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| The Rebirth of the Nationalist | |
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| Topic Started: Sep 12 2009, 04:19 AM (434 Views) | |
| Deleted User | Sep 12 2009, 04:19 AM Post #1 |
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The afternoon sun glared upon the streets of New Orleans. On one of these street corners stood Gambit's corner. This cafe was small, but the food there was good, and the drinks even better. Unlike the crowds of people like in the more popular cafes, this cafe was good for meetings, or for listening in on those meetings. That's why Doc Holliday was here. Doc Holliday's real name was John Holliday, but people called him Doc for his unnatural love for human anatomy. Holliday had came over to the Confederate States from Wales with his mother when his father had gone off to fight in the Welsh Rebellion. A year later his mother was killed by Cuban Refugees while working at a liquor store. Doc was only 10 when it happened. After this tragic incident, he was sent to an orphanage. But Holliday didn't fit in well with the orphans, who mostly consisted of Negros, Mexicans, and some French. Holliday ended up fighting for the better part of his childhood, ranging from gang violence to race issues. When he turned 16, he left the orphanage and got a job at a local Library. There, he poured over books about Anatomy and his true Homeland, Wales. Soon, the Dominion had invade The States and Holliday decided to join the military at the age of 18, like his father once did. The military at once recognized his skills with weapon and tactics. He was commissioned as a Sergeant Major, and was sent to the special forces school at Fort Benning. From there, Holliday led several successful operations against the Military Dominion. The Confederate military then decided it was best if his battalion served as normal soldiers, instead of the unconventional warfare that the Special Ops practiced. During his time as a soldier, Holliday participated in some major events in the war. He was at the battle which led to the turning point of the war. He also led his elite platoon in the first wave in the Invasion of Durick Veta, and succeed in liberating Telosan. After the war, Holliday used his well earned money to go to college. He attended Harvard University to get a medical degree. But Holliday did not fit in with the rest of the doctors; he had an uncanny knowledge for the human body, especially its weak points, due to his training in the special forces. His colleagues were terrified of him, and for the most part, avoided him. Holliday had a soft, southern accent, that of a gentleman's, which was almost unfitting for his old line of work. He had the aura of sophistication, which contributed to his deadly and mysterious persona. But when his military training and childhood violence saw to the demise of a normal life for him, Holliday turned to the life of a vigilante. It suited him, and it suited the ever increasing crime that plagued New Orleans. I am currently on the case of the kidnapping of a young woman, and I have some very strong leads, and this is why I am here listening at at the cafe. As for the girl, she is Welsh...... Doc Holliday snapped out of his daydream he was having. Damn, he thought, I really have to stop doing that. Doc sipped his tea, continuing with his careful observations of the Cuban and the Negro seated two tables away. "What type of bitch do you have for me?" asked the Negro. Clearly intimated, the Cuban stuttered in poor english, "She young and her body es muy bonita. She is from Wales, so the authorities won't care once she has gone missing, you know what I mean." "I don't give a shit what you mean, she better be damn sexy. I'm guessing you want yo money too, you shity island beaner?" "Yes, the money, el dinero. I also have more senoritas coming, and i can get you some good deals." "I'm happy we understand. You know what, i want a discount if we are gonna keep this shit up.." "¡Que!" The Cuban almost screamed. "This is a good one, worth more than you are already paying me for, muchos dineros." "Well, if I am not mistaken, you owe my brother some big ass money. Now you wouldn't want him to know where you are, would you?" The Cuban calmed down instantly, and became very frightened. "Si, mi amigo, I don't want no trouble." The Negro stood up slowly. "Oh, I almost forgot, you need to stop by my club tomorrow with your crew, I need to inspect them. I don't want no saltwater niggers who came over from your fucked up country on some shitty little raft; I don't want shit like that." "Fine." "Good." As the Negro turned and walked away, the Cuban got up, threw down his cup and turned to leave, pushing past people as he left. Doc Holliday stood up and walked to his car well after the two men had left. He knew what he had to do. OCC: First RP like this, tell me what you think. |
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| Deleted User | Sep 12 2009, 10:12 PM Post #2 |
