09-29-2017, 09:33 PM
Panting, Gaston sat against the wall as he looked around. There was more evidence of the violence than he had expected. Although no one had died, there was still a lot of blood, with all of the gang members lying on the ground, some still wincing from the pain but most unconscious from it. Suddenly, the pattering of footsteps running on the hard concrete of the ground came echoing through, and Gaston pulled out his blunderbuss yet again, pointing wildly in the direction of the footsteps.
"Whoever you are, stand back! I will shoot!" he yelled, his tired inflexion concealed by a thick layer of brash courage.
"Shut up, man!" Gaston expected to see another member of a gang, but instead, it was only his partner, rapidly approaching.
"Why-you said you didn't care about me!"
"Yeah, well I was thinking back there, and if you get killed? Even hurt too much? I'm gonna get blamed for that shit! So come on!" Gaston's partner wrapped his arm around Gaston's shoulder, helping him to stand up and began to walk back.
"Why would you be blamed? It is not your fault, if I were to get killed in battle! And besides, I am too strong to be killed!" The man raised his eyebrows as he continued walking.
"Yeah, sure. Listen, man. I'm a convict, been in prison for five years before getting sent here. And it was hard getting here. You? You got sent here after a small crime, and you got a month before you're free. So yeah, I'd get blamed for it." Gaston feigned shock at learning of why the man would be accused but was not truly surprised. He had suspected that he had done some bad crime to get here, but had not yet concluded that was why he would be accused. Certainly, only because of his injuries! For the great Gaston would never really be fooled! Looking forward again, Gaston saw that they were still a while away from the service centre, at least at their current pace. A small group of people had at that point formed, staring at Gaston and his partner. "What are y'all looking at? Never seen an injured man? Get out of here!" He pulled out a small switchblade, opening it and waving it near the people, most of them running. Gaston's partner shook his head as they continued walking, heading back to the service centre.
Gaston and his partner went along in silence, neither having any desire to speak. As soon as they came in, Gaston burst away from his partner with a sudden burst of energy, laying on the ground on a sleeping bag they had set up.
"Woah, man! Be careful," his partner said. But Gaston ignored him as he succumbed to sleep, his drowsy eyes slowly closing as his willpower subsided, and he drifted off.
Gaston woke propped up on a bed of boxes, his shirt off and a bandage over his wound.
"All I could find. Doesn't seem to matter much, though, considering how fast it's healing. Guess I should've expected it, with you bein' a prime and all. You tend to do weird shit like that." Immediately, Gaston pushed his legs off of the bed, stretching them out.
"How long did I sleep?"
"'Bout 13 hours. Couldn't wake you up, I tried." Gaston shook his head as he stood up. He stretched, causing his bandage to rip. "Woah, man! What the hell?" But he went silent when he saw the wound. It was almost completely healed! Gaston let out a cheesy grin as he looked at it.
"Ha! As quickly as I would expect it to heal!" His partner merely rolled his eyes, going back to loading packages. Gaston looked around, searching for something. "I'm hungry," he moaned. "Where have you been keeping the food?" His partner pointed to a corner partially blocked by empty boxes. Within the corner was a strange, white-coloured cabinet, with... a metal box on top? Gaston ignored it, walking over.
"We got some ramen, there's some hot dogs and beer in the fridge. Bought it while you were out." Gaston opened the box, and a burst of cold air hit him. Strange... so this kept things cold? Gaston grabbed one of the bottles of beer, prying the cap off with his fingers. He took a large drink before taking a small sausage out of the same box, the same "fridge," and looked on top.
"So this, this box heats things up?" The man looked at Gaston for a moment, trying to see if he was joking. Realising he wasn't, he explained it to him quickly. Getting the idea, Gaston stuck the sausage into the box and pressed several buttons to cook it. He took another swig of his beer as he opened the microwave, grabbing the hot dog firmly... before quickly tossing it in the air. "Ah! Hot!" The burly man set his beer down, and began a strange juggling of the hot dog between his hands, trying to touch it as little as possible. His partner had looked over by then and was watching with mild amusement. But suddenly, Gaston failed to catch the sausage. Sprinting, his partner slid on the ground just in time and caught the hot dog, standing up and handing it to Gaston.
"Man, they don't give us enough money to be wasting food like this! Just eat it!" Slightly intimidated, Gaston scarfed down the hot dog as quickly as he could.
Just as he had finished, there was a sudden knock on the door, and he ran to open it, only to be greeted by the unfriendly face of a police officer.
"Hey," the cop said, trying to appear friendly. "We're here investigating a case of assault in this area. Three people, brutally injured. Some kid nearby said that they were trying to mug a guy, but wouldn't say anything about who attacked them except for a name: 'Gaston'. So, would you be willing to help us out with any info?" Gaston grinned.
