Devil's Dance [S/Not Accepting/PG-16/Season 1]

[ListenToLife]

Desmond was barely noticed it seemed. The barely glanced Desmond's way as he downed a bottle of whiskey, acting like a stereotypical drunk. Had Desmond not just seen that assassination, he might've even over-looked this man. His gait, his face, his eyes. This was one expert liar. Very convincing. He was a killer under there somewhere; a cold killer. But it just wasn't seen. In all his many years, Desmond had seen few like this. He even grinned sincerely as Russel stumbled out of the alley.

By this time, Rockefeller had called all in the town to attention, bringing the air to a crisp halt. Excited cries and worried wimpers initially flooded the air, but it soon settled as Rockefeller called for attention, and for the murderer. Such a large man, such power he seemed to hold. And yet, his eyes were not those of an expert. They were angry and flustered, not cold and decisive. Merely a croney. But the town was still held under his spell. The happiness Desmond had noted as unusual when he entered the town was an illusion, he saw that now. A cover-up of the shadows that actually covered the town. Fear of fear governed these people now, and Rockefeller was playing the unwilling crowd well, it seemed.

But Russel was much better at plays, as was evident when he easily managed to fool Rockefeller. A quick blow by Rockefeller's pistol sealed the guise, and Russel's innocent drunk act was in full swing. Jericho was an obvious target. The woman had exited the bar not moments ago, making impossible for her to be the killer. But you'd be surprised how gullible people are when murder's afoot. Within moments of Russel's drunken wave, the crates were being fired upon. And wood being a bad barricade, the crates started to break apart quickly.

Desmond wasn't in any position to help her though. For Russel was obviously very good at the game, and had spotted a possible flaw in his plan. So, as any problem must, he aimed for it to be erased. With no blood on his hands as well. [b]"Dont make me have to tell you one more time, boy."[/b] echoed around in Desmond's head for a few moments, and a deep, gruff laugh erupted from his mouth; the bullet that had sailed over his head only moments before had no effect on him, not even a bat of an eyelid.

Desmond's left hand caught the Stetson with ease, his left hand held awkwardly behind his back for a moment as it drifted into his palm. He moved it infront of him, where he brushed of a bit of dust and placed it back on his head. "Who shoots a hat?" He asked, shaking his head slightly at the holes that now pervaded his lovely Stetson. He then lifted the rim of said Stetson with a thumb of his left hand, his cold, dead eyes staring deep into Rockefeller, causing him to recoil slightly. Big man, little mind.

"My good man, you appear to have the wrong man." Desmond started, a smile still playing upon his lips. "I have no weapon out, do I? And, well, you'd be best pointing the gun away." He chuckled again, lowering the rim of the Stetson back so it shadowed his eyes.
Rockefeller was having none of it. "You were here! You witnessed it! Last warn....ARGH!" He started, steadying his gun again. And another shot followed, though this was not of Rockefellers. Desmond's right hand, which had been moving his overcoat away from his holster slowly, had managed to draw his revolver and fire a shot at Rockefeller's foot, unnoticed. With Rockefeller now distracted, Desmond quickly disarmed him and knocked him to the ground, moving his vision to Russel stumbling towards the Town hall. He almost attempted to stop him, perhaps fire at him, but that wouldn't do. He seemed to have a plan, and Desmond wasn't his enemy at the moment.

So instead, he concentrated on Jericho. By now, the goons under Rockefeller had mostly turned their concentration towards Desmond, but he secured said concentration with another shot of his powerful gun, the sound of the revolver echoing like a rifle. "Now then, wanna leave the pretty lady alone? Or is your boss gonna get himself a third earhole?" Desmond asked, politely, aiming Rockefeller's own gun at him, while moving a few steps away from the giant so as to not be attacked suddenly.

[TotalObelisk]

Jericho watched through a gap in the grates as one of the group, apparently the leader, began to adress the crowd demanding the culprit show themselves or there will be severe consequences, yada yada. Jericho was only really half listening as she'd spotted the gunslinger she'd been following before out of the corner of her eye doding into an alleyway.

[b]"Small world,"[/b] she muttered under her breath.

Her attention returned to the scene when a man, apparently drunk, stumbled towards the group no doubt allured by the promise of coin for information, he was met with a pistol butt to the face. Jiricho stifled a snigger at this, peeking her head over the creates slightly to get a better view. This turned out to be a very bad idea as the drunk suddenly pointed in her direction and accused her of the killing. The shots were soon to follow, the first going clean over Jericho's head and the rest smacking into the crates as she ducked down for cover.

[b]"Uh...It wasn't me!"[/b] She yelled over the gunfire, though likely nobody could hear her.

Rolling her eyes she quickly got to her feet, bringing her rifle round in one hand and firing three quick shots that tore through the legs of the closest gunmen. Jericho's custom rifles didn't pack nearly as much punch as regular ones but they where far faster and able to be used one handed, that and they looked really pretty which was always a plus. She quickly ducked back behind her rapidly shrinking cover as they opened fire on her once again.

[b]"You guys are so off mah christmas list!"[/b] She yelled at them.

A moment later the shooting stopped, Jericho sat still for a moment, expecting them to open fire again, before popping her head up to see the gunman she'd follower earlier holding the head goon at gunpoint with another gun aimed at the goons aiming at Jericho.

[b]"Well, thanks fer the save, Ah guess,"[/b] she called over to him cheerfully [b]"I mean, this totally proves Ah'm innocent."[/b]

She returned her weapon to the holster on her back and kept an eye on the goons lest they try something despite their boss' less than enviable situation, one hand hovered around her hip though, ready to pull out her little secret if she needed a quick draw.

[Admiral_Stalfos19]

[color=#000000]Nova could only face-palm when she heard the response coming from Jericho's mouth. That was before she had left, leaving Nova in peace for quite some time. Still, it wasn't long before she felt like leaving. It was even [i]shorter[/i] before she discovered something was amiss in the town center, judging by the number of people running away from it.[/color]

[color=#000000]Then she sprung into action. Nova had made her way on top of a roof, before jumping over more roofs and scaling walls and all [i]that[/i] fun stuff that should only be seen in Assassin's Creed until she could overlook the situation as it unfolded. It appeared as though one guy was shot in the foot.[/color]

[color=#4b0082][i]'Hmm, tempting...'[/i][/color][color=#000000] Nova mused to herself, [/color][color=#4b0082][i]'[/i][b][i]Very[/i] [/b][i]tempting indeed. Nah, I better wait; I don't even know what side is what...'[/i][/color]

[color=#000000]It didn't stop her from gripping The Grandfather tightly, though.[/color]

[Raine]

[url="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AFtmdorQG-U&feature=related"]Music[/url]

[color=#800080]“20 foot foyer, whitewashed pine, studs spaced at 3 foot intervals,”[/color] he mumbled under his breath. Gaius had sat on the harsh metal bench in his iron pen, faint sounds of gunshots made his ear twitch. His head was hung, hands locked, [color=#800080]“4 way hall, left galley, right office with access to stairs, similar material to entrance, potential in desks and metallic cabinets.”[/color]

Gaius was taking calm slow breaths, [color=#800080]“Cell, 40 feet forward from hall divide, approach sheriff department 15 feet left, casual containment.”[/color] Gaius rose from his seat, inspecting the room. A guard stood in a defensive position with a rather ordinary rifle, he must be inexperienced due to the way he was holding his weapon and the fact he was absent of the combat outside. Gaius placed his palm over the lock of his jail, surprisingly it was high grade requiring a dedicated tool kit to pick it, the Stanton model XI if he wasn’t mistaken.

