if ever needed. Ah, and there was the fact of assassination missions. Things like this could sell for millions on the black market. But, shh, you didn’t hear that from Alfred.
Alfred quietly slipped into an elevator, leaning against the metallic railing after extending a hand and hitting a button. The button, in which had the number two on it, lit up upon contact. The cold metal doors closed, Alfred closing his eyes for a moment as he waiting impatiently for the elevator to hurry up. A sickening ‘ding’ sounded as the elevator stopped. He stepped out onto the carpeted flooring. This story of the underground establishment was completely different than that of the bottom floor. No, they had carpet instead of tile. They had wallpaper instead of plain old metal walls. The rooms were few but spacious. This is where all of the guests and overall important people would stay. Scientists were strictly restricted to the bottom floor unless a meeting was in order. In order to get a meeting, you had to schedual hours or perhaps a day in advance.
However, this was Alfred Givenfield. He didn’t bother with things so trivial as appointments and set times. No, he’d barge in whenever he pleased. He didn’t take crap from anyone, and if someone attempted to give him trouble, he always had his pistol hidden away on his belt. Alfred walked in silence, shoes making no sound on the soft carpet. Even if it was just by a bit, the shoes made Alfred a tad taller. A whole half inch; setting him at four feet, nine and a half inches. He, showing no facial expression pried open a door.
The superior behind the desk glanced at the intruder, eyebrow raised over his hazel eyes. The man rolled his eyes as he noticed who it was. “Come in, Alfred. And take your damn shoes off; I don’t want you dirtying my office up.” The man arose to greet the young prodigy, a smirk on his face. Alfred held back a repulsed look from crossing his face, shrinking back a little. This man, the boss, stood at six foot, nine inches. Two feet taller than poor little Alfred. The sad thing was the fact that they were only about five years apart. Alfred, hiding his sheer intimidation slipped off his shoes and approached the man, fake confidence in his stride.
“Take off your sunglasses as well. You know I don’t like those things.” Alfred reluctantly reached up to his face and removed the sunglasses with care, slipping them into his pocket. “Take a seat, Alfred. Tell me why you have decided to intrude on me this evening.” The boss had a very deep, warm voice, much unlike the cold sarcastic voice of the Givenfield. “I have no need to sit down. I’ve merely come to tell you that I’ve finished the project you’ve requested of me. Here,” Alfred paused for a minute, taking out the paper and unfolding it. He put it on the hardwood desk of the superior before him, the man overlooking it immediately. “Is the information on the substance itself. It also includes how to produce it, and how to counter attack it. This,” He paused once more, hand finding its way to the vial. He carefully put the vial on top of the paper. “Is the liquid.”
Alfred awaited judgement, stepping back a bit as the older examined the work. “It took you two weeks to figure this out? That’s pathetic, Alfred. Unfortunately, the dead specimens will not be in for a day or so. Until then, I’m fresh out of things for you to work on. But when those specimens do come in, you will find the substance out within a few hours. Do you hear me, Givenfield? You’re pathetic. Now get the hell out of my office.” The man growled, once soft eyes narrowed as he watched the younger turn. Alfred slipped his shoes back on and exited the office. He had quieted, his walk without confidence. He neglected to put his sunglasses back on his face, eyes half-lidded and staring at the carpet. His hands hung loosely at his sides, and the bags under his eyes added to the look quiet well.
That word- pathetic. Alfred hated that word so very much. He quietly allowed himself to become lost in thought as he entered the elevator and started for the first floor. Another scientist was in the elevator, and his eyes widened as he saw Alfred enter the elevator. He shrunk back, trying to avoid the Givenfield at all costs. Alfred didn’t even notice the other, too consumed in his own void to pay any attention. In fact, the world around him was blurred and sounds were disgruntled. He soon came to realize why exactly the world was so blurry as he felt the liquid gathering in his eyes.