"Well, you're in luck!" I am Gaston!"
"Whoever you are, stand back! I will shoot!" he yelled, his tired inflexion concealed by a thick layer of brash courage.
"Shut up, man!" Gaston expected to see another member of a gang, but instead, it was only his partner, rapidly approaching.
"Why-you said you didn't care about me!"
"Yeah, well I was thinking back there, and if you get killed? Even hurt too much? I'm gonna get blamed for that shit! So come on!" Gaston's partner wrapped his arm around Gaston's shoulder, helping him to stand up and began to walk back.
"Why would you be blamed? It is not your fault, if I were to get killed in battle! And besides, I am too strong to be killed!" The man raised his eyebrows as he continued walking.
"Yeah, sure. Listen, man. I'm a convict, been in prison for five years before getting sent here. And it was hard getting here. You? You got sent here after a small crime, and you got a month before you're free. So yeah, I'd get blamed for it." Gaston feigned shock at learning of why the man would be accused but was not truly surprised. He had suspected that he had done some bad crime to get here, but had not yet concluded that was why he would be accused. Certainly, only because of his injuries! For the great Gaston would never really be fooled! Looking forward again, Gaston saw that they were still a while away from the service centre, at least at their current pace. A small group of people had at that point formed, staring at Gaston and his partner. "What are y'all looking at? Never seen an injured man? Get out of here!" He pulled out a small switchblade, opening it and waving it near the people, most of them running. Gaston's partner shook his head as they continued walking, heading back to the service centre.
Gaston and his partner went along in silence, neither having any desire to speak. As soon as they came in, Gaston burst away from his partner with a sudden burst of energy, laying on the ground on a sleeping bag they had set up.
"Woah, man! Be careful," his partner said. But Gaston ignored him as he succumbed to sleep, his drowsy eyes slowly closing as his willpower subsided, and he drifted off.
Gaston woke propped up on a bed of boxes, his shirt off and a bandage over his wound.
"All I could find. Doesn't seem to matter much, though, considering how fast it's healing. Guess I should've expected it, with you bein' a prime and all. You tend to do weird shit like that." Immediately, Gaston pushed his legs off of the bed, stretching them out.
"How long did I sleep?"
"'Bout 13 hours. Couldn't wake you up, I tried." Gaston shook his head as he stood up. He stretched, causing his bandage to rip. "Woah, man! What the hell?" But he went silent when he saw the wound. It was almost completely healed! Gaston let out a cheesy grin as he looked at it.
"Ha! As quickly as I would expect it to heal!" His partner merely rolled his eyes, going back to loading packages. Gaston looked around, searching for something. "I'm hungry," he moaned. "Where have you been keeping the food?" His partner pointed to a corner partially blocked by empty boxes. Within the corner was a strange, white-coloured cabinet, with... a metal box on top? Gaston ignored it, walking over.
"We got some ramen, there's some hot dogs and beer in the fridge. Bought it while you were out." Gaston opened the box, and a burst of cold air hit him. Strange... so this kept things cold? Gaston grabbed one of the bottles of beer, prying the cap off with his fingers. He took a large drink before taking a small sausage out of the same box, the same "fridge," and looked on top.
"So this, this box heats things up?" The man looked at Gaston for a moment, trying to see if he was joking. Realising he wasn't, he explained it to him quickly. Getting the idea, Gaston stuck the sausage into the box and pressed several buttons to cook it. He took another swig of his beer as he opened the microwave, grabbing the hot dog firmly... before quickly tossing it in the air. "Ah! Hot!" The burly man set his beer down, and began a strange juggling of the hot dog between his hands, trying to touch it as little as possible. His partner had looked over by then and was watching with mild amusement. But suddenly, Gaston failed to catch the sausage. Sprinting, his partner slid on the ground just in time and caught the hot dog, standing up and handing it to Gaston.
"Man, they don't give us enough money to be wasting food like this! Just eat it!" Slightly intimidated, Gaston scarfed down the hot dog as quickly as he could.
Just as he had finished, there was a sudden knock on the door, and he ran to open it, only to be greeted by the unfriendly face of a police officer.
"Hey," the cop said, trying to appear friendly. "We're here investigating a case of assault in this area. Three people, brutally injured. Some kid nearby said that they were trying to mug a guy, but wouldn't say anything about who attacked them except for a name: 'Gaston'. So, would you be willing to help us out with any info?" Gaston grinned.
"Well, you're in luck!" I am Gaston!"
Quote: No longer doing "The Hero This City Needs."