OOC: Continued from "Starting point for boy #77": http://s10.DEFUNCT_IF_LINK/SurvivalOfTheF...p?showtopic=107
IC: After roughly half an hour of travel, Alan and Adam arrived at the hospital. It seemed empty, but Alan knew he had heard gunshots near here back at the Lookout. "Move quietly but swiftly and get to that door. Remember to keep your head down." he told Adam as he crouched and went up to one of the walls.
Hospital encounter
Hospital encounter
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((Continued from: Starting Point for Boy #77))
Adam removed the Ballestair-Molina pistol from his jeans and crouched down. Shimmying over to the wall, he slowly made his way along the wall until he came to the door. He looked over at Alan, then took a second to examine his pistol. There was no discernable safety mechanism that would prevent him from firing, nor any sort of trigger locking device. Adam hefted the pistol and hoped against hope that he wouldn't have to use it. He nodded to Alan, and reached his hand over, knocking on the door with a loud bang three times.
"Hello? Anyone inside?"
Adam removed the Ballestair-Molina pistol from his jeans and crouched down. Shimmying over to the wall, he slowly made his way along the wall until he came to the door. He looked over at Alan, then took a second to examine his pistol. There was no discernable safety mechanism that would prevent him from firing, nor any sort of trigger locking device. Adam hefted the pistol and hoped against hope that he wouldn't have to use it. He nodded to Alan, and reached his hand over, knocking on the door with a loud bang three times.
"Hello? Anyone inside?"
"Didn't I say to be quiet?" Alan whispered. "Judging from the sounds we heard earlier, there's a playe rin there, with a shotgun. Do you want that in your face? Either way, there should be a back door, I'm going around to check." with that, Alan crouch-walked around the nearby corner to the back of the hospital, where he looked for another door.
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Adam silently cursed himself for his blunder. It wasn't that he was stupid, nor that he wasn't street smart. It's just that he wasn't used to running around with his life in danger every second. It then became very clear to Adam that to get away from the door might very well be a good idea. Quickly, he crept over to a nearby thicket that appeared to be obscured from view. Stepping over the bushes, he crouched down behind them, peering at the makeshift hospital building with an interested gaze, wondering what kind of trouble Alan would get himself into.
You should be around the other side, helping him.
The problem that he had, though was that Adam didn't know Alan all that well, and as such, didn't trust him completely. If you could even trust anyone completely at all, he didn't know. But Alan...struck him as kind of funny. As he watched the house, his nose crinkled. There was a rather awful smell that was coming from somewhere around his current position.
Is that...BO? Damn, I don't smell that bad...?
Adam's confused thoughts projected onto his face, that made an awfully perplexed expression appear on the young man's features. He looked down at his hockey jersey, and after taking a look around quickly, he gave both of his armpits a sniff. Nope, it wasn't him.
Then what could it be...?
Adam scratched his head, and then his gaze drifted back to the hospital, to see if anything was happening with Alan.
You should be around the other side, helping him.
The problem that he had, though was that Adam didn't know Alan all that well, and as such, didn't trust him completely. If you could even trust anyone completely at all, he didn't know. But Alan...struck him as kind of funny. As he watched the house, his nose crinkled. There was a rather awful smell that was coming from somewhere around his current position.
Is that...BO? Damn, I don't smell that bad...?
Adam's confused thoughts projected onto his face, that made an awfully perplexed expression appear on the young man's features. He looked down at his hockey jersey, and after taking a look around quickly, he gave both of his armpits a sniff. Nope, it wasn't him.
Then what could it be...?
Adam scratched his head, and then his gaze drifted back to the hospital, to see if anything was happening with Alan.
Alan didn't find a door at the back, though he saw one on the side as he was returning to the front. Slightly grinning at his find, he put his hand on the knob (OOC: Assuming the sid edoor has a knob. BIC:), but the door wouldn't open.
"It's locked? Strange."
"It's locked? Strange."