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OCC: Could some please move this to the Asian Continent forum? i messed up. :P |
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| NRE | Sep 14 2009, 09:34 AM Post #3 |
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Map Tsar and Southern Gentleman
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Done :D |
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| Deleted User | Sep 14 2009, 09:04 PM Post #4 |
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OCC: :D thank you so much |
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| Deleted User | Sep 24 2009, 12:10 AM Post #5 |
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Deleted User
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Doc Holliday watched from the safety of his car as the five men jumped into a car and drove off. That means only one is left, Thought Holliday. With the car out of sight, Doc slowly slipped out of his car and made for the house the men had just left. He walked around to the side of the house and peered through the dirty screen. Nothing was in view, but he could here the faint, unmistakable sound of a bludgeon hitting flesh. A faint sobbing could be heard throughout the house. Knowing the guard was busy, Doc unsheathed his knife and slowly cut the screen to make an entrance. Once inside, Doc followed the sounds of the beating. After he exited the room with the screen, immediately on his right was a long hallway, where at the end was an open door. Inside that room was a man unmercifully beating a young woman. His back was turned towards the door, so Doc creped down the hallway, while slowly extraction his silenced FN Five-seven. "Haha, that's what you get for talking back, mi amigo. Hmm I've been a'thinking. You probably never felt a hombre before, you are probably still a virgin. Lets fix that." The girl cried out as the man began to loosen and slip off his pants. Upon seeing this, Doc slipped his handgun back into its holster, and quickly moved to the room. The man turned around just to see Doc charging, and the man tried to raise him arm and bring the club down on Doc's head. But Doc was too fast, as he grabbed the inside of the man's arm and squeezed just below the elbow, which caused temporary paralysis. With his other hand, Doc grabbed his trachea and pressed the side of the throat with his thumb. Squeeze the handle, press the button, thought Holliday. Slowly but surely, Doc Holliday ripped the man's windpipes out of his throat. He stood up with the man's bloody trachea in his hands, and looked across the room at the young woman, who's gagged face resembled that of a frightened child. "Don't worry ma'am, I'm a doctor," said Doc Holliday with his Southern Gentleman's accent. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The men returned late that night and it was obvious something had gone wrong, the way they walked and shouted in Spanish at each other. The leader, the Cuban man from the cafe, was still by the car and was making a call to some client while his other four men walked to the house. They crowded in the doorway as one of them unlocked and swung the door open. The laser sensed the change, and the claymore mine exploded, shredding the four men to bloody rags. Doc Holliday stepped out from the bushes and raised his handgun as the Cuban leader was turning to run. The 5.7x28mm bullet from the FN Five-seven pierced through the Cuban's calf and lodged itself in the other leg just above the Achilles Tendon. The Cuban fell to the ground, releasing a stream of insult and threats in Spanish. Doc had seen these types of people before; the very same ones who killed his mother. Holliday unsheathed his knife and went to work. He poured all of his hatred into that knife, slowly torturing the Cuban, just like this criminal had tortured the innocent people of New Orleans. After Doc was done, he sheathed his knife and went on his way, leaving the bloody, shredded remains of the Cuban as a gift to the animals of the night. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The reunion of the Welsh family was a happy one. The family promised to keep it quiet and paid the vigilante for his services.The family was extremely grateful, and gave Doc Holliday a num,ber he could reach if he ever went back to Wales. As for the girl, she was to make a full recovery, and once she was done here, they would move back the Wales. Maybe its time I moved back, its been too long, I could use a normal life, thought Doc. Doc Holliday left the house and headed back to Gambit's Corner. As he parked his car by the railing across the way, a Negro man stepped into the car. "We should talk....." |
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| Deleted User | Nov 2 2009, 07:28 PM Post #6 |
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Damn, I still got to finish this. |
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11:48 AM Jul 13