Re: DEATHGAME 9000 [S!3] Round One: Gamexus X99
02-15-2012, 10:02 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by momatoes.
The mug made a thud against the wooden counter. Jolene's father's face was a perfect mask of fright, aimed at this stranger who was different from the Jolly that he knew. That he loved.
"I'm going, and I'm sorry, but you're not stopping me," Jolene spoke. Her voice, measured and controlled, with barely a hint of the seething anger inside, bounced throughout the kitchen. It was a gritting voice, if voices could grit the same way teeth did. It was a painful voice.
"Peter, I'm 30. Get real, I'm sorry. Thank you for your concern, but I'm old enough to take care of myself." Jolene didn't like it, but who did? Putting your parents in place was a thing for their parents, the grandfathers and grandmothers who were somehow always wiser, kinder, more sensitive. That was what her father used to be for her. But now all he was was an old, wizened husk, frightened of his own daughter, much less of her power. Which she fullly planned on using to hunt down Hummingbee.
Jolene cradled her mug on her wrinkled hands. God knows going after serial killers on your own counts as being 'rogue'. She'll probably receive a phone call from her old chief, soon after the news flash of her success. Jolene smiled, anger forgotten. It'll be worth it just for his reaction.
She blinked. Back to the present, to her father childishly trying to stop her from doing her job. Jolene stretched, smoothly reached out for the gun, and holstered it, all in one motion. "I'm going," she said, softly this time. Jolene Kamiensky was ready.
Piotr Kamiensky bowed his head down, and mumbled. It must have been an inaudible secret, a magic spell of sorts, because before Jolene could reply or understand, the world exploded.
-------
Reassembled, reconstructed. Jolene tried to steady herself -- until she realized she couldn't move. Their captor seemed to be the man with orange skin, smiling with the generic affable intent of a TV show host. "Who are you?" she wanted to ask, but the thing that stopped them from moving continued its presence. Jolene would've feared that it stopped her thoughts too, had she not known, for sure, that she was angry. Stressed, baffled, lost, yes, but also angry. Again.
'The Amazing' banished them away without so much as a farewell present.
-------
"Who are you?" she boomed, hands moving at the ready --
Wait. Where was she?
The orange man was gone, the other 'contestants' were gone, and she seemed to be...driving a car. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel, instead of the gun she had hoped to use as leverage. The seat was plush, new, and smelled of good leather. A friendly pine tree air freshener waved its fir at her. It was night outside, and the sudden silence of the road made Jolene even more tense than usual.
"He did something to me," she thought. "Where am I? What's going on? Why -"
"You're stuck here." Jolene froze. Her eyes drifted upwards to the rearview mirror.
Ah.
It was a double. Nice of her to accompany Jolene on this solitary journey. The ex-police officer shook her head, trying to ignore the sudden tremor in her hands. Staring back at the road, she said, deadpan, "Whatever the case, I'm finding a way out of here."
"Suit yourself," the Other replied. It smiled at her, rows and rows of pointy teeth illuminated by an approaching overhead road sign. Jolene looked up to read it. "5km to Raccoon City, huh? Well. Maybe I'll get some answers." She tightened her hold on the wheel, determined.
As she zoomed along the road, it struck her with a painful pang that she should have listened to her dad after all.
The mug made a thud against the wooden counter. Jolene's father's face was a perfect mask of fright, aimed at this stranger who was different from the Jolly that he knew. That he loved.
"I'm going, and I'm sorry, but you're not stopping me," Jolene spoke. Her voice, measured and controlled, with barely a hint of the seething anger inside, bounced throughout the kitchen. It was a gritting voice, if voices could grit the same way teeth did. It was a painful voice.
"Peter, I'm 30. Get real, I'm sorry. Thank you for your concern, but I'm old enough to take care of myself." Jolene didn't like it, but who did? Putting your parents in place was a thing for their parents, the grandfathers and grandmothers who were somehow always wiser, kinder, more sensitive. That was what her father used to be for her. But now all he was was an old, wizened husk, frightened of his own daughter, much less of her power. Which she fullly planned on using to hunt down Hummingbee.
Jolene cradled her mug on her wrinkled hands. God knows going after serial killers on your own counts as being 'rogue'. She'll probably receive a phone call from her old chief, soon after the news flash of her success. Jolene smiled, anger forgotten. It'll be worth it just for his reaction.
She blinked. Back to the present, to her father childishly trying to stop her from doing her job. Jolene stretched, smoothly reached out for the gun, and holstered it, all in one motion. "I'm going," she said, softly this time. Jolene Kamiensky was ready.
Piotr Kamiensky bowed his head down, and mumbled. It must have been an inaudible secret, a magic spell of sorts, because before Jolene could reply or understand, the world exploded.
-------
Reassembled, reconstructed. Jolene tried to steady herself -- until she realized she couldn't move. Their captor seemed to be the man with orange skin, smiling with the generic affable intent of a TV show host. "Who are you?" she wanted to ask, but the thing that stopped them from moving continued its presence. Jolene would've feared that it stopped her thoughts too, had she not known, for sure, that she was angry. Stressed, baffled, lost, yes, but also angry. Again.
'The Amazing' banished them away without so much as a farewell present.
-------
"Who are you?" she boomed, hands moving at the ready --
Wait. Where was she?
The orange man was gone, the other 'contestants' were gone, and she seemed to be...driving a car. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel, instead of the gun she had hoped to use as leverage. The seat was plush, new, and smelled of good leather. A friendly pine tree air freshener waved its fir at her. It was night outside, and the sudden silence of the road made Jolene even more tense than usual.
"He did something to me," she thought. "Where am I? What's going on? Why -"
"You're stuck here." Jolene froze. Her eyes drifted upwards to the rearview mirror.
Ah.
It was a double. Nice of her to accompany Jolene on this solitary journey. The ex-police officer shook her head, trying to ignore the sudden tremor in her hands. Staring back at the road, she said, deadpan, "Whatever the case, I'm finding a way out of here."
"Suit yourself," the Other replied. It smiled at her, rows and rows of pointy teeth illuminated by an approaching overhead road sign. Jolene looked up to read it. "5km to Raccoon City, huh? Well. Maybe I'll get some answers." She tightened her hold on the wheel, determined.
As she zoomed along the road, it struck her with a painful pang that she should have listened to her dad after all.