Wow, it sure had been a long time since he had last cried. Five years? More? He didn’t know any more. In silence he, figuring he was alone, wiped his eyes before leaning against the railing behind him. A ‘ding’ sounded once again, and he exited the elevator. The other scientist had been left in confusion. Had Alfred Givenfield, of all people, just started crying in front of him? His mind must be playing tricks on him.
Alfred quietly started through the blurry metallic halls, headed for a hallway that extended from this one. There he’d find his room. He was weak; he needed sleep. Plus, couldn’t let others see him in tears like this, could he? His steps became stumbles, and his stumbles jerky confused steps. One minute he had stepped to the left, the next he found himself on the floor. Fortunately, he had landed on his side, and not on his sensitive back. “I’ll just… sleep here.” He decided in a murmur, closing his eyes and curling up on the floor.
Somehow, Alfred Givenfield looked pathetically boy-ish as he lay passed out in front of his own room.
OoC:: -skips off to go to sleep-
|
|
|
Post by .:Uchiha Itachi:. on Dec 13, 2007 20:52:30 GMT -5
[I’mma skip to him entering his lab, as I’m not in to mood to type another hallway section. Lol.]
His hand opened, palm flattening on the dull green scanner as he reached the entrance to his lab. His ears picked up the barely audible sounds of various liquids dripping onto the floor. Of class shattering as something walked over it. And a low, rumble of a growl. Already he was anticipating what awaited him inside; and already, he wasn’t excited. At all.
There was the distinct hum as the scanner ran over the palm of his hand, searching every crease, ever fold of his skin to make sure he wasn’t some intruder. And then, the barely audible satisfactory click as the many locks concealed within the heavy metal door undid themselves, allowing Damien passage. And he proceeded into his lab…
But his brief moment of satisfaction soon faded as he laid eyes on his lab. There was glass, and blood strewn everywhere. Tables were overturned, and there were corpses littering the once clean, tile floors. Several of them were canines, and the others, were his former lab assistants. And, standing in the back of the lab, head down and knowing on the body of a fallen canine, was the first dog he had injected. So at least one of them survived? Interesting… he thought, taking a step in so that he could close the doors behind him. Damien sighed. This was going to take quite some time to clean up….
[Another not so great post. ;_;]
|
|
|
Post by Wolfdog on Dec 13, 2007 21:20:06 GMT -5
The O'Fallon shuffled through some papers, coming across one that caught his attention. Burnt slightly around the edges, he read the title. 'Militärpolizei Getarnter Bericht.' [Military Police Undercover Report. ] He paused. Military police? What did he have to do with that? Setting the other papers down, he held the report tightly, and sat down on an unscorched chair. His different colored orbs' gaze remained locked onto the text, reading it cautiously. 'Current status of situation'. Current status? He paused. Was he supposed to fill it out? Raising his gaze, he searched for a pen, snatching one off the counter, blowing the ash off of it. With a single click, he began to write down what he did at Black Lamb, and the explosive mixture he had just come up with. Blake finished filling out the questions, still a bit confused on why the paper had been there in the first place. With hesitation, he signed his name: Blake O'Fallon, Black Lamb Scientist.
Searching for an envelope, he found a slightly singed one, but folded his letter and placed it in there; sealing it. He wrote down the address, then tossed the pen, stepping out the door, clenching the letter in his hand. Hearing it close behind him, Blake began down the hall, when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Taking one step back, he peered down a hallways, seeing someone laying on the floor. 'Alfred?' He thought, slowly edging towards the sleeping man. "Alfred?" He said, stopping to stand next to Alfred. Blake glanced back behind him, seeing the door labeled 'Alfred Givenfield'. Turning back to Alfred, he rolled his eyes. "Sie könnten auch nicht es ein noch paar Füße machen?" [You couldn't even make it a few more feet?] He mumbled. "Für das Willen von Himmel wacht Alfred auf!" [For heaven's sake, wake up Alfred!] Blake said, his voice almost a shout.
|
|
Zetty/Alfred
Chuunin
Zetsu/Kakuzu
The coolest four year old you'll ever know.
