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About zackrobbman

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    With all the force of a great, typhoon! BE A MAN! Get it? No?....I'm a guy.
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    Nothing I'd fight too hard for, and that is very depressing.
  • Occupation
    Full-time Convenience store clerk!

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  1. Due to some internet issues and some things I've been neglecting in life, I'm deeply sorry to annouce that I'm going to be going AFV for a while. Might be on periodically if I can get to a library, but I'm just giving everyone the heads up that I will not be on nearly as much as Inused to. 

    I'm sorry.

    @Ghastardly @OctoberSkys @Kingofgames12 @Trevor Wisegem @danzilla3 @HumanBean03

    1. OctoberSkys


      ❤️ Take care of yourself! Dont worry about us! I hope you get better and things start looking up! 

    2. Kingofgames12


      Take care of yourself man. I hope you return someday.

    3. Trevor Wisegem

      Trevor Wisegem

      Hope you find what you need. I've been absent for similar reasons. 

  2. zackrobbman

    V - Fighter Quotes!

    @danzilla3 - CALL OUT😄 [ ZACK ] - to SOM Pre-Fight: "Are you just as annoying as the guy you remind me of?" End-fight: "Sorry, but I've got a lot of practice with guys like you." Mid-Fight: "OW! Did you steal that move from Charlie!?" Team-Up: "Try not to blow me up like my idiot partner." [ ZACK ] -to MAL Pre-Fight: "Aw, man....you know magic don't you?"😟 End-Fight: "How can you hate Jazz music? It's the best!" Mid-fight: "I'd rather you stick to the guns and knives. They piss me off less!"😠 Team-Up: "Did you wanna help me with a mark after this?" [ CHARLIE ] - to SOM Pre-Fight: "There's only room in Terrenus for ONE smokin' hot ladies man!" End-Fight: "Get outta here! You're confusing the ladies!" Mid-Fight: "Now I know how Sonic felt in SA2!"😕 Team-Up: "I'm pranking my partner later. You in?"
  3. zackrobbman

    V - Fighter Quotes!

    I like em! I'd like to hear more. You can think of stuff they'd say to my characters too. Or even tag a user and call em out.😁 Also, i'm adding MAL and SOM to the roster in the first post! A roster I just decided to make.
  4. zackrobbman

    V - Fighter Quotes!

    V-FIGHTER THEME This is going to come off as way too ambitious, but I'm sleep deprived and am generally an all-or nothing kind of guy. So here goes.🙁 One of my favorite things about street fighter and the fighting game genre period are the different quotes of each character. Whether its during the fight, after the fight, are before the fight, I'm always eager to hear what they got to say. It adds depth and maybe even a little backstory to each character, making them feel like more than just 'that one fighter from that one game'. I'm so into it that I often make up battle quotes myself, imagining that either I or a certain character of mine is in a fighting game. It's surprisingly fun despite making me look insane when I'm on the way to work. SO, because its not as crazy once you get other people to do it, I decided to make a little thread in the chat for those of you who would like to post what your character would say if they were in a fighting game such as Street Fighter/MVC/Injustice/Portal Wombat etc. Here's an example of a what I mean. [ ZACK ] General Pre-Fight: *catches shield and rolls neck to get the kinks out* "Do we have to do this? Can I eat first?" General Pre-Fight: *catches shield and rolls neck to get the kinks out* "I'm guessin' you wanna fight. Why are you all so violent?" General Pre-Fight: *walks up while twirling shield on his finger like a basketball. Flicks it up with finger and catches it. Notices opponent* "What? Does my face piss you off?" General Pre-Fight: *walks up while twirling shield on his finger like a basketball. Flicks it up with finger and catches it. Notices opponent* "...What? You wanna fight? Me? Seriously? Right now?" General End-Fight: *kneels down and looks at opponent* "Aw, man. You're not dead are you?" General End-Fight: *kneels down and looks at opponent* "Did'ja have fun fighting me, chump?" General End-Fight: *catches shield whilst picking nose* "Hey, you wanted this. Not me." General End-Fight: *catches shield whilst picking nose* "You start it, I FINISH it." And of course there's specific dialogue with other characters. You can even call out certain users characters on the site by tagging them and mentioning their characters before saying something. I'll just post an example of Charlie and Zack so you get the idea. [ ZACK ] - to CHARLIE Pre-Fight: "You fighting me to impress some chick? I'd hate to make your face any uglier man, but I WILL." Pre-Fight: "OOOooooOOOOooohhh, fire. Are ya gonna roast me as bad as the girls roast you?" End-Fight: *sighs* "Guess I'm gonna have to carry you back home again." End-Fight: "You SHOOT FIRE AT PEOPLE! Did you expect me to go easy on you?!" [ CHARLIE ] - to ZACK Pre-Fight: "You ain't gonna have a face when I'm done with you. Watch in awe, ladies!!!" Pre-fight: "Let's see you be a smart*** after I've melted your diaphragm, B****!" End-Fight: "I FINALLY GOT'CHU- *clears throat* I mean, I wiped the flo' with yo punk-a** like I always do." End_Fight: "D-did you see that ladies? Barely broke a sweat!" [ CHARLIE ] - to FEMALE CHARACTER Pre-Fight: "It's gettin' hot in here! So take off all yo' clothes!~" Pre-Fight: "C'mon baby, you know there's only one way you can take this heat." General End-fight: "I came, I saw, I BURNT YO A** UP!" (End unintentional shameless self-promotion) So yeah. Kinda like that. I'm eager to hear what snappy one liners you guys come up with. There's really endless possibilities with it. (Working together, what your oc says after winning with a certain amount of health, rivals etc.) So uhhhh, yeah. Have fun! You can even add music for the setting of the fight or even your own characters VS. Theme if you want to. It's all in good fun.😁 Actually, making your own levels within the world of Valucre for everyone to fight in would be pretty cool. Express yourself. I know I will. HELL'S GATE - DR. MONROES MANSION THEME HELL'S GATE - THE WEARY ORC THEME HELL'S GATE - MIKEY'S TRAINING FACILITY THEME VS. MIKEY (OC) THEME BLAURG MOUNTAINS VS. AKUMA 😄 (or some other evil fighter from the world of Valucre who's presence saturates the air with death) ROSTER: ZACK SOM CHARLIE MAL TRACEY BOSS CHARACTERS: MIKEY
  5. zackrobbman