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((Continued from: At the Entrance))
Hawley was jolted from his light sleep at the sound of banging against the door of the hospital’s front door, he moving onto his knees somewhat as he crawled toward where the door lay. Running fingers lightly over the now cool surface of his weapon, two-toned eyes narrowing in malice on the door.
Lifting the gun somewhat, he moved to cock a new shell into the chamber, keeping his eyes on the door before resting back against the wall… eyes moving to the other door. How many where here this time? His blood was pumping again as he closed his eyes, breathing becoming rugged as he tried to fight off his bloodthirsty side from coming alive again.
But it slowly failed as eyes reopened, and a grin passed his features as he pointed the muzzle of the gun at the locked door. Faust’s heart was loudly pounding within his chest, as fingers were itching to pull the trigger of the gun. If he were lucky… he’d only have to wait a minute. To him it didn’t matter who was beyond that door, everyone was fair game to him now. Everyone…
‘And what once seemed black and white turns so many shades of gray.’
There’s was no longer a right and wrong to a person, he no longer had a ‘list’, he only had the sheer power of his weapon and the blood lust in his eyes as he watched the doorknob on the side door jiggle...
Hawley was jolted from his light sleep at the sound of banging against the door of the hospital’s front door, he moving onto his knees somewhat as he crawled toward where the door lay. Running fingers lightly over the now cool surface of his weapon, two-toned eyes narrowing in malice on the door.
Lifting the gun somewhat, he moved to cock a new shell into the chamber, keeping his eyes on the door before resting back against the wall… eyes moving to the other door. How many where here this time? His blood was pumping again as he closed his eyes, breathing becoming rugged as he tried to fight off his bloodthirsty side from coming alive again.
But it slowly failed as eyes reopened, and a grin passed his features as he pointed the muzzle of the gun at the locked door. Faust’s heart was loudly pounding within his chest, as fingers were itching to pull the trigger of the gun. If he were lucky… he’d only have to wait a minute. To him it didn’t matter who was beyond that door, everyone was fair game to him now. Everyone…
‘And what once seemed black and white turns so many shades of gray.’
There’s was no longer a right and wrong to a person, he no longer had a ‘list’, he only had the sheer power of his weapon and the blood lust in his eyes as he watched the doorknob on the side door jiggle...
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Alan continued to rattle the knob of the side door, frustration slowly taking him over. At first he thought of shouting at the person inside to let him in. But by the sound he had just heard that wasn't a good idea. Noting that the sound came from the front, Alan decided to use his brass knuckles for the first time, hitting the wooden door with a brass-covered fist, he made a hole large enough for a hand, then reached through and tried to take the lock off.
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Adam crouched in his thicket, watching Alan jiggle the doorknob. His eyes were chased away by a small flicker of movement he thought he saw through one of the hospital windows. Nervously, Adam rubbed his fingers over the inscriptions of his pistol. He watched as Alan plunged his fist through the door with a loud crack.
That might have been a mistake...
Adam felt almost compelled to run over to Alan and persuade him to leave the area, but like a pedestrian watching a flaming tanker, he couldn't help but stay right where he was, and watch.
And wonder...
...what the HELL is that smell?
That might have been a mistake...
Adam felt almost compelled to run over to Alan and persuade him to leave the area, but like a pedestrian watching a flaming tanker, he couldn't help but stay right where he was, and watch.
And wonder...
...what the HELL is that smell?
Smiling in satisfaction as he heard the "click" of a detached lock, Alan withdrew his hand and went to open it, until he saw someone standing right in fron of the door through the hole. He did not know who it was, but it was definitely the "shotgun player", as Alan had dubbed him. Going to the side of the door, Alan put his hand on the knob, prepared to throw it open and attack.
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(( ooc: >> Hen, yes I do wonder what that smell is... ))
His body gave a jump as he saw the hand break through the door, he moving slowly to push himself over to the door. Well whoever it was seemed intent on getting in, sighing somewhat he moved quickly and undid the lock himself, ripping the side door open and lifting his weapon to the face of whomever stood there. Hawley licking his lips without much thought to it as he looked over the person, trying to place the person with anyone he had seen at school.
