tot × guns, Guns! GUNS!!

P:InTheirMinds × tales of the... >>

>> tot × guns, Guns! GUNS!!

12th of Qaripha / 98th c.

doodleville is quiet today, because the calm comes always.

before the storm.

[VOLKA: BATCH FOUR > ELIMINATED.]

"alright... no more targets in sight." a pause. "shit."

Vessel looks over the town.
sniper in hand, on the rooftop but at its edge.
"damn, didn't know the competition was gonna be this
fucked up." "things reset nonethele-" Vessel hitches.
mid-monologue as he turns behind. "well isn't it our
precious little Pierce'her~" the mist clears as Hex
appears; his hands armed with grenades. "HEY HEX!
WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU PLANNING." Vessel yells - at a Hex
that is about to throw grenades in his face. "how,
pathetic... Pierce'her, PATHETIC!"

BAM

BOOM!

Vessel scrambles out —
and then he accidentally kicks the sniper off the roof,
and ends up barely avoiding the explosion. "AVOID THIS,
BITC-" Hex screams at the top of his lungs as he kicks the
explosive right into a startled Vessel's face — a startled
Vessel that is now hurtling at the ground at a velocity
more terminal than a computer running Linux.

debris breaks while Hex looks down expecting a puddle of
fresh Vessel blood. his dark scarf waving in the wind
(fyi: there's no wind blowing.) but Hex's face goes
still at his smirk when he sees — nothing.

not a dead Vessel.

not a puddle of (fresh.) blood.

instead, an angel armed with wings composed purely of guns,
a very pissed-off one to be specific. gun-wings; pointed
right at him. "SKYLA THAT'S TOO EXTR-" no mercy was given,
by her.

by Skylarie Guardia.

and in place of mercy?
a hole between Hex's eyes.

BAAM

[HEX: BATCH TWO > ELIMINATED.]

a voice rings through the town's silence.
"damn Guardia, damn." a coarse voice comes from the
distance. as she turns to investigate, and shoot. armor
clanking softly, she looks.
there's nothing.

"behind you, pigeon-winged bitch."
and then an explosion, then a manic laugh. "fuck."
"I'M STILL ALIVE AIN'T I?" Vessel laughs. (he's also wheezing.)

"foul demon." she comments.

"foul indeed, shotgun." Vessel calls out as he charges at
blinding speed. jumping off and from every nearby surface.

above her.

"thou art fast." Skylarie remarks.

he takes aim.

KABAAM!

Vessel shoots Skyla,

[VESSEL: BATCH ONE > ELIMINATED.]

"but thou art not fast enough."

pop!

the air around the colosseum distorts, again.
here appears the latest loser... why Vessel of course!
"GODESA FUCKING DAMNED IT!!!" he screams at no one in
particular. but loud enough to startle a few other people.
"Pierce'her, you fine?" Vessel looks back at the owner of-
the gloved hand on his shoulder. "well isn't it plague boi
Quazar himself..." Vessel affirms deadpan.
before walking away, that is.

the colosseum is loud, chattering and bantering.
as all the losing OCs wait for the match to finish.
at the top is a screen displaying the match.
Vessel however proceeds to not be social (understandable.)
and sits at an isolated spot near the corner.
while the others cheer the surviving on.

"who do you think's gonna win." Hex ponders, shifting into
a seat next to Vessel. "Skylarie without a single shittin'
doubt.." he replies immediately with a reluctant tone.
a smile widens across Hex's face as he mentions.

"ya' do know that Captain is in the game right?"

"..." Vessel just looks at him for a hot second.

"COMICAL IS PLAYING TOO????"

he flinches back, choking on thin air.
"HOW THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE FAIR?????"
a voice booms through the colosseum, echoing in all ears.

ahem, ahem, "this mic on?"

"oh, wait. that's a prop."

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKK!!!

a mic drops somewhere above—
creating an ear-piercing ringing through all ears.

"what's up, dear OCs?"

the familiar voice announces.

"it's me! yo'r fav announcer and host!"

"you can admit it, Creator isn't here to be angry."

" C R E A T I A ! "

the voice comes in like a hammer to glass.
"today marks the first (and probably last.)
GUN TOURNAMENT in doodleville!" she takes a deep breath.
"organised by yours truly and VESSEL PIERCE'HER! as the
crowd below erupts. "DUDE! you helped??" Hex questions,
enthusiastically grabbing Vessel's shoulder. who then
replies deadpan. "it was my idea you dumbfuck."
"..." "and yeah, if you consider convincing Sky to
participate: "help" then Fffuka's sis over there
did us a favor."

Hex tilts his head continuing to monologue to himself.
"damn — you still call Creator that? quaint." only to get
that menacing glare from Vessel that just says 'i'll-
fucking kill you' (a second time.)
...

[elimination]

"a ballad of murder, macabre in violence."
"dance of bullets and their produced holes." "in the end.
Creatia announces over the mic. "what is it to you?"

