The Night He Came Home

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by BarrenThin, Jun 27, 2016.

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  1. The city was on fire. Not in any literal sense, of course, much to Reaper's chagrin. The sound of the concert below could be heard for quite a ways, and it was definitely annoyingly loud from his perch above the stadium. The Gorrilaz. What a brain-dead name for a band. They weren't why he was here, though. No. His skull mask scanned the crowd in his silent loathing. Where was she? The little twerp that had caused him so much trouble. Lena Oxton. It would take him some time to survey the crowd, and he'd strike the moment he found her.

    He'd waited a long time for this chance.

    Eventually, his eyes rested on just the sight he was looking for. There Lena was, looking the same as she did the day she joined Overwatch. She stood at the front, cheering on her boyfriend. "I've got my eyes on her. Stay out of this." Before the Talon agents could respond, he smashed the communicator to cut off any objections. Time to go. He crossed his arms, and appeared on the stage. "Death comes." The group paused, of course. Just in time for the lead singer to almost get his head blown off, barely ducking in time. Screams filled the air as people began to run. Music to his ears.

    Now, that's not very nice!" The familiar sound of Pulse guns firing filled his ear. Reaper leaned forward with a growl, the shots doing little more than angering him at this distance. Tracer was teleporting everywhere already. Good. He wanted her to fight back so her squirming would be all the more satisfying.

    Little did he know that a nearby force awakening would have plans of its own...

    @shitty first posts
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  2. [​IMG]

    "O-Oi mate! We can talk this over can't we!? Over a couple of pints, eh ehhhhh?!"

    Didn't seem like this bloke in the-admittedly pretty cool looking-mask was going to sit down and have some fish'n chips over this whole thing! 2-D wasn't made out for this kind of thing! Russel had warned him that when he started dating Lena it'd only invite danger onto him! Because what's a better hostage than a celebrity? Especially one that was dating a hero, specially one as famous as Tracer! But 2-D genuinely loved the lass and Murdoc told them it'd give the band plenty of publicity if 2-D got 'napped by a known baddie! Murdoc always knew best so who was 2-D to question him?

    But this didn't mean that 2-D knew what to do when shotguns were being fired his way! Swiftly diving out of the way and hiding behind one of his band's bass speakers, 2-D clutched at tufts of his naturally blue hair and tried to think of some way out of this! He wasn't some kind of superhero himself! He couldn't just march out towards this bugger with his microphone stand and bash him over the head.

    Or could he? 2-D put a hand to his chin as he thought over the scenario.


    "OI MATE!"

    *Reaper proceeds to shoot 2-D through the chest*



    "EEEEEEK! No, no, no being a hero. That's what the real ones are for. But what would Murdoc do..?"

    "He'd be getting the hell outta dodge, ya bleedin twat. Heh heh heh..."

    "...Yeah, that sounds like Murdoc. Wait a moment, Murdoc?!" 2-D quickly peeked up from behind the speaker and saw Murdoc in the Gorillaz's limousine with Russel and Noodle already safely inside. 2-D in a moment of usual ditizness smiled at the notion that his friends were safe. Rather than y'know getting up and sprinting like a mad man towards the vehicle. Not that Murdoc gave him much of a choice to decide anyway as the limousine quickly began to burn rubber out of there. Watching as the car vanished into the night, 2-D's smile remained.


    "Good chap that Murdoc is."

    As Tracer struggled with Reaper and 2-d struggled with a basic thought process, another entity was making it's way upon the scene. That entity was known simply as 'The Shape' to most people, 'The Bogeyman' to others. But his family(little as it was) knew him as:

    Michael Myers.

    The notorious serial killer with an affinity for hunting down members of his family had his reign mainly during the late 70s-mid 90s. After that point, he was deemed far too dangerous to simply keep locked up in a cell somewhere. So when the technology became available, who better to test it on than a man who had been said by many to 'be unable to die.' and so Michael Myers became the first killer to be put into stasis as punishment for his crimes. He was supposed to have stayed in there for years and he had. But technology had to fail at some point.

    It's just unfortunate that the technology n this case was the only thing preventing a supernatural serial killer from going on another rampage. As the stasis machine began to fail, most of the technicians on duty simply believed it was a minor issue that didn't require immediate attention. It wouldn't be until Michael had broken out and left a path of bodies with crushed heads and torn apart limbs that they realized it'd been more than just a 'minor' issue.