“Something I can help you with?” He asked carefully, remembering the brass knuckles that had helped them break through the door. “And hands up, now…”
His body gave a jump as he saw the hand break through the door, he moving slowly to push himself over to the door. Well whoever it was seemed intent on getting in, sighing somewhat he moved quickly and undid the lock himself, ripping the side door open and lifting his weapon to the face of whomever stood there. Hawley licking his lips without much thought to it as he looked over the person, trying to place the person with anyone he had seen at school.
“Something I can help you with?” He asked carefully, remembering the brass knuckles that had helped them break through the door. “And hands up, now…”
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Alan made a clicking noise with his tounge as he shook his head. "Hawley, Hawley, Hawley, is that your idea of greeting an aquaintance? In case you don't remember, I'm Alan, from your social studies class. Well, you got a shotgun, but you're in range of my brass knuckles." the calm demeanor seemed to snap off as Alan swung a brass knuckled right hook at Hawley's head, hitting the shotgun to the side with his left.
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Hawley made a loud sound as he felt the metal of the weapon come in contact with his head, fingers coming up to grip at wounded area. As he could feel his weapon be knocked from his hands, the metal thudding against the doorframe as he pushed a foot down on it. Kicking it back within the house a foot or so away.
A low growl coming through as his hand moved from his head, to grasp the hacksaw on his belt. Bringing it forth, if anything… this was could some damage at the most if he had to; blood now clearly starting to seep through his hair and trail down his forehead as the moments passed. “Now, now… what do we have here? You’re idea doesn’t seem much better either.” He mused, grinning again as he pressed his hand to the trail of blood, looking over the blood-coated fingers before looking back to Alan.
A low growl coming through as his hand moved from his head, to grasp the hacksaw on his belt. Bringing it forth, if anything… this was could some damage at the most if he had to; blood now clearly starting to seep through his hair and trail down his forehead as the moments passed. “Now, now… what do we have here? You’re idea doesn’t seem much better either.” He mused, grinning again as he pressed his hand to the trail of blood, looking over the blood-coated fingers before looking back to Alan.
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OOC: It's safe to assume you attacked me with the hacksaw, correct?
IC: Alan stepped back to aviod the swing of the hacksaw as he advanced on Hawley. Stepping into the doorway, Alan threw a kick at Hawley's wounded head, mindful of the hacksaw Hawley had drawn.
IC: Alan stepped back to aviod the swing of the hacksaw as he advanced on Hawley. Stepping into the doorway, Alan threw a kick at Hawley's wounded head, mindful of the hacksaw Hawley had drawn.
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(( ooc: No, he didn't attack. Was just holding it up for protection. :3 ))
Hawley stepped back somewhat, his feet slipping out from under him as he stepped onto the shotgun. Painfully falling onto his backside, as inside of coming in contact with his head as he guessed it he was going for, and instead found his wounded leg... namely his swollen knee.
Biting down on his lip to hold back all sounds of pain that wanted to come though, he scrambled and pulled the shotgun into his hands once again. Pointing it up upward at Alan, arms shaking as the pain started to come through fully...
Hawley stepped back somewhat, his feet slipping out from under him as he stepped onto the shotgun. Painfully falling onto his backside, as inside of coming in contact with his head as he guessed it he was going for, and instead found his wounded leg... namely his swollen knee.
Biting down on his lip to hold back all sounds of pain that wanted to come though, he scrambled and pulled the shotgun into his hands once again. Pointing it up upward at Alan, arms shaking as the pain started to come through fully...
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"You can hardly hold that thing, can you? Either pain or fear is affecting your accuracy." Alan said as he stepped forward and into the hospital, so he could step slightly to the side and avoid a blast if Hawley tried to shoot.
OOC: Nice fight so far, wouldn't you say?
OOC: Nice fight so far, wouldn't you say?
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