[ SOLANUM ] Marlowe
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Light =&gt; Light: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: strangely made on 02-01-2007, 15:50:43</h2>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>[ SOLANUM ] Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>02-01-2007, 15:50:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Tuesday 4th September. The first day of a new school term.<br>The morning is bright and sunny with a slight chill in the air.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>02-01-2007, 21:49:53</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe walks, shoulders stooped, to the basement door of his bunker at St. Jude's.&nbsp; The morning light's slow wash casts a surreal glow on the cityscape of barrios and gutted industrial wasteland.&nbsp; <br><br>He hurls the now-empty glass whiskey flask sidearm, and removes the padlock before it shatters against the concrete somewhere down the street.&nbsp; He brings the heavy chain and padlock within, throws the bar into place... relieved at the dark, he rubs his eyes and heads for his dry-ice cooler.&nbsp; He clips on the radio, and hearing Soft Cell fade into the annourncer's voice, he flips the radio back to "off".&nbsp; <br><br>He closes the dry-ice cooler after removing a bottle of Gatorade, and chugs a few swallows as he rubs his eyes and settles on the torn, green Naugahyde sofa.&nbsp; "Tainted love..." he mumbles as he rests the Gatorade against his swelled eye... not suprising, he and a guy from the shipyard had thrown a few punches around the dive next to the wharf... a good end to the evening, all considered.&nbsp; The eye barely hurt, and the other guy was probably in the hospital having his jaw reset right now.<br><br>He sipped again and re-capped the bottle, sighing and letting his heavy eyes fall shut.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>02-01-2007, 22:33:35</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				At that the point The Anti Terroist squad strike, shaped charges blow the hinges of the doors which fall to the ground with a loud clunk. Flash Bangs are thrown into the bunker and explode with a blinding flash of light and a defening bang. Six black clad armed officers burst into the room holding Heckler &amp; Koch 416s , the laser sights pointed directly at Marlowe's head.<br><br>The lead officer shouts out "ARMED OFFICERS, ON THE FLOOR NOW" 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>02-01-2007, 22:53:19</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The detonations bounce Marlowe off of the couch to the floor, with the Gatorade still in his hands and a wide-eyed, half-shocked amazement.&nbsp; After a few blinks and a head-rattle, he's able to see past the spots and hear the officer's barked orders over the ringing in his head--<br><br>He spreads his hands slowly, holding the Gatorade loosely between thumb and forefinger, and emits a soft cough.&nbsp; He stares down the barrel of the submachine gun, and with mild dispassion he slowly lifts his hands at his sides and raises his head to face the officer.&nbsp; "If this is about the library fines, the check's in the mail..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>02-01-2007, 23:21:34</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The officer in charge flicks the safety swich on the weapon and flips it rouns to his back before taking out a set of safety cuffs from the pouch on his belt.<br><br>"You are being arrested under the Anti terrorisom act, You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you fail to mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say will be given in evidence." <br><br>Kneeling down his knee placed squarely in Marlowe's back the officer began to place the nylon cuffs around the Anarchists wrists.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>02-01-2007, 23:32:19</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe grins at that and shrugs as he feels the nylon ties begin to tighten into place... he subtly flexes his forearms, then attempts to distract the officer with an over-the shoulder comment in the hopes of getting the cuffs placed on the thicker, flexed muscle, and hopefully worked off later.&nbsp; <br><br>He was glad the officer hadn't frisked him yet... his zippo and a pack of Marleys were squashed into the hip pocket of his jeans.&nbsp; "You blokes want a drink?"&nbsp; The knee pressing his spine elicits a soft couple of pops-- "Ah, damn, like a Chiropractor, that was... hey, let it be given in evidence that I offered you tea..."&nbsp; the weight of the officer becomes a little heavier at that... "ooooh, shite.&nbsp; OK, no tea-- fuck."&nbsp; <br><br>He notes the other 5 guns trained on him.&nbsp; "Nice shoes."&nbsp; He scans quickly, looking for any details that could get him out of this.&nbsp; Any distraction, any offer.&nbsp; But agents aren't like a street cop or two.&nbsp; He'd been pinched by the Hounds once, and they were no-smiling bastards.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>02-01-2007, 23:53:58</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				With out a reply the Officer finishes tightening the cuffs and signals to a second officer who after making his weapon safe straddles Marlowe’s legs facing his feet and clasps the Anarchists ankles tight.