Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25686329-20150806065755/@comment-25686329-20150901234356

The Yankee blinked. He wasn't gonna shoot himself. He was gonna stand the frick back up and take as --

But then...

There was the sound of a hammer being pulled back.

The Yankee paled.

"Deal dies with you, old friend." said a voice. It was mopey, pained, but held a note of... fading happiness somewhere within the fog of its half-melancholic, half-angered tone. The word 'friend' was blatantly sarcastic.

Neitzsche Varanus shot the Yankee in the back.

- - -

It should have been said that the Yankee didn't work alone. The whole reason that the Yankee was so untouchable was that he had made a deal with Nietzsche Varanus; his serivce and prowess in exchange for half the prize money should the Yankee win... It was a strained alliance, to say the least, with each wondering who was going to betray the other first.

Turned out it was Nietzsche.

The Yankee acted as the face of the operation, drew the fire and slung it just as much, while Nietzsche picked off everyone from the shadows.

And Varanus was sick of it.

He looked at the girl before him with a single eye that burned beneath the brim of his hat.

"There was no reason for me to do that for you. No-one else would have.... So, show me a little respect and don't ever return the damned favor."

Varanus slunk back in the shadows. He was out to win.

 THE END 

((I'm discontinuing this thread rather than have the momentum leak out over time, sort of like it already has. Anyway, thanks for playing, everyone, and I'll see all you guys for...

PAINTBALL ASSASSIN III -- PAINTFELLAS

Coming Soon-ish...? You decide!))