    The Blasted Badlands

    Zack opened his eyes to discover that he was no longer sitting by a rock in the desert wondering if he was going to die of dehydration, poison, or the lands not-so-friendly inhabitants. No, where he was standing now was nearly the polar opposite. Lush, green, perfect grass covered the ground in every direction. Beautiful trees dotted the land as a gentle breeze caressed and billowed the leaves, making the vibrant sunlight dance through the foliage. Some of the trees yielded fresh figs that looked to be bursting with flavor like he'd never tasted. Through the trees ahead of him he could see a stream of water whose sound only added to the peaceful feeling the are gave out. Off in the distance passed the grassy hills and forest, he could see mountains lush with life and even more streams of water. Yes, it truly looked like a paradise. "Aw, man." said Zack, sliding his hands down his face. "I died! Did I die in my sleep?! Awwwww, maaaaaan. Tracey's gonna freak when she finds out." "You ain't dead, ***hole." Zack turned around to see a man rolling up to him in wheelchair. His legs ended in stumps passed his knees and there medical machinery all over him, most of it running tubes in and out of his stomach. Zack squinted and put a hand to his chin in thought. He looked familiar. In fact, just looking at his face made him want to laugh heartily. He was about to ask what happened to his legs when he suddenly remembered. "HA!" Zack shouted, beginning to laugh even harder. "**** YOU!" shouted the man with as much rage as he could muster, slamming his fist down on the arms his wheelchair. "You sick, cruel, demented, piece of s***!" "Man," said Zack, calming down and wiping a tear from his eye. "Even in the after-life, they still couldn't get your legs out of your butt! Did NOT expect to see you here." "Why not?" asked the man, confused. "Cause this is heaven right?" said Zack, a smile still on his face. "Or wherever we go when we die. I don't think the bible actually teaches that ALL good people go to heaven." "Heaven?" laughed the man. "Retard, you ain't in heaven." "URRNSSH!" Zack spotted a second guy materialize in a flash of light behind the man in the wheelchair. This man was well built and standing at nearly seven feet, but he was missing his lower jaw. "Underbite!" shouted Zack with a smile, making the jawless man's eye twitch in anger as he attempted to scowl. "Ya'know, I think I still have your jaw somewhere in my room." "HUUURRNNHYUOOOO!" "It's good to see you too!" rebutted Zack with another laugh. "Although I'm not sure why you both wound up in heaven." "This isn't heaven." said the man in the wheel-chair, his voice growing dark with malice and hatred as dozens of people Zack had severely crippled and beaten within an inch of their life materialized far off into the horizon. "This is hell!" Zack's smile fell as he stared out at the myriads of outlaws giving him the stink-eye, many of them holding weapons such as knives, bats, or HG Atomizer rifles with a magitech core. As he looked at their various injuries, his mind began to recall how he'd met each one of them and why. Some of them were rapist. Some of them were genocidal murders. Some of them enslaved children and raised them up to become genocidal murder-machines that raped man and woman alike. Zack hated them with an other-worldly passion, wishing for them all to suffer for all eternity and get what they deserved. Most of them had been rotting away behind bars for their crimes, Zack sometimes bothered by the fact that he couldn't make them suffer more. Prisons weren't too keen on letting Zack stop by for a visit, especially the ones in Hells Gate. "Hell?" he said, his eyes dilating as he formed an unstable, murderous expression. He scanned the crowds for any lawmen, but couldn't see any. "Oh, no I think you've got it all wrong." He began walking towards the man in the wheelchair as he cracked his knuckles and got the kinks out of his neck. Both he and the man without a jaw's faces began to soften from rage into one of fear as they started to back away. They stared at him, trying to think of something that mirrored the pure insanity and hatred in Zack's eyes. They could think of none. "Way I see it," said Zack, staring hard at the guy in the wheelchair. "If this really is the after life, you can't die. That means I can do whatever I want without actually killing anyone." "NURRRLGH!" cried the jawless man as he turned and ran. "So this isn't hell for me." said Zack, now standing less than a foot away from the man in the wheelchair. "This is hell for YOU!" Zack reached over and grabbed one of the large machines connected to the man's stomach before tearing it out in a spray of blood and intestines. The man screamed loudly in complete and utter pain as he watched his innards get thrown high into the sky behind Zack. The myriads of outlaws behind the man realized the severity of their situation and began to run away, pushing each other to the ground and fall in the process. "THATS RIGHT, RUUUNNN!" shouted Zack loudly with a smile as he held the man's liver high above his head. "Run! Cause you ALL are gonna be runnin' FOREVER!!!" "STOP!" came a loud, thunderous, yet fluid and gentle voice from above. Confused, Zack looked up to see the clouds swivel and open up to reveal the murky visage of a girls face. Dropping the man's liver and punching in his face to stop him from screaming so loudly, Zack squinted. He recognized her and the angry, disappointed look on her face. Or did he? Her features were blurry, but he just couldn't pin down who she was. Only who she looked like. "T...Tracey?" said Zack, his eyes opening slowly as he began to regain consciousness. The world was hazy and shifting as if it were made of liquid. He began to feel his bruises and cuts along with a sickening feeling in his stomach. His cheeks bulged with bile and he raised a hand to cover his mouth. It was at this time that he became acutely aware that he was floating high above the ground, a flapping noise echoing out into the wasteland near him. turning his head and looking up, he sees the face of a girl. He notices two things. That she's carrying him, and that she's not human. Usually in this scenario, he'd assume some creature had picked him up and was proceeding to take him away to feed him to its family, but he wanted make sure before he pushed off of her and fell the seventy feet back to the cracked, barren, and parched earth. So, hurling the vomit and poison out to the side of him and wiping his mouth, he spoke. "You gonna eat me?" he asked, a sickly expression on his face.
  6. zackrobbman

