Portal Breach: The Collision of Worlds :: v.4.0


    Hold Hard, Patience

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    Fear
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    Hold Hard, Patience

    Post by Fear on 7/11/2014, 00:09

    Time: Morning
    Date: June 6th, 0005



    This was all for a just cause, or so the Dark Judge kept reminding himself.

    From the lobster queen's shoppe a pair of diligent rotten feet walked, their leathery soles stepping upon all the finest refuse Portal City had to offer. Discarded pieces of sharp plastic, metal tacks, bird feces, used chewing gum; yes, truly the crème de la crème. The ghoul didn't mind it, nor could he feel it. Nevertheless, he vowed, Judge Fear was adding a severe lack of concern for the environment onto this city's ever-growing death certificate. How tempting it was to push the rosy-faced child not too far from him into oncoming traffic for even thinking of picking up discarded pocket change off the sidewalk. This constituted stealing, you see. And only budding criminals were foolish enough to steal.

    A sickly-green hand reached out to do the world a favour and twitched, fingers curling in hesitation. Alas, the ISOs... they would only send him to an early containment and, from what he heard, there was no current method of escaping them. You win this time around, Little Jimmy #1,985,224,647,338. Next year you won't be so lucky...

    City Noise - what an odd place. An establishment that proclaimed itself a caterer of music to all tastes, it was a seedy-looking building complete with iron-wrought bars guarding the front and posters of dubious musicians upon its windows. These "false idols" were slaves to both the needle and the bottle, undoubtedly. For a moment the Dark Judge shambled up to City Noise's storefront and examined one such banner, a colourful assortment of enticing words and shameless doctoring up. Who was Michael Jackson and why was he grabbing his crotch in such a lewd manner? Ugh, to think the youth of this generation let their brains go to mush as they swooned over these fictitious and obnoxious celebrity personalities. The ghoul dismissed his hand at the shop's distasteful advertisements and stooped to enter what he thought of as an emporium of malfeasance.

    Fitting that a certain green-scaled alien ran it.

    The interior was no less uplifting than its exterior; questionable choices in merchandise, non-regulatory lighting, flashy colours and decor... Not modest at all, and a buoyant little ditty was faintly playing throughout the store. Judge Fire would have razed this building to a cinder, bless him. But, seeing as how he could not destroy this iniquitous den and cite its owner with numerous coding infractions, the Dark Judge will simply have to make this visit brief. Any longer and he was going to become downright unpleasant. Not that he needed an excuse or reason to be so, of course.

    With a noisy crinkle the undead fiend set a plastic bag upon the boomerang counter, Judge Fear staring directly ahead with a vacant gaze. Three... Two... "Kev," rumbled a deep voice, windowpanes shaking. A nauseating smell filled the entire establishment, even upward into the second story. "Your ssstore isss riddled with an appalling count of property violationsss. I am afraid the sssentence isss death for having thisss many."

    Ah, if only...
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    Kev
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    Re: Hold Hard, Patience

    Post by Kev on 7/11/2014, 00:29

    Getting drunk was a bad idea. A really bad one, though luckily one that he'd barely remembered. After waking up in the Sanctuary, he'd cleaned himself up, he smelled of alcohol and of all things, rot, and gone on to the store. He'd opened the store, but rather than linger downstairs, he'd gone up to the break room and done his best impression of a dead body. Mainly, by lounging all across a purple couch. No one was going to come in this early, right? And if they did, he could hear them and take care of them, all that junk. But for now his eyes were hurting and his head was buzzing. Alcohol was a really bad idea... His eyes flickered to the stairs blankly. Sounded like noise. A bag, and a slight thud. Maybe someone was downstairs. "Ugh..." He should have called in, he really didn't want to pick himself up and move downstairs.

    Judge Fear wrote:"Kev, your ssstore isss riddled with an appalling count of property violationsss. I am afraid the sssentence isss death for having thisss many."

