Small break to eat, drink, fish, create a character and finish a different one.
Then update Part 2: This time it's slightly more personal but definately not robots.
As mentioned earlier please contain your clearly overflowing enthuisiasm and wait for part 2 to begin your posting, cheers.
Danyael slightly bruised (less so than had he been beheaded). Killed the captain with an awesome point bitch slap on an already natural critical. Gets an awesome point for his "seduce slightly female player" plan.
Virago killed the goalie. Hard. Get's an awesome point for being part of the Downhouser/Virago figure skating death copter.
Downhouser would have got an awesome point, but is full.
Vitali scores a goal. An unnecessary goal, but a goal.
Percy makes more goddamn snowmen.
Celeste had a terrible time this round, couldn't roll anything higher than a 4, didn't get a lot of "screentime" apologies.
Posted on 2011-05-05 at 19:13:38.
Edited on 2011-05-05 at 19:20:14 by Grugg
Topic: Tales of City Fantastico Subject: Update Part the First: FOURTH WALL AIR QUOTE ASSAULT! "When the Canadian sent us out on the ice, he likely expected us to end up much like those thugs we saw when we came in. You guys have eliminated two of his players, and quite spectacularly at that. Now let's finish this. They can't score if they can't stand right?"
Danyael's observation caught the attention of Downhouser, who was still “celebrating” with Katie, having “got her the ball” in the previous period, and the manic Virago who was, as per usual, grinning like a lunatic. Downhouser nodded with a rare look of understanding, and prepared to head out onto the ice as Virago called the group's attention for his own little inspirational speech.
"Guys, I have a confession. I don't really know how to play Hockey. My goal was to kill people. I'm sorry for leading you guys on, but I figured I should come clean. Now, without objection I'm going to go prepare for the next round. I haven't understood any of your strategy talk anyway besides the parts about hurting them, and getting the ball."
While the revelation about his lack of rules knowledge hardly came as a surprise to those assembled (considering he'd so far murdered two people and probably hadn't even noticed the puck), his “preparation” for the next round took the group of them off guard. Taken the fallen Wildfire goalie's stick and boring some of Vitali's copious duct tape supply, Virago quickly fashioned himself a double end “stick” that was more reminiscent of some sort of bizarre “heavily scythe covered helicopter blade”, so much so in fact, that despite them being in the narrative and not at all applicable to the world described in this tale, all those assembled were immediately aware that attempting to describe the weapon would involve heavy overuse of air quotes. The only one who seemed to not notice the absurdity of the “stick” was Virago himself, who looked to be attempting to play it off as nothing unusual as he skated non-nonchalantly out onto the ice. The group followed him as the last few remaining Wildfire players took to their side of the ice.
As Downhouser and Jean-Luc le Connard lined up at centre ice the assembled groups collective attention was quickly drawn to the Wildfire's goal, where the former defenceman turned goalie had seemingly taken some “extra precautions” in protecting his net. Strung up with skate lace were the two remaining bodies of the previously slain Wildfire players. The former goalie, stripped of his pads by the resourceful Vitali, and the defenceman's former blueline partner, still missing the front half of a head as the result of catching a Downhouser slap-shot dangled lifelessly from the corners of the net, and in concert with the already towering defenceman left standing, nearly completely blocked all of the open space in the net.
Before any complaints could be lodged against this obvious flaunting of the “no tying dead players to the net to prevent goals” rule, the referee threw the puck to the ice between Downhouser and the Wildfire captain, although neither seemed particularly interested in the puck. Never much for multitasking, Downhouser immediately got to the business of interfering, ploughing over the ref as he made his way towards Katie's side of the ice, preparing to flatten anyone who got in her way. Similarly, Connard made a fast break towards the opposite side of the ice, abandoning the puck itself in favour of pursuing the man who'd made a fool of him last period and Danyael quickly realized that non-audible descriptive text was referring to him as the captain hurtled towards him.