    InFAMOUS - Zero Year

    @danzilla3 @Trevor Wisegem - ALEX - REMI The old man had figured he'd get a response like that. It revealed to him a few things. One, this guy wasn't afraid or ashamed to admit the wrongs he'd done. Whether he felt bad about them or found pride in his reputation, he wasn't sure. The second thing was confirmed by what he said next He knew that the old man was a conduit and by the looks of things, wasn't even afraid to get in a scuffle with him. Spark was old, yes. But being an old conduit that had been being hunted for years usually made something obvious. He was good. Not just any conduit could survive for as long as he did, something he'd been made painfully aware of as he watched them die in front of him over the years. It took skill, tedious planning, patience, and stubbornness that rivaled a honey-badger. The fact that this guy would even suggest a fight with him meant he was either fearless or stupid. Sometimes they went hand in hand, but they always made people more dangerous than they already were. "I didn't take you for a man that believes everything he sees on the news." said Spark, ready to act if things went south. "If you did, you wouldn't be threatening me, son." The old man picked up the sound of men shouting off in the distance. The DUP's comms and tech would be down for a while, but it was only a matter of time before they were found. They needed to keep moving or they'd wind up in another death trap. "You're being hunted, just like me." said the old man. "We fight, they win. How's about a team-up? We can get to know each other afterwards." As spark was speaking, he was sending out kinetic pulses to scan the area for hostiles. He picked up many men in the distance, but it'd be a while before they reached them. What he didn't pick up however, was pulse of the cloaked soldiers behind him. They appeared invisible to the naked eye, their suits designed to render them invisible to keep the old man from sensing them. They moved silently as they approached him, all of them carrying razor sharp, carbon blades. He didn't notice them behind him, but he did notice when the air behind Remi shimmered erratically, showing the faint visage of a man with his blade raised. "MOVE!" shouted the old man, lounging forward and shooting a bolt of lightning at the shimmering soldier. It hit cleanly with a bright spark, blasting the soldier back into a few other cloaked soldiers. The soldier's cloak malfunctioned, showing what looked like some kind of ninja with light-armor. The stealth agent quickly recovered before lunging at Remi with its blade drawn. The old man used a kinetic blast to launch himself upward and avoid a fatal stab through his head, knowing that these stealth operatives wouldn't just attack one of them and leave themselves exposed to the other. A knife was hurled up towards him shortly after, embedding itself in the back of his thigh. "SONUVAB****!" shouted the old man through gritted teeth before using another kinetic blast to propel himself onto a roof. He ducked another blade that was hurled at him, the movement of the attacker making his cloak briefly disengage. He began shooting bolts of lightning towards them. The soldiers avoided it with seeming ease, but the proximity to each blast when it hit the ground would glitch their cloak, making air where they stood begin to shimmer. He saw shimmers running up the building towards him and blasted them away with few well aimed bolts. Although they were knocked to the ground and the impact again made their cloaks glitch, they'd recover quickly, as if uninjured. Either their suits granted impact resistance from great falls and electricity, or those rumors he'd heard about Dr. York's secret human experiments were true. He leaned towards the latter because of how fast they were moving. He heard one of them draw a pistol and backed away from the ledge of the roof before a barrage of bullets shredded it. "Dammit!" he growled, aware that the barrage was only done to cover their ascent. "EVERYONE OFF THE GROUND!" he shouted as he blinked away in an arc of lightning. "MOVE!" He began thinking fast. They'd perish if they tried to fight them without a sight to them. Impacts, quick movements, and electricity seemed to glitch their cloaks just enough to see the shimmer of their form. If they'd survive this, they'd need to make them as predictable as possible. Maybe they could bait them into a position where they could be attacked.
  7. zackrobbman

    InFAMOUS - Zero Year

    @Kingofgames12 - LEO Chris could see that Leo was offended just by looking into his eyes. It wasn't every day that you learned that a dog was smarter than you, but Chris still didn't understand why he was so taken aback. Did he pride himself on his knowledge and smarts? Did he think brains decided what you amounted to in life? Or had he just been trying really hard to be the biggest nerd in school and this felt like a kick in the balls? The thought amused Chris, but he doubted it. The smartest people tended to be very hoity-toity, not the type to give money to a beggar or avoid murdering a bunch of thugs in a fight. He would know. He'd had the grand opportunity to bunk with a scientist for a few years of his life. To Dr. York, (PHD) human life was beneath him. Except his own of course. People tend to believe whatever makes them feel better. He eventually seemed to accept the idea of a dog being smarter than him when he finally addressed K. The plan for a city-wide rebellion however, he did not seem to take too well. Not because it sounded stupid, although it did, but because he had his own plan. "Brooke Augustine..." said Chris with a distant look. "I used to idolize her as a kid. The schools made her out as some kind of crazed villain, but I always saw her as a hero. It's part of the reason I got kicked out of school and put into manual labor. I used to think she was gonna eventually come out of hiding and...save us or something." Chris's smile didn't falter, but his eyes fell grim and glazed. "Boy was that a mistake." he chuckled. "The time I wasted waiting for that old lady to grow her spine back could've been spent working out my own plan or saving lives. But nope! I...sat there and waited for a hero to come and save me and it COST me. Big time." Chris sighed through his nose and blinked before looking down at Leo. "Look, I know she used to be the hot stuff back in the day, but those days are over. She's sat idly by and let the world burn, probably depressed that her efforts had a set-back. Finding her wouldn't solve anything simply because we shouldn't have to. A hero doesn't wait for someone's life to be in danger before they act. They seek to prevent it. Which she hasn't." K's ears perked up, catching the faint sound of leather striking the cracked, pebble riddled streets of the slums. He could also hear the jingling of chains and swishing sound of someone doing tricks with a knife. "Plus," continued Chris. "Even if she suddenly grew a spine IF we ever found her, there's still the glaring issue of getting out of this city without being strung up by the DUP. It's on lock-down. You're not getting out of here until we destabilize their forces and get the lockdown removed." He felt K' nudge his leg and looked down to see the canine flapping his ear up and down. "A lot?" asked Chris, to which K' merely nodded. "We'll have to continue this discussion later. We gotta get off the streets. The punks are out in force tonight." Chris looked around the alley before setting his eyes on a black, metal, staircase on the side of one of the buildings. Using a nearby dumpster that was overflowing with possibly year-old trash, he jumped up and grabbed the rung of a latter hanging off the staircase before pulling himself up. He then hopped off the railing to the railing on the next level of the staircase before looking down. "We're gonna take the rooftops." said Chris before pulling himself up and jumping to the next railing above him. "It's what the superheroes in the comics usually do right?" In a flash of light that briefly lit up the alley, K was gone. In a similar flash, he reappeared on the roof of the building Chris was climbing, looking left and right to make sure the coast was clear. The buildings in the slums weren't as tall or stable as the ones in the city, so they'd still have to be stealthy to avoid being heard from the ground. The thugs were getting closer now, K' hearing the familiar sound jingling bullets and someone jamming a clip into a rifle. They were armed like they were expecting a big fight. Or a conduit. "We're gonna head to my hang out." whispered Chris, now on the roof with K. "It's about two miles away, so I hope you're good at free-climbing with that new found strength."
  8. zackrobbman