<br>A third officer places Safety cuffs around the mans ankles and pulls them tight before stepping back and aiming his weapon at the mans head again.<br><br>"Are you currently on any prescribed drugs sir? And are your inoculations up to date?" the lead officer asks as a fourth officer takes a syringe and needle out of a small leather pouch attached to his belt.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>03-01-2007, 00:10:44</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				'Oh, fuck,' Marlowe thinks, noting the needle and excessive restraints--&nbsp; they must be thinking of mailing his ass to Syria or something...<br>Thinking faster, "I'm on Ritalin, Zoloft, Lithium... I think I have Hepatitis C and a nasty case of oral syphillis..."&nbsp; Think faster.&nbsp; Get the fuck out of here...&nbsp; "Oh, and I think, perhaps, I caught the crabs from your sister," he says dryly.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>03-01-2007, 00:19:39</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				"Very good sir" the lead officer replies "Now you wont mind if Jones here takes a sample of your blood for our report will you sir?"<br><br>With out waiting for any reply Jones kneels down and with out any preparation thrusts the syringe into Marlowe's arm right through his clothing and draws a full 100cc's of blood.<br><br>"Now sir if you wouldn't mind coming with us to the police station we can get this sorted out and you can be on your way" As the lead officer speaks four of the other take hold of an appendage each and proceed to lift him off the ground all the while the sixth officer holds his weapon steady aimed at Marlowe's head.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>03-01-2007, 00:39:58</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The needle feels the size of a drinking straw, but Marlowe is careful to keep his forearms taut.&nbsp; He lets his head hang loosely as they hoist him, unceremoniously toward the door.&nbsp; "Very good-- no, not really.&nbsp; It was like shaggin' a paralyzed whale, actually.&nbsp; Remember, tea's in the cupboard, don't leave the milk out to spoil--"&nbsp; he can feel the muzzle of the gun trained on his skull like an unblinking eye.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>03-01-2007, 00:51:43</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The police officers carry the man out side towards the open doors of a waiting van, as the do three men in yellow NBC suits walk towards Marlowe's home carrying what look to be containers of industrial bleach.<br><br>"Don't worry about your home while your gone sir, my men will make sure its nice and clean for you if you return"<br><br>With that the officers placed him gently in the back, one of them climbed into the back with him after handing his assault rifle to a companion. Sitting down the officer drew his side arm and made sure a round was chambered with the safety off before nodding to his superior.<br>As the lead officer shut the doors of the van he addressed Marlowe's guard "Don't forget, two in the head to make sure" then with a loud click the doors were locked and the van drove off at high speed.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>03-01-2007, 01:15:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe grows cold at that, aware of the exchange.&nbsp; He writhes his way up to a sitting position and watches, waiting.&nbsp; He stares down the guard before him, not looking at the sidearm.&nbsp; The motor's roar, jostling and bumps become the only sound, and he watches the officer's eyes.&nbsp; He notes his preferred hand, guesses the poundage on the pistol's trigger to be about 3 kilograms of pressure before a round is discharged... he studies the man's stance, mind racing for any way of making a move without eating a bullet.<br><br>After a few minutes, he speaks in a low, gravely tone.&nbsp; "You know..." he leans back against the corner and beginning to carefully, delicately, try to worm his hand through one half of the plastic cuffs, knowing that the slightest pressure at the wrong angle will tighten them up more, "I was in the army for a couple of years..."&nbsp; he lied.&nbsp; "I knew a bloke what shot his head off, riding with his safety off... he didn't have his finger on the trigger, even... his rifle aimed skywards... the driver hit a curb or something, and the jostle tipped him back and his hand forward, and--"&nbsp; his eyes widened very slightly, "--like that."&nbsp; He guised his efforts at the cuffs with a wriggle of discomfort.&nbsp; "He lived alright, but he watches cartoons all day now, and dribbles when he smiles."<br><br>"How'd you get this job, then?&nbsp; Just grow up and say, 'Nah, the army's pussy.&nbsp; I'm going to go where I can get away with Anythin'."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>03-01-2007, 01:30:33</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The officer stared back at Marlowe <br>" I'm sorry sir, would you like to stop moving now or would you rather I kick you in the testicles?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>03-01-2007, 04:30:01</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				He nods.&nbsp; "That's right.&nbsp; Kick in the balls now, shoot me in the head later.&nbsp; Twice, no less.&nbsp; Lovely."&nbsp; He sits slightly forward, easing up on the cuffs.&nbsp; "So what am I being charged with, Beetle Bailey?