    Michael for his part didn't care what time he was in. Death was still death as far as he knew. But for someone who was already mentally unwell, years of being locked up in what amounted to basically a frozen box for years on end tore apart whatever meager vestiges of sanity that might have resided within Michael's abode. Which is what drew him to our current conflict. Catching a brief glimpse of the battle from a TV he passed in the hallway, Michael likely would have paid it very little mind. It was after all just another distraction from killing. But then a familiar face appeared on the screen. Or at least it looked like one to Michael's shattered mind.

    The woman on screen in reality was none other than the hero Tracer. But in Michael's cold dark eyes, she was none other than his half sister Laurie Strode. So, she had managed to stay alive all this time had she? Grabbing a hunting knife of a body he passed, Michael went about to find his mask and make his new arrival back to the world...


    @BarrenThin @sorryforthelateresponse!
    • Bucket of Rainbows Bucket of Rainbows x 1
  3. The fight was long. It was hard.

    Reaper was vaguely aware of 2-D as the battle raged. Of course, the idea of using him as bait should this go south had certainly crossed his mind. He fired off his shotguns at the wildly teleporting Tracer. "You always were an annoying brat." He growled in frustration as she continued to avoid his shots. The harassing shots brought him to his knees, then laid him out flat. His anger grew, as did his hunger.

    On the other end, Lena was caught between fear for 2-D's life and the thrill of the fight. "Woohoo! What's the matter, love? Can't see out your mask?" Her grin was wide and wild as she brought Reaper down. For a moment, a single, triumphant moment, she saw sweet victory. But, then... Wait, how was he getting up? She was so caught off guard that she momentarily just stopped.

    Once again on his feet, Reaper cracked his neck noisily. "You look like you've seen a ghost." He discarded the empty shotguns and drew new ones from what seemed like nowhere, though he didn't immediately open fire. She did, though he wraith formed several feet away. "I take it you don't recognize me. Fine. I don't blame you. I guess I'll have to give you a wake up call." His eyes shifted to none other than 2-D.


    "Hey there, rock star. Can I get an autograph?"


    Lena blinked as she saw Reaper aim and let loose at someone she cared about. Panic washed over her mind as time seemed to slow down, her heart pulsing in her ears. She blinked over, shoving 2-D out of the way and almost getting clear, but... Her time matrix was caught. It wasn't destroyed, thank god, but the pulse of energy left her both in pain and utterly helpless. An ominous chuckle was cast from across the stage as Reaper stalked over. "
    You're as hopeless as that damn ingrate." He raised his gun for the killing blow.

    This fight was over.

    He'd won.


    #3 BarrenThin, Jul 1, 2016
    Last edited: Jul 2, 2016

  4. [​IMG]

    "Well, see ya Murdoc! I'll catch you blokes later back at the flat!" 2-D called after his companions before glancing back and seeing he suddenly had a shotgun pointed his way. Oh, well that wasn't good. That wasn't very good at all. Needless to say it hadn't been the first time 2-D's life was on the line. Though this had to be at the top of the list in being the scariest attempt so far. Not much really topped being threatened by a man in a intimidating costume wielding two massive firearms.

    2-D's entire body shook like a leaf as he held his hands up. If this was indeed his time to go then he'd try his best to face it like a man. An admirable attitude and one that certainly would have showed 2-D's British stiff upper lip. But the shot never came. At least not at him. 2-D was sent careening off the stage and onto the arena floor as he glanced up.


    2-D was an idiot by all accounts of the word but even he knew a bad move! Sure, she had saved him! But who was going to save her? 2-D thought of trying to do it himself but he had already played that out in his head. It'd end up with him having a few more dents in his head, his limbs, his torso, etc. As 2-D felt someone bump up behind him though, the singer quickly turned and clung to the newcomer's chest while falling to his knees.



    2-D went dead quiet as he got a good look at who he was clinging at. 2-D didn't like to watch the news often because most of what was said was often really depressing. He just liked it when the funnies came on and he could watch those for as much as he wanted. Nothing better than sitting on the couch in your knickers watching two blokes tell eachother off in varying degrees of intensity. But he knew well enough who the figure in the blue work coveralls was and the haunting white mask he wore. No eyes were visible through the mask as if 2-D was staring into a blank slate. The hunting knife in his hand didn't look too inviting neither. Or the fact that he must have been at least seven feet tall.