    The Blasted Badlands

    "...Water..." mumbled Zack incoherently as he trudged through the sand, his clothes drenched with blood and sweat. The sun beat down on his weary form like an unforgiving and all-judging being hell bent on making him pay for some of the messed up things he'd been a part of. He looked up at it ans shielded his eyes, giving it a bitter, defiant look. He'd never wanted to break the suns legs as bad as he did now. Days like this made him wonder if it really was a sentient being. It felt as though it's rays were all being concentrated on him as much as possible. Heat normally didn't bother him, but he wasn't exactly in the best condition. He'd been walking for days. His feet were blistered beyond recognition and his throat really did feel like sand-paper. He tried his best to not think about food or water, but of course, that's not how starvation works. "Eughh." he grunted, feeling as though he'd throw up for the seventh time. His stomach churned as the poison tried to work its way through his body. He was no medical professor, but he could tell the poison was trying to paralyze him. It probably would have had his body not been what it was. It still put him in agony however, the familiar sensation of renal colic tempting a black out. As if been blown out of a warship after being shot and stabbed several times wasn't bad enough, the natural inhabitants of land tried to get a piece of him not too long after his painful landing. He'd been attacked by some crab-like thing after falling through a hole, been bitten by a large rat the size of a wolf, and chased by a swarm of giant bees that managed to sting him a few times. He felt like death. As if to make things worse, his mind was slowly eroding. He could swear he kept seeing the same cactus far off in the distance behind him, changing positions and keeping up with him. He even thought he'd seen it move a few times. Was it getting closer? He wanted to use his shield and hold it above his head to block the sunlight, but he'd thrown it at a guy while he was still on the warship and it was likely still there. Maybe even still embedded in the guys kneecaps. "He....he...." he laughed, barely having the strength to do even that. Normally he could have the shield return to him with a simple hand gesture, but it wouldn't come back no matter how many times he tried, and he'd been trying for days. He kept looking behind him into the horizon, hoping to see it spiraling back towards him from the distance, but of course he had no such luck. In fact, I'd say he and luck were bitter enemies. "Man...how big is this place?" he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. In every direction, he kept seeing the same thing. Mountains and sand with the occasional rock poking out. Deciding that he'd need a bit more rest if he was going to somehow get out of the desert and back on the track of mark he'd been sent to capture, he walked over to one of the taller rocks jutting out of the sand. It casted just a large enough shadow for him to take refuge under. He hadn't slept since the fall, and he needed to heal. Maybe with a little rest, the poison would work itself out of his system and he'd be back to his usual self when he woke up. Maybe if he slept enough, his broken ribs would mend too. It usually took a day or two of rest for them to fully mend, but he'd be happy with any improvements at this rate. "Just gonna lie down." he breathed before sitting down with his back against the rock and closing his eyes. He still didn't want to sleep because he knew there were murderous freaks of nature prowling the desert, but he wasn't exactly a deep sleeper.
  9. zackrobbman

