Thread: Come For the Tea, Stay For the Party ✯✯ (M/F) (IM, PM or Thread RP Search)

RE Blue Hatter's Search for Role Play MF Role Play Samples In case anyone would like them, here are a few samples of my role play posts. None of these have any smut in them, they're from a PG-13 website Gaia Online, and they're all from group role plays... But they should give you some idea of my usual style and capabilities. Though I don't usually write this much in private role plays, especially IM role plays, so please don't think that I will always overwhelm you with a post like these. My first post is usually a bit longer, and previous ones tend to shrink a bit after it. These huge posts tend to mostly be for group role plays... The samples below were copied-and-pasted from my Gaia posts so they may have a little bit of formatting or colors in them that I'm too lazy to go through and remove. Alice in Wonderland Pirate Style See more Tea and rum. Tea and rum. Tea and rum, tea and rum, tea and rum. Tea. And. Rum. That was what it was all about, wasn't it? Wasn't that what it was really all about? This... this life, this house, this... place. Tea and rum. It had to be. It just had to. Or did it? What if it was about something completely different? Something else that Hatter hadn't even considered? Something so peculiar and spectacular that it hadn't even crossed his mind yet. What if it was about something else entirely? What if it was about... that day...? That day that he could barely even remember? Even now he could still feel the scorching heat of flames against his skin leaving him permanently scarred, the clattering and shattering of splintering wood structures, the horrid cries for help and pleadings for mercy, the smell of smoke and of liquid mercury. And yet he could see no one, it was as though he was lost in an endless abyss of black. He could hear himself calling out through the thunderous sounds, but his voice was lost. Calling, calling... He woke with a startle and found himself sitting in a rickety wooden chair by a similarly rickety-looking table. He must have dozed off. That certainly was a problem, nodding off like that, because whenever he did, he had that same dream. But it wasn't a dream. It was so much more than just a dream. Or at least he tried to convince himself that it was more than a simple flight of imagination during slumber. The scars upon his chest felt real enough, but that dream seemed so bizarre, so strange, so abnormal that it felt like it could not possibly hold any fact at all. In the dream he could not see a thing, making him wonder if it was even real at all. The blood he felt soaking his hands made him believe that he was both the victim and the cause of that terrible thing, whatever it was, but was that even possible? What was he not remembering? Hatter shrugged it off. Nothing but another nightmare probably brought on by some bad cheese, spoiled bread or perhaps some expired tea. No ! He could never, ever, blame the tea! When he wasn't doing anything, especially when he wasn't doing anything, his mind had a habit of wandering more so than normal, anyway, and that, too, was a problem all of its own. Because when his mind wandered it always went back to that same place. That same questionably real memory in which he had been trying so desperately to force from his mind for as long as he could, or could not, remember. He was doing nothing. He stopped and thought about that for a moment. Well, I suppose I'm not really doing nothing , he said aloud, placing a finger to his lips most thoughtfully. Because if I am doing nothing, than I am doing something. Because nothing is something. Even though that 'something' is nothing, and that nothing is something, nothing is nothing and something is something. Nothing, something-- something and nothing. I am a world of nothing, and a crumb of something. My something is nothing, and yet my nothing is something. He spoke most matter-of-factly as if he was having a conversation with someone, though there was no one else in his tiny little cabin. Well, no one alive , anyway. I am nothing, but I am something... Isn't that something? His name was Hatter, or at least that was what everyone called him, though some did call him the Mad Hatter. He wasn't entirely sure why people would call him mad, after all he was rarely angry, cross or even miffed. He was rarely mean, rarely cruel, rarely mad. One had to be of sane mind to be able to be angry, and even he knew that he was far from sane. ...Oh, maybe that was why they called him mad. Interesting. Well, either way, such single and one-sided conversations like in which Hatter had just jabbered on about were something of quite frequency with the young man. He found few better to talk with than with nothing. After all, nothing could say anything back to you, nothing could make any snide remarks to you, and nothing could neither agree nor disagree with you. Nothing was quite relaxing, was quite easy. And that was what Hatter liked. He liked nothing. And yet he liked everything, too. There was, however, one person who Hatter enjoyed talking with more than the nothing, someone who Hatter was wholly fascinated by and, like it or not, found himself quite smitten with. But who she was exactly he could not recall. Whether she was real or just another spark of imagination he could not say for certain, And yet he loved her, truly. He loved her with all he head, with as much as a Hatter could love, which was quite an impressive amount, if he did say so himself. He loved Alice. The one person who would never leave him, and the one person he trusted. Speaking of Alice... He reached over and looped his right index finger through the