    Gripping 2-d by the neck, Michael started forward. There were no real names to be put to those whom got in his way. Their identities didn't matter so much as the fact that if they got in his way they'd be disposed of. It was obviously a sociopathic way of looking at things but Michael didn't care about being sane. He cared about getting done what needed to be done. Walking forward onto the stage, Michael noticed someone else attempting to kill his 'sister' and that simply wouldn't do. Deciding to try and kill two birds with one stone, Michael whipped 2-d as hard as he could at the other killer. All the while letting no sign of emotion escape his body.



  5. Reaper's shot went wide as 2-D collided with him. The force was enough to save Tracer's life, unfortunately, though not enough to cause any serious harm. He offhandedly smacked 2-D out of the way as he faced the new threat. The Talon agent let out a long, drawn-out sigh. "I just wanted to have dinner in peace." Feasting on 'souls' was one of the only pleasures he took in life. Without giving it much thought, Reaper fired a single shot from his devastating weaponry at the newcomer, fully expecting it to be all this would take. How could he know he was so wrong?

    Tracer, by contrast, was still lying on the ground, grimacing in pain... For now. She felt power returning to the matrix. Maybe she could grab 2-D and get out... Well, that was at the back of her mind at that moment. More immediate was the threat of the crossfire. Taking a moment to breathe, she rolled clear of where the distracted Reaper stood.​
  6. Things seemed to have quickly gone from bad to worse. 2-D hadn't expected Reaper to show up and pick a fight with Tracer. He also hadn't expected to be yanked off his feet by a deranged serial killer and hurled like a human projectile. The fact that he also had the side of a gun smacked into his head really didn't help. Skidding across the floor, 2-D came to a stop as he groaned. He had been involved in two car accidents which gave him his two 'dents' but these last few minutes made him feel a whole hell of a lot worse. But at least Reaper was distracted. Clutching at the side of his head, 2-D crawled towards Tracer.

    "Oi, luv you alright? I'm gonna have a bump the size of Dover later. But we gotta go!" 2-D said as he struggled to try and throw Tracer's arm over his shoulder. He had heard stories about Michael Myers AKA The Shape. People figured he had either died in prison or something. But nobody knew the truth about what had hppened to Michael Myers.


    Quickly falling back down onto his rear as the gun went off, 2-D watched as Michael stopped dead in his tracks. Blood began to run down the front of his coveralls and his grip on the hunting knife seemed tenuous. But 2-D knew too well from the stories that wouldn't be enough to keep Michael down. "I think you just made him mad, mate.." The singer gulped as Michael slowly steadied himself and started to step forward.


    Nobody could stop the Bogeyman.


  7. Reaper paused at that. A low growl of annoyance escaped him. "Alright, then... Repositioning." Crossing his arms over his chest, Reaper once again teleported, appearing almost immediately behind Michael. "We'll see just how tough you are." With adrenaline pumping, Reaper let loose on the encroaching threat. If he was that strong, Reaper would just have to make sure he stayed down, no matter how many shots it took.

    Tracer groaned and did her best to stand with 2-D. "It's nuthin', luv. I'm fine. You need ta get outta here."
  8. "...!"


    As soon as Reapear vanished from Michael's line of sight, the killer quickly turned to re-face him. All the while swinging his knife. With his own inhuman strength, Michael sought to plunge the knife through Reaper's armor. Though even if he had, the positioning had been off to prevent Michael from hitting anything potentially vital. Not to mention that he was going to have his own problems to be dealing with in short order. The shots tore through his uniform. Sending splotches of blood all over the stage and knocking Michael back. But never once did he cry out in pain.

    Michael kept his gaze locked on Reaper the entire time. With his eyes seemingly hidden away in the darkness of his mask, it made the fact that he wasn't going down even more incomprehensible. But 2-D wasn't going to wait around until Michael finally went down. He knew of Michael's rampages and how he always seemed to keep on ticking no matter what was done to him. He just hoped that it was the case here as well. Let these two monsters tear eachother apart.

    "We came into this together, we ain't leavin unless it's together! Now let's go while he's using the bloke as target practice!" 2-D said as he tried to quickly hop off the side of the stage with Tracer in tow and rush for the exit. Michael briefly looked over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of the two fleeing.