    The Maid

    Silas opened eyes, air filling his once dead lungs as he gasped for breath. He lay there looking up at gray, moody, sky with air that tasted of decay and age. His eyes darted around in every direction, dilapidated buildings covered in plant overgrowth in every direction he looked. He sat up and turned his head to get a better look around him, trying to find out how he'd gotten here. The last thing he remembered was shouting for James to get down before a barrage of bullets pelted him from all sides. He remembered the feeling of blood leaving his body and leaving him weak, the feeling in his extremities ceasing as his heart gave out. Yes, he'd felt that plenty of times. As the familiarity with death slowly came back to him as he recalled all the times he'd been "killed", so did his memories of the place he was in. "Back again?" Silas's head swiveled as he tried to find the one that had spoken, the voice sounding almost exactly the same as his. The tone was slow and practically dripping with malice, seemingly coming from everywhere at once. Getting to his feet quickly, he balled his fist and continued to search for the one that had spoken. "Come out!" shouted Silas, his anger echoing throughout the ruined settlement. Silas waited, teeth gritted and ready for a fight. He knew where he was, and he knew who was watching him. It was always watching, always whispering in his ear when no ones else was around, always telling him to let go. A figure walked out from behind a building, its gait slow and fearless. The lifeless fog that covered the town made it difficult to make out the newcomers features, but as it drew closer, Silas became well aware of what he was looking at. "Why do you believe there is a separate entity?" asked the thing that stood in front of him. It's black, unkempt hair, it's effortlessly muscular build, the vest and tie worn over the button-down dress shirt covering it's chest...all of it resembled Silas in every way. An exact copy. The only thing making it possible to tell the two apart were the eyes. Sila's eyes were normal by human standards, although strained and down-trodden. The copy's eyes, however, were nothing like his. Only pitch black holes stared back at Silas, mirroring the blank, dead eye sockets of a skull. Looking into them, Silas could feel nothing but death and decay that wished to spread to everything around him. There was no life within what stood before him. It's existence alone was a testament to death and its voracious, insatiable appetite. "We are not one." said silas, knowing that he might as well have been speaking to essence of nothingness. "You are an intruder." "I am?" said it, it's expression completely devoid of any passion. "You fool yourself, boy." Silas began to hear a faint rumbling somewhere off in the distance, the skies lifeless grey beginning to form tints of red. But he didn't look away from the being before him. He stared it in its eyes, not willing to back down. It felt as though he were trying to stare down a god, but Silas didn't fancy himself a quitter, even when he knew he'd lose. "You wish." said Silas, a steady wind beginning to blow passed him and unsettle the dust and ashes of the town. Skeletal limbs that littered the streets rolled back and forth, the jaw-bone of every skull open and afraid. "I've beaten you before." "Consistency." said it. "Consistency will always determine who has won. It is not a matter of who wins the battle or the war, but rather how long they can keep winning that war." The wind blowing through town intensified, weakened or hanging pieces of the buildings around them coming loose and being sent flailing through the wind. Silas could feel his eyes beginning to water as wind blew into them, but he did not blink. He refused to show weakness. "If your enemy is still a threat," continued the hollow Silas. "If your enemy keeps coming at you, if your enemy does not STAY down, then you have failed." "Then I guess we're BOTH failures!" said Silas, having to shout over the wind that was now whipping against him. They sky was now a radiant red, an evil coming along to fill what was once empty. "I am immortal." it said. "I do not not tire and lose strength over time. I only grow stronger." Silas was now desperately trying to hold his footing against the stormy wind, the buildings on either side of him beginning to crumble and blow away. His shoes skidded against the barren road as he felt himself being pushed back, using his arm to shield his burning eyes. It did not seem to be affected by the wind. It's clothes didn't even billow in the wind, remaining as perfectly still as the rest of him. Silas began to see a red blur rushing towards them from behind this other him. He smelled something familiar. "You?" said the corpse. "You are human. By definition, you are limited. You lack the strength to win a battle forever. Your body and your resolve will eventually crack, splinter, and crumble away." "So I fight until I die!" shouted Silas, his voice completely unheard over all the chaos. The scent he caught was getting stronger as the red blur drew closer. It was wild and free-forming, like an oncoming tsunami. A red one that smelled like Elizabeth. "But I can not die." said it. "Only you can." Silas began to feel himself being taken off of his feet as he stared at his hollow self. The scent of Elizabeth's blood was overwhelming now, the tidal wave of her blood rushing at them like a wild animal. Despite his surroundings and his inevitable defeat, he stared hard into the eyes of this other him. Common sense beckoned that he should run, but what good was running from an enemy that always knew where you were? He heard sobbing behind him. He turned his head without thinking twice about losing the battle and saw a little girl, kneeling in a puddle of blood. Around her were the freshly mauled body parts of a man and woman. Her sobs echoed louder than the tidal wave of blood, filling the area like a blaring alarm in a large cave. His determined glare turning into concerned fear, he turned and lunged toward the girl right before the tidal wave hit, shielding her from the force. James lifted Elizabeth's wrist from Silas's mouth, fearful that he might wake up and decide to to take a bigger bite. He was saddned by his actions, but now wasn't the time to reflect. "C'mon!" said James as pulled Elizabeth with him. "We gotta leave the room!" He was certain she was angry with him and confused, but he didn't want to risk being in the same room when Silas woke up. Also, based on how loud the gunfire had gotten, the attackers were closing in. They knew where he was and were planning to overwhelm him up close. Both his arm and leg were shot, so his chances of successfully fending off such an attack were fatally low. His concerns were solidified when he spotted a man run up to one of the kitchen windows as he and elizabeth tried to leave the room. The man spotted them, but that was all he had time to do before James blew his brains out the back of his head with a shockingly fast quick-draw from the hip. "S***!" shouted one of the attackers. "Told his dumb a** not to go for it without us!" "One less pocket to fill." said Richard, the sound of his voice making James grit his teeth as they left the kitchen and entered the living room. "Now...TOGETHER!" James quickened his pace as he heard footsteps rapidly approaching the building from outside the kitchen. "Keep quiet." said James in a hushed, calm tone as he led Elizabeth up the stairs, careful to avoid the creaking ones. Richard smiled as he watched his men close in on the kitchen. Even James Redding couldn't defend against an instantaneous assault from multiple angles at the same time. A few would bust through the door, and a few others would bust through the front entrance. He'd been inside the estate enough times to know that the front entrance opened up into the living room, which you could use to get to the kitchen and dining room the moment you were inside. James was known for being fast, but the difference between tonight and all his other escapades was that he was the one being caught off guard this time. He was the one without the element of surprise. He was the one without the plan. One his men were where they were supposed to be, they looked at Richard and waited for his signal. He sliced his hand downwards quickly and they nodded before aiming their guns at the locks of their respective doors and blowing them off. Kicking each door open, the open fired into the kitchen, half expecting to take a bullet themselves. But they didn't, and none of their shots hit their mark. James was nowhere to be seen. They immediately began looking around, figuring that he must have left the room somehow. The only person in the kitchen was Silas, filled with lead and dead. Stepping over him, the attackers slowly made their way through the kitchen to meet