thin handle of a white porcelain teacup and brought the small cup to his lips. He could smell the warm liquid that he had filled it with before nodding off a strong mixture of tea and rum, a concoction which he himself had invented, and which only few could actually stomach. It was strong, bitter, tangy, earthy and yet very alcoholic-tasting. He quite enjoyed it. It soothed his fractured soul and helped dilute his shattered mind to help him forget what he wished to forget, or wished not to forget, or forget what he forgot, or... something like that. Either way, it helped dissolve the pain that may or may not be stemming from any factual event. He parted his pale lips, tilted the cup, and let the liquid flow past his teeth, over his tongue, and down his throat. After swallowing down about half of it, he lowered the cup back down. Now, onto more important matters. Alice. There was something about Alice. Something missing, and something he couldn't quite figure out. Alice was a mystery to him, perhaps as much as he was a mystery to her, and for as long as he had known her she was missing something. But what was she missing? Not only that, but it seemed to be something she, herself, was looking for. But what? She was far more complete than he could ever hope to be. She was something, she was full of muchness, which he knew that he lacked. But besides her muchness there was something about her that he just couldn't put his finger on. He brought the teacup back to his lips and swallowed down the remaining bit of hot tea-rum, and let his thoughts roll through his surprisingly cluttered mind. Something... Something... And suddenly he shot up onto his feet and stood straight and tall. He barely even felt the porcelain mask tied to him by a violet ribbon smack into his left shoulder. Ah-ha! he shouted loudly, and tossed the fragile teacup at the hard wooden floor. He didn't bother to watch the magnificent explosion of porcelain shards fly about-- it had been a sight he had seen quite often, and the countless pieces of countless broken teacups scattered all across the floor of his small home were proof of that. I've got it! Alice! With much fervor and determination Hatter stomped confidently from his room. He had figured it out. He had finally figured it out, he had discovered what Alice was missing, and he could even help! Now he just needed to find her, and he knew exactly where she would be where she always was. That was a peculiar thing about Alice she never left her spot. Maybe that was where she felt most comfortable, and if so, he could not fault her for that. Though how she could just stand in place all the time and not get tired was beyond him. Perhaps she rested when he was not looking? Hatter took a right and trotted down the hallway. It was just a short hallway, barely worth the name, and at the end he took another right to enter into another room that was somewhat smaller than the one he had been in previously. It was a bedroom, and despite the size it was the largest bedroom in the house. The bed was made as it always was, the floor was dusty but showed little signs of use and the only footprints in the dust were those of his own, though he barely noticed that fact, and cobwebs hung in every corner of the room. Perhaps Alice liked spiders, that was the only reason he could think of why she would keep those nasty little creatures around. He spotted the fair Alice standing in the corner of the room, the same place she always stood in-- no doubt it was her favorite spot in the entire house. Alice! Alice, I've discovered it! Hatter declared, waving his arms about like a flamboyant pirate as he stepped up to the young lady. Once he was within two feet of her he stopped, clenched his fingers, released them, and brought his hands down a bit. And then, as he spoke, he began to manuever them around in a rather unpredictable manner. Talking with his hands was another one of Hatter's charming quirks. What you need, my dear Alice... he said, then paused as if for dramatic effect. He raised his hands up and then swept them downward and stretched them across his body most brilliantly. Is a hat! A nice, big hat! He tapped the brim of his top hat with his left middle finger but then as the words began to sink into him, he stopped again, brought his right index finger back to his lips. Now that he really thought about it perhaps that wasn't really what Alice was lacking. Well, now it jus' sounds stupid... he admitted and gave a nod of his head. It sounded better in my head-- but doesn't everything? But ev'ry lady needs a big, fancy hat, does she not? I can make you one, I assure you, and... He paused after a moment, took in a breath, and let it out slowly. Why will you not say anything to me, my dear? He asked, brought his hand up to stroke her soft canvas face, and brushed aside a strand of her golden wig hair. Was my idea truly that distasteful? I apologize if I have offended you, love, I meant no harm... He pulled lightly at the frilly collar of her dress to straighten it. Please, my Alice, will you not say anything to me? Why are you so quiet? Are you angry with me? he asked, his voice softening and saddening, his eyes pleading with her to answer and entirely unable to see that the Alice standing before him was nothing but a mannequin. Yes, the Alice whom he lived with, who he shared his life with and had countless conversations with was nothing but a lifeless, faceless fabric mannequin that he himself had dressed up in a frilly blue dress, white stockings and ankle-high black shoes something that could not reply to him. And yet Hatter could not see that, could not see the truth, and simply loved his Alice with all of his