Hound55
Byfar The Most Evil Thing
- Joined
- May 25, 2009
- Messages
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Just thought it would be easier to have somewhere where you can just look up any one character's posts to maintain continuity:
There's quite a lot to get through so this is a rather big work in progress...
If some of the pics and clips are making this too clunky I might start leaving them out to make room for text.
Working in terms of appearance...
The Citizen:
__________________
There's quite a lot to get through so this is a rather big work in progress...
If some of the pics and clips are making this too clunky I might start leaving them out to make room for text.
Working in terms of appearance...
The Citizen:
THE CITIZEN
PROLOGUE
VIDEO-CLick to Watch!:
"David McDonald is an American."
"I grew up in a little place called Moorestown. It's about halfway in-between Lost Haven and Steelhammer."
"David McDonald is a team player."
"Being captain of my high school's football team was one of the greatest experiences in my life. I really learned what it was like to lead your men into battle, and what it was like to know they had your back."
"David McDonald is a patriot."
"I just feel this need to go out there and serve my country. So, right after high school, I signed up for the Navy. It's still the best decision I've ever made."
"David McDonald is a family man."
"Oh, I love my wife very dearly. I've known her since she was a cheerleader in high school. We knew we were going to be together ever since."
"David McDonald is a role model."
"I don't care if the people vote for me or my competitor. I just want people to get out there and vote. We live in a country with a great political system, but it relies heavily on the participation of the people."
"Will David McDonald be your Governor? Vote McDonald."
"I'm just one man - doing the best I can. But if we are all just one man - or one woman, or one child - and we all do the best we can, we're going to change the world."
-Paid for by friends of David McDonald.
PROLOGUE
VIDEO-CLick to Watch!:
"David McDonald is an American."
"I grew up in a little place called Moorestown. It's about halfway in-between Lost Haven and Steelhammer."
"David McDonald is a team player."
"Being captain of my high school's football team was one of the greatest experiences in my life. I really learned what it was like to lead your men into battle, and what it was like to know they had your back."
"David McDonald is a patriot."
"I just feel this need to go out there and serve my country. So, right after high school, I signed up for the Navy. It's still the best decision I've ever made."
"David McDonald is a family man."
"Oh, I love my wife very dearly. I've known her since she was a cheerleader in high school. We knew we were going to be together ever since."
"David McDonald is a role model."
"I don't care if the people vote for me or my competitor. I just want people to get out there and vote. We live in a country with a great political system, but it relies heavily on the participation of the people."
"Will David McDonald be your Governor? Vote McDonald."
"I'm just one man - doing the best I can. But if we are all just one man - or one woman, or one child - and we all do the best we can, we're going to change the world."
-Paid for by friends of David McDonald.
THE CITIZEN
It's funny. Y'know, you make one passing mention that your wife was an art major in college, and they shut down the whole museum for a private tour. I guess position comes with privileges. And the best part? I haven't even been elected yet. Sure, I'm not the President or anything, but I can live with it. Besides, a couple years down the road, anything is possible.
Wow, listen to me getting ahead of myself! I'm not even the Governor of Maine yet, and I'm looking to the White House! I guess this isn't really reflecting my modest, humble upbringing, is it? I tend to get carried away at times. Just ask Katherine.
"Honey, look! It's beautiful, isn't it?" Katherine asks excitedly while pointing to a painting. I don't even bother to look at the painting. None of this art stuff means anything to me. It's just a bunch of paint on a canvas. Instead, I gaze happily at my wife.
Wow, listen to me getting ahead of myself! I'm not even the Governor of Maine yet, and I'm looking to the White House! I guess this isn't really reflecting my modest, humble upbringing, is it? I tend to get carried away at times. Just ask Katherine.
"Honey, look! It's beautiful, isn't it?" Katherine asks excitedly while pointing to a painting. I don't even bother to look at the painting. None of this art stuff means anything to me. It's just a bunch of paint on a canvas. Instead, I gaze happily at my wife.
"Yes, it certainly is," I respond distantly. I tend to ask myself on a fairly regular basis: how? How did I end up with a woman like this? What did I do to deserve such a pleasant fate?
