BLACK FRIDAY .03

[KING PUFFLES]

11. dmitri fausto- rioter
12. remus atticus- neutral
13. nikon fausto- neutral
14. jesse- rioter
15. mr. bobbin- anti-rioter

These are the posters in order. The location is a huge sub street on the far side of Loguetown which stretches on for miles with buildings on either side of the street. The moon is out. Rioters have started setting fire to buildings and it's spreading quickly. There is a 2 day iic that, if missed, will result in getting skipped.

[DMITRI FAUSTO]

Far to the east, a tall white haired man sat in a bar, in a town called Loguetown. His hazel colored eyes starring down a pint of beer. Lifting the beer to his lips he drank. It was a calm lovely day so far. Nothing bad at all jumped at him. As he drank his beer, while having good alone time. A group of men walked into the bar with flaming beer bottles. This surely wasn't going to end well. The flaming bottles flew as they threw them into the bar. A perfect place to throw flaming bottles of beer. This bar shall burn quite well. Maybe with a nice explosion to kill everyone in the bar. Of course there was no time to save people. There were far to many and Dmitri really doesn't care about the east anyway.

So like a rabid wolverine he lunged forward. Dodging the bottles of course. And as the men were outside on there way to the next building to burn. Dmitri tackled one of the men. Dmitri just began beating the man with his bare fists. He could care less if he ends up killing the man. These jerks burnt all the alcohol in that bar he was in. Which reminds us, at that very moment the bar exploded. Sending Dmitri and the men flying across the ground. Covered in ash as it rained it. Dmitri got up, seeing that the men got away from him. They can have gotten that far away. Dmitri picked himself up, unsheathed his katana and sprinted after them. Just as he thought, they didn't get that far. He held his sword tight and his muscles flexed as the slashed towards them sending a burst of pressure there way that which would suck them backwards. Wounding them at the same time. Though some had the right instinct to dodge which was rare in idiots like these ones.

He walked over to the bastard that dodged. He gave Dmitri a mean look, as if he was tough shit.. Dmitri was of course about to waste this guy when the man was suddenly shot in the head. Now making Dmitri realize that the street was in a mess and full of rioters. He had walked into a pissed off hornets nest. Dmitri stepped to the left then the right. Moving forward like a zig zagging zebra. But instead of trying to escape a predator. He was moving in for the kill. This gunman killed his prey which means the gunman is now the prey. The smell of blood drove him into a rioting killing spree like a rogue shark in the sea.

note: Posted the best I could at such a freakin late time at night.

[Mr. Bobbin]

((It's been six days, so I'm gonna assume that the other three people missed their turns.))

The town was on fire.

The town... was on fire.

If Roger Bobbin was of a cruder mindset, he would have remarked that somebody had seriously screwed the pooch. However, he was a gentleman, for what it was worth at that moment in time. Indeed, right now a gentile nature was anything but a positive. What started as a protest turned into a full blown riot, all because of a single tragically placed bullet. And now, Roger found himself alone, wearing a Navy uniform at what was probably the worst possible time to be a Navy man.

Where were the others? He had gotten separated from them in the melee and now... Now the town was on bloody fire! Roger stared at the throng of humanity with no shortage of trepidation. He had to do something, had to find some way to restore order, but how? Judging by some of the looks that the people had on their faces, they were emphatically not willing to listen to reason. With a gulp, Roger tried to shake that idea out of his head. He was a member of the Navy. It was his job to get them to listen to reason, even if he had to do it alone. Out-numbered. Out-muscled. While the city was on fire!

"Excuse me... I say, excuse me!" He tried to get the attention of a pair of roughnecks, who proceeded to run past him. He tried to approach another group. "Please return to your homes and cease all violent... Something volatile went off in the building across the street, causing a rather energetic explosion. When he looked back up, the people had run away. A group began to run down the street towards him. Roger held up a hand. "By order of the World Navy, you are ordered to halt and... Whaaah!"

He was knocked aside like the last pin in a bowling tournament. He was aware of something falling out of his pocket, a folded piece of cloth. Roger's eyes widened. That was his latest needlepoint, the product of days of dedicated work. Seven spools of thread, three different needle varieties, almost every stitch he had ever learned; there was a thimble in his sewing kit that had to be permanently retired after he had finished. It was a work of art, a veritable masterpiece of cloth and string. And now it was fluttering lazily into the fire.

At that moment, the world could have been ending and Roger would not have noticed. His greatest work was literally going up in smoke. And whose fault was it? Naturally, it was whoever decided to light the bloody city on fire. What occurred next was the closest thing to a Hulk moment Roger had ever experienced.

Sewing needles were in his hands even before he was aware of it. They were dropping into the skin of passing rioters almost as an after thought as Roger marched down the street, shouting in his most authoritative voice. "Citizens! Return to your homes immediately! Any further acts of violence will be dealt with in the harshest of terms. Cease and desist! I repeat: cease and desist!"

[Event Chef]

The event is closed. All members will be awared 10,000 beri