"OUR DEAR ANGELS OF DEATH, HERSELF!"

here begins the final death match.

the voice came reverberating through every ear.

"here enter our finalists."

"SKYLARIE GUARDIA."

"CAPTAIN COMICAL."

"SPILL SLIMEWATER."

"and last but not least!" "..."

"BLOXY RGB HYPERES!"

"WHA—!" Vessel flinches as the coffee he was-
peacefully drinking comes out of his nose. wheeze. (friendly
reminder: 'peaceful' — is subjective in doodleville.)
"HOW DID— chokes on air —WHEN, WHY-" surprise cut short to
more announcement. while Hex struggles fighting a chuckle.

"let the gun tournament finale begin!!!"

Creatia screamed into the mic. while on colosseum ground
light circles in perfect circles, then shatter like-
obsidian under a million-trillion suns...
the stadium cheers for the remaining.
guns clank with every step that she takes.
Bloxy too, enters waving at the crowd. and then there's-
Spill: worker at Greed & Gluttony's and now finalist.

three...

two...

one.

the wind howls.
the wind wants legal violence.

SHOOT!

as Skylarie goes into movement.
a gun detaches from her wings as fast as the lunge that-
Spill was taking.

WOOSH!

the sickening thud of the nine thrown, not shot across his
slime body vibrates through the ground and back. Bloxy and
Spill — are already out cold. and then with a loud crack.
that barrier of sound? yeah.

it breaks

as soon as she sprints to Comical.
who, up until now, was eating popcorn (where did he get-
that??) "Now it dynamic rests 'twixt only thee and me,

a deep breath...

"Captain. Pray,

who shall step forth to SAVE THEE NOW?"

Skylarie screams, her fist connecting with Comical's gut.
the crowd collectively holds its breath.

a blur of pristine white and comically light blue.

punch after devastating

shot — through the ground

and into the tremors-

that shake the colosseum into cracks.

the masked dodges and the angel hitches at the constant-
screaming from—! "YESH!!! THAT'S MY BABY! SKYLARIE, KICK
HIS SHIN!" Persyphone, the ever-loudly embarrassing-
woman of a parent, yelled her cheers;

almost falling down, but caught by the collar... by a
familiar hand. "uh, miss Persy? you're pinches his free
hand's fingers together. this close to falling off." Hex
said to a Persyphone dangling over the railing. apparently
more concerned about safety than she was... oh, talking
about her mom, Skyla?
oh~!

CRACK.

the mask splits open... and the one wearing it—was wearing
it, immediately proceeds to burrow his face into the
ground. to hide the — whatever, that was underneath.

"..." the crowd of losers — spectators (heh.) falls silent.

another second passes.

and then—
a gloved hand slowly rises from the dirt.
holding... a comically large white flag. (okay, where is-
he getting all this — NEVERMIND.)

"..."

another beat.

"..."

then a disappointed sigh echoes through the speakers.
"aw..." Creatia vocally deflates. "Captain has...
surrendered." she pauses. "...well that's anticlimactic."
the rest of the town collectively groans.

Vessel shoots upright from his seat accusingly
pointing to Comical: "CAPTAIN YOU FUCKING PUSS-" "..."
"why not?" Comical's muffled voice comes from beneath
the dirt. his voice now surprisingly clearer without
a mask than just — none.

"BECAUSE THAT... well, you know what-"

Vessel struggles to find a counter...

"i don't particularly enjoy punching children."

making a confused Skyla cautiously lower her fists.
"...she's older than you." Vessel deadpans.

"...point remains."

Hex quietly leans toward Vessel, tugging at his sleeve.
"he kinda got ya' the-" "HEX, SHUT THE FUCK UP."

Captain respawns beside. the same unceremonious
lack of fanfare as before, mask somehow perfectly intact.
brushing himself off as if a headfirst dive onto the arena
floor had been no more than a minor inconvenience.

"SKYLARIE!!"

(Persephone doesn't bother with the stairs.)
She slithers down the colosseum wall in one impossibly smooth spiral, wrapping around Skylarie before-
either of them has properly registered what happened.
With one effortless squeeze she hoists her daughter-
clear off the ground.

"My precious girl!" Persyphone beams. "You won! I knew you
would!" wiping a proud (imaginary.) tear-
off her own cheeks.

Skylarie lets out a strangled sound, wings folding and
fluttering awkwardly against the crushing embrace.

"Mother..."

Another squeeze.

"Mother..."

Yet another.

"Mother... thou art crushing mine organs."

"Oh." Persyphone loosens her grip...
for exactly half a second.

"..."

Then promptly hugs her again.

"MY SWEET ANGEL, SHE WON!!!"

"...acceptable."
Skylarie replies.

"and, uh... that dear folks."

Creatia announces through the mic:

"was, the gun tournamen-"

ROLL THE CREDITS—

back>volume.0.home<

"..."

"HEY, DUDE! I WAS ABOUT TO ANNOUNCE THE ENDING!???"

"Creatia, you expect me to write-
another thousand words...?"

"..." "fair."