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>03-01-2007, 23:56:01</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The officer eyes him cautiously “As the Super said you are being charged under the prevention of terrorism act"<br><br>Reaching up to his radio the officer pressed the talk button and mumbled something into it before returning back to Marlowe "I have be authorised to use extreme measures if you do not be quite" he said as he raised his pistol .<br><br>The van continued on it journey, tearing through the crowed city streets at speed taking corners perhaps too sharply&nbsp; before screeching to a halt in front of a huge set of double steel doors.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>04-01-2007, 00:14:55</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Grinning faintly at that, Marlowe pops his neck several times, audibly, and mutters.&nbsp; "Doublespeak"&nbsp; He must brace himself against the jolts then, and does as best he can with his hands and feet bound. He slides a little in his seat as the vehicle careens to a halt, looking out the back window at the heavy doors and beginning to draw blood from his wrists as he intensifies his struggle with the cuffs.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>04-01-2007, 00:24:19</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				With a teeth shattering metalic grind the Doors slowly slide open. The van edges it way forward into the compound behind the security.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>04-01-2007, 00:27:46</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				He slackens his efforts at the flex cuffs when he sees them driving inside.&nbsp; Not much chance for a break in there.&nbsp; A warm trickle of blood itches at his palm, and he shakes his head solemnly.&nbsp; If it's dark in the compound, from what he can see, he will close his eyes in an effort to dialate his eyes.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>04-01-2007, 00:56:55</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				As the van pulls to a final stop the doors beging to slide shut.<br>"Right then sir, we are here" the officer says with a hint of relief in his voice. <br>With a quite click the van doors are unlocked and swung open. Waiting out side are several officers in full NBC kit with assault riflles aimed and ready.<br><br>"If you would come with us sir" the officer says as sevral burly men reach in to pick Marlowe up.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>04-01-2007, 06:00:32</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Carried like a fresh kill, Marlowe lets himself hang limply in their grasp, careful not to give them a reason to fire and attempting to force them to use every effort to keep him aloft.&nbsp; This compound was looking worse and worse, and as object-sensory perception informs him that he's no longer in open air, he opens his eyes, memorizing turns.&nbsp; He counts people, weapons, doors... he looks for fire alarms, shut of switches, power junctions... he knows he's beyond over his head now, and is whirling his thoughts through every possible course of action.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>08-01-2007, 01:51:30</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The officers carry him through the station, pass the booking in desk where a gruff looking sergant is busy dealing with what appears to be a down and out .<br>"And you'll see the doc when he's free...." the sergent is saying as if he has said it more times than normal today.<br><br>The lead officer in Marlowes arrest appears from inside a interview room "Just put him in Cell 9, next to moaning Mike" The officers carrying the anarchist smile and carry him down the hall towards the cells.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>08-01-2007, 02:17:51</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe cranes his head to see the guard's desk... at least, he thought, from this point in things seemed rather familiar... just like prison, and prison was familiar enough.&nbsp; He remains limp and as heavy as possible as they lug him down the hall... <em>moaning mike..?</em> "What about moaning Lisa?&nbsp; Or even Moaning Michelle?&nbsp; I'd much prefer to listen to that--" the deeper in he gets, he realizes, the more his strategy will have to adapt to get free.&nbsp; If he can.&nbsp; Else, it'll be time to determine if a human being can hang himself with rope improvised from worn-out fatigue pants.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>08-01-2007, 02:37:26</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The ooficers take him to the cell and after opening the door drag him inside. Placeing him on the floor one of them hold his assault rifle in a ready position as another kneels down next to him.<br>Drowing a lock knife from his pocket the officer flips the blade open expertly and says "Now your not going to be silly and try anything as I take your restraints off you are you?"<br><br><br>In the next door cell a loud graon is suddenly heard, then the sound of something hitting the cell door from the inside, it sounds almost like fists but faintly wet at the same time. The officers look nervously at each other as the banging sound changes from thr door to to the wall seperating the cells.