    But it didn't matter to him how far they got. The end result would be the same.

    Though it didn't seem like he'd be getting very far with this man continuing to hound him like this. So Michael would have to play along. After the front of his coveralls were absolutely soaked in blood, Michael toppled over onto his back. He was of course perfectly fine. But let this man think he killed him. That'd make it somewhat more satisfying when Michael disposed of him later on.

  9. The knife drew no blood, but it did draw an angry growl from Reaper. "Just... DIE!" Frustration swelled in his voice as his opponent just kept coming again and again and again. He wouldn't be beaten by this punk. When Michael did finally go down, he discarded the guns with a grunt. With nothing but disdain, he spoke. "Rest in peace." His eyes moved over just in time to see Tracer and 2-D going out the door. "Not on my watch." Crossing his arms over his chest, Reaper loomed out in front of them. "Where do you think you're going?" Time for some fun. He'd toy with them for a while before finally getting the revenge he sought. "After all, the show isn't ov- Huh?"

    Tracer, meantime, had been getting sick of this. One more word out of this edgy twerp's mouth, and she's off herself for him. 2-D was here, though, and she had to keep him safe. No matter the cost. So, she shoved her boyfriend back a long ways, then, in the middle of his taunting, threw a sticky pulse bomb right onto Reaper's face. She dove clear just as it exploded, the stunned Reaper not going into Wraith form in time. With a violent scream, black must dissipated everywhere. Maybe he was gone? "C'mon, luv. Gotta go."

  10. [​IMG]

    "Oh cripes, oh cripes, he's down luv! Michael Myers is down! We're as good as done!"

    2-D screeched as he saw Michael finally collapse to the floor. How was that even happening!? Weren't the stories about Myers supposed to make him out to be this Bogeyman like figure and yet some shots from a shotgun put him down for the count? Oh, it wasn't often that 2-D relied on a mass murderer to save his and his girlfriend's hide but now was the time! Clutching tufts of hair on either side of his head, 2-D waited for the inevitable grasp of Death to take him away.

    But it never came. Opening his eyes and lowering his hands, 2-D had seen that Reaper had disappeared and the two of them were still in one piece! Though of course, 2-D didn't know for how long. Clutching tightly onto Tracer's hand, 2-D nodded his head up and down so quickly one might have mistaken him for a bobblehead.

    "Yes, yes let's go! We can wait until this all blows over back at your place!"

    As both hero and singer escaped the ruined concert with their lives, Michael waited until he was sure he was alone. He didn't need another helping of lead after all. Clutching onto the wooden floorboards of the stage until his nails broke at the tips, Michael forced himself to sit up. His coveralls were completely stained with his own blood.


    Not that it really bothered him any. Glancing around for wherever he had dropped his knife in his act, Michael reached out to pick it up. Bringing his bloodsoaked hand to his face, Michael looked over the severe burns that laced his hands and for a matter of fact, the rest of his body. The pain he endured from these grievous burns were what helped drive him. To find his sister and end her life once and for all.

    Still, it wouldn't do him much good if there was someone else competing with him. Trying to take the life that was rightfully his. Hopping down from the stage, Michael headed off to the parking lot. As his eyes scanned the rows of cars, they stopped upon seeing a car who's patron had been either waiting for someone or hadn't realized what had been going down and had fallen asleep in their car. Either way, didn't matter to Michael. Making his way over to the driver's side of the car, Michael reared back his fist and smashed right through the glass.

    The gesture certainly startled the driver who barely had time to turn and gaze in horror at the figure standing before him. Uncaring of the blood dripping from his knuckles, Michael gripped onto the poor soul's neck. Digging his fingernails into the flesh of the man's neck and using his unnatural strength, Michael began to twist and twist. Blood gushed from the puncture wounds his nails were making until Michael gave a sharp yank and practically tore the man's neck wide open.



    Pulling his hand back, Michael forcibly wrenched the door open and calmly unbuckled the driver's seatbelt. Watching as the corpse tumbled off to the side, Michael pulled it out the rest of the way and dropped it to the ground. Making sure to step on the head and crush it under his boot for good measure. Taking a seat within the car, Michael turned the key in the ignition and shut the door.

    He didn't care where he had to go. How long it would take him. His dear sister wouldn't escape from him, not this time.


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