As Danyael hustled back towards his own end, Virago was dashing towards the Wildfire players, his terrifying death “stick”swinging around his body rapidly like some sort of incredibly deadly windmill on ice that hates people, completely oblivious to the puck slowly drifting towards his own net as he cross centre ice in a whirling dervish. Percy meanwhile had rediscovered his small collection of snowman, and began hurriedly reassembling those damaged by the Zamboni while giggling maniacally, much to Vitali's chagrin. The Ukrainian himself seemed slightly out of place as the hockey game degenerated into an all out brawl. While the puck drifted slowly but surely towards him, he was unsure of exactly how to proceed. If he left his net to help the others he might inadvertently allow a goal which could spell the end of all of them, especially where his defencemen seemed less than interested with defending. Giving a resigned sigh, Vitali settled into his fortified net, and hoped the other players would be able to deal with the Wildfires without his help.
Not far from Vitali's net, Danyael found himself again on the wrong end of a life-or-death chase with the Wildfire captain. Though many times in the past he'd had eluded vengeful husbands, he'd yet to have had a situation where he was in an enclosed space in hostile territory...on an ice rink. So far he wasn't enjoying the experience, as Jean-Luc had both the home field and experience advantage, and was rapidly closing the gap between them, and it seemed Danyael's time was quickly running out.
Soon Danyael found himself up against the boards, no help within easy distance, and the Connard up in the his face. The captain gave a unsettling grin and a laugh as he advanced on the trapped ladies' man.
”I'm going to enjoy this one, when I chop yoor head oof, yoo stoopid hoser...”, he laughed as he swung around and kicked his sharpened skate straight towards Danyael's head.
Danyael reflexively blinked, feeling a solid impact as he slammed hard to the ice. To be honest he'd expected it to feel different...more of a slicing feeling really. Something wasn't right here. Opening his eyes, Danyael looked up from where he had been knocked onto the ice. Standing just over him, his leg still outstretched, was the Wildfire's captain, Jean-Luc le Connard. As Danyael's eyes followed down his outstretched leg, he realized what had knocked him down. Standing up against the boards, a skate embedded deeply in their abdomen stood the Wildfire's (vaguely) female winger. As Danyael made eye contact with her(?), a small trickle of blood escaped the corner of her mouth. She looked down at Danyael, blowing him a weak kiss before she herself fell to the ice, dragging the Wildfire captain off balance as he hit the ice awkwardly.
What happened next seemed to happen in extreme slow motion. Danyael got to his feet, looking down at the captain as he struggled in vain to un-stick his foot from his former teammate. From there, his gaze went up to the stands, where his nemesis wife was sitting on the edge of her seat, watching events unfold. She looked back at him, and gave a knowing grin as he gave her a small wink and looked back at the captain.
”I think the lady's made her choice...”
What happened next has been forever since described as one of the most potent bitch slaps in the history of time. Rearing back as far as his torso would allow, Danyael shook off his glove and swung with all his might at the now very worried captain. The blow connected with an audible *THWAP* that briefly echoed (IN SLOW MOTION) throughout the arena as Danyael's follow through nearly spun him clear around. The captain, in a vagrant display of disregard for the actual laws of physics, took flight as the slap connected, tossing him bodily over the ice and into the seating, smashing through row after row until he crashed through an outer wall window and disappeared into the sky. The captain's wife spontaneously leapt out of her seat with a loud cheer before quickly settling back and regaining her composure, remembering she was technically married to the loser of the altercation. Danyael gave her a quick wink as time resumed its normal speed, causing her to swoon in her seat. It looked like he still had it.
Meanwhile, at the other end of the ice, the new Wildfire goalie found himself with only two hanging cadavers left in terms of teammates. Even more concerning, was Virago, who at this point had essentially lost all control in his wild spinning of his “stick” as he tore towards the net. As he crossed the blueline, he began to notice his feet were no longer on the ice. While he initially believed he'd perhaps spun fast enough to achieve helicopter-like flight, it quickly became apparent that Downhouser, no longer needing to run interference (there was no one left to interfere with really) had grabbed the spiralling Bostonian and lifted him bodily off the ground.