Posts: 289
|
Post by Zetty/Alfred on Dec 13, 2007 21:53:58 GMT -5
Alfred twitched a little in his sleep, but threw his arms over his head on impulse, trying to block out the shout of Blake. He, completely out of it, opened one eye and peered at O’Fallon. “Dun’ wanna’. Trying to sleep. Why’re you in my room?” He grumbled before he slowly closed his eyes once more. If there was ever any time to get blackmail material from Alfred, it was when he was asleep. Alfred had a very wretched habit of mumbling nonsense when he was asleep and/or half-awake. Of course, no one ever told him this. Why would they tell Alfred Givenfield of his mumbling in his sleep?
Exactly.
His face was buried in the excess of his lab coat, now lying flat out on his stomach. To be completely honest, he looked like a five year old. Combining his small stature with his now slightly messed up hair, he looked like a very young thing indeed. The only thing that could give away his age would have to be perhaps the bags under his eyes. Yet, any child could have bags under their eyes, correct?
When he had spoken, his voice wasn’t cold or sarcastic. No, he sounded like a little child.
It was easy to assume a four year old had passed out in the hallways of Black Lamb, to put it simply.
Another scientist, not paying attention to anything but the clipboard in front of his face, walked through the hallways. He didn’t notice Blake, nor the sleeping figure sprawled out on the ground. As he walked, mumbling things to himself, he was taken by surprise as he suddenly lost his footing. Within a moment’s notice, he was on the floor, having tripped over Alfred’s diminutive figure.
Alfred’s eyes shot open, a fire burning within them. “Can you not have the damn decency to not trip over me? By God!” He growled in rage, making the other shrink back and eventually hurry away. Alfred watched as the other scurried off, eyes softening once more. He slowly, but surely came to close his eyes and drift off to sleep.
It was amusing, but embarrassing at the same time.
|
|
|
Post by Wolfdog on Dec 14, 2007 6:35:27 GMT -5
((Quick post before school. ))
Blake was frozen at the sight before him. Alfred; sleeping in the halls? That was pure gold. A bit strange, but kind of funny. Twiddling with the letter in his hand, he chuckled as Alfred mumbled. He was amused, and figured this memory would be one that lasted forever.
The sudden sound of someone falling caught him off guard; causing Blake to jump. His frantic gaze fell onto another man, who seemingly had tripped over Alfred. He broke into hysterics, even though it wasn't a normal sight in such a dull place. When he calmed himself down, watching the man scurry off, he turned back to Alfred. "Warum schlafen Sie in der Halle? Ehrlich muss das der schlimmste Ort in der ganzen Welt sein zu schlafen; especialy in einem düsteren Ort wie dies." [Why are you sleeping in the hall? Honestly, that's got to be the worst place in the whole world to sleep; especialy in a drab place like this.] He said, sarcasim in his voice.
|
|
|
Post by .:Uchiha Itachi:. on Dec 15, 2007 9:47:37 GMT -5
He reached to his left, his hand scrambling on a nearby table; which just so happened to be, the only not overturned table left in the entire room. How this one table had managed to stay standing, he had no clue, and at the moment, he didn’t exactly care. All he wanted was to get that stupid tranquilizer gun he had been given upon the start of this little “experiment.” Where the hell had he put the damned thing anyway? Frankly, he wasn’t to sure, so he continued to run his hand over the table, dark orbs never leaving the demonic canine he had created.
His fingers made contact with something thick, and cold, causing him to jump back for a moment. His eyes darted over to see what he had found. Miraculously, it was indeed the gun he had been searching for. Now, all he had to do was figure out how exactly one went about using the thing.
Damien’s eyes constantly flicked between the canine and his hands as he fumbled the gun. The truth was, he wasn’t afraid of normal dogs, but this dog.. Well it wasn’t exactly normal now was it? His pale fingers wrapped about the handle, index finger extending slightly so that it could reach the trigger. It seemed almost as if the movement was coming instinctively to him now, though if one knew him well enough, he had never actually tried to use a gun before. He could hear the canine shift, it’s sharp claws scratching the floor as it moved. So it had finally seen him? Great… he thought, swallowing hard and raising the gun, which seemed to anger the hellish hound, for it snarled and began to charge at him. Just great..