heart, for in his eyes this thing was a real, living person who was beautiful, kind, and loving. She was the woman that every woman wanted to be, and the woman every man wanted to be with, and the type of woman that Hatter knew that he did not deserve. O-oh... you mus' be tired, he said, trying to add a cheerful tone to his voice. I see. I will leave you be, than... But do think about my offer, yes? He moved closer and placed a light kiss to the mannequin's canvas forehead. Please, rest easy, my dear. I will check in on you in a li'l while. With that, Hatter bowed politely and stepped from the room, shut the door behind him. Once he heard the door lock, he leaned himself back against it, let out a soft, sad sigh, and felt his heart, or what was left of it, sink even lower. Sometimes Alice could be so mean... Did she even love him anymore? Tell me, Alice..., he began, his voice but a whisper, his hand clutching his heart, Why is a heart jus' like a vase...? Alice in Wonderland Post-Apocalyptic See more H er name was Kitty, from Kansas City, Sure was a pity she wasn't pretty, Darkness... Screams... Tiny bits of light... Be quiet! Bleed! She's not so hard to see, She weighs two-forty three, There was blood. So much blood. And still the screaming... The screaming, why didn't the screaming stop? Stop screaming! It will be over soon, and thou shalt be so much more... more ! I hope she doesn't get much fatter, But if she does, that doesn't matter The poor fool begged for mercy as though it would really help, as though anything would stop. But it wouldn't stop. None of this would stop, not until he had finished. And yet... the screams faded. The body went limp... No pulse, no movement, no breathing. Another one gone. Another failed experiment. Such a shame. Kitty from Kansas City, Now there's a girl that I adore, Hatter turned up the music loud enough that it could even be heard outside of the rundown estate, and yet even that wasn't enough to drown out the sound of memories. He could still hear those screams, the sounds of cutting and slashing, and the horrible words that had come from his mouth without his control. He could not recall what exactly had transpired, but he could remember bits and pieces. That was enough. Hatter was in the middle of what was once a library, though now the shelves held very few books. Dressed in his usual finest, he was holding tightly to a dusty cloth mannequin as though he was holding a woman, with one hand on its back, the other on its waist. And he danced. He danced around the room, to and fro, turning and swaying about. Quite light on his feet was Hatter. He enjoyed dancing, it kept him moving, kept him active, and kept him from thinking. He hated thinking. He hated thinking because when he thought he only thought about the vile things he had done-- or at least presumed that he had done, he had no real recollection of any truly horrible doings-- and it kept him from thinking about what a monster he had become. The record playing the music just across the room scratched every so often but he paid it little mind. Instead he sang along with it, sang to the mannequin, and he danced with it. One, two, three one, two three... Dip, turn, strut, one, two, three... She's so dumb, she doesn't know a thing, Why, she thinks that July the Fourth is an English King! He sang with the male voice on the record, keeping perfect pitch and perfect rhythm while doing so. It seemed that Hatter wasn't half bad at singing, either. It was true that the song might offend anyone who heard it, especially if that person was a woman named Kitty, but for some reason Hatter found the tune rather amusing. Perhaps it was due to his fractured, broken mind-- yes, he could blame it on that. And besides, in a world such as this one where death and ruin ran rampant, and people did almost anything they could just to stay alive, any type of recorded music could be difficult to come by, so you would take whatever you could get, and there was little use complaining about it. But Alice didn't seem to mind his awkward taste in music, or at least if she did she never said anything about it. You're such a fabulous dancer, my dear! he added quickly and then continued on singing along. I love her, I love her, that's easy to see It's Kansas City Kitty for me. And he loved Alice. He loved Alice with all of his heart. He loved her as much as a Hatter could love-- and a Hatter could love quite an impressive amount, if he did say so himself. There wasn't much that a Hatter could do, they tended to be quite the useless lot in fact, but if there was one thing a Hatter could do it was love. Or so he hoped... Speaking of Alice, she was being unusually quiet. That wasn't like her, not at all. He began to slow his steps until he came to a complete stop, Alice flopped back in his arms without the motion to keep her mannequin body upright, but Hatter seems little concerned about her apparent floppiness. Instead, he was much more considered about her silence. He bought a hand to caress lightly against her right cheek but it didn't feel warm or cold, or anything else, really so she must not be feeling under the weather... So what could it be? Are you feeling alright? he asked the lifeless human-shaped piece of stuffed material. He waited no response. Alice? Are you alright? Will you not say something? He waited again, but this time he got a reply, but much to his dismay it was not from the mannequin-- or Alice-- but from another source. A source he would have much preferred to have remained silent. Thou hath upset fair Alice, came the dark, gravely voice, a voice that only he could hear, which he wasn't entirely sure was a good thing or bad. Quiet! was