05-28-2007, 09:43 PM
The calamity continued as Spice struggled with his inner pendulum which swayed indecisively, but the abrupt intrusions had become mild for the most part, allowing the cyan soldier to hold himself together. Although, how long could he do so was the question of importance.
His stomach groveled and churned, purring beneath his abdomen as the empty hole bubbled with hunger. Whatever leftover rations he had were depleted at this point, save for a pile of crumbs bouncing around at the base of his survival pack. The makyo?s throat burned of thirst as well. Bringing a flask to his mouth, he waited in suspense as a small droplet leaked out from the cap and dribbled onto his tongue.
?Damnit!? he growled, slamming the flask against the ground in a rage. The poor guy just couldn?t catch a break, but self pity was one thing he didn?t enjoy practicing, so he trotted on without thinking twice on the matter.
Eventually, the white-haired skitsofranic wandered into a small village. The town folk kept a curiously close eye on him; judging from their distant proximity, Spice could tell he was unwelcome, and possibly feared. His stomach suddenly reminded the Makyo of its craving to be stuffed full of juicy meat and watermelon; Spice loved watermelon.
A barrel of fruit snagged his attention as the cyan soldier?s tongue began to slither out from a drooling orifice. Spice rapidly shook his head and stuffed his dangling taster back into its confines; it seemed Licorice wanted to come out and play, but Spice managed to restrain the glutton before he could make a fool of himself.
Cha Chink!
A shotgun cocked beside his ear as the cold steel barrel nudged his temple. The makyo?s eyes crawled to the side and followed the cylinder down to a chubby middle-aged man with a chin-full of facial hair.
?Look, freak. Just getch? yourself outta? here and quit eyeballin? my produce. We?ve had too many of you scavengers roamin? through our parts already; takin? what they will and leavin? without a single coin in return,? the rugged trader demanded as the fellow patrons tucked themselves safely behind boxes and barrels.
Without reply, Spice seized the gun from the man?s hands in a flash; and with a simple squeeze of his palm, the boomstick snapped in two. The cyan warrior?s eyes burned and his brows narrowed. With an aura of fierce, killing intent he snatched the man by his throat and lifted him up from the ground.
The trader?s face flushed beat red and veins protruded from his skin as he gasped for sweet oxygen. However, the Makyo lit up with a sinister expression as the jarring sound of his victim?s wind pipe crushing shot fear into all bystanders.
Spice then stumbled back into the past; or was it into reality? He was unsure for a moment as his eyes refocused and regained composure. The barrel was still placed to his head and a bead of black sweat trickled down the gunman?s dirtied cheek. It was Mace; he was toying with Spice once again, showing him visions of a possible future, luckily the trader?s death was only a vision.
?Harold you buffoon! Put that damned thing down and leave the man alone! It?s not the same one as before I tell you!? the voice of a girl screamed out as a slender woman ran toward the two men. The clerk was reluctant to hand over his weapon, but eventually gave it to the woman.
?My apologies young man; I mistook you for another fellow. Well, you look like a strong boy, would you be interested in helpin? us out? Ya see, there?s been quite a few works of evil these days, including a savage beast that?s been killing all of our animals, and we can?t get no business with no animals. So, are ya interested?? the man ironically requested, considering he was asking for a favor from a man he just held a gun to.
?Not really?? Spice replied with a nonchalant tone.
?We?ll pay ya? real nicely, and you can have all the food ya? want? said the man with obvious desperation. The mentioning of food sparked interest in Spice.
?Color me intrigued??
His stomach groveled and churned, purring beneath his abdomen as the empty hole bubbled with hunger. Whatever leftover rations he had were depleted at this point, save for a pile of crumbs bouncing around at the base of his survival pack. The makyo?s throat burned of thirst as well. Bringing a flask to his mouth, he waited in suspense as a small droplet leaked out from the cap and dribbled onto his tongue.
?Damnit!? he growled, slamming the flask against the ground in a rage. The poor guy just couldn?t catch a break, but self pity was one thing he didn?t enjoy practicing, so he trotted on without thinking twice on the matter.
Eventually, the white-haired skitsofranic wandered into a small village. The town folk kept a curiously close eye on him; judging from their distant proximity, Spice could tell he was unwelcome, and possibly feared. His stomach suddenly reminded the Makyo of its craving to be stuffed full of juicy meat and watermelon; Spice loved watermelon.
A barrel of fruit snagged his attention as the cyan soldier?s tongue began to slither out from a drooling orifice. Spice rapidly shook his head and stuffed his dangling taster back into its confines; it seemed Licorice wanted to come out and play, but Spice managed to restrain the glutton before he could make a fool of himself.
Cha Chink!
A shotgun cocked beside his ear as the cold steel barrel nudged his temple. The makyo?s eyes crawled to the side and followed the cylinder down to a chubby middle-aged man with a chin-full of facial hair.
?Look, freak. Just getch? yourself outta? here and quit eyeballin? my produce. We?ve had too many of you scavengers roamin? through our parts already; takin? what they will and leavin? without a single coin in return,? the rugged trader demanded as the fellow patrons tucked themselves safely behind boxes and barrels.
Without reply, Spice seized the gun from the man?s hands in a flash; and with a simple squeeze of his palm, the boomstick snapped in two. The cyan warrior?s eyes burned and his brows narrowed. With an aura of fierce, killing intent he snatched the man by his throat and lifted him up from the ground.
The trader?s face flushed beat red and veins protruded from his skin as he gasped for sweet oxygen. However, the Makyo lit up with a sinister expression as the jarring sound of his victim?s wind pipe crushing shot fear into all bystanders.
Spice then stumbled back into the past; or was it into reality? He was unsure for a moment as his eyes refocused and regained composure. The barrel was still placed to his head and a bead of black sweat trickled down the gunman?s dirtied cheek. It was Mace; he was toying with Spice once again, showing him visions of a possible future, luckily the trader?s death was only a vision.
?Harold you buffoon! Put that damned thing down and leave the man alone! It?s not the same one as before I tell you!? the voice of a girl screamed out as a slender woman ran toward the two men. The clerk was reluctant to hand over his weapon, but eventually gave it to the woman.
?My apologies young man; I mistook you for another fellow. Well, you look like a strong boy, would you be interested in helpin? us out? Ya see, there?s been quite a few works of evil these days, including a savage beast that?s been killing all of our animals, and we can?t get no business with no animals. So, are ya interested?? the man ironically requested, considering he was asking for a favor from a man he just held a gun to.
?Not really?? Spice replied with a nonchalant tone.
?We?ll pay ya? real nicely, and you can have all the food ya? want? said the man with obvious desperation. The mentioning of food sparked interest in Spice.
?Color me intrigued??