There was the sound of the dart launching itself from the gun as his finger instinctively pulled back on the trigger, as well as the rather loud bang as the gunpowder within was initiated. Time seemed to move in slow motion as the canine’s great legs bent, pushing itself off of the ground, muscles rippling in a fluid like manner. His breath caught within his lungs, and he clamped his eyes shut.
There was a yelp, and time seemed to restore it’s usual pace. He cracked an eye open in time to see the dart strike the hound only a few inches above the chest, and fall to the ground, it’s limbs twitching as the drug took it’s toll. The gun dropped from his hand with a loud clatter, and he shook himself. Now all that was left was to clean the bloody lab before the hound woke up…again.
|
|
Zetty/Alfred
Chuunin
Zetsu/Kakuzu
The coolest four year old you'll ever know.
Posts: 289
|
Post by Zetty/Alfred on Dec 15, 2007 18:01:23 GMT -5
[Bleh. This post will be pretty bad, being I’m tired and have no muse whatsoever. D: I sorree.]
Alfred turned in his sleep, left eye opening to a slit to look at Blake. “Hall? This is my room, idiot. Pfft. I thought you’d have enough brains to know that, but obviously not.” He spoke, eye closing as he pulled the lab coat around himself as if it were a blanket. Even though this behaviour wasn’t normal for Alfred, what could one expect? He had been deprived of sleep for so long; it was amazing his brain even functioned properly. It seemed that was reason enough for him to act out when he was half-awake. Not that he had the slightest clue of what he was doing, as this wasn’t to his own accord.
His mouth was slightly ajar, showing his inhumanly sharp teeth and his pale pink tongue. Alfred certainly wasn’t something one would call human upon inspection. He could live without socializing, he didn’t really need sleep as much as others did, and he had freakishly inhuman teeth and eyes. What was human about him? Besides his looks on the outside[for the most part], not much was very human. His emotions, you might say, made him human. But honestly, just about any living thing had emotions. Plus, his ‘emotions’ were feral at best. He went completely berserk when he was mad, he didn’t act very melancholic when sad, and it was ever so hard to tell when he was happy. Almost like an animal.
Yet, perhaps it was his nature that made him somewhat human. He had fake respect for those whom he worked for, he was manipulative, and he was so very sly. With his inhuman hearing to top it all off, he was quite a work of art, now wasn’t he?
Plus, look at how he slept. He was curled up in a ball, like some sort of… creature.
What was he, anyway?Hollywood - Zeromancer
|
|
|
Post by Wolfdog on Dec 16, 2007 16:37:42 GMT -5
Blake rolled his eyes. How blind was Alfred? 'I know he's not had sleep in a long time, but sleeping in the hall? Dang.' He thought, clenching his hand around the letter, crumbling it. "Alfred, Sie sind in der Halle. Schlafen. Ihr Zimmer ist da drüben, nicht hier. Stehen Sie, dumm auf!" [ Alfred, you're in the hall. Sleeping. Your room is over there, not here. Get up, stupid!] Blake hissed, not meaning to be harsh. His narrowed eyes' gaze landed upon Alfred's face, picking up the strange sight of abnormaly pointed teeth. 'Is he some kind of... Cat?' The O'Fallon pondered, broadening his focal point to the position he was in. Curled up. "Sind Sie eine Art von... Katzenmensch?" [Are you some kind of... cat-human?] He asked, one eyebrow rising. Alfred sure was strange indeed....
((Sorry it's so short. I'm low on muse. xD ))
|
|
Zetty/Alfred
Chuunin
Zetsu/Kakuzu
The coolest four year old you'll ever know.