    Judge Fear's voice sounded, and there was a smell that had by now become familiar. "...Fear?" He pulled himself to his feet, somewhat unsteady. He pushed through the beaded curtain and down the stairs, walking out into the shop and staring at the Judge with slightly bloodshot eyes. "I wasn't...expecting to see you here today! Especially this early..." Maybe since he was dead, he couldn't get a hangover. Lucky. The alien shuffled his way to the counter and leaned on it primarily with his elbows, looking up at the Judge. "How can I help you? Here to get some british music I presume?" He noted the bag, but otherwise didn't seem to really notice it. Maybe it was a dead critter.


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    "I'm Kev, and I speak through the power of telepathy. It is represented by italics and the color code #33CC66."
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    Fear
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    Re: Hold Hard, Patience

    Post by Fear on 7/11/2014, 02:59

    Best impression of a dead body? With the right answer and a little bit of justice, that impression can be turned into a delightful reality.

    Down came Kev, and the alien carried with him a telling aroma: Alcoholism No.5, the latest in binge drinkers everywhere. Naturally the Dark Judge had the perfect response for the occasion. "You sssmell like the dead," he hissed. A bit of crypt humour or wishful thinking? Either way, Judge Fear was most decidedly not here to purchase anything from the mod era. The Beatles were simply out of the question entirely, as well. "I sssee you are working on the job while intoxicated. Another death sssentence to blemisssh your record, Kev. I hope you are proud of yourssself." Again the bag crinkled as the Dark Judge slid it forward, his motions rigid and quite out of place. "Loaded potato sssoup and a cup of water, fressshly-made. The latter isss good for mitigating the effectsss of a hangover." And a diligent Judge of the law would never be irresponsible enough with their liquor.

    An awkward pause, followed by yet another vacant stare. Was the ghoul experiencing a change of heart, perhaps tickled by the fluffy down of friendship? A creaky finger was directed at Kev and the ghoul further said, "Don't forget to choke and repay me for my kindnessss." No, don't suppose the Dark Judge even knew the meaning of the word at this point. Judge Fear abruptly turned with a flutter of his heavy cape and left, the general malaise following behind his ominous wake.

    What an odd, odd encounter... You don't suppose he could be up to something, do you?
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    Kev
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    Re: Hold Hard, Patience

    Post by Kev on 7/11/2014, 03:11

    "Still?" The alien looked down at himself and did his best impression of a grimace. Yikes. Guess he needed to wash up again. "Ah well, this entire place smells like dead now. I fit in." Kev's head tilted to the side for a moment before he shook it. "I'm not drunk, I'm just hungover! I wouldn't come to work drunk, that'd be terrible. Irresponsible...all of that." Another strike on his record, then? Guess his list of sins was getting to be very long, good thing he and Fear had their little understanding. Otherwise he'd be judged by now. Death threats were pretty much a norm with Judge Fear, and especially while hungover, it flew over his head for the most part.

    The bag was pushed forward, Kev blinking down at it and finally getting a rather nice aroma from it. Soup and water? The Judge had brought him...soup and water? Why? He leered down at the soup for a moment, opening the bowl and giving it a few curious sniffs. Maybe it was poisoned. Though it smelled rather tasty...and Fear wouldn't poison him without his consent to die. So if this wasn't a meal to kill him with...the alien looked back up at the Judge, sentimentality clear in his eyes. "Thank you."

    The Judge, however, was a lot more professional about it. Even reminding Kev that he ought to choke as payment for the gesture. "Can't really choke, but I'll try." And just like that, the mysterious Judge had left. Not a single cd purchased. He really had come just to drop off the soup and water. Kev grabbed the bag and carried it upstairs, sitting himself at the table to consume what he had been given. He really ought to ask him where he got the soup...it was really good! And the water was definitely helping his headache. Ugh, what he'd give to just bathe in some water for an hour...for now, the soup and water would suffice. Such a kindness really ought to be repaid.


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    "I'm Kev, and I speak through the power of telepathy. It is represented by italics and the color code #33CC66."

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    Re: Hold Hard, Patience

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