The guard took notice of his interest in the lock, aiming his weapon at him and yelling something through his stutter Gaius couldn’t quite understand but he retreated to his seat,[color=#800080] “Damn,” [/color]he mumbled.

Gaius reached into his boot with drawing a harmonica he had made difficult for his capturers to find since they were in hurry so didn’t do a fantastic job. [color=#800080]“You like music?”[/color] he said purposely loud enough for his guard to hear. The guard reacted confused before seeing it however before he could attempt to take it, [color=#800080]“Look, no harm I surrendered might as well-”[/color] The guard grabbed a night stick from the wall and slapped it out of his hands before he could finish.

Gaius let out a deep sigh, however it was then he heard the loudening sound of boots through the halls.

[Super Chaos Sonic]

The boot steps got closer and closer, until in front of Gaius, stood Job Wayne.

[spoiler=Job Wayne][IMG]http://i260.photobucket.com/albums/ii2/Uriah172000/extras/jin.jpg[/IMG][/spoiler]

His rifle laid behind him on his back, as he had a lit cigarette in his mouth. Smoke poured from his mouth, as he took the cigarette out of his mouth and tossed it on the floor, stepping on it quickly. [b]"So...your Gaius I presume. It's not normal for someone to just give up like this." [/b]he said, leaning up against the wall, glaring at Gaius through the cell. [b]"Why did you just surrender like that? What do you have to gain?"[/b]

=Tyson=

[color=#FF0000][i]Impressive Desmond... [/i][/color]Tyson thought, as he continued to just watch this. However things were still somewhat bad for Desmond and the girl Jericho. Rockefeller's men kept moving closer, their guns pointing at the pair. [color=#FF0000][i]Alright then...I guess I'll have to cross my fingers and hope for a miracle on this... [/i][/color]he thought as he grabbed Angelo and Diablo from their holsters, twirling them in his hand. Then he began to survey the area, still hiding in the alley.

[i][color=#FF0000]Alright...there is a bunch of barrels there in that cart. And on the other side is a sign on a chain. Shoot one end on that, it'll hit a couple of the gunmen...while the barrels would take care of the rest.[/color][/i]

Tyson's plan was figured...he just hoped he could make these shots. He fired a bullet from Angelo, which hit the cart. On impact, the barrels fell out and rolled down towards the gunmen, knocking them down. Then he quickly shot a round from Diablo and hit the second chain on the sign, which knocked down the last remaining gunmen. This gave Desmond and Jericho the chance to escape.

[color=#FF0000][i]Yes! Alright, now hopefully Desmond and that chick can get going before they get pissed.[/i][/color]

[Jake the Sage]

Russel’s ploy had worked perfectly. Rockefeller and his lawmen were attempting to arrest both Desmond and Jericho; however no plan is without a few hitches, as Tyson, watching from the alleys, was well aware the former was not a part of the murder. Then again Tyson was not in the position to do much- this of course was fortunate for Russel. Fate is funny like that. The one person, who could ruin the entire ploy, is powerless to act.

Russel had made his way into town hall. Empty and devoid of any human life, for they had ran outside to see the commotion then away to some place to protect themselves from the seemingly random gunshots, Russel had the entire place to himself. Perfect. Lifting the bottle of whiskey to his lips once more he found it was empty- smashing it against the wall in spite. Sighing he thought to himself, “Suppose I should get what I came here for.”

In a few minutes Russel was inside the mayor’s illegal merchandise room. Russel had figured a man like Job Wayne wouldn’t be able to sleep well at night if he had the slightest doubt over the security of such important merchandise; the best way then, was too put it in the same house he was living in. This not only ensured he knew every single person who had access to it, but made it easy to get to if he ever personally needed them. Russel knew all of this because it is the exact thing he would do if put in such a position of power . . . and was a slimy greedy little sh*t.

“Well hello beautiful~!” Russel said out loud, pulling up a picture of a nearly naked woman; he even whistled at it. Looking around he chuckled before rolling it up, stuffing it into his coat. A few seconds later Russel found something better to him than bullets or gold- Booze! Fine expensive whiskey . . . Russel quickly popped it and de-sobered, nearly downing half of it before he pulled it away from his mouth. Burping Russel stuffed a few more things of “importance” into his coat, pockets or even down his shoes and socks before heading to his main goal. Inside the mayor’s office he broke open the desk with the pick pocketed key he had gotten from Rockfeller. With the desk open he rustled through parchment after parchment trying to find anything about the Black Mambas current location or even where their base was. This didn’t mean he didn’t take a few documents he found interesting, basically anything that he could usefully make blackmail.

Looking over one piece of paper Russel stopped, lifting his head up. His drunkard senses were buzzing- that or he was already sobering up from the expensive whiskey. It was quiet. “Why the f*ck is it quiet already?” Russel thought stuffing the paper he was reading, coincidentally about the Devil’s Dealer, though he hadn’t read enough to know what it was about, into his coat and crept over to the window, “That lot should still be killing each other . . . don’t tell me that lass and the other guy were taken . . . ah . . . nope . . . he beat the big guy . . . impressive . . .”

Of course from his spot from the second floor window Russel could see the display everybody was making in full. The girl he had accused had taken one or two gunmen out, yet not managing to kill the lawmen. While Jericho had been proclaiming her innocents and picking off lawmen like clay pigeons, Desmond had been speaking with Rockefeller to explain that he had the wrong man: but Rockefeller had had none of it. Whatever had happened next ended up with the large lawman, standing a full head over Desmond, had a newly acquired hole in his foot and was now had his own gun aiming at his face.

Russel scowled, he wanted that man dead, but now he was shouting at the other officers; from where Russel was he couldn’t hear the words, only see the body language. Yet soon it was obvious what the man had said, taking a few steps away from Rockefeller so that the giant couldn’t get the drop on him. Every law official raised their hands, not wanting to endanger their leader in the slightest way. With Rockefeller wounded in the foot and his own gun pointed at him the man had complete control over the situation . . . as long as he kept Rockefeller as a hostage . . . as long as Rockefeller was [i]alive[/i].

At this moment the girl returned her weapon to the holster on her back and kept an eye on the officers just in case they tried something. Groaning Russel ran his hand over his face, his mind racing to remedy the situation. He [i]needed[/i] that man dead or at the very least locked away for the rest of his days. Looking up in disgust he saw a figure hunkered down on the top of a roof. Grinning Russel walked back into the illegal merchandise room, going to work quickly and returning with a modified rifle.

“Well boys guess it’s your lucky day,” Russel, plastered, said cocking the rifle before taking aim through the tiny crack in the window, “Ol’ Russel is gonna save your asses tonight . . .”