Hatter's only sharp reply. The voice chuckled lowly. I merely speak the truth. Alice doth not speak for she is, understandably, repulsed... the voice paused for only a moment, perhaps for dramatic effect, before continuing. Sirrah, vile Hatter-creature, doth thou not see this truth? Hatter was silent as he seemed to mull over that thought. Was Alice truly disgusted by him? Feared him, even? He could not really blame her if that was the case, he was disgusted with himself as well, feared himself-- or, more precisely, his other self-- so he could imagine her own distrust in him... But she had never shown any such resentment before, and what was more, she was the only thing that kept Hatter sane... Well, as sane as he could be . The voice spoke again. Prithee, an answer? It seemed far too amused. ...Poppycock! said Hatter, finally. Poppycock, I say to you, Hatta! And again! Alice only needs some rest-- don't you, my sweet? The mannequin's stuffed head fell over toward Hatter's chest, the fault of gravity no doubt, but it was enough to ensure him that she had just nodded in agreement. Hatta, that dark, twisted voice gave him no objection as Hatter picked the mannequin up into his arms, much like a newlywed husband would sweep his wife off of her feet and into his arms, and carried the thing out of the library, down a musty, dusty hallway of fun house mirrors that distorted Hatter's reflection in every possible fashion as he passed them, and into a room down at the end of the path. He pushed open the door with his left foot, heard it creak as it swayed open, and brushed aside a few cobwebs as he stepped inside. The room held a large bed with a red patterned blanket and red silk sheets, a pillow encased in the same red silk, and the tall wooden frame of the bed was draped with crimson bed curtains. The room also had a desk of finely-carved dark oak and matching chair, stacks of books, a golden globe of the planet that only had a few missing countries that had fallen off the object and had gotten lost only the queen knew where, and an elaborate beige rug. All of these things had been left here when Hatter had stumbled upon the estate only a few years ago. Why anyone would abandon such a place and with everything in it was beyond him, and they had even left a few dusty skeletons-- dressed skeletons at that. It was peculiar but he never gave it much thought. Hatter carefully laid the mannequin Alice onto the bed and pulled the blankets over the limp body, and when he pulled them a thick cloud of dust seemed to erupt, causing him to cough and hack he felt a tingle on his shoulder and brushed it, cringing sickly when he realized that he had just brushed off a spider. Alice really did keep her room quite a mess. It was unlike Hatter to leave things so mess, at least to this degree, but this was Alice's room and it was none of his business how she kept it. And besides, for all he knew maybe she liked spiders, even if they were horrible, vile and disgusting little creatures that should be stomped on promptly whenever in sight. Once the dust settled and he stopped coughing he ran his hand lovingly over Alice's burlap face, felt the roughness of it under his fingertips she could really use some lotion, he thought, and then spoke softly... Rest easy, my dear. I shall be in the library should you need me. Ah-- I love you. Hatter waited for a response, perhaps even a grateful I love you too, but he received nothing in return. Nothing but silence. He felt his fractured heart sink a bit, but he kept a straight face. He simply bowed his head and backed out of the room, closed the door behind him, leaned back against it. He sighed. Perhaps Hatta was right, maybe Alice really did not love him anymore... If she ever really had to begin with. What could he do to make her love him again? He could hear the record still playing, echoing down the hallway, but it skipped and kept repeating over and over.. I love her, I love her I love her, I love her I love her, I love her I love her, I love her... See more Harvest Moon See more A hill overlooking the small town below. A light breeze that made the grace dance and would tickle one's skin. Leaves in the trees behind rustling, singing a low, slow melody of the woods. Here one could see the entire town and even the shore and the glimmering sea surrounding the island. Here one could be at peace, get away from the town that was as busy as it was strange, and simply be alone. Here one could run away from their problems-- or, as this case was, lack of problems-- and feel as though time had stood still, even though it was quite obvious that it had not. And that was where he was at the moment. He sat in the cool grass, his legs bent, knees about to his chest, his eyes gazing over the town below. He could make out the people pacing the streets, who looked like teeny, tiny toys from this distance. But wasn't that what this place really was, just a big toy box for some strange and powerful god who liked to play with the souls of the departed? It did not matter. Who was he? He was a young man, who would be about twenty-three, if he were still alive. He was tall, fit, and relatively well-groomed despite his somewhat rustic appearance. Short brown hair and matching closely-shaven goatee, golden eyes, and skin that could just barely if at all be called tanned, dressed in a green suit shirt, white an black vest and matching shoes,black pants, and black studded tie, to some he might look like a shop-owner or some other merchant, but he was far from that. He was an officer of the law-- a police officer-- though he wasn't sure why he required such a position here, or even how he got it. When he woke up just a few weeks