up with the ones in the living room. One of them, a man named Bernie, was the main man Richard hired to help him take over the estate. He was the one that found all the other bandits and misfits before getting them together. Richard had only offered him twenty percent of the potential earnings, but he had other reasons for accepting the job. Bernie was maybe 17 when James Redding killed his brother in a gunfight. Once he was certain the kitchen was empty, he pointed at the men in the foyer and motioned for them to check out the dining room. He and the guy with him would head upstairs, certain that James was just trying to hide and buy time. They all moved slowly through the state, being ready to take cover the moment they saw James. Bernie had told them all that he was far too quick-handed shoot at first glance. If they wanted to survive and take him down, they needed to work together by taking cover and pin-pointing his location to one another. Then they could flank him and that'd be it. Bernie and the man with him were maybe half-way up the stairs when they heard the scream. It was short, and abruptly cut off by the sound of something liquid trickling onto the floor. It had come from back down the stairs in the dining room, and it didn't sound like James. Bernie's face contorted into confusion as he and his plus one turned around and aimed their guns toward the entrance of the dining room. He was certain the James would get to higher ground by going up a few floors. It didn't make sense for him to be downstairs where he could be easily surrounded. As they slowly descended the stairs, Bernie got a sudden bad feeling, as if he'd messed up big time. It was the same feeling he got the first time he and his brother had encountered James. It was the same feeling that made him run when The Red Death blew a hole clean through his brothers lower left chest. He ignored this feeling, still angry with himself for running away all those years ago. He wouldn't run this time, and he was ok with whatever outcome that caused. That didn't make the feeling go away though. As they lined up on the wall just outside the dining room, Bernie steadied his nerves and steeled his resolve. He was looking in front of him with his back to the wall as he did this, looking into the kitchen on the other side of the foyer. He felt a chill run up his spine and he went rigid. Lord Grimheardt's body had been lying on the kitchen floor in a puddle of blood when they walked in. Now the body was gone. "HAGH!" Bernie almost jumped out of his skin when he saw the hand erupt from his lackeys chest, scattering droplets of blood everywhere. Bernie stood frozen in place as he looked down at the hand, a clumped of meat he assumed to be his lackey's heart tightly gripped in its fingers. Both their backs had been to the wall, meaning that this hand must have also busted through it to do this. His mouth agape and his hands shaking, Bernie's eyes slowly traveled up to the mans face, a look of surprise and horror plastered on it as he coughed out a glob of blood. Suddenly, the hand squeezed into a fist, crushing the heart in a spray of blood before retreating back through the man's abdomen and leaving the gaping hole. The man jerked forward in desperation as he felt the life leave his body, an unbelieving, scared expression adorning his rugged features as he looked down at himself. Bernie saw the hole in the wall the hand had busted through, fresh blood glistening and dripping down from it. He could swear he heard chewing, crunching noises coming from behind it. Mustering more courage than he'd ever had in his life, he leaned forward to look through the hole. He felt the sudden urge throw up his last meal as he looked at the sprawled and mangled bodies of the men he'd seen inside. Something had torn them to pieces, only half a leg still attached to the torso of one of the corpses. Bernie was frozen, all the courage he had left now gone. He didn't even notice that the chewing noises had stopped, and he didn't have the strength to move when a red, sinister eye peeked through the hole back at him. Richard lit another cigarette as he watched Bernie and his men entire the estate, certain that he'd already won. After they came back out with James Redding's head and a bunch of tied of maids he'd use for his amusement later on, he'd pillage the estate and find Lord Grimheart's money. He'd tried doing business the low-profile way, but in his experience, high-profile was where the big payouts happened. He had plans, he had dreams, he had goals. He couldn't afford to wait things out with the little money Silas was giving him for the blood. Eventually he'd get caught and that would attract unwanted attention from the authorities. It was time to speed things up get the payout he felt he'd deserved. As he took a long puff from his cigarette, he thought about the blonde woman that had been putting pressure on him. He'd have to find a way to make sure she knew nothing about this. If she ever caught wind that he had something to do with the death of Silas Grimheardt, she'd easily come to the conclusion that he'd also gotten his hands on his money. She'd ask for a cut, and Richard would refuse to pay before putting a bullet in her once and for all. He'd have to use the cash to leave the estate and find another spot to settle down until he could figure out what to do with the money. Maybe he'd start a business using the maids he'd kidnap. He'd spend a few thousand getting them all dolled up and trained to be dancers. They'd go abroad and he'd expand his services, maybe running a little prostitution ring while he was at it. Big leagues would pay anything to have a long night with a woman that was famous and far out of theirs. But not him of course. He'd get his services for free. His thoughts ceased when he heard a scream from within the estate. It didn't sound like James, but he didn't really care. Every man Red killed meant one less person to account for when it came to payday, making him a little richer. He also generally didn't like any of the men he hired. He could tell how low-class and unprofessional they were just by looking at what they wore and smoked. First impressions meant everything in this business and if you weren't willing to pay for it, you deserved to be sent to your death by the richer man. A peculiar sound came from within the estate, loud enough not to be completely muffled by the walls but strange enough to catch his attention once again. It sounded like plaster and wood-work being broken. Richard raised an eyebrow. If you were going to bust down a door and make that much noise, would it not be more beneficial to use your gun to blow off the lock? "All this noise but no gunfire?" "Maybe the old coot's throwin s*** at em'." said Richard, the light from his cigarette illuminating the bored look on his face. "Don't worry. They die, I'll just send YOU in right aft-" Another, loud, terrified scream rang out from the mansion, echoing through the trees and frightening the birds off of them. It was accompanied by gunfire that lit up one of the windows closest to the front door. Not too long after, the screaming stopped with a blood curdling gurgle followed by a large amount of blood being splattered all over the window. The cigarette in Richards mouth wilted as did his mouth. "What the f***!?" said one of the men as he stepped back a little. They all waited in silence, certain that none of the men sent inside would be coming out. Was this what James Redding was capable of? Richard went through the possibilities. He was certain that the gunfire and scream he heard had originated from Bernie. He'd heard multiple shots, something The Red Death was never known for needing. One shot, one kill was practically his way of life. But if Bernie was the only one firing, how did he die? Had Red come up on him with a knife? A crash was heard on the side of the estate opposite Richard, like a wrecking ball plowing through a wall at top speed. The gunfire that followed lit up the forest and Richard heard his mean curse and scream in shock. He couldn't see what was going on behind the estate, but based on the sounds, it as if some crazed animal was tearing his men limb from limb. This ideas was further cemented in his mind when he saw someone's freshly severed head get thrown out from behind the estate. "HELP!" shouted the man that came running passed the head, blood spewing out of the stump of his arm as he tried to hold his guts in with the other. "HELP MEEEE!" Richard began to back up as the men closest to him took aim in the injured mans direction. The gunfire on the other side of the estate had stopped, and Richard assumed it was because every man over there was very dead. Someone...something was out there with them, and he didn't want to be around when it reached him and the men closest to him. "THERE!" shouted one of the