Crack! Crack, crack! The gunshots rang out so loud it was almost ear splitting. Patting himself all over Russel saw that he hadn’t been shot; he knew he hadn’t pulled the trigger when the gunshot went off. Looking through the sight Russel was actually surprised by what his eyes saw. All of Rockefeller’s men had been taken out, lying on the ground groaning as barrels rolled away from them. Growling underneath his breath Russel hoisted his gun back up and before anyone else could move, took his shot.

With his shaky aim it was amazing Russel actually hit his mark; a miracle considering how small it was. The man who had taken Rockefeller’s gun had it ripped from his hand, the bullet would have dented it so badly it wouldn’t be able to shoot more than once now, and was now lying on the ground. The moment Rockefeller wasn’t in immediate danger of being shot he leaped up, despite having his foot shot, you’d be surprised what anger will push you through, and tackled Desmond to the ground. The giant was able to manhandle Desmond so that he was in a favorable position.

“Seems we’ve solved that little dilemma,” Russel thought putting the rifle away and getting ready to leave. Rockefeller’s men had been able to get up quickly, swinging their pistols around and shouting; not only that but now there was another large group, maybe twenty, men with automatic pistols. The group alone could tear through anybody stupid enough to shoot first, second, last or back.

Shouting to one of the men with an automatic pistol Rockefeller exchanged positions with him so he could be free of holding Desmond down. Snapping his fingers the new gunmen began getting to work, pulling away injured men and seizing Jericho from here she had been holding out.

“Guess Mr. Wayne is back from his stroll? Just in time . . . though now I have to bother with finding replacement men,” walking around for a bit, limping heavily from his wounded foot, Rockefeller eventually made it back to Desmond and pointed, “You’ll be paying for that you little sh*t . . . hard labor or hanging, I don’t give a d*mn how, you’ll pay . . .”

“Get these pieces of sh*t to the jailhouse!”

[Raine]

[color=#800080]“Oh my,”[/color] Gaius said embarrassed as he scratched his head, [color=#800080]“I’m flattered you know about little ol’ me.”[/color] Gaius moved to the bars to stand face to face with Job, [color=#800080]“Let alone, know about my habit and mannerisms involving other- irrelevant.” [/color]Gaius granted himself a faint grin, [color=#800080]“You know, men like us,”[/color] he cleared his throat, [color=#800080]“We don’t have what would necessarily be called rules.”[/color]

[color=#800080] “See, I have no quarrel with you. Even if I did, would it bad enough I’d want you dead? I wouldn’t think so, see I got myself a little dilemma. Whatever you’re doing and hey, I need to know, it’s none of my business. However you seemed to have made some enemies judging by the-,”[/color] Gaius pointed his finger to imitate a gun, [color=#800080]“boom bangs I’m hearing.”[/color]

[color=#800080] “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret,”[/color] Gaius started whispering just loud enough for Job to hear, [color=#800080]“I don’t care if you die[/color]”. Gaius began to speak up again, [color=#800080]“How’s that for a secret, I just want the winning side, that’s my only concern.”[/color]

[color=#800080] ‘Now the fun part,” [/color]Gaius sat back on the bench placing his hands behind his head and crossing his legs, [color=#800080]“As two men of opportunity, I offer my services for the right price…”[/color]

[TotalObelisk]

Since it seemed that the action was over for the moment Jericho took the opportunity to catch her breath and assess the situation. Admitedly they where still in a bit of a pickle what with the only thing preventing the goon squad from engaging further was the other guy, Jericho hadn't caught his name, holding their boss at gunpoint, and while Jericho was more or less grateful for the help she didn't know if the other man was the sort to follow through with his threat in case the other goons tried to rush him, which if he did would cause him to lose his barganing chip and piss off the goons even more. On the bright side the goons didn't seem all that bright, after all they opened fire almost immediately based on information from a passing drunk, lawmen standards must really be slipping. What they really needed right now though was a distraction, something that could grab the goons' attention long enough for them to make a break for it and...

BANG!

Jericho looked around suddenly as a cart of barrels toppled over, spilling its contense over the ground and knocking the goon squad over like a set of bowling pins. A second shot sent a heavy wooden sign swinging and cracking the skull of the goon nearest to Jericho. Jericho looked around, neither of the shots had come from the other guy since he was still holding the boss goon at gunpoint, so somebody else must have taken the shots instead. Jericho wasn't going to waste a good opportunity and quickly ducked into the nearest alleyway as another shot rang out, though she didn't check to see the resutls. She could hear more shouting and what sounded like a scuffle but she was too busy getting herself lost in a maze of alleys to go back and check.

She soon heard the sounds of people pursuing her, apparently the goons had multiplied when she wasn't looking as it now looked as though there where more of them, luckily the narrow alley gave Jericho a slight advantage, the men could only come through one at a time meaning the guy at the front was blocking the shots of the guys behind him. Jericho pulled out her rifle again with a smirk as the first goon rounded the corner, she quickly took aim and fired, lodging a bullet in the man's shoulder and causing him to stumble back into his comrades. With the men distracted for the moment she quickly exited the alley and made her way into the crowd in an attempt to blend in, thougn anybody with half a brain could spot her polished silver rifle from a mile away.

[b]"'scuse me, pardon me, comin' through, nice 'at!"[/b]

Once she reached the other end of the street she looked up to check back on the other guy who didn't seem to be having as much luck as she was.

[b]"Ah, t'return the favor or t'get away scott free,"[/b] she muttered to herself, still cradling her rifle.

There where far more men than before and pretty much all of them where armed, any attempts to fire on them would likely result in her turning into swiss cheese in a matter of moments and she didn't have any cover this time. She considered her options for a moment just as the men that had been following her emerged onto the street, one of them with a hand over his wounded soldier and looking very pissed off. Naturally upon seeing the armed squad of men the crowd immediatly parted, giving them a clear line of sight to Jericho as they all raised their guns.

[b]"Aw, shoot,"[/b] Jericho muttered, raising both arms as the men approached her [b]"No 'ard feelins about that shoulder, right? It weren't anythin personal."[/b]

The punch to her jaw certified that there were indeed 'hard feelings', though Jericho did at least get the satisfaction of seeing the man wince in pain from punching her with his wounded arm.

[b]"Didn't yer mama ever tell ya not t'hit a girl?"[/b] This earned her a second punch, after which Jericho wisely decided not to provoke the armed man any further.

[Makο]

Gunner peaked up from the turrets glass dome, of which was all but shattered by stray bullets. Gunner was...notably pissed. Far more than hid usual demeanor would demand. As a dedicated gunner, funny enough, on the machine, he had plenty of downtime to customize his space. Small drawings of thing that had come to mind, a rack for his .22, a cup holder... that dome was his pride and joy. But now, it was a wreck, with shattered glass and bullet holes riddled along the side. It didn't take a genius to figure out the source of such firepower, it being the group of armed men that were...surrounding a woman? In all honesty, he hadn't been paying much attention to the situation, occasionally checking them out when a another shot went off. As a result, he didn't exactly know who the bad guys were.

At this point, he didn't really care. All that was echoing in his head was his instructions from Rundas, which he decided to write down earlier.

