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+--- Thread: Little Slice of Hell (/showthread.php?tid=175430)
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Little Slice of Hell - Hemlocke - 12-13-2019
Alcatraz Depot: Main Hall
Alcatraz was well known for being the most dangerous home of any pack in Liberty space, prone to explosions, stray bullets and quite a number of stabbings, the Alcatraz Rogues respective to the base itself were equally as well known. Some of the most vicious and crude killers the Liberty Underworld had to offer, maybe not the most efficient, but for sure deadly.
Bustling about were a wide arrange of rogues, an odd corpse or two floating just outside airlocks, Hemlocke stood silently, leaned against a wall, accompanied by a few of his loyal rogues to keep the crowds away from him, stood cross legged and armed, scanning the hall with his dark brown human eye, and his glowing blue left, he wasn't exactly hard to spot as he awaited the newly christened rogue recruit he had spoken to a few hours prior.
RE: Little Slice of Hell - Yazov - 12-13-2019
It was not long before the space outside of Alcatraz came in motion - at least, slightly above the common level that it's inhabitants got used to; two flat-shaped objects: one, horizontal, was slightly ahead, and another, vertical, was behind, apparently chasing after the first one, they took a shape of a Vindicator and a Manta as they approached closer, and that is when the first explosion came off, exposing the pursuing ship, rendering it defenseless for the next ten seconds - that's how long it usually took for the shield generator to recharge. However, it was over before it even came up as another explosive ordnance discharge ravaged the Manta's cockpit and sunk the pilot in space before he could eject an escape pod. Vindicator flipped upside down, taking an evasive maneuver as Manta's lifeless husk flew past, only dragged forward by momentum. It struck the hollowed out asteroid, loosing most of the momentum and joining the corpses floating just outside of the illuminator.
Nothing out of the ordinary have happened outside of Alcatraz, except for the way it was executed. The Vindicator have casually landed on the station.
Jill set her foot on the solid steel floor of the main hall - as bustling as the outside, it was more of a multi-purpose space rather than just an ordinary hangar bay. As the newly christened Rogue walked through it among all kinds of people, she had, at a certain moment, fixated her eyes on a particularly outstanding group - those standing around looked like bodyguard pawns, and the one leaned against the wall... it could not be anyone but him.
Jill approached without hesitation, avoiding occassional locals strolling in her wake, and spoke in a calm, slightly irritated tone, letting out a sigh - obviously, she was pissed.
Nothing out of the ordinary have happened outside of Alcatraz, except for the way it was executed. The Vindicator have casually landed on the station.
Jill set her foot on the solid steel floor of the main hall - as bustling as the outside, it was more of a multi-purpose space rather than just an ordinary hangar bay. As the newly christened Rogue walked through it among all kinds of people, she had, at a certain moment, fixated her eyes on a particularly outstanding group - those standing around looked like bodyguard pawns, and the one leaned against the wall... it could not be anyone but him.
Jill approached without hesitation, avoiding occassional locals strolling in her wake, and spoke in a calm, slightly irritated tone, letting out a sigh - obviously, she was pissed.
"It's a shame i couldn't get a hold of that Hunter's escape pod - his death would have mde so much more sense if it would have happened on the solid ground. Tch, such a waste... How dare they not to eject before i blow their cockpits into pieces! Oh, hello. Looks like i got carried away, and you heard all the blabbering... awkward."
RE: Little Slice of Hell - Hemlocke - 12-13-2019
Hemlocke had his gaze fixated on Jill as she bobbed and weaved through the crowd after the show she put on. Though it was rather hard to impress him. He waved off his loyals as she got close, it would be rather inconvenient if she got shot. His facial expression cold, staring into her eyes as she spoke, he still hadn't moved, His long flowing hair, just as dark brown as his eye fell over each shoulder, his cybernetic left eye shined in a blue hue, with a somewhat polished faceplate below it, presumably hiding a gash. He gave the new Rogue a once over before speaking in his oddly smooth tone and low tone.
"I didn't expect you to be so young... perhaps your looks are deceiving. But you're enthusiastic about killing, suppose you'll fit in around here."
RE: Little Slice of Hell - Yazov - 12-15-2019
Jill - admittedly, for Celeste it was more convenient to embrace that new name, assuming that locals may constantly frown upon it and stomp over her origins; not that she couldn't punish them appropriately - but it was probably better not to stir up something so inconvenient before she earned herself a name among the Rogues. Jill was calm and collected, and did not flinch even for a bit under his heavy gaze, returned it with a curious glare, it was like if she thoroughly inspected him with her eyes only - both of them were, without a doubt, one hundred percent organic.
"Not just any killing, mind you. Death in space is the unsightly fate - cold and meaningless. Leaves no aftertaste whatsoever, like a crude hallucination - you only get to withness it, but not to feel - neither the warmth of the victim's blood. nor their life drifting away, but... that's the gist of it. And that is what i came here looking for: i am not exactly fond of spaceborn killing as you have probably figured out, and thanks to my plain looks it is easy for me to move around as the boots on the ground. That's where Jill will shine for you!"
RE: Little Slice of Hell - Hemlocke - 12-16-2019
Hemlocke listened to her speak of death, a smirk slowly crept upon his cold face, standing up from his leaned position on the wall and letting his hands fall to his sides, he raised an eyebrow as she described it in depth, it would seem she wasn't any mere brute with a pretty face. He turned to face her rather than continuing to look at her from the side, he knew the eyes of a killer, but killers were typically bland people who couldn't appreciate the art of death for what it was. She had surprised him.