men as he pointed into the thicket from where the dying bandit was running. It was barely visible in the night, but he could see too, red, beady little eyes staring back at him. Seeing what he was talking about, the men open fired. Afraid of ending up like the man that was desperately running towards them, many of them didn't bother to check their aim. Bullets tore into the ravaged man as the others tried their best to hit whatever was looking at them. He fell, dead from several shots to his head before he hit the ground. The barrage continued until they all had to stop and reload, the flashes and smoke from their gunfire making it hard to see if the creature was still there. "Oh, man." said one of the younger outlaws, his hands shaking so much that he kept the bullets he was trying to load. He kneeled down to pick them up, the men around him spinning up their chambers and preparing to fire again. "IT'S GONE!" shouted one of the men as they all looked into the direction where the eyes had been. This made a tingle run up the young outlaws spine as he felt his heart beat even faster. He began to regret the choices that led him to this day. All of a sudden, finishing school and becoming a law-man didn't seem so bad to him. But it was too late now. He'd killed dozens trying to climb to success and now he was about to pay for it. As he scrambled to pick up his ammo, he looked up to see if the creature was coming. There was an outlaw standing in front of him, breathing hard through his mouth as he scanned the trees for the attacker. Then, with a wet sounding thud that sprayed blood everywhere, a black blur slammed into the man and he was gone. The young outlaw froze with fear as the men around him screamed and opened fire into the darkness. As he tried to get to his senses and load his colt once again, the screams changed from one of fear and desperation to those of agony and great pain. He could hear the thing tear them to pieces, the only thing making it possible to see the slaughter being the bright crackle of gunfire. What he saw looked impossible. during each instance of gunfire, he could see what looked like a man in bloody, formal attire. He was moving impossibly fast. Someone would fire their gun and the brief instance of light would show this formally dressed man lounge at one of them. Ripping and tearing sounds would follow after the flash, and when someone else fired their gun, it would illuminate the outlaw missing his head or part of it, several limbs, and sizeable chunks of his body as it fell to the floor in a mangled, lifeless heap. Each shot brought on another brief picture of the man brutally murdering the outlaws around him, immortalizing the massacre in his mind like a 3D photo-shoot. There was only one outlaw shooting now, each flash showing the tears streaming down his face as he screamed at the creature. "NO!" shouted the outlaw as be backed away, his shots hitting nothing and briefly illuminating the unrecognizable piles of meat that used to be his partners. The young outlaw was now shaking and in a fetal position, tears also streaming down his face as he waited for a painful, gruesome, death. It felt difficult for him to breathe. He could barely hear the dull clicking coming from the other outlaws gun. "Nonono..." yelped the outlaw through his sobs as he frantically reached into his pocket for more ammo. He was shaking so badly that he barely grab the single bullet that sat in his pocket. The moment he took it out, a hand that was slick with fresh blood grabbed his arm. The young outlaw heard cracks, snaps, and wet rip followed by the sounds of the liquid spewing and pattering against its surroundings. The outlaws screaming intensified as more tearing sounds could be heard behind the young outlaw. One final, loud, wet rip silenced the man's screams, liquid now gushing everywhere. The outlaw's upper half landed a few feet in front of the young outlaw with a wet thud, droplets of warm blood landing upon his arms and face. The dead outlaws face was drooping and blank, blood seeping out of his mouth and an empty eye-socket. The young outlaws gritted his teeth, trying not to scream as he cried even harder. He didn't want to die. Especially not like the man in front of him. But it was inevitable. A figure stepped in between him and the fresh corpse. The kid slowly, almost agonizingly, looked up. His mouth feel agape. A few swaying splotches of the moonlight that was filtering through the trees illuminated the mans blood-soaked clothes and face. It was hard to make out through the tears welling up in the boys eyes, but there was no mistaking it. Silas Grimheardt, the man he'd helped gun down when Richard gave the signal, looked down at him with eyes no longer human. They were blacker than the night sky, glowing, red dots locked onto the young outlaw. There was no anger, sadness, or excitement in them. Just a hungry animal dedicated to the kill. The young outlaw felt like his heart was going to give out. They'd killed him, and he'd come back as...something else. Now he was going to pay and there was no telling of how it would happen. Deciding that it would somehow make the experience less painful, he clenched his eyes shut and gritted his teeth in expectation of what was to come. The sounds of foot-steps could be heard in the distance and there was a whoosh of air that ruffled the boys hair. He held his breath, thinking this was it, but no pain came. He held his eyes shut for just a little longer before he cracked one open. Silas was gone, the only thing looking at him being the single, lifeless eye of the outlaw that had been yanked in half. Beyond the corpse, he spotted another outlaw running through the front entrance of the estate. He wanted to feel relieved that Silas or whatever he'd become was now gone, but he couldn't. He'd never feel safe again. So he remained there, curled up and catatonic. He didn't even have the courage to move. Richard didn't dare look behind him as he ran, the sound of gunshots and his men's spine-tingling screams cementing this notion. He heaved with each breath, spitting out his cigarette and trying to figure what the hell had happened. What was that thing in the woods? Some kind of monstrous guard dog? He'd been to the estate many times and couldn't remember seeing anything resembling a pet. He decided to think about it later. He spotted one of the cars he'd parked on the road just outside of Silas's property. There were seven others, but they wouldn't be getting used tonight. He slid over the hood as he took out his keys, jamming them into the car door with practiced ease. He swung the door open, noting that the gunfire and screams had come to a halt. "Always something." he murmured to himself as he turned the keys in the ignition. The engine of his first-class vehicle roared to life and he floored the gas pedal. As he sped down the dirt road leaving the estate and all his men to their fates, he thought about what he was going to do next. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot. Vernon slammed the door shut behind him, locking it with trembling hands that were slick with the blood of his gang. He didn't know why or how he was still alive and he knew even less of what attacked them. He couldn't remember seeing it, most likely because he ran the instant it tore off his right hand man's head. That was how he always survived. He was a firm believer of running away, knowing when to leave the table. This was definitely one of those times. Richard had told him that this would be a cake walk. Even though The Red Death was here, he was outnumbered and he would be unaware of what was going to happen. He expected some problems, but nothing like this. He'd caught glimpses of what happened to his gang as he ran to hide behind a log. He'd never be able to get the images out of his head. Whatever this thing was, it was strong enough to tear through a hardy man like a potato chip and fast enough to dodge gunfire. He looked down at himself. His clothes and arms were stained with blood. He didn't even remember how it had all gotten there. There was just so much of it spewing around him, like sinister geysers trying to drown him. "Eugh!" he huffed as he tried to wipe the blood away, only being able to smear it. He backed away from the door as he did so, almost tripping over something. When he looked down, he almost hurled. There lie what remained of Bernie, one of his lieutenants. His head had been ripped off, his throat crushed and his spine still connected. Vernon covered his mouth as he began to see dots in vision. Short and simple, he wanted to get out of there. The idea of eating another meal, taking a nap on a breezy day, drinking a beer, shagging a prostitute in an alley...they all seemed so far away now. Impossibilities. He'd give anything. He'd kill anyone. He just wanted to get out of there.
  10. zackrobbman