Posts: 289
|
Post by Zetty/Alfred on Dec 21, 2007 22:55:04 GMT -5
“Are you intent on making sure I get absolutely no sleep, Blake?” He grumbled as he turned away from the other. His words were notable, for he had never called Blake by his first name before. “Even if I happened to be in the hall, in which I’m not, what would it matter?” It really was amusing how he could have semi-intelligent conversation while he was in a trance of a sleep.
“Cat-human? Be logical, Blake. That race came and died centuries ago. No, I wasn’t born this way. You think I’d honestly just experiment for years on end and not attempt to make myself immortal? Ch. Of course, immortality is not so easily achieved. Chances are I’ll end up killing myself before anything works, but hey.” He simply gave a shrug of his shoulders in his sleep. Now, if Alfred was conscious, he wouldn’t have said anything in the first place. His immortality research was his own little secret. Individuals were supposed to only follow orders; they aren’t supposed to have minds or feelings of their own accord.
He, however, didn’t follow that little uniform. You couldn’t expect a fire to keep bottled up, could you? Fire burns through most substances- it’s only a matter of time before it burns out of control. Alfred was, yes, missing some screws. Yet, they were lost on purpose, you see. Alfred was aware of how this life was making his sanity deplete slowly but surely. Some might ask, what is immortality when you are insane? In Alfred’s mind, he could place his sanity back whenever he pleased. He was in control of how sane he was, and he could drop it, then pick it back up and it would be without harm. Yet, perhaps he was just so very insane already that he had been lead to think this.
From illegal testing conducted on his body to extreme insomnia, it was a miracle he hadn’t been thrown to the asylum yet. But, whenever you are in such a demanding job, and you can lead on the pack of wolves so easily, it is easy to get by.
For, you see, Alfred wasn’t so easily… thrown to the wolves. No, he had been there before, and he had slaughtered the wolves.
Now, if you were to take Alfred to a psychiatrist, insane he would be called.
Insanity, or genius?
…..
Insanity.
|
|
|
Post by .:Uchiha Itachi:. on Dec 23, 2007 9:30:24 GMT -5
[Oh my.. I have been sorta neglecting to reply as of late. My bad. This one will just be short. I’mma bring Damien to the others now. Lol]
His hand left the metal surface of the door as he let it close behind him with an all too loud thud. He waited a mere three seconds for the automatic locks to activate themselves, then crammed his hands into his pocket, lifted his chin a little, and began to walk. Cleaning his lab had taken far too much time, he believed. Less time then he had previously calculated, yes, but still far too much time. Subconsciously, the dark haired teen let out a highly audible sigh. Long tail coats swayed as he shifted his feet, and began to walk…
He wasn’t exactly sure where he was going, or how long he intended to walk for that matter, but he just kept moving. Hell, that was all one really could do in this place, keep moving forward and hope you discover something, wasn’t it. But then, audible sound reached his ears. He scrunched his nose, partially out of trying to stop it from itching, and partially out of curiosity. He could have sworn he recognized those voices…
So, shifting his position ever so slightly, he began to move towards the sound. curiosity killed the cat…
[Short post… ._.]
|
|
|
Post by Wolfdog on Dec 24, 2007 14:33:34 GMT -5
Blake snorted softly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Ich werde mich vergewissern, dass Sie erhalten keinen Schlaf bis Sie erkennen dass Sie in der Halle sind; schlafend." [I'll make sure you don't get any sleep until you realize that you're in the hall; sleeping.] He said, smirking; but Alfred's last sentence made him think. “Cat-human? Be logical, Blake. That race came and died centuries ago. No, I wasn’t born this way. You think I’d honestly just experiment for years on end and not attempt to make myself immortal? Ch. Of course, immortality is not so easily achieved. Chances are I’ll end up killing myself before anything works, but hey.” "Unsterblichkeit? Bedeuten Sie, dass Sie geforscht haben, unsterbliche diese ganze Zeit zu werden?" [Immortality? You mean you've been researching to become immortal all this time?] He said, hissing, but Blake was sure to keep his voice down. "Ich hatte dass mich selbst ein paar Jahre zurück versucht. ... Es hat nur mir eine Narbe, und eine Verletzung gegeben, die nie heilen wird. Lassen Sie es Sie nicht überholen, bevor es zu spät ist." [I had tried that myself a few years back.... It only gave me a scar, and a wound that'll never heal. Don't let it overtake you before it's too late.]