[i][color=#006400]Just [/color]shoot if shot at.[/i]

The loud, mechanical clanking of the swivel turret resounded through the outskirts, of which the woman and group of men had gone closer towards. Pull up, pull left, pull right, pull down. An old, spent shell from a previous engagement launched out of the top of the cannon, loading in a fresh one. Finger on the trigger and sights lined up, he leaned out the shattered dome.

"[color=#8b4513]You [/color]guys owe me a LOT of glass!"

A dull but very loud thud rang out throughout the entire area as the area near those men exploded, sending debris and dust flying in the air. Pull up, pull left, pull right, pull down.


=In a General Store, a good distance away=

Rundas placed a small can of beans back down onto the shelf, and handed the rest of the stuff he was carrying to a nearby Melissa. Grabbing his rifle, and tossing his wallet towards his companion, he ran out the door. Mellisa already had her hand on her temples.

"[color=#0000ff]That [/color]idiot Gunner..."

[Admiral_Stalfos19]

[color=#4b0082][i]'Yep... they're definitely the bad guys,'[/i][/color][color=#000000] Nova decided, before thinking about how to kill off twenty guys at once.[/color]

[color=#000000]That was a tall order for [i]any[/i] lone ranger to tackle, especially for someone like Nova, who'd get so caught up in blood-lust that she'd eventually just end up getting shot... and then [i]dying[/i]! The best method that Nova could take given her situation would be to lure these goons into a choke-point of some sort, where they'd be much easier to take down, but ironically, an even [i]better[/i] idea was set into motion. Goons soaring in all directions because they were shot at by what could be mistaken as a [i]tank[/i]! Obviously, their leader (Rockfeller) would try make a break for it. It's what Nova of all people would've done if she were him, and [i]she's[/i] the only likely one that would be ballsy enough to take on something like that. However, to stop this guy from going anywhere, Nova jumped down from the roof, landing on the side of him that [i]wasn't[/i] covered by the "tank", and held out The Grandfather towards his neck. She wasn't in the mood for allowing bad guys to live, and she [i]certainly[/i] would rather stay on the "tank" pilot's good side.[/color]

[color=#4b0082]"If you value your life, then I suggest you stay where you are,"[/color][color=#000000] Nova warned the man.[/color]

[Super Chaos Sonic]

[color=#FF0000][b]=Tyson=[/b][/color]

His plan worked well...for a short period of time. Sure the goons were knocked out, thanks to him, however they still had Desmond and Jericho at gunpoint, especially when Rockefeller grabbed one of the men's shoulder and stood up. He pointed his weapon straight at Desmond, with a pissed looking grin. [i][b]"You two are gonna die right here...you smug b*stard!"[/b][/i] Tyson heard Rockefeller shout.

[color=#FF0000][i]Damn, guess I really will have to get out there and stop them. [/i][/color]Tyson thought, gritting his teeth a bit. He didn't want to reveal himself to everyone else yet, mainly cause if he did...there'd be A LOT more bloodshed. As he began to step out of the alley....

[i][b]BANG![/b][/i]

Tyson heard the, quickly turning his head to see what shot the goons and Rockefeller. He couldn't see what shot them...but it must've been huge with that type of shot. Then he saw Nova getting into the fray, now the odds were going into their favor. [color=#FF0000][i]Well this is going well...but I'm hoping that Job heard this.[/i][/color]

[b]=Job Wayne=[/b]

Job stood there and listened to Gaius rant, but after ten seconds before he finished, he planted his boot into Gaius' face as he kicked him. [b]"Well apparently you don't know me or my employer very well." [/b]he chuckled as he watched Gaius try to stop his nose from bleeding. But that's about the time...

[b][i]BANG![/i][/b]

[b]"What the hell?!"[/b] Job yelled as he ran toward the prison window, seeing the Rundas and the fight that was going on. [b]"Damn idiots. Rockefeller can't do anything right! You!" [/b]he yelled at another goon which he had following him. [b]"Keep your backside here and watch the prisoner. I'm going to take care of this!"[/b]

Job stormed out of the prison, beginning to find a way to cease the fighting [i]AND [/i]execute these morons.

[Raine]

Gaius brushed the back of his wrist against his nose to clean off the blood, “b****,” he mumbled under his breath as the bandit left. Gaius sat back on his bench and noticed his new host giving him an evil eye, stupid but devoted he thought looking at the guard. Gaius sighed as he so often did, his mind was empty he had hoped a more opportune moment would present itself if he found a peaceful way inside.

It wasn’t five minutes that passed; Gaius’s nose did not stop bleeding now the red fluid was down to his chin which raised the guard’s attention. He was still. The guard approached the cage bars, one of his hands firmly on his nightstick, not far from his holster. Gaius’s body dropped lifeless to its side, the suddenness invoking some kind of panic from his capturer. The guard scrambled for his keys and opened the lock weapon in hand as he cautiously moved his hand to Gaius’s neck to feel for a pulse.

Gaius jumped up grasping the guard’s outreached hand; the guard was not completely surprised as he swung down his stick striking at his forearm he had extended to guard. The pain forced a momentary stun as he involuntarily released the guard’s hand. His host backed away from the cell attempting to close the cell again; however Gaius quickly recovered to his feet. The guard fumbled with keys before the man crushed his foot against the steel smashing it outwards and as consequence injuring the key-wielding hand.

By now Gaius’s old guard had noticed and approached him and covered for his comrade tackling Gaius as he attempted to sprint for the hallway. He was strong, but Gaius had more experience as his instincts kicked on and his body went for some police submissive holds. Now in control of one of the guards, he let down his guard when his ears picked up the sound of a hammer being pulled back. The guard he had left injured from his kick had reached for his gun and was aiming for him.

Gaius thought quickly as he forced his hold upward, and brought his submissive host to his feet, in front of him as a human shield. The gunfire from outside was becoming louder and more frequent but still distant, they were the only ones still left in City Hall. Both he and the armed guard stared down as Gaius’s hostage moaned in pain as his muscles tightened around him. The capturer holding the gun took a deep breath. s***, Gaius thought in panic as the guard took aim with one eye down the site.

Timed as well as he could Gaius minimalized exposed body area as the guard trigger exploded the bullet zooming through the air. The metal pierced just under his shield’s collar bone, all the way through and into the path of Gaius. Thanks primarily to a stroke of good fortune the bullet, chipped at his left bicep. Knowing the next shot was imminent; Gaius gave a harsh shove forward with his good arm, propelling his heavily bleeding hostage towards the guard.

In an all or nothing, Gaius crouched low following, avoiding a direct line-of-sight with his pursuer. Luckily the room was small, and he closed the distance between them quickly. The second tick of the hammer rang, Gaius went for it. His injured arm removed the delusional and quickly perishing shield as he raised his fist for an uppercut. His speed prevailed, the second bullet lodged into the ceiling and Gaius’s fist caught the armed guards chin.

Struck, Gaius knew he won as he disarmed the pistol from the man and punished him to the floor with a rough heel to his sternum. In a single motion, Gaius dismantled the bullets from the gun and threw it to the corner of the room. His work wasn’t done yet, he moved over to his fallen enemy attempted to recover and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him into his former cell keeping him down with a final foot to his stomach.