ago on this island he knew that his appointed position was that of an officer, somehow he knew that, though he had no idea how. Still, this place, this curious little island that the people here called Elthia though weird island seemed to be a better name for it, in his opinion, seemed to have little use for such a position. Sure, there were the occasional heated arguments, the rare thefts here and there, but nothing major, nothing that the citizens themselves could not work out having an actual police officer-- not to mention a police station-- seemed completely unneeded and pointless. Unneeded and pointless just like him. His name was Enzio Lo Iacono, and the fact was that he could not remember much of his previous life. He could remember bits and pieces, some of them in a relatively random order, but very few complete memories. Even more puzzling was how exactly he died, or why he died the only clues he had relating to his death was a small box of matches that read Springroad Motel 520 PM, as well as the scars upon his chest one long gash reaching from the top of his left pectoral down to the upper right side of his waist and two deep an round scars near where his beating heart once resided. He was dead, Enzio knew that for sure. Deceased, and there was no changing that. But his clouded, jumbled memory made him wonder if any of his presumed past had ever been real in the first place, had he ever really been alive or was it all just some dream that he himself had concocted? It did not matter. Not now. Sighing aloud, Enzio loosened his torso and let himself fall back onto the grass. It crunched under the weight of his back. He rolled his head just a bit, working out the kinks in his neck, and let his eyes stare up into the sky. Such a strange place this was. He was bored. Bored like he was mostly every day. There was never anything for interesting to do here when you were used to a life of car chases, shoot-outs, investigations and hostage negotiations. When you were used to laying down the powerful fist of the law on. If any of that had ever been real, that is. Beside him sat a small box of juice that he had already pierced the top of with the accompanying straw, and the box pictured a strawberry and a banana, both with goofy cartoon grins, giving a hint as to the flavor of the drink. Enzio reached over and took the box into his right hand, brought it closer and the straw to his lips, took a sip. Ah, the simple pleasures of a juicebox. It was childish perhaps, but when there was so much on his mind-- or so little, or pretty much any other time-- Enzio felt himself easily comforted by the simplicity of a juicebox. Granted the darned things didn't hold much so they could hardly quench the thirst of a grown man, but when it came to easing his nerves a box or two did just fine. Unfortunately, this one was already over half finished. And with just a few sips more he had polished it off. He had another couple on his person as he always had at least four with him whenever he went out, but he didn't rightly feel like whipping out another one. Not yet. Enzio remained where he was for a little while more before he finally decided that he had laid around enough, and he stood up, dusted himself off, and began the slow journey back down the hill toward the town. The juicebox had been crushed, and he tossed it back over his shoulder and heard it hit the grass somewhere behind him. Sekirei See more W eve got a 10-29v, white sedan, damage to left fender. All units to handle, code three identify. Copy that, dispatch, 10-2, officers are currently in pursuit of the stolen vehicle. Suspect is armed, code two. With the window rolled down Hiroyuki Aiyougosha felt the cool rush of the morning wind against his face and sifting through his hair. It felt good, and in a fair bit of opposition to the rush of adrenaline currently pumping through his veins. Sirens blaring, his foot pressed to the gas pedal, some-odd horsepower engine revving like an angry beast as his car sped up, allied officers in front and behind him This wasnt his first car chase, but it was shaping up to be his most exciting. The day had started off relatively uneventful, with him clocking in to his work at Tokyo Police Department at the appointed time, and getting set to patrol his route. His route, as usual, was also uneventful. The same old thing, the same people milling about the streets, the same buildings that he drove by each and every day. But that peaceful day was soon shattered when he received word of an A.P.B. All Points Bulletin, a stolen car, and no less stolen by a suspected member of the Blanc Militia, a gang of low-lives who had led an outbreak of mass kidnappings over the past few weeks. If this man truly was a part of that group, or had any sort of connection to the kidnappings, there was no way he could get away. All available officers had been called in for the high-speed pursuit, and Hiroyuki was one of them. Now his blood was pumping and his heart was racing as his powerful police cruiser shot down the highway, along with his fellow officers. He could see the gleaming white vehicle just two cars ahead of him, dodging in and out around stopped traffic. Hadnt dispatch cleared the lanes yet? What was taking so long? By now the pursuit had gone on for about an hour, and whoever the driver was, he knew what he was doing. Somehow he had managed to avoid all stop strips tossed his way, and had overcome all attempts at the Precision Immobilization Technique or PIT maneuver to stop him. Clearly this wasnt the felons first rodeo. Dispatch, vehicles is currently traveling West on Takinogawa Itchome, toward twenty-two-fourteen, Hiroyuki reported into his radio. He