I'm shaken from my wondering by a faint tug on my arm. Katherine has moved on to the next piece. I swear, she's like a kid in a candy store. I'm so glad I was able to arrange this for her. We rarely get a night out without disruptions, so to be able to walk around the museum with no one but the curator around - it's a real treat. Even the curator has kept his distance, letting us explore freely.
"You seem tense," Katherine announces suddenly without looking away from the next painting.
I shrug nonchalantly. "I have a lot on my mind," I explain. "You, of all people, know that."
Katherine nods concernedly. "I always say that you're going to give yourself a heart attack before you even find out the election results."
Unfortunately, it's the truth. I worry so much - even though the numbers have been in my favor for quite some time. Everyone assures me that I'm going to win, but I can't know 100% until Election Day. Needless to say, the wait is killing me.
"When we get back home, I'm going to start a nice hot bath for the both of us," Katherine purrs.
I spin her around and embrace her in my arms. "Why, Mrs. McDonald, I'm certain that you're not suggesting anything," I whisper.
"Well..."
I'm shaken from my wondering by a faint tug on my arm. Katherine has moved on to the next piece. I swear, she's like a kid in a candy store. I'm so glad I was able to arrange this for her. We rarely get a night out without disruptions, so to be able to walk around the museum with no one but the curator around - it's a real treat. Even the curator has kept his distance, letting us explore freely.
"You seem tense," Katherine announces suddenly without looking away from the next painting.
I shrug nonchalantly. "I have a lot on my mind," I explain. "You, of all people, know that."
Katherine nods concernedly. "I always say that you're going to give yourself a heart attack before you even find out the election results."
Unfortunately, it's the truth. I worry so much - even though the numbers have been in my favor for quite some time. Everyone assures me that I'm going to win, but I can't know 100% until Election Day. Needless to say, the wait is killing me.
"When we get back home, I'm going to start a nice hot bath for the both of us," Katherine purrs.
I spin her around and embrace her in my arms. "Why, Mrs. McDonald, I'm certain that you're not suggesting anything," I whisper.
"Well..."
WEEEOOOOOWEEEOOOOO!
Alarms. That can't be good. Katherine and I break our embrace and begin looking around nervously. Did we accidentally touch something? That would be our luck. We get a private tour of the museum, and we do something wrong. God, I can see the headlines now. I scan the room we're in for the curator, but he's not here.
"What's going on, Dave?" Katherine shouts over the noise of the alarm. She's holding her ears to protect them.
"I don't know!" I yell back.
That's when I see him. A dark, shadowy figure at the opposite end of the large room. I can tell by his stance and appearance that he's not the curator. It looks like the alarm wasn't an accident. There's a fourth person in the museum.
The figure pauses when he sees that he's not alone. He appears unsure of what to do - and unarmed, luckily. In his hand, he holds a burlap sack. How cliché. He stands completely frozen, sizing us up almost. That's when I realize what's going on. I turn around and see a Exit sign behind me. Katherine and I are the only thing standing in the way of his escape. Now what do I do?
In the center of the room, three large sculptures stand. They nearly separate the room into two halves, and there are benches placed at the foot of each sculpture. The robber dashes for the opposite side of the sculptures to put distance between himself and Katherine and I. I guess he didn't expect me to do what I then did. Hell, I didn't expect me to do what I did.
Sprinting for the exit, I cut off the robber's escape. I don't know what's come over me, but I can't allow this guy to just run away. When the robber pauses, I realize that I have no clue what I'm doing. I'm no cop! Sure, I was in the Navy, but that didn't really prepare me for anything like this. I find myself thanking the lucky stars that this guy isn't armed.
The robber tries to deke me out, but I think back to my football days. As a quarterback, I had to learn to read incoming would-be-sackers. They would always try to fake one way and cut around the other. This is exactly what this guy is trying. However, my football experience never taught me what to do next. On the field, you're trying to dodge the hit. Now, I'm trying to cause it. As if some inner linebacker took over my body, I hunch down and tackle this guy around the waist. We collapse on the ground, and I hear Katherine shrieking in the background.