[glow=red,2,300]Flashback [/glow]
The room was dark, cold, and damp. Unforgiving. Dungen-like. Prison-like. The corner of the small room had drips falling in a slow rythem; drip... drip.... drip. A small metal table was placed in the middle of the room, and a mutant wolf laid next to one wall that was bars of the prison cell. It's eyes closed, harks twitching, it could hear it's human experimenting.
Blake stood, very cautiously pouring hydrolic acid into a vial, watching it very closely with his eyes. A drop fell, and once in contact with a blue-green-grey mixture, a small puff of smoke rose up, and Blake quickly put the acid back into its place. He picked up a shot container, stuck the needle into place, and dipped it into the vial. Pulling the handle up, the liquid filled the container, and Blake held it up. 'Perfect.' He thought, but an uneasy feeling seeped into him. Turning to the wolf-hybrids, the biggest canine lifted it's head, harks forward. "What are you doing, Master?" The wolf asked, and Blake turned his gaze to him. "Ich denke, dass ich die Unsterblichkeitmischung erhalten habe. .... Aber ich kann zu sicher nicht sein. Es dürfte nicht arbeiten." [I think I've got the immortality mixture..... But I can't be too sure. It might not work.] Blake said, flicking the container with his free index finger. "A-.. Are you going to test it?" The mutant wolf asked. "Ich muss zu, Jericho. Der Chef sagt, dass wenn ich nichts bis heute finde, werden sie mich töten. Aber sie werden Sie frei gehen lassen. Deshalb selbst wenn dieser Stoff mich tötet, werden Sie lebend und frei." [I have to, Jericho. The boss says that if I don't find anything by today, they'll kill me. But they'll let you go free. So even if this stuff kills me, you'll alive and free.] Blake answered, taking the cap off the needle. Jericho stood up, and staggered over to the fate-destined scientist. Blake knelt down, placing a hand on the wolf's head, stroking him behind his ears gently. "If I don't make it alive, just remember that you're the best friend I could ever ask for." Blake said, feeling his eyes begin to sting. Jericho laid his muzzle next to the man's arm, but was engulfed in a tight hug. He tightly bear hugged the mutant wolf before pulling away and standing up. The wolf gazed up at him, begging for the scientist to cease the experiment. Blake held up the shot, knowing the best injection site would be his stomach. He pulled his white shirt up a few inches, then time itself seemed to slow down. His heart beat matched the rythem of the dripping water; drip... drip... drip. Thump... thump... thump. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, and his breath caught in his throat. 'Just do it!' A voice rang out in his head, and he shut his eyes tightly. His hand moved swiftly, and the needle sank into his stomach. Jericho froze; terrified. Pushing the handle down into the container, Blake could feel the liquid enter into him, and intrude in his veins. Gripping the shot, he felt all his energy deplete, and his mind swirled. He became dizzy; stumbling back and collasping. Jericho was immediatly by his side. "Master! Master, are you okay? Can you hear me?" The mutant wolf asked, placing a large paw on the man's arm. He reached over, clenching the shot in his jaws, and jerking it away.
Blake felt frozen; as if his blood had turned into ice. Agony surged through his veins, and his mind was blank. His body was limp, and he slowly opened an eye. He could just barely make out the form of Jericho, and saddness overwhelmed him. He'd never be able to see his friend again.
"Master! Can you hear me?!" Jericho barked, tears streaming down his face. He laid his head on his friend's chest, hoping to see some sort of light appear in the man's eyes. Suddenly, the sound of a squeaky metal door opening and chains filled the mutant wolf's ears, resulting in him turning them back. "Wake up, Master. Please." Jericho pleaded, gently nudging Blake's chin with his cold, wet nose. his body felt ice cold.