paused for a moment as the suspect took a sharp left into a lane of oncoming trafficthankfully which had already been blocked off. Now heading onto Sugamo. Repeat, suspect is on Sugamo. Copy that, suspect is on Sugamo, all units, 10-0, replied dispatch, the female voice staticy over the channel. Finally the suspects vehicle turned sharply off to the right and soared down an off ramp. Hiroyukis vehicle caught some air as he accelerated over the median to follow, and jetted down the path. Suspect is heading into a residential area! one of the officers reported over the radio. Shinobazu Dori! Shinobazu Dori? That put them all right along the street toward Murata Girls High School. Hiroyuki felt his heart skip a beat. Could the suspect be looking to use the high school for cover, and in the process endanger the lives of countless students and faculty? Hiroyuki pushed the pedal to the metal to speed up his vehicle even more, but even at this speed it wouldnt be enough to get to the fleeing vehicle in time to try to stop it. He could only breathe a sigh of relief as the vehicle, followed by over a half dozen officers, sailed clear past the school grounds. On the other hand, it also set them toward the industrial district, where if they lost sight of the suspect, he would be near impossible to locate again with all of the office buildings and factories scattered around. Far too many places to hide. There was one thing that Hioruyki thought was rather strange about this whole incident While the driver had been evading police forces, and quite successfully at that, he had never seemed to actually be trying to get away. Instead, he acted as though he wanted the police to follow him, as though he was trying to lure them all into a trap. A trap. A trap. That was it! Dispatch, I think that the suspect is trying to make it to his home base, Hiroyuki announced into the radio. Ill bet hes got friends waiting there for him. Armed allies. There was silence for a moment as dispatch seemed to mull it over before they replied. Copy that, officer Aiyougosha, dispatch replied. Weve received no other word of this but we will have special weapons and tactics standing by just in case. S.W.A.T.? Now there was a force to be reckoned with. Sure enough the suspect had led them into a large, vacant shipping buildinga large, C-shaped building with only one way in and one way out. It was the perfect hideout as one could lure their prey in and easily pick them off while cutting off any escape route. Now it was blatantly obvious this just one of the hideouts for the Blanc Militia. The suspects vehicle came to a screeching halt instead the middle of the place, and it was only moments later that police cars followed it in and began jumping out from their cruisers with weapons at the ready. The criminal quite literally kicked open the driver side door and stepped out. All officers had their weapons pointed at him, but what came next was something none could have expected. The felon, masked and dressed in gray pants, black boots, a white shirt and a long black coat, slid out, and with him came a young woman, his left arm clenched tightly around her neck, and with his right hand pointing a gun to her head. Hes got a hostage, dont shoot! shouted one of the officers. Still, everyone kept at the ready, even as the girl kicked and screamed in fear and as the criminal drug her silently into the building. All officers watched helplessly as the girl and her captor disappeared behind a large iron door. A.D.W. Hiroyuki stood behind one of the towering armored S.W.A.T. vans, zipping up his officers uniform over a thick and heavy bullet proof vest. The vest weighted and slowed him down, but at least it would save his life. Hopefully. Next to him was another officer, a named Ken Ogata, a thin but well-built man about Hiroyukis age. He was the fastest runner in the entire Tokyo PD, and his wife had recently given birth to a little girl, which Ken was all too thrilled about as he constantly showed off pictures to everyone he could. Even now in the moment of down time as everyone prepared themselves Ken was showing Hiroyuki a round of pictures of the little baby girl, commenting on her cute red cheeks and adorable mess of brown hair. Hiroyuki couldnt deny that the baby was cute. Whether he wanted to admit it or not he had a soft spot for cute things. He couldn't deny that he sort of envied the guy. You shoulda seen her this morning! Ken was saying. The she was cooing before I left, it was like she knew I was going and didnt want her papa to leave. It was so cute! Hiroyuki gave off a slight smirk. Or maybe she couldnt wait to get rid of you, he teased his friend. He looked down to finish latching the vest around his torso. Aw, cmon, you know youre just jealous, Ken replied, just as teasingly. Cause you dont have a iBANG! Kens voice cut off. He coughed and choked violently. Hot, warm liquid splashed over Hiroyukis hands. He looked up to see what was wrong, only to see the terrified look in his friends eyes as crimson blood splattered and spurt from a hole straight through his throat. Kens eyes dimmed and he collapsed. Ken was Ken was dead! No! Hiroyuki froze. Sniper! he heard one of the S.W.A.T. sergeants call out. Everyone, get behind cover! Whered it come from!? came another shout. Dropping behind the open door of the van, Hiroyuki took another glance at his friend, now laying in a pool of blood, before peeking out around the corner to inspect the area around him. It would be near impossible to locate the sniper, what with the hundreds of windows on three sides of them. Sitting out in the middle of this building was nothing short of suicide. BANG! Another shot burst