I hold the robber down, hoping that the curator isn't far away. I look over at the burlap sack lying on the ground. I hope that nothing in there broke as a result of the fall. I'd never forgive myself.
"There you are!" the old curator announces. His outburst breaks my concentration just enough to give the robber an opening. He tosses and turns until he's free of my grasp. Then, he gets up and runs through the exit - minus his burlap sack.
"I should go after him," I announce.
The curator waves me off. "The alarm signaled the police. They'll probably catch him on their way here. Besides, you saved the artifacts," the curator explains gratefully. He smiles at me from behind his bifocals.
"Artifacts?" Katherine repeats.
The curator nods. "Oh, yes, I found him in the American History section - grabbing all kinds of priceless artifacts." The curator bends down and picks up the bag. He starts to rummage carefully through it. "Though, in some cases, I think his motives were more than monetary."
I arch an eyebrow. "What gives you that impression?" I inquire. It was always my understanding that criminals stole to get rich.
"He tried to steal the Amulet," the curator replies, drawing a star on a necklace from the sack. He holds it out for Katherine and I to see. "The Amulet is purported to give mystical abilities to the one who wears it."
Some old superstition? I really doubt that's what this robber was after. I bet he just figured that all of this stuff could go for a lot of money. I don't think he was trying to obtain 'mystical abilities.'
"The Amulet dates back to the Jamestown colony," the curator begins. "The Amulet was a gift to the colonists from the Powhatan Indians. It is carved out of deer bone, and the Powhatan allegedly performed a spell on it - to give it those mystical abilities. Legend says that Betsy Ross used stars on the flag because of this Amulet."
As the curator continues his story, he hands the Amulet to me. Katherine moves in close to examine the artifact with me. I must say, this is an intriguing tale - even if it does sound like a bunch of superstitious crap. You can't perform a 'spell' on an object and give it 'abilities.' That kind of thing just doesn't happen.
"The Amulet has been preserved and passed down for generations. George Washington wore it when he crossed the Delaware. Abraham Lincoln wore it when he gave the Gettysburg Address. General MacArthur wore it when he went to the Philippines. Eventually, it wound up here - and we kept it safe. Until tonight, apparently."
The curator frowns at his last statement. I can tell that tonight wasn't one of his proudest moments. Even so, disaster was avoided.
"I hope that you don't mind if - under the circumstances - I decide to close up for the night," the curator adds.
"Of course not," I insist.
Katherine explains, "We were just about done anyway."
The curator smiles. "Well then, I need to go explain what happened to the police. If you don't want any publicity for this, I can explain that the robber dropped the bag when he realized that the museum wasn't empty."
I contemplate it for a moment. Being able to say that I stopped a robbery would be great publicity, but at this point - I've just about had it with all the media attention.
Looking to Katherine, she seems to echo the sentiment.
"I'd really rather not have to answer a lot of questions for the police and the media. Katherine and I are tired."
The curator nods.
"Take your time. There's no need to leave right this second."
And with that, he turns on his heels to go to the main entrance where - I presume - the police have begun to arrive.
"What a night, huh?" Katherine asks once the curator has left.
"Yeah. What a night."
"What's going on, Dave?" Katherine shouts over the noise of the alarm. She's holding her ears to protect them.
"I don't know!" I yell back.
That's when I see him. A dark, shadowy figure at the opposite end of the large room. I can tell by his stance and appearance that he's not the curator. It looks like the alarm wasn't an accident. There's a fourth person in the museum.
The figure pauses when he sees that he's not alone. He appears unsure of what to do - and unarmed, luckily. In his hand, he holds a burlap sack. How cliché. He stands completely frozen, sizing us up almost. That's when I realize what's going on. I turn around and see a Exit sign behind me. Katherine and I are the only thing standing in the way of his escape. Now what do I do?
In the center of the room, three large sculptures stand. They nearly separate the room into two halves, and there are benches placed at the foot of each sculpture. The robber dashes for the opposite side of the sculptures to put distance between himself and Katherine and I. I guess he didn't expect me to do what I then did. Hell, I didn't expect me to do what I did.