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>08-01-2007, 03:29:15</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=8337.msg298190#msg298190">Quote from: strangely made on 08-01-2007, 02:37:26</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">The ooficers take him to the cell and after opening the door drag him inside. Placeing him on the floor one of them hold his assault rifle in a ready position as another kneels down next to him.<br>Drowing a lock knife from his pocket the officer flips the blade open expertly and says "Now your not going to be silly and try anything as I take your restraints off you are you?"<br></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>Marlowe emits a dry, exhausted laugh.&nbsp; "Whot, like catching the bullets he plugs me with and throwin' them at you?" <br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=8337.msg298190#msg298190">Quote from: strangely made on 08-01-2007, 02:37:26</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">In the next door cell a loud graon is suddenly heard, then the sound of something hitting the cell door from the inside, it sounds almost like fists but faintly wet at the same time. The officers look nervously at each other as the banging sound changes from thr door to to the wall seperating the cells.<br></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>The noise gives Marlowe pause, and he looks toward that wall-- not that it matters, he isn't Clark Kent-- before panning his gaze slowly, coldly, back to the officers.&nbsp; "Is Mike... squishy?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>08-01-2007, 03:40:25</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The officer genuinly laughted " Yes sir, or perhaps going into Matrix time" he grinned.<br><br>At the mention of Mike the officers shifted slightly "Nothing to worry about with him sir, he'll quiten down if you don't move about too much" one of the officers replied.<br><br>The restraints we cut with the blade and the officers backed out slowly, all the while the weapon was aimed at Marlowe's head "The boss will be along to question you soon enought sir, just co-operate and you'll be out of here as quick as possible."<br><br>With that they shut the heavy cell door with a bang and switched the light on, before they left one of them opened the comunication hatch "Would you like a tea sir?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>08-01-2007, 04:37:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He watched warily as the sound persisted, slowly panning his eyes back to the officers.&nbsp; Glad to be free of the cuffs at least, he nodded.&nbsp; Cooperate?&nbsp; This was sounding worse and worse... like they were trying to calm him down, not shake him up and bleed information from him... he rather preferred the latter.&nbsp; <br><br>At their question, he tried to play nice.&nbsp; "Not at--"&nbsp; the wet thumping again.&nbsp; Like Mike the Moaner was really Mike the Meat Puppet.&nbsp; He tried again, this time quieter.&nbsp; "Not at the moment, thanks..."&nbsp; Waited a half a few minutes for the noise to settle down, then fished out the now-crumpled pack of cigarettes and matchbook from his pocket, listening and waiting, and struck one alight with a soft flick of the lighter.<br><br>He wondered if Mike was, perhaps, mentally retarded... flinging his feces against the wall at any noise.&nbsp; That might make sense.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>09-01-2007, 01:39:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe was left in the cell for the best part of two hours before he was called for questioning. All this time there were occasional moans from the cell next door and sometimes the sounds of things being broken.<br><br>The inside of Marlowes cell consited of a concret bench that acted as a bed with a stainless steel Toilet bowl securly bolted to the wall, presumably the cell next dor would be the same.<br><br>When the officers came for him they first of all opened the comunication hatch and looked inside before opening up the door, "The boss is ready for you now" one officer said and two other stood behind him with Tazers at the ready.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>09-01-2007, 06:58:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A small pile of cigarette butts litters the floor, ashes heaped and scattered off to Marlowe's left.&nbsp; He's done some origami with the foil from the pack, and used a couple torn shreds from his t-shirt to wrap up his scabbed-up wrists.&nbsp; He's urinated... yes, he used the facilities, not on the floor... and wished like hell he still had that bottle of Gatorade.<br><br>All of this to the random noises of groaning and scraping thumps from next door.&nbsp; Unsettling, to say the least.&nbsp; He's fascinated.<br><br>He looks up at the open hatch, hefting the tiny crane.&nbsp; "Take dis crane from hand, grasshoppa."&nbsp; After a moment's pause, he smirks and tosses the little thing aside, standing to follow the guards.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>12-01-2007, 01:49:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Two of the officers led him down the hallway towards the interview room. The third stayed behind and waited for the clean up crew to arrive.