through the air. The shot barely smashed straight through the armor-plated door and just barely missed Hiroyukis right leg before impacting into the pavement below him. A high-powered, armor-piercing bullet? Great, not only were these guys armed, but with military-grade weaponry to boot! From the Southeast! he shouted. Two hours had passed a little progress had been made. Though negotiators had arrived to try to sooth the situation and plead for the release of any hostages inside, their requests had been met with silence. Though theyd even tried threats, those got the negotiators nowhere. The area was dreadfully, eerily silent, as if the criminals had never been there at all. The officers hadnt even been shot at again. There was no more time for waiting. The more time the passed the more danger the hostageshowever many of them t here werewere in. By now the S.W.A.T. had armed themselves with full body armor, assault rifles, and flashbang grenades. Even a number of the officers had suited up for the infiltration, including Hiroyuki. The standoff was tense, but it was time to take the upperhand. A smaller group of S.W.A.T. members led the charge. At the front of the group they carried a battering ram, others used their shields to provide overhead cover. Hiroyuki, the other officers and the rest of the S.W.A.T. team stayed ducked behind vehicles, but close to the infiltration unit. The battering ram hit the iron door with a loud thud that echoed throughout the entire exterior. The door dented a little but barely budged. The two S.W.A.T. officers manning the ram pulled back and swung it down again, hitting the door a second time with another thunderous boom. The door gave a tiny bit more. Once again they charged up and swung the steel weapon forward, and finally, with a loud crash that sounded nearly like an old fashioned cannon firing, the door gave way under the mass of steel and collapsed. Taking a brief moment for himself Hiroyuki lifted a small kitten-shaped keychain that he had withdrew from his breast pocket, and let his eyes inspect the small figure with its soft curves and gentle face. It had been something of a good luck charm that he kept with him at all times, and more than that, it was simply cute. He tapped the tiny figure with the tip of his ring finger at heard it make its digitized mew sound The S.W.A.T. sergeant waved his hand up in the air signaling for all those going in to follow. He confirmed this with the sharp order of Q.T.! Move, move, move! Hiroyuki, keeping in tide with the officers and remaining S.W.A.T., filed through the now opened doorway. The sergeant then silently signaled for them to split into four four-man teams team Alpha would go North, team Beta would head South, team Gamma would take the stairs up, and team Delta would head downstairs. A fifth team, dubbed team Epsilon, was the group of officers still waiting outside and keeping control of the perimeter. Hiroyuki was assigned to team Gamma. The building was old, ruined and dilapidated, the clich hiding place for any fleeing suspect. But Hiroyuki knew all too well that these people werent just your average, run-of-the-mill hiding criminals, these were practiced and witty individuals who had managed to elude the police for months. Even if the police successfully disarmed and captured the criminals here it was unlikely that it would have much, if any, affect on the Blanc Militia itself. These guys were just a small part of a much larger organization, and a much greater conspiracy. With his teammates in tow, Hiroyuki maneuvered his way through the crumbling building as stealthily as possible, which wasnt all that easy to do with the heavy armor he was wearing. With one hand on his police-issued revolver and the other on his radio, he silently made his way down one hallway and then other, each one just as old, just as empty as the last. The stench of decaying building materials and human fear flooded his nostrils but he pressured on. At the end of the corridor it split into two paths. The lead of his small team suggested they split in half and each two-man group take a separate path. They did so, and he followed is partner off to the right. The farther they got the stronger the smell of unwashed clothes and bodily fluids became, a clear sign that terrified hostages were nearby, or had been there fairly recently. It could very well mean that they were on the path to finding at least some of the kidnapped hostages. Hiroyukis concentration was broken when he bumped into the back of his partner who had stopped suddenly. I thought I heard somethin, said his partner, waving his hand lowly to signal Hiroyuki to get down and stay where he was. Ill go check it out. Hiroyuki nodded, and the man, just slightly older than him, headed off. Crouched in place Hiroyuki carefully scanned the area around him. KA-BOOM! The building shook with a violent explosion, Hiroyuki coughed and sputtered through a cloud of dust, used a hand to shield his head from chunks of falling plaster. Its a trap! cried a voice over the radio, filled with static and electronic pops from bad reception. Man do-n! Yut--ka hit a b---y trap! Theyve g-- wire gr---de --aps! It was hard to understand with the bad signal but there was no doubt they were in danger. Very much danger. These criminals were pros. Code ten! rang over the walkie-talkie. That confirmed it. You, freeze! Hiroyuki heard his partners voice echo down the hallway in front of him. Drop yer weapon hands in the air! Hiroyuki went into a mad dash to catch up with his partner. If he had found one of the criminals it was far too dangerous to face them alone. I said drop it! he hear his partner shout again before rounds of