    The Sadira Amar: Tea and Tavern

    "A human sheep hybrid fighting for the rights of all sheep?" Charlie said, wondering if he'd heard her correctly. He'd heard of Lycans fighting for the rights of wild dogs and wolves, but sheep? If anything, he was violating sheeps rights when he kidnapped them. Where would he even take them? A sheeps pen? That would be much less roomy. Charlie felt like saying that the guy was grade A crazy, but he got the feeling that Fye was completely fine with crazy and might get offended. When she grabbed him and attempted to drag him along, wanting him to help her with her search, the size difference between them made him look like a child being dragged away by a parent. To Charlie, it felt like the exact opposite. But he wasnt about to let that ruin some fun. "Alright." Charlie smiled as he started walking to keep pace with her. Something in his mind screamed that he should tell Zack, but he wasnt going to. He didnt need his permission. He could take care of himself. It was just some crazy guy with some magical doohickey. What was the worse that could happen. "Hope this guys in town though. I got business here." _________ "Great." said Zack, wishing he hadn't heard what he did. "Ya just GOTTA find some trouble to get into." While Zack hated Charlie for the constant pain he put him through, he could never feel at ease with him interacting with complete strangers. Especially ones like Fye. He hadn't seen her because he was in his room, but she sounded a little...off-kilter. Unhinged. Thrill-seeking. These were all ingredients for a person that got others killed or did it themselves. Charlie had such traits, so it didnt make him worry any less. And they were going after another crazy person who happened to be in possession of a powerful artifact? "Ah, shoot." said Zack, realizing it would be stupid if him NOT to go after them. He started to put his bloody, tattered clothing back on, but stopped. Charlie had lied to this girl about what happened near Yh'mi. If he left now and forced him to come back, she wouldn't be able to see how incompetent and stupid he was. But he waited for them to get into some trouble before intervening, he could let him pay for that lie. In fact, he wasnt going to move a muscle until Charlie radio'd him for help or sounded like he was going to die. "I can always appreciate a little payback." said Zack as he smiled and laid back down on his bed.
  11. zackrobbman

    Terrenus Bounty List [need bounty hunters!]

    Seems golden to me! I'll get back to ya tomorrow evening on ideas for a place and scenario. Gots some sleep that i'm gonna fail to catch up on.
  12. zackrobbman

    Terrenus Bounty List [need bounty hunters!]

    I'm all for it if you're ready.😁 I can imagine all the funny and dangerous outcomes of the hunt as I write this in the bathroom at work.
  13. Still awaiting your return pal!😁

  14. zackrobbman

    Terrenus Bounty List [need bounty hunters!]

    @supernal Alrighty, I read up on im' and I gotta say....Zack would absolutely hate to go after him. But thats what makes this interesting!😀 Not sure if you picked him at random, (or almost every character on the site is magically biased) but it would make for a fun little story. So...you're the one that assigns the bounties? I accept if ya' do. ALTHOUGH...it would be cool if i could wrap someone else into the story to help hunt this thing. It's not that i'm afraid of the guy, since he's VERY magical, nigh invincible, can shape-shift, and evil in every sense of the word, but (or also) I'm always looking for some comradery on the site. Maybe me and someone else writes out an adventure and my OC's get to say, "Yeah, I know that person! We almost got killed fighting this dark-magic, half-god. It was terrifying and I went boo-boo on myself!" or something along those lines. Numbers of hunters shouldn't affect the outcome of the story since it's a dice roll right? Does the dice roll happen at the beginning or during the thread to determine whether or not the bounty is caught? Do we get to decide when the roll happens? Actually, I'm just gonna let that Q' sit and re-read the first post since you more than likely explained it all there.
  15. zackrobbman

    Terrenus Bounty List [need bounty hunters!]

    Lol I was looking in the first post because I remember seeing it there in my computer, but my phone isnt showing the link.🤔 I'm gonna check im' out real quick.