Gaius swiftly recovered the keys and locked the cell before passing a glance to his human shield. His shirt was stained red, upon inspecting his wound Gaius could tell from priors that his artery was struck, there was no other path of fate after the wound was inflicted. An agitated weak voice from behind Gaius, [color=#ff0000]“Why do you care?”[/color] he turned to face his recovering captured guard,[color=#ff0000] “Why are you checking him?”[/color]

Gaius faced way and moved to a chest beside the cell, and moved to recover his possessions. While putting on his coat he spoke, [color=#800080]“I remember every life I take, to ignore them would be a sin itself and I have enough them as it is,” [/color]Gaius tossed the strap of his rifle around his shoulder, [color=#800080]“I would rather not have more than I need.”[/color]

The guard sneered and spit on the ground. Gaius continued to not look directly at him, [color=#800080]“Why do you fight?” [/color]Gaius finally glanced into his eyes, [color=#800080]“Why did you deem it necessary to take your comrade’s life in the chance you’d take my own?”[/color]

The guard let out a single weak laugh, his breath was still coming back to him, [color=#ff0000]“It’s my job, why should I care about his life if it got in the way?”[/color]

Gaius retrieved his last item, [color=#800080]“That’s truly unfortunate,”[/color] Gáe Buide rested firmly in his grip, polish steel gold-plated, specially balanced for ease of hip firing. Gaius rose from his kneeling and approached just outside the reach of the cell, pistol in hand.

The guard’s eyes widened, [color=#ff0000]“B-but I thought you were soft hearted by the way you check on that guy,”[/color] he moved to the back of the wall hands scrambling over the brick.

Gaius took aim purposely making similar motions to the guard, [color=#800080]“It’s my job, why should I care about your life if you got in the way.”[/color] Gaius moved his free palm in front of his face and pulled the trigger, the blowback sent a warm shower over his palm and some of his clothes. He felt remarkable little remorse over this kill. Gaius glanced over the blood on his hand, [color=#800080]“I’ll clean up later, I’m certain I will more dyed in red before this is over…”[/color]

[ListenToLife]

Desmond sighed and relaxed as he pinned Rockefeller; confident that this would cease the fighting. The goons had halted, and Jericho had come out from behind the crates, her weapons sheathed. All was well and good for a moment, and there was merely silence. A cold silence; arising from the tension between killers. A stalemate was always a hard place to be in. No way to unwind it or leave it, asides from shooting the others. And there was no way to tell when someone was gonna shoot. A perfect balance of bloodlust and hesitation.

He needed to shoot Rockefeller and leave, that was probably the only option. But then the goons would be free to fire once more, and that wasn't good. But if the goons shot first, Rockefeller was going to get a bullet through his skull anyway. Not a good situation for the defeated gunman, it seemed; death no matter which way you were looking.
But an oppurtunity to leave him alive arrived quicker than expected. 2 shots echoed in the street, and two bullets found their targets in a cart full of barrels and a chain. An effective combo, which single-handedly took out almost all of the gunmen there at that moment. And gave them an oppurtunity to escape.

But, for some reason, Desmond hesitated. Bad idea. A third shot came along soon after the previous two, this time aimed at himself. From the direction of the town hall, a single bullet flew towards him. He couldn't see it, obviously, but he could hear it whistle through the air as it approached; a dark sound for a gunman. The doppler effect kicked in, and the whine became higher pitched, and everything appeared to be in slow motion. He twisted his head, feeling as if it was made of lead, and managed to get one look at the town hall before jerking to his side; Rockefeller's pistol knocked clean from his shot.

Two thoughts raced through his head at that moment, simultaneously attacking his brain when he needed to be focussed. [i]Nice shot, [/i]was his initial reaction, complimenting the hidden gunner on his accuracy. The second was merely [i]I must be getting old[/i]; and his current reactions seemed to emphasize this. He had pretty much no chance of evading the quick attack of Rockefeller at that point, not with how slow he seemed to be moving. The gun had barely hit the floor, he had barely lifted his own revolver to Rockefeller, when he was tackled to the ground; the force of the giant man sending him sprawling. He was crushed beneath this giant, and his handgun slid across the ground, just out of his reach.

"Dammit." He cursed, before Rockefeller reached quickly for the gun of one of his own men; pointing it at Desmond in a similar fashion to how Desmond had only recently threatened him. At the same time, a grunt swapped places with Rockefeller, lighting the load a little bit as he was pinned down. Sadly for the two of them, Desmond seemed to have made some friends. Rockefeller's goons had been blown away by an explosion in the centre of the street, a massive shell had attacked them and sent them flying. And now, Nova had jumped from the roof beside him, holding a...wait, a sword? A massive sword! I mean, a fricking massive blade! And it was pointed directly at Rockefeller's neck.

Desmond grinned and offered her a quick thanks, before easily removing the grunt from him - kneeing him in the groin, causing him to roll to the side. He then picked himself from the floor, and proceed to brush dust off his jeans before he stared at Rockefeller, his smile gone. "Back to square one." He said, picking his own gun off the floor and rubbing it on his shirt, polishing its dirtied features. After it was thoroughly cleaned - taking about half a minute - he kissed it and placed it back in its holster, moving towards Rockefeller once again.
"Oh, and before I forget..." He muttered, punching Rockefeller hard in the gut, causing him to fall onto Desmond's shoulders, winded and unable to move. "...dont want you trying anything again." He whispered into the man's ear, then shrugging him off and onto the floor, where he lay clutching his abdomen.

"Keep an eye on him." Desmond ordered, aiming his focus at Nova. To be honest, Rockefeller was no longer much of a threat - a still bleeding would in the foot left him nearly unable to walk, and he was now winded - so he wasn't too bothered if Nova disobeyed; but Desmond's expression would've probably left a mark. He was serious, deadly serious, and cold had returned to his eyes. He was in his dueling conditions, and the next person to oppose him would get a bullet in the head, faster than they could bat an eyelid. Even the large, military-style vehicle had no effect on him at the moment, despite his usual intrigue at things like that. His eyes were all for the Town hall, where not only his shooter was at, but Job Wayne was probably in there; perhaps even emerging at that moment. Desmond's hand hovered above his gun now, waiting for the man to leave the building.

[Super Chaos Sonic]

[b]"Everyone stay where the hell you are!"[/b] yelled a voice from behind Desmond and the others. As everyone turned to find where the origination of the voice came from, they saw Job and a group of twenty-five men.

"B-Boss....thank god you're here!" Rockefeller said, trying to limp towards them. "I had everything under control but then these mor-" His words were cut short as he was shot in the chest....by Job. "B-Boss??" he asked, as he fell to his knees.

[b]"If you had everything under control...these rouges would've been dead by now." [/b]Job said, pointing his rifle at Rockefeller once more.

"N-No...boss please...give me another chance!"

Job was silent...but his action spoke what he was thinking. [b][i]BANG! [/i][/b]His bullet hit the middle of Rockefeller's head. [b]"My employer wouldn't have...neither will I..." [/b]he spat.

[color=#FF0000][i]N-No way...he just shot his own man!! [/i][/color]Tyson thought, staying hidden in the alley. Though his time was coming up to help, now that Job was here.

