Thread: Grave Matters: A Repo! Roleplay (SevenxKawamura)

Amazing how the monster seemed to chase away every living thing within a block of it. Graverobber stalked after him, keeping to the shadows and the figure??s own pace. It hadn??t taken long to catch up Graverobber had long enough legs and the Repo Man wasn??t the six-foot-six the stories said. Sorta short, really, the masked figures always looked so much taller in the tabloids. The evening was warm, though he barely minded. Z did that, made all the petty little problems of the flesh dim in its cool glow. Plus, his job called for layers. He??d recently just replaced his coat, having lost one he was rather fond of when he??d been grabbed a few weeks back. Apparently Amber??s boy toys didn??t like their rough housing, even if their boss had been the one to offer Graverobber a chance at the new parts. The porch, rotting wood with little support, creaked under his thick boots as he stepped up, and he froze, listening for any sound that would say ??The Repo Man??s heard you and his coming??. A loud ??thump??, though, had covered it up, and he tiptoed towards the door, every groan of the wood hidden by screams. By the time he had got into the house proper, the screams had stopped, and Graverobber was cursing the man for shutting up so quickly. Jesus. People couldn??t shut the fuck up when you wanted them to, but as soon as you needed them to keep you from getting scalped by the Repo Man? They took that time to die quietly, not a gurgle or a seizure to spare. Lucky for him, though, that he was following the sort of murderer that took pride in his work, tacky music and all. The blood added color to the house, really, better than the peeling, faded wallpaper and mouldy carpet. Probably improved the market value, at least for the squatters who moved in after someone came in to get the body. He??d have to remember this place, since squatters generally meant Zydrate addicts, and Zydrate addicts meant a wider consumer base, the man thought as he watched the death doctor go at the body. There was a certain art to it, you had to admit, the way he sawed through bone and tendon to get to the stem. Not like that part of the body was all that well protected, but it came with all sorts of fibers to pick out. This wasn??t just some hack and slash job like they made it into in the movies and zines. No, this was precision most surgeons would kill for ha!. Graverobber pressed back against the wall of the hallway as the monster dropped his victim. It wasn??t fear that made him push back so he could feel the way his shirt stuck his back from the sweat. It was a desire to keep out of the Repo Man??s way, like some sort of sick change over in shifts. This time, though, the man had lead him to a whole house of things to loot, not just a body. Made his life all that much easier. He knelt down, still keeping out of the way, and started to unfold his tool kit. There was enough room in the doorway that Repo Man would be able to go by him, even with the vinyl reproduction of scrubs he was wrapped in. It was rather professional, all in all, he thought as he reached for the syringe and empty vial, humming along to the jingle on the tube. When the doctor saw him, and Graverobber was sure he would being the only animate thing around for a few blocks that he wasn??t contracted to kill, the man turned his head up and nodded, stained lips widening into a smile. Now it was just waiting. He wouldn??t get in the way, not while the other was on the job. Professional courtesy and all. Graverobber liked the sound of that. And one GeneCo employee who wasn??t paid to shoot him on sight wouldn??t care. He was doing a service, after all, helping with the clean up. And helping the man stay in work, too. More Zydrate addicts meant more people brave enough to go for a surgery they wouldn't be able to afford. Kept them both in their jobs.