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niteo_logs2010-04-14 11:33 pm
glasgow-smilin.livejournal.com) wrote in niteo_logs2010-04-14 11:33 pm
Entry tags:
looks like death took a holiday...
Characters: The Joker, anybody else crazy enough to come by
When: April 14th, Afternoon
Where: Downtown Nesreca
Rating: Pg-13
Summary: Violent clown is violent
Gunshots rang out from the downtown side of Nesreca, a stark contrast to the quiet pattering of rain. The Joker was dancing in the parking lot of what had once been a department store, heavily armed and giggling maniacally. Every so often, he would whip about in a mockery of some elegant pose and open fire on one of the passing zombies.
Empty shells littered the ground around him, and once or twice, he had managed to trip over them, falling unceremoniously onto the ground before scrambling up to clip off another potshot at one of his new undead friends.
The ones that looked more ghostly he didn't bother with; the bullets just passed right through them. Waste of bullets. The still-dripping bodies of the soldiers caught in the civil war? Now, they were entertaining. They moved slow and were satisfying to watch when he scored a hit. He was taking a break from cracking their skulls open with a crowbar (infinitely more satisfying, but much more tiring), and was having fun switching between uzi, pistol, and the shotgun he had strapped over his shoulder.
He reached into his coat and withdrew one of the several grenades he'd decided to bring with him. There were boxes and boxes of them in the back; why not have a little fun?
As he was getting ready to pull the grenade he caught sight of a bald black man in an expensive, but blood-stained, suit. A trail of coagulated red streaked down from his temple, where a switchblade was still sticking out from. The Joker frowned and looked at the man, just about to pull the pin of the grenade and chuck it into the front of the department store building until a look of recognition lit up his face.
"Gambol! " he cried. fumbling with the grenade pin and the pistol he had in hand, trying to put the pin back and aim his gun at the man at the same time. "Long time no see!"
A blink. Then it wasn't Gambol.
It was Harvey.
The Joker held very still before cocking his head to the side. Maybe he'd gone a little too far off the deep end with that last episode.
"Nah... just far enough," he muttered. With a cackle, he pulled the grenade's pin, and, in his best bowling form, rolled it along the ground at the spectre of Harvey Dent.
"...here's your campaign donation, Harv!"
Raucous laughter, and then an explosion.
When: April 14th, Afternoon
Where: Downtown Nesreca
Rating: Pg-13
Summary: Violent clown is violent
Gunshots rang out from the downtown side of Nesreca, a stark contrast to the quiet pattering of rain. The Joker was dancing in the parking lot of what had once been a department store, heavily armed and giggling maniacally. Every so often, he would whip about in a mockery of some elegant pose and open fire on one of the passing zombies.
Empty shells littered the ground around him, and once or twice, he had managed to trip over them, falling unceremoniously onto the ground before scrambling up to clip off another potshot at one of his new undead friends.
The ones that looked more ghostly he didn't bother with; the bullets just passed right through them. Waste of bullets. The still-dripping bodies of the soldiers caught in the civil war? Now, they were entertaining. They moved slow and were satisfying to watch when he scored a hit. He was taking a break from cracking their skulls open with a crowbar (infinitely more satisfying, but much more tiring), and was having fun switching between uzi, pistol, and the shotgun he had strapped over his shoulder.
He reached into his coat and withdrew one of the several grenades he'd decided to bring with him. There were boxes and boxes of them in the back; why not have a little fun?
As he was getting ready to pull the grenade he caught sight of a bald black man in an expensive, but blood-stained, suit. A trail of coagulated red streaked down from his temple, where a switchblade was still sticking out from. The Joker frowned and looked at the man, just about to pull the pin of the grenade and chuck it into the front of the department store building until a look of recognition lit up his face.
"Gambol! " he cried. fumbling with the grenade pin and the pistol he had in hand, trying to put the pin back and aim his gun at the man at the same time. "Long time no see!"
A blink. Then it wasn't Gambol.
It was Harvey.
The Joker held very still before cocking his head to the side. Maybe he'd gone a little too far off the deep end with that last episode.
"Nah... just far enough," he muttered. With a cackle, he pulled the grenade's pin, and, in his best bowling form, rolled it along the ground at the spectre of Harvey Dent.
"...here's your campaign donation, Harv!"
Raucous laughter, and then an explosion.