Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25686329-20150806065755/@comment-25686329-20150814160913

Ticktania gasped and reeled. The paintball had hit her on her right side, creating a bright splatter of paint right below the waist.. That hit was by no means a kill shot, but a few more well-placed shots could end her.

Ticktania's pistol was in her hand in a flash, barking a few shots to at least make the sniper's duck.

It took her a second to spot them; they were well hidden.

Just what the heck were those students thinking? Making an enemy out Two Sheriffs and and a couple of Psychopaths!?

"SNIPER!" She barked. "Get down!"

She dove, slid around a convienently placed low stone wall for cover, and prayed the others would have the good sense to do the same.

"Scythe...!" she called out.

- - -

The Yankee had mixed feelings at this point.

He once met a young man called Flood, from whom he learned several valuable lessons about the world. One of which Yankee learned when Flood claimed that a young Cossack girl had instilled in him the desire to look out for ones'-self, while not forgetting your own humanity and optimism.

Somewhere in the dark, locked off areas of his head, Yankee was taking Flood's advice and looking at the bright side. But, a part of him still weighed the negative that came with each positive.

Positive: He was wearing enough covering for him to not qualify as 'out'. Negative: His hat and jacket (not his favorite jacket) were now ruined, stained pink and would have to be removed, which would remove one more layer of protection.

Positive: He had just shot Nicole Knightley dead where she stood for being a traitorous sellout, looking like a Author-Grimned madman as he did so, and even managed to deliver a one-liner before the gun went off. That was cool. Negative: Knowing Sandra, she planned for that, and he had just set off the mousetrap. The paint made that very clear.

Positive: Still, Nicole Knightley was out. Negative: If the Yankee wasn't careful, he'd be joining her.

Positive: He hadn't seen Marlene in YEARS and wasn't even aware she came to this school, but that didn't matter because he was going to shoot so many farging holes in her she'd look like a Connect 4 board '. 'Negative:  ''Again, that's probably what Sandra wanted.

"...YOU!?" The Yankee boomed.

The Yankee shedded the coat and hat with a single, almost unnatural or deliberately practiced movement, returning the revolver to the holster almost as smoothly.

There were a few flecks of paint littering Yankee's collarbone shoulders, hair and the like, but it almost seemed to ... wreathe him like flame more than it demeaned him. At least, with the crazed look in his eye, it did.

Reason... was a word Yankee no longer understood.

The Yankee wrenched out a fake knife, the edge laced with paint for close quarters encounters, and dove for Marlene, wrapping an arm around her in a headlock, the other arm bringing the paint-knife to her neck. He pulled his back as close to the wall as he could dare to ensure no-one came from behind.

Hostage Sitch.

His voice was manic, ragged, eyes darting all over the common room. "Looks like I ain't 'The Kid' anymore...! You can call me Author-Grimn Yankee Cassidy, because I'm dragging as many of you fricker's to Hell with me as I can! GUNS-A BLAZING!"

He surveyed the scene. The chick he had just 'killed' was leaning against the far wall, most of his assailants were above him, and probably had more up their sleeves.

This was no Alamo, but he'd take it.

(( Also, I totally imagine either the Finale of the 1812 overture or this song playing during this scene.))

- - -

Fizz heard noise coming from up the hallway.

Dang, time already?

She motioned for the guards to follow her, and paged their replacements to come to the front gates.

The two guards flanking her, she made her way down the hallway to investigate. She heard the Yankee's voice coming from somewhere near the common room, sounding absurdly evil. She had a vague recollection of this Merlin girl approaching her in her office, asking for a favor, asking for assistance, and something about following orders.

She couldn't seem to recall how that conversation ended.

Hm, maybe the two were connected.

She advanced towards the door and looked through the window. Well, looked AT the window. She saw (well, admired) only her own reflection for a few moments. She loved her outfit.

Wait, no, hang on, you're here for a different reason. She now looked through the window. There was Yankee... taking that Merlin girl hostage.

Oh.

Huh. Fizz was fairly sure she had been seen, I mean, the Merlin girl was looking right at her. What was she supposed to do again?