"What did you say your name was again? Your real name, not the nickname."
RE: Little Slice of Hell - Yazov - 12-16-2019
Briefly, she smiled, though her expression suddenly changed, as if Hemlocke's question raised some mental injury from her past. It was her turn to raise an eyebrow: was he going to really remember her real name? If so - it was an achievement for a person with such a plain appearance; revealing her mixed expression of joy and despair she have went on with introducing her full name.
"Celeste-Sophie de Belmont. It's okay to cut it down to Celeste, it will be less of a mouthful."
RE: Little Slice of Hell - Hemlocke - 12-16-2019
Hemlocke tapped the butt of the upper curved blade sheathed at his left hip as he thought, pondering her full name and realizing just how outlandish it really sounded. Though she had left an impression on him, he stared at her silently for a moment after her lips fell silent, as if studying her, analyzing the rhythm of her breathing, the beating of her mortal heart. It seemed he snapped out of the trance after a few moments. He repeated her name in a slight accent to mimic her pronunciation of an exceedingly proper, non-libertonian name.
"Celeste-Sophie de Belmont.... Jill...."
Hemlocke watched her for a moment, he was rather observant, overly observant. As if he analyzed every twitch of every muscle in her body at any given moment. He decided to return the favor of giving a full name.
"Josie 'Rose' Hemlocke, Hemlocke for short, Hellhound if you wish to use my title, hound, mutt, dog if you want to die a horribly slow death."
His lips curved up into a grin as he uttered the last words. But he had a question lingering upon his mind.
"Why.... Jill?"
RE: Little Slice of Hell - Yazov - 12-16-2019
For a few moments, Celeste had her eyes fixated at Hemlocke. Her lips twitched, moved slightly, barely notable for human eye - Jill slowly whispered Hellhound's name, as if she wanted to savor it, discover the aftertaste it as a whole will leave for her; somehow - she felt satisfied. Jill rubbed her chin, seemingly lost in thoughts about something, but still answered his question.
"It is for reference to a certain serial killer in the past. They had an exceptional taste for killing and only did their killing in a certain way - with custom-made murder weapon, positioning their victim in a certain way and and leaving a certain word written in blood on the crime scene. Apparently, it caused quite some unrest and attention on the Neural Net, even with various imposers sprawling out over the course of their activity, trying to rensemble their style - in many different ways. They were a very notable person, and i figured i could expropriate the alias and carve that name with my own ways of putting my victims down."
With that, Celeste quickly moved her hand down her hip, her fingers grabbed a thin object and revealed it to Hemlocke, pointing at him with it; what was in her hand looked like a somewhat oversized, thick needle, certainly not used for sewing - though, Hellhounds' imagination would already paint him the picture of how such an uncommon weapon could be used to end one's life.
RE: Little Slice of Hell - Hemlocke - 12-16-2019
Hemlocke's grin faded as gears began turning in his head once more, running through the story a thousand times in his head, over and over again, it sounded familiar, but entirely unknown at the same time. Processing the newly acquired information as he began pondering the multiple branches of the tree being constructed in his mind, all the possibilities and butterfly effects of his chosen next words, however, his elevated state of thinking was swiftly and rudely interrupted as Celeste drew the odd item from her hip with a quick movement, Hemlocke drew the upper sheathed blade quickly, flipping it to his other hand before drawing the second in the same swift motion. Each blade was somewhat thick single sided curved blades which were about a foot in length, sharpened to a point it refracted the blue hue of his cybernetic eye. He stared at Celeste for a moment as if about to strike before slowly lowering the blades, cocking his head to the side as he stared at her like she was crazy, then glanced at the item.
"Tell me... this... Jill.... You don't seem like the kind to obsess over a particular person and cling to them, foreshadowing your entire legacy into a faded mirror of someone else's brutality. Perhaps instead, you're speaking in third person."
Hemlocke held an unbreaking eye contact, considering a rather unique murder weapon had been revealed to him mere moments ago, he was pretty sure he wasn't looking at a mere copycat, he didn't judge her character to be so, but his intuition has been known to fail him on a few previous occasions.
RE: Little Slice of Hell - Yazov - 12-16-2019
Celeste was impressed with a little show Hellhound put up with those knives - her needles, while being certainly no less efficient, was a weapon of one punctual blow, not too effective when it comes to direct confrontation. And that only made things more exciting - every step had to be carefully plotted to avoid such an unpleasant outcome; not that Jill couldn't handle herself in hand-to-hand combat, but still highly preferred her adversaries remaining oblivious of her intentions until the very end. At his assumption she merely grinned, putting the needle back into it's socket.
"Being someone's copycat doesn't even take half a dozen brain cells to put together into the thought process behind staging every killing. That would've made me yet another serial copycat, which would mean i am utterly boring and would've probably been dead the moment i allowed the ignorance of pointing my needle at you. As you have already guessed it..."
With innocent smile, Celeste reached out her index finger to the forthmost edge of the razor sharp blade, putting a little more pressure on it with her fingertip, causing a little disorder as for a few seconds it moved faster than the one in Hemlocke's left hand.
"... i am not a mere copycat, and have my own ways of... handling my victims. Besides, copying someone is both boring and troublesome. Scheming something on your own brings much more satisfaction."