gunfire echoed down the hallway. Run, Hiroyuki, run! He thought to himself. He needs help! He skidded around a corner on the balls of his feet, had to grip a window sill to help guide his turn and keep him from crashing into a wall, and just as quickly he dropped to a knee and drew his weapon in a defensive stance to act as his partners back-up. Unfortunately, what he saw next made him realize that he was far too late. Just a few feet in front of him his partner lay motionless, a puddle of blood around him, and his gun dropped just inches away from his hand. The shooter, a couple yards away, was holding a bloodied rag to his left knee but when he caught sight of Hiroyuki he stood and brought his weapon to ready. Yet Hiroyuki didnt seem to notice this. No, he was too fixated on the motionless, lifeless body of the man before him. Now two friends had died. Two friends were dead and he could do nothing about it. He had joined the police force in an effort to help peopleto serve and protect as the motto wentand yet he was so weak that he couldnt even help his friends. His friends were dead and it was all his fault. If only he had been stronger. The sound of a footstep brought him back to reality, and he looked up in time to see the shooter stepping slowly, carefully closer. In a panic, Hiroyuki slipped and fell back onto his butt and dropped his revolver next to him. His eyes wide with fear, he watched the criminal step closer and closer. He froze, filled with terror he was unable to move, unable to think, unable to even blink. He wanted to scream but he couldnt muster the strength to do so. And when he heard the cocking of the fiends gun he closed his eyes tightly, not wanting to witness the outcome, not wanting to see where his own carelessness and weakness had led him. BAM! He waited a long moment in the blackness of closed eyes before he finally, slowly opened them. The criminal stood before him still, and Hiroyuki could have jumped out of his skin, but much to his surprise the criminals arms went limp. The pistol fell to the floor, and the criminal dropped to his knees. His eyes rolled back into his head, his mouth agape, and curiously Hiroyuki could see the wall clearly behind them through a small hole a small hole cutting cleanly through the criminals forehead. He fell over onto his stomach. Shaking, Hiroyuki checked himself over for any damage. He felt over his face, his chest, his stomach nothing. No holes, not wounds, nothing. That was when he noticed the revolver gripped tightly in his right hand, and when he realized what had transpired. In his panic his body had moved on its own in that split second, and somehow hed managed to let off a shot and down the criminal. Hed killed him. Hed killed that man, that vile, evil man. That mans blood was on his hands and yet he felt nothing, no remorse, no sadness or guilt. Instead, he felt joy. He felt happiness, excitement and relief. Or at least he was pretty sure that was what he was felling, it was hard to tell with his pulse pounding so rapidly and with his heart beating so violently that it threatened to burst from his chest. He stood up and kicked away the fallen criminals weapon and inspected him carefully to make sure he was down for the count, and then went back to his partners side. He pressed his forefinger and index finger to the mans throat but could feel no breath, no pulse. He took a breath and again his heart sank and the overpowering rush of fear swept over him again. Fear that he had just made his first kill. Fear that, so very easily, the places could have been switched. This was far from his first shootout, but it was his first kill, his first death. Yes, he knew that it was his duty, he knew that it was in defense, and he knew all too well that the criminal had more than likely deserved such an end, but still... but still... Aiyougosha, watch out! came a voice from behind him, but it was too late. He didnt even have a chance to react before he heard the shot of a large caliber rifle, and just a moment let felt an immense pain in his back as if a body-builder had just punched him as hard as they could while wearing a set of brass knuckles. Something pierced his vest. He didnt even have time to let out a cry or even fully feel the pain before his body went numb, before his vision blurred, and he collapsed into the pool of his partners blood that was now being enlarged with his own. Another loud gunshot, the sound of rapid footsteps. The last thing Hiroyuki heard before his world went black and he lost consciousness was 10-00, officer down! We need an ambulance, repeat, 11-41, ambulance needed! ---- Hiroyuki slowly stirred himself awake, rose up, and turned his head from side to side to work out the stiffness that had come about from being hunched over the counter. Had he fallen asleep? What time was it? He glanced around the area. There weren't many people around still. Good, so it hadn't been that long... Hey, Hiro, if you've got time to sleep then you've got time to help out! he heard his father's booming voice coming from behind him, off somewhere in the kitchen. Get in here and help me clean this place. Our busy time will be starting up soon. Busy time was when more customers began to arrive, usually after work, around dinner time. Except for then and early in the morning his family's restaurant was usually vacant of customers. That wasn't so bad, between those times it gave him a lot of down time to slack off. Though it wasn't so good if he started thinking about the past... Yeah, yeah, I'm comin', Hiroyuki gave his annoyed reply. He stood and, rubbing the back of his stiff neck with his right hand, slowly made his way into the kitchen. Old man...