But before Tyson did anything, he saw a innocent woman who was a passerby just scream as she saw Rockefeller dead. That's when things got a bit...drastic. Job snapped his fingers and his men quickly surrounded the woman. [b]"Shhh, don't cry babe. If you want I can arrange that you join him." [/b]Job grinned sadistically, making sure a few more of his men surrounded Desmond and the others. He pulled out a small pistol and pointed it at the woman's head. [b]"Bon voyage, wh*re."[/b] He began to pull the trigger and...

[color=#FF0000][b][i]BANG![/i][/b][/color]

The woman heard the shot...but she wasn't dead...but...why?

[b]"AHHHHHH!!! Damn my hand!!!" [/b]Job yelled, cussing as he held his now bleeding hand. [b]"WHO HAS THE BALLS!!!"[/b]

[color=#FF0000]"That...would be me!"[/color]

[i][url="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zk1Hft51c5k"]Trigun Badlands Rumble OST - The Stampede[/url][/i]

Job turned quickly as he saw Tyson, twirling Angelo in his left hand. [color=#FF0000]"Last time I checked...that wasn't how you are supposed to treat a lady. Apparently you never learned that." [/color]Tyson said, with a smirk on his face.

[b]"Damn kid, who do you think you are?!"[/b]

Tyson placed Angelo back in his holster, as he ran his hand through his hair, quickly glaring straight at Job. [color=#FF0000]"You should already know. I'm Tyson Hawks, The Red Blaze!" [/color]he said sternly. He looked straight at Desmond, nodding slight, telling him he should probably strike while he had them distracted.

[ListenToLife]

The message was received loud and clear, and Desmond knew exactly what to do. Rockefeller's death meant that Job had wasted some ammo; two bullets out of a 6 maximum. That left Job with, at most, 4 bullets left, after the loss of his handgun. And Job was really the only man who posed a large threat to the group. With the large group they had amassed, they were pretty much guarrenteed to take Job down; even if he didn't realise it himself.

But for now, the main idea was to get rid of the posse that had surrounded Job. They weren't that much of a threat, it seemed; but they were definitely more focussed and in control than the previous goons had been. Better trained, by far. Not that it meant anything to a bullet in the forehead. Which was what quite a few of them ended up with within the next few seconds. For as soon as Tyson nodded, Desmond set off. His gun had somehow found its way into his hand, insanely fast, and was already firing. 4 bullets shot, and the four gunmen nearest the helpless women were dead; blood gushing down their faces. They dropped with expressions of confusion and horror, their deaths seemingly unrealistic to them.

He ran past Job, completely disregarding the boss as he aimed for the women. He lifted the terrified girl over his shoulder with ease, displaying strength that was almost unnatural for his years. He then proceeded to reload his gun in an automatic fashion, using merely one hand to do all the necessary loading. And again, it was incredibly fast, so much so to confuse and distract anyone simple-minded who gazed upon it. Which, co-incidentally, resulted in the deaths of three dim-witted gunmen while Desmond ran into an alley on the opposite side of the street to Tyson, ducking around a corner so to be out of sight. He laid the shocked woman on the ground next to him before reloading the three bullets once again and preparing for the main battle. Job was obviously Tyson's target, and he wouldn't get in the way of that kill. But there were 18 men out there, all ready to kill.

[Admiral_Stalfos19]

[color=#000000]All that was racing through Nova's mind [i]now[/i] was bloodshed. Bloodshed as Job shot his own ally in the chest. Bloodshed as he then shot him in the head. Bloodshed as he [i]got[/i] shot by Tyson, the very man Nova recognized from that wanted poster with the ridiculously high bounty figure. And finally, bloodshed as Desmond had taken down 7 of the 25 goons that Job had brought with him. Nova [i]had[/i] to get in on this... she just [i]had[/i] [/color][color=#000000]to.[/color]

[color=#000000]If Job was smart, he would've at the very least [i]reached[/i] for the gun that was knocked off his hand the second he recovered, but before he could do so...[/color]

[color=#4B0082]"YOINK!!"[/color][color=#000000] [/color][color=#000000]Nova exclaimed as she dove straight [i]for[/i] it, rolling along the ground just as she grabbed the weapon and fired all the ammo it had on the goons. At least 5 of them had been shot by their own boss' gun, and that was before they could even [i]retaliate[/i]. As even [i]more[/i]​ of a dick move, Nova shoved the handgun deep into a nearby trash can, before whistling in an innocent tone, spinning The Grandfather as she did so.[/color]

[Jake the Sage]

The sound of gunfire rang out, catching Russel’s attention from his perch in the mayor’s office enough that h rushed over to the window to see what had happened. Apparently while he was getting ready for his escape a few things had happened. Job Wayne, who was now on scene with about twenty five other gunmen, was clutching his bleeding hand and shouting wildly into the air. Oh . . . and Rockefeller was dead with two gunshots . . . but Russel hardly noticed his recently lead filled corpse. In answer to his shouting another stranger appeared from the alley, twirling a gun in his left hand, and smirked when Job barked, “D*mn kid! Who do you think you are?!”

Russel couldn’t hear the newcomer’s answer, but it was obviously something that had gotten job even more pissed. Even from here Russel could see his face beet red. Taking one last sip from the alcohol he tossed the bottle aside muttering to himself, “Seems things are gonna get interesting again . . .”

But Russel was more than a little disappointed, as if scripted, the man Russel had been trying to get killed was now shooting wildly at the lawmen; taking out four gunmen before racing over to rescue a woman who apparently got mixed up in the events. The man ran away with the girl and shot three more times resulting in the death of three more lawmen. It was about that time that a female, not the one Russel had used as a scapegoat he noted, managed to get a pistol that had been lying on the ground and fired all the ammo it had in it. Five more were shot. Then the female discarded the used pistol into a nearby trash can, before whistling in an innocent tone, spinning her own weapon once she had done so.

Turning around Russel ignored the events outside, finishing up what he was doing right now, which happened to be scribbling a note that he planned on posting in the mayor’s office. The note wasn’t going to be a challenge, a warning or anything even from Russel himself. Instead it was labeled and read like a message from the ‘Black Mambas’, a group of bandits Russel was more than intimate with, though he wasn’t even a member; they had been hunting him for a long time and he enjoyed ensuring they took the blame for most of his antics. In fact there were more Black Mambas in jail houses all over the country serving time for things he had done than anything they’d done for the actual posse. Stabbing the note into the wooden desk with a knife Russel picked up his now bulging backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and lowered his hat, “Now I need another horse . . . I suppose the mayor wouldn’t mind lending me one if I asked, though I hate bothering him when he’s busy . . .”

Descending the stairs Russel peered out of the front window, seeing that Job had managed to arrange the remaining lawmen to take out the red-haired youth; of course this had happened while Russel was penning the note. Watching for a bit he could, now that he was on the ground floor, hear Job shouting, “I don’t give a d*mn about the other b*stard or the wh*res! We’ll deal with them later! Kill THAT MAN [i]NOW[/i]!!!”

Russel remained still as the lawmen, with their automatic pistols took aim at Tyson; when they began firing there wouldn’t be enough time for him to duck for cover much less retaliate. He was going to become swish cheese. Shrugging his shoulders Russel walked back into the stables and undid one of the hourses. He didn’t give two coins about some idiot stupid enough to be out in the open with so many auto wielding trigger happy baboons. But as he lead the horse around to the corner he let out a loud groan, unable to leave despite it being the only sensible thing he should do. D*mn he hated when he started sobering up and thinking about the well-being of other people!!!