Sprinting for the exit, I cut off the robber's escape. I don't know what's come over me, but I can't allow this guy to just run away. When the robber pauses, I realize that I have no clue what I'm doing. I'm no cop! Sure, I was in the Navy, but that didn't really prepare me for anything like this. I find myself thanking the lucky stars that this guy isn't armed.
The robber tries to deke me out, but I think back to my football days. As a quarterback, I had to learn to read incoming would-be-sackers. They would always try to fake one way and cut around the other. This is exactly what this guy is trying. However, my football experience never taught me what to do next. On the field, you're trying to dodge the hit. Now, I'm trying to cause it. As if some inner linebacker took over my body, I hunch down and tackle this guy around the waist. We collapse on the ground, and I hear Katherine shrieking in the background.
I hold the robber down, hoping that the curator isn't far away. I look over at the burlap sack lying on the ground. I hope that nothing in there broke as a result of the fall. I'd never forgive myself.
"There you are!" the old curator announces. His outburst breaks my concentration just enough to give the robber an opening. He tosses and turns until he's free of my grasp. Then, he gets up and runs through the exit - minus his burlap sack.
"I should go after him," I announce.
The curator waves me off. "The alarm signaled the police. They'll probably catch him on their way here. Besides, you saved the artifacts," the curator explains gratefully. He smiles at me from behind his bifocals.
"Artifacts?" Katherine repeats.
The curator nods. "Oh, yes, I found him in the American History section - grabbing all kinds of priceless artifacts." The curator bends down and picks up the bag. He starts to rummage carefully through it. "Though, in some cases, I think his motives were more than monetary."
I arch an eyebrow. "What gives you that impression?" I inquire. It was always my understanding that criminals stole to get rich.
"He tried to steal the Amulet," the curator replies, drawing a star on a necklace from the sack. He holds it out for Katherine and I to see. "The Amulet is purported to give mystical abilities to the one who wears it."
Some old superstition? I really doubt that's what this robber was after. I bet he just figured that all of this stuff could go for a lot of money. I don't think he was trying to obtain 'mystical abilities.'
"The Amulet dates back to the Jamestown colony," the curator begins. "The Amulet was a gift to the colonists from the Powhatan Indians. It is carved out of deer bone, and the Powhatan allegedly performed a spell on it - to give it those mystical abilities. Legend says that Betsy Ross used stars on the flag because of this Amulet."
As the curator continues his story, he hands the Amulet to me. Katherine moves in close to examine the artifact with me. I must say, this is an intriguing tale - even if it does sound like a bunch of superstitious crap. You can't perform a 'spell' on an object and give it 'abilities.' That kind of thing just doesn't happen.
"The Amulet has been preserved and passed down for generations. George Washington wore it when he crossed the Delaware. Abraham Lincoln wore it when he gave the Gettysburg Address. General MacArthur wore it when he went to the Philippines. Eventually, it wound up here - and we kept it safe. Until tonight, apparently."
The curator frowns at his last statement. I can tell that tonight wasn't one of his proudest moments. Even so, disaster was avoided.
"I hope that you don't mind if - under the circumstances - I decide to close up for the night," the curator adds.
"Of course not," I insist.
Katherine explains, "We were just about done anyway."
The curator smiles. "Well then, I need to go explain what happened to the police. If you don't want any publicity for this, I can explain that the robber dropped the bag when he realized that the museum wasn't empty."
I contemplate it for a moment. Being able to say that I stopped a robbery would be great publicity, but at this point - I've just about had it with all the media attention.
Looking to Katherine, she seems to echo the sentiment.
"I'd really rather not have to answer a lot of questions for the police and the media. Katherine and I are tired."
The curator nods.
"Take your time. There's no need to leave right this second."
And with that, he turns on his heels to go to the main entrance where - I presume - the police have begun to arrive.
"What a night, huh?" Katherine asks once the curator has left.
"Yeah. What a night."
__________________
Nice job