It was a fantastic sight, the enormous Downhouser hefting the strangely still spinning Virago off the ground with one arm, and holding him bodily over his head. To anyone that had followed doubles figure skating, it resembled a perfect overhead lift, and in fact it's perfection was simply so awesome that every figure skating judge within a mile radius (and for some reason there was a lot of them) immediately gave it a 6.0, setting a new world for a mono-gendered doubles team, though it was doubtful the decision would be upheld by any sports body, given the condition of the ice at the time, as well as the fact that both team members had killed one or people less than an hour before. A true loss to the sport of pairs skating, all told.
The wildfire replacement goalie, mindful of just what had occurred that led to him being able to string a pair corpses up as back-up goalies, hastily attempted to vacate the net. Downhouser (and by extension Virago, though in truth he had little control over what direction he headed in next) had other ideas, and hurtled the still twirling Virago toward the fleeing player. Virago's arm strength coupled with Virago's seeming disregard for hangtime restrictions combined a terrifying “stick” swinging hunter killer missile as Virago made contact with the defenceman's back. That was a large inexplicable smoke burst as he collided, and as it cleared Virago was left standing with no sign of the defenceman remaining save a slice of Wildfire uniform coloured cloth hanging from one end of Virago's stick. Further adding to the incredulousness of the situation, the corner of the Wildfire netting had seemingly spontaneously caught on fire, and burned a for a moment before smouldering out.
Back at the other end of the ice, Vitali waited patiently as the puck finally drifted within his reach. Stopping its minimal momentum with a poke of his stick, his attention was drawn to the action at the other end of the ice. As the disturbance ended, Vitali gave a quick look up at the scoreboard, noting that despite the lack of opposition players, there was still just under a minute left in the period. Gazing down the ice at the now mostly empty net, Vitali figured he might as well do something with the remaining time. Stepping out of the net and swinging back his oversized stick, Vitali ripped an end to end slapshot down ice. The whole arena watched as the puck made it's way across the rink, and straight down the centre of the lane into the net. There was a loud blare as the goal horn sounded and red lights throughout the arena flashed in celebration. Shortly afterwards the end of period horn sounded, and a familiar voice came over the loudspeakers.
”END OF THE GAAAAAAAAAAME LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! FINAL SCORE; WILDFIRES: ZERO, FANTASTI'S LAPDOGS: TWO. LET'S HAVE A BIG HAND FOR OUR TEAMS TONIGHT FOLKS!”
The dead silence in the arena was broken by the frantic clapping and cheering of the seemingly now widowed Amy le Connard. Danyael gave her a knowing look as the referee attempted to organise the group into a line for the traditional post-game handshake, but such formalities were abandoned as the only remaining opposition bodies on the ice could not be cut down from the net in time. The group made their way off their locker room to the continuing cheers of the widow Connard. With a huff, The Canadian stood up and made his way out of the seating area and headed for the stairs. Perhaps he'd underestimated this groop after all.
Topic: NBA Anyone? Subject:
...nope. Attempts to interrupt my hockey. So nope.
Posted on 2011-05-05 at 04:13:18.
Topic: Hockey Time Subject: sadf
This is the time where I take ten minutes to express my instense distaste for Boston, my laughing at the Caps and my hope Vancouver gets to the finals because CAAAAAAAANADA.
Topic: City Fantastico Q&A: The Quest for Liquor and Shame Subject: asdf
While my update is still coming up tomorrow, there may be cause in the near future where I won't be around for a while. I won't get into it for personal reasons, and I'm hoping it won't occur, but I'll keep you posted.
As of this moment, feel assured the game will continue until the end of time, so NO SLACKING!