Kneeing the horse’s ribs to make it charge he burst from around the corner, chunking a fine bottle of near one hundred proof alcohol with a burning rag cork amongst the lawmen and took a shot. As the bottle busted from the gunshot and flames spread all over the open area where the alcohol landed, sending a wall of fire to spring up and burning a good dozen lawmen, Russel continued racing through the town like Hell was after him. He shouted something over his shoulders amounting to ‘you’re welcome’ or ‘this is for helping me’ to Tyson as he passed but while he went through the town he shouted at the top of his lungs while laughing, “The town is burning! The town is burning!”

Even if he hadn’t warned the townsfolk they already knew. They’re livelihood was being burnt to the ground and if they didn’t put it out they’d all be homeless. Nothing like the fear of having nothing in your own name to make people ignore the previous fear they had towards the lawmen. Each person in the town rushed with buckets of water, dirt, sh*t, whatever they could get a hold of quickly to put out the spreading fire; it was already burning down the nearest building, a barber shop. When the lawmen got up they got knocked back over by the townsfolk as they tried to put out the fire.

The entire town was out fighting the blaze. There was no way a fight could continue like it had been without innocent people being killed; and no one had the ammo to shoot until he could finally nail his target.

[TotalObelisk]

Jericho was bleeding from the lip after the second punch, she was just wiping the blood from her chin when she noticed a sound close by, a loud mechanical sound soon following by a sort of thunk. The group of gunmen were naturally confused, Jericho howeved ducked down as quickly as possible before the street seemed to explode, scattering the goons and startling the ones that weren't imediately taken out. In the confusion Jericho quickly stood up again and took the opportunity to knee the goon that had punched her in the groin before darting off in the confusion.

She made her way back to the town hall, crouching down in another alleyway to see what else was going on. A voice yelled from the town hall and somebody walked out, apparently the head honcho of all the goons currently littered about the street and followed by a group of another 20 or so gunmen.

[b]"Where t'hell does ee get all'a these goons?"[/b] Jericho muttered to herself.

No sooner had that man exited the building that the head goon, or rather sub-head goon now, walked up to the new head goon. Jericho couldn't hear what they were saying but it was soon followed by two gunshots, one to the man's chest and then a moment later another to his head. A loud scream drew the man's attention and as Jericho watched he ordered his men to surround the bystander that had screamed, preparing to shoot her. Jericho quickly made to draw one of her own weapons but knew she wouldn't be able to draw it in time, and even if she did she'd give her position away imediately and no doubt be set upon by another dozen gunmen.

However it seemed like she didn't have to bother as another shot rang out, though it wasn't from the boss' gun. Instead his gun flew from his hand. Jericho peeked around the corner and spied a boy with bright red hair walking towards the man in your standard badass gunman walk, Jericho raised an eyebrow as she watched the boy.

[b]"Now where ave Ah seen him b'fore?"[/b] She muttered to herself.

As if to answer her question the boy introduced himself to the boss man as Tyson Hawks. Jericho recognized the name from the poster she'd spotted earlier. It was then that all hell began to break loose in a very short space of time, somehow the woman she'd come across in the bar earlier had gotten mixed up in this as well and before she knew it a dozen gunmen where lined up and about to shoot Tyson. Jericho quickly left her cover, drawing two of her rifles, one in each hand, and prepared to take them out. Before she could fire a man on a horse gallopsed past and started a fire, only adding further to the chaos but at least providing a good distraction.

Not about to be left out of a good shootout Jericho raised both her weapons and began firing at the goons scattered about the area before any of them had even registered she was there, a slightly satisfied grin crossed her face as she fired, she hadn't had this much fun in ages.

[Super Chaos Sonic]

[b]“I don’t give a d*mn about the other b*stard or the wh*res! We’ll deal with them later! Kill THAT MAN [i]NOW[/i]!!!”[/b]

Tyson heard that and saw all the automatic pistols pointed at him. [color=#FF0000]"Hey now, hey now! Let's not get TOO hasty here..." [/color]he said with a nervous chuckle. [color=#FF0000][i]Honestly thought Desmond would've taken out a bit more... [/i][/color]he thought, as he just had his hands up, smiling nervously.

About this time, Russel started the fire, which is where things got a bit interesting.

[b]"What the...damn! With this...I can't figure out where the hell the target is!!" [/b]Job yelled, with a cough as he watched smoke pour from many of the buildings on fire.

[color=#FF0000][i]A fire...that means a pretty good distraction...but also means the bystanders... [/i][/color]Tyson thought, before he yelled. [color=#FF0000]"Desmond! See if you can get your lady friends with you to help the townspeople!!"[/color]

[b]"What is the kid nuts?! Kill them and the boy!" [/b]Job said, yelling at his men. But all he got was them complaining on how hard it was to see. [b]"Incompetent morons!!!"[/b]

[color=#FF0000][i]Good...now I'll be able to have a nice chat...with Job. [/i][/color]Tyson smirked, walking through the smoke, heading directly for Job.

[Raine]

Smoke blurred his spy glass; it seems as if Gaius’s personal showdown would be cancelled, [color=#800080]“Damn basic cable,” [/color]he mumbled from the Town Hall’s rooftop. Gaius knelt down below the siding to a mass of mechanical parts, spoils of unarming an armory. An attractive feature of the egotistical personality, backups and security come at a minimum. While rummaging through the bulky iron he had to move a piece of a fabric over his mouth, the wind was blowing the smoke into the city hall. He had to be careful the fire didn’t spread to the building as well. He noted the yells of some jackass yelling, like starting a fire was a favor.

Gaius never really concerned himself with collateral damage, if a fire started a fire started; there was no reason to go out of your way to do something unnecessary like that. Perhaps Gaius was becoming weaker as he aged, surely the most effective method of killing someone is one bullet but you shouldn’t risk compromising the operation just to maximize effectiveness. As his mind was pondering meaningless ramblings his hands carefully crafted, matching metal segment to metal segment.

His hands worked as an artisan through a background of panic, the rooftop offering relative solitude to focus. At last a satisfying slam of the firing pin locking place rung and a grin crossed his lips. In an effortful tug he barely managed to place the guiding stand of the machine on the edge of the building overlooking a bulk of the combat, including a vantage point of his new acquaintance Job and his soon to be unfortunate combatant. Just then the taste of hypocrisy graced his tongue, he didn’t like the taste but it wasn’t as if he was unfamiliar to it.

Gaius pulled a heavy iron chest to his side, reaching inside for an incredible long belt of metal comprised of linked bullets. His machine gun was certainly an interesting find, not only are they rare but due to the ridiculous install time and immobility there are few occasions it can be deemed appropriate. [color=#800080]“Only an idiot will charge an enemy head on when another option exists”[/color]. A cling and the belt was fastened into the gatling device, his vision could barely see Job nor his friend but he needn’t be hasty, [color=#800080]“For whatever happens, we have the Maxim and they have not,[/color]” a chuckle came from Gaius as he prepared for the volley at first sight.

