SpectreT
Knight in Tarnished Armor
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2001
- Posts
- 1,905
OOC: O-kay, let's get this train running! I'll be playing Jim Carson, A man who was going to jail on second degree manslaughter; being a sixth dan in Okinawan Karate, he beat a man to death in an attempt to help a young lady who had a knife to her throat. The judge felt he should have been able to stop the mugging without killing the mugger.
IC: Typical, just bloody typical, I thought to myself as I trudged through new fallen snow. Technically, I was an escaped convict at this point, and I was leaving a trail a confused bat could follow. The prison bus still lay on its roof a good three miles behind me, the two officers hopefully in the ambulance I'd called for before I fled the wreck. By dumb luck, I was the only one in the bus who escaped unharmed. Probably bruised, but otherwise fine. Driver was unconscious, as was Shotgun. Shotgun's pupils were slow to contract, so he probably had a concussion. I managed to scrounge a pocket tool, a flashlight, and my prison shackles. I was wearing a sherriff's department parka, and was beginning to get numb from the cold when I took stock of my surroundings once again. From the looks of it, I'd stumbled across an exclusive college, well hidden in the Upstate foothills. Never one to look a possible gift horse in the mouth, I began perusing the buildings until I found a Maintenance office and locker room. A repair schedule was on the wall, and it seemed that the water heater in one of the north campus dorms was on the blink. Additionaly, it seemed their temporary Maintenance man had filed his fifteen second resignation notice; something about not being paid enough to work through Christmas. I smiled. All too easy. As I was getting dressed in Maintenance coveralls, the phone on the desk began to ring.
IC: Typical, just bloody typical, I thought to myself as I trudged through new fallen snow. Technically, I was an escaped convict at this point, and I was leaving a trail a confused bat could follow. The prison bus still lay on its roof a good three miles behind me, the two officers hopefully in the ambulance I'd called for before I fled the wreck. By dumb luck, I was the only one in the bus who escaped unharmed. Probably bruised, but otherwise fine. Driver was unconscious, as was Shotgun. Shotgun's pupils were slow to contract, so he probably had a concussion. I managed to scrounge a pocket tool, a flashlight, and my prison shackles. I was wearing a sherriff's department parka, and was beginning to get numb from the cold when I took stock of my surroundings once again. From the looks of it, I'd stumbled across an exclusive college, well hidden in the Upstate foothills. Never one to look a possible gift horse in the mouth, I began perusing the buildings until I found a Maintenance office and locker room. A repair schedule was on the wall, and it seemed that the water heater in one of the north campus dorms was on the blink. Additionaly, it seemed their temporary Maintenance man had filed his fifteen second resignation notice; something about not being paid enough to work through Christmas. I smiled. All too easy. As I was getting dressed in Maintenance coveralls, the phone on the desk began to ring.