The jingle of keys behind the mutant wolf was horrid. 'They're going to take him away...' Jericho thought, closing his eyes tightly. He didn't bother to move; they'd have to pry him off his friend. The strangers entered the cell, and threw a chain lasso around the mutant wolf's neck, causing Jericho to whip around, fangs and claws gashing the men. Fur bristling and teary eyes, Jericho stood in front of his friend while the strangers pulled the chain, choking him. Claws digging into the cement, the mutant wolf turned around, placing all four paws firmly into the ground. He reached out with his snout, and gave a final 'good-bye' lick on Blake's hand before the strangers created a powerful yank, pulling Jericho towards them. "Let 'em go. He's not gonna make it." The smallest stranger said, then the biggest one picked Jericho up, and began carrying him up the stairs. "Throw the dog outside. We don't have any use of 'im." Jericho felt tears falling from his eyes as he was carried away from his best friend; knowing it would be the last time he saw Blake O'Fallon.
[glow=red,2,300]End Flashback [/glow]
Blake gazed down at Alfred, shoving the memories out of his mind. That was then; this was now. "Es gibt stille Katzen und es gibt stille Menschen. Ich denke nicht, dass Menschen und Katzen aus vor Jahrhunderten gestorben sind." [There's still cats and there's still humans. I don't think humans and cats died out centuries ago.] He said, smirking.
((Yay for long post! xD ))
|
|
Zetty/Alfred
Chuunin
Zetsu/Kakuzu
The coolest four year old you'll ever know.
Posts: 289
|
Post by Zetty/Alfred on Dec 24, 2007 18:26:21 GMT -5
OoC:: :/ Short post. Sorries. I'm just kind of depressed over my game dieing on me. -snifflecry- WHY ME? ;w;
BiC:: “Well. not all of the time I’ve been here, no. I’ve been at it for the last few years, however.” Alfred’s words were somewhat slurred now as he fazed in and out of REM. Part of him, the Alfred the world knew, was stuck within a dream. The second Alfred who was much like a childish version of him was speaking. The other Alfred.. well, he had not awakened yet. In fact, he wouldn’t awaken for a month or two, if Alfred had calculated correctly.
“Oh, even if it does overtake me, what is the harm done there? At the end of the day, what do I have to go home to? I’d rather die trying to find immortality than die of old age. Life has lost its luster for me, this is honestly all I’ve gotten left. And I don’t know about you, but I find the work the boss throws at me extremely boring.” Alfred’s left hand was sprawled out on the ground, and it twitched every now and then. Just as the rest of his body did. It would seem his other, first side was stuck within a nightmare of sorts. Of course, it didn’t bother the other two sides of Alfred much; they liked to listen to him suffer within his own cinema.
Alfred subconsciously made a fist with his left hand, a look of trouble appearing on his face for a minute. It quickly faded, however, as he rolled over in his sleep.
“Don’t be a smartass, Blake. I meant the anthropomorphic cats that were a cause of human and cat DNA crossing.” He mentally rolled his eyes, voice almost an angry snapping tone.
|
|
Zetty/Alfred
Chuunin
Zetsu/Kakuzu
The coolest four year old you'll ever know.
Posts: 289
|
Post by Zetty/Alfred on Jan 11, 2008 17:20:19 GMT -5
OoC::
Bumpplz.
|
|
|
Post by Wolfdog on Jan 13, 2008 13:31:11 GMT -5
((Sorry; I will post ASAP. Stupid dishes are calling my name. *plugs ears* xD ))
|
|
Zetty/Alfred
Chuunin
Zetsu/Kakuzu
The coolest four year old you'll ever know.
Posts: 289
|
Post by Zetty/Alfred on Jan 14, 2008 1:10:17 GMT -5
OoC::
-thumbsup- Alrighty. I don't know when I'll be able to reply next. My life has completely and utterly crashed into the ground, so I might take a bit to find my feet once again.
|
|