[Jake the Sage]

The fire had broken out all throughout the town now, burning buildings and causing massive chaos. However all of the townsfolk were trying their hardest to put it out, throwing buckets upon buckets of water from the well or spigots that had running water. As the fire and townsfolk continued on their mission to save the town the gunmen were coughing finding it hard to see Tyson, Jericho or Desmond; there chances of catching Russel on horse was slim to none. Pushing down one of the women, causing her to spill her bucket of water, Job Wayne continued to walk towards Tyson aiming for his head. Shooting his bullet missed by a hair, drawing blood from Tyson's cheek, and whizzed through the air into an indiscriminate area. Pulling out a second gun Job shouted, "Red Blaze!"

[Super Chaos Sonic]

Tyson just stood there, not even grimacing in pain from the bullet grazing his cheek. He walked towards Job, quickly grabbing Diablo and shooting Job's leg, as he pushed him into a building wall. Before he did anything else, he pointed his pistol at Job's temple, ready to shoot.

[color=#FF0000]"Alright moron, here's the deal. This fire is pretty bad and let's be honest, your going to need a lot more help to put this fire out." [/color]Tyson said, glaring right into Job's eyes. [color=#FF0000]"Callin' a temporary truce to help put out this fire and save the rest of the townspeople. If you don't want the help, have fun explain' to your 'boss' how you lost an entire town to a fire."[/color]

Job was furious, and in pain mainly because of his leg having a fresh gunshot wound on it. [i][b]What the hell is this kid gettin' at?! How dare he just humiliate me like this...the b@stard... [/b][/i]he thought, gritting his teeth. But then he began thinking of what his boss: The Devil's Dealer would do. It was an impasse....and he had no choice. [b]"Fine...truce accepted. But once this is all over, your ass is getting thrown in jail!"[/b]

Tyson smirked and spun Diablo in his hand as he walked off to help put the fire out. [i][color=#FF0000]Sorry Job, but things will be heading in my favor...I just feel it. [/color][/i]he thought, as he started evacuating the townspeople from the 'hot' zone of the burning buildings.

[Raine]

As the smoke cleared in his scope, Gaius grits his teeth in anger. This was one of the few times he was truly furious. Gaius had always prided himself on his ability to make the most of any situation regardless of a side. He was coming out to win in the event of either Job or the red heads victory however his sight was betraying him. As Tyson and Job walked in unison towards the more fire-ridden areas of the town, Gaius slammed his fist into wood causing light bleeding. Gaius had no planned for a truce, even if their feud were rekindled his plan rested on an even duel not a one-sided trick play.

Gaius quickly snapped off the spyglass from his machine gun which was fading out of range anyways and jumped to his feet. A quick flick of the wrist and his scope was reapplied to his Gáe Derg. He hadn’t any time to waste, regardless of which one of them would take advantage of the situation first his own hand would be lost if he waited too long. He had to collect.

Gaius threw his body weight over the low border of the rooftop, leaving his turret behind. His frame fell not 3 feet before catching himself on the 1[sup]st[/sup] story patio roofing. Both parties were moving away, his pace increased. He slid on the angle and rolled off, finally landing him to the ground. The fires smoke was lessened at ground level, the plaza was practically dead as most were worrying about the blaze.

Tossing the stock of his rifle against his shoulder, he aimed walking taking his risk on the long shot. Job needed to be dead, he was not leaving this be, he needed his pay check one way or another. His crosshairs lined up, Job must have been 100 yards away. His finger twitched, the single shot of his weapon exploded rippling the recoil through Gaius’s body forcing his left leg backwards and his high caliber bullet exited the barrel. The sound of impact pulsated out, he was aiming while moving his accuracy was affected. The bullet passed a few feet from his target taking out a portion of wall from a building.

His cover was blown, but it doesn’t mean he lost. Gaius tossed himself a second shell, readying another reload. He needed to keep his distance, his advantage keeping the spacing large and enough stopping power to stop a freight train. This is his last shot to collect.

[Admiral_Stalfos19]

[color=#000000]Of course, most everyone else had turned their attention to extinguishing the fire. But Nova... she had [i]goons[/i] to finish off and a whole heap of bloodlust in her system. The only thing left to do [i]now[/i] was to exert that bloodlust and kill everyone around her, her being unaware that [i]Tyson[/i] wanted to kill the Job Wayne that was still nearby. Either that, or Nova couldn't care less; one or the other. The smoke was making it much easier on Nova to an extent, as the bullets fired at her would either miss [i]completely[/i], or be deflected by The Grandfather as she spun it around and around in her hand. As they were reloading, Nova commenced her strike.[/color]

[color=#000000]She started by ramming one of the goons with a shoulder charge, before swinging The Grandfather in a full circle, and lopping the heads of the vast majority of them. Nova followed this up by shooting down the ones she missed with Vastatio, before bursting into a maniacal laughter of sorts.[/color]

[color=#4b0082]"Ah, whoever came [i]up[/i] with this fire is a [i]genius[/i]!"[/color][color=#000000] Nova exclaimed to no-one in particular.[/color]

[Super Chaos Sonic]

As Gaius fired, the gunshot sound made Tyson turn just in time to see a sniper(Gaius) shoot. His target? He could only assume that it was Job. [color=#FF0000]"Get down!"[/color] he yelled as he pushed Job, forcing him to fall on his face. When this happened, the bullet hit the wall...missing its desired target.

[b]"WHAT THE F***IN' HELL BOY!!" [/b]Job yelled, as he sat up, his face full of dirt and sand. [b]"I agree to help you with this situation and you push me on the god-blessed ground!?"[/b]

[color=#FF0000]"In case you didn't realize, I just saved your sorry ass from getting a round shoved into that head of yours!" [/color]Tyson yelled back, pointing at the fresh hole the bullet made in the building's wall. He gritted his teeth as he ran his fingers through his hair. [color=#FF0000]"Screw this...let's just stop this fire and talk later."[/color]

Job stayed silent, as him and Tyson evacuated the townspeople and continue to stop the fire. Job dragged his scared men back to where he was, forcing them to help put out the fire. Tyson didn't think it was a great idea...but hey, if it was getting the fire put out it worked for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

[i][url=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7cjEgovupTw]Trigun OST - Never Could Have Been Worse[/url][/i]

As the fire finally died down, scorched and burnt houses still standing, Tyson stood beside Job as they looked at the main site of the fire. Tyson folded his arms, as he turned around, quickly putting his hands behind his head.

[color=#FF0000]"Well things could've been a lot worse..." [/color]he said with a slight chuckle. But it was stopped by a quick sound of a gun being loaded. He slowly turned and saw Job standing their with a pistol, loaded and cocked...being ready to fire.

[b]"Alright you troublemaking hooligan...get yer ass in jail or I'm going to kill you!"[/b] Job yelled.

Tyson sighed, just simply shaking his head. [color=#FF0000]"Yeah funny thing about that...I'm not going to jail." [/color]he said, quickly taking out both Angelo and Diablo. [color=#FF0000]"And I'm having you surrender right now..."[/color]

A stand-off was happening right now between Tyson and Job. Neither one moved or spoke...just stood there, even as Desmond and the others began to walk towards them.