<br><br>When They reached the interview room one of the officers held the door open for Marlowe. The room it's self was painted in a peasent shade of Duck egg blue and furnished with a three seater leather sofa, to easy chairs and a solid oak coffe table. On one side of the room was a table upon which a coffee machine, several cans of coke and packets of cigaretts were placed.<br>The senior officer who arrested the anarchist was standing by the table pouring himself out a mug of coffee, standing next to him were two men in white coats and another man in a dark blue suit. Also in the room was a slim petite asian woman.<br><br>"Please come in a sit down" the officer in charge said "Would you like a coffee?or anything else?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>12-01-2007, 04:02:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe stands just within the doorway with a blatantly skeptical stare.&nbsp; He flickers his gaze across the faces, particularly the one in the suit, flanked by white-coats.&nbsp; <br><br><em>They're coming to take me away, ha ha... </em><br><br>This was getting downright freaky.&nbsp; Nothing about this was making sense, which caused his head-- fuzzy and sore, sensitive to light and sound since the flash-bangs earlier-- to ring, reel.&nbsp; <br>Forcing control, he nodded, picked up a pack of cigarettes, and poured a cup of the same coffee that the officer drank.&nbsp; Smacking the cigarettes soundly against the table to pack them, he peeled the pack open, drew one out, and struck it alight with the zippo from his pocket (acid-etched surface emblazoned with an ace of spades) before turning back to the room.&nbsp; He moved to a chair, sat gingerly, and crossed his legs, one foot across the opposite knee.<br><br><em>This is -not- an interrogation,</em> says his rationale.&nbsp; But he has no choice.<br><br>"This is inhumane, gentlemen."&nbsp; He flicks his eyes across the young asian woman.&nbsp; "And I didn't order Chinese."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>13-01-2007, 17:50:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The suit gave Marlowe a stern look "The lady in question is the represntative from the Japanese embassy, she is here to analise your answers to our question"<br><br>"Yes, yes" the officer who had arrested Marlowe butted in. "The gentlemen in the lab coats are here to perform some.......tests"<br>One of the Lab coats stepped forward "Tell me, have you had any contact, any contact at all with persons who look sick to you? That includes passing them in the street"<br>As he talked to Marlowe the other began to take out various medical instruments, some looked as if they were used to studdy the brain.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>14-01-2007, 15:11:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>Bloody hell...</em>&nbsp; He took a prolonged drag from the cigarette and exhaled through his nose.&nbsp; <em>Maybe bird flu... that was a big concern in Asia.&nbsp; But why come after me for this..?&nbsp; They're bound to be trying to pin something on me... </em>&nbsp; He tried not to stare at the instruments, but to watch them in his peripheral vision.&nbsp; "Can't say that I have... though I saw one guy last night, was vomiting in the gutter down by the shipyard.&nbsp; Looked pretty loaded to me."<br><br>He panned his gaze over to the Japanese woman, giving her a once-over... he supposed that they might be telling the truth about her.&nbsp; But that only heightened the feeling of danger.&nbsp; He swallowed the coffee, noting that it wasn't quite hot enough to be used as a weapon.&nbsp; He scanned the room, trying to identify if the officer left his automatic anywhere around... where was the officer's sidearm?&nbsp; And were the white-coats armed?&nbsp; They didn't appear to be, and the officer's pistol was at his hip... He stood slowly, hands outstretched mildly-- "just goin' t'brew a fresh pot, if you don't mind..." and started to head for the table-- unless prevented-- to start a fresh pot of coffee.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>14-01-2007, 15:31:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I think you have had enough coffee fot now" the suit said as he went to the machine&nbsp; and switched it off at the socket.<br>Turning back to face Marlowe "Right now we need to concentrate and we all know that caffine dulls the senses"<br><br>The Japenese represantative stepped forward "Now Marlowe san, I wish you to tell me in extremly fine detail every about this gentleman you mentioned." As she talked she moved towards the medical equipment and carefully picked up a syringe and vial of clear liquid.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>14-01-2007, 15:56:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe watches the suit.&nbsp; "You must be the boss..." he states flatly, meeting the man eye-to-eye with a level gaze, trying not to let his searing hate for bureaucrats seep through.&nbsp; <br><br>He notes the Japanese woman's choice of a syringe.&nbsp; He hoped it was just sodium pentathol... at least he'd heard of that before.&nbsp; He picks up a can of the cola from the table and whispers to the suit-- "haven't slept yet..." offering a sly wink.&nbsp; <br><br>He turned back toward the room, popping open the soda while resting his cigarette in his lips.&nbsp; It bounces about when he speaks.&nbsp; "Well... I think it was Tom, but it was a little hard to tell from the ass-end... he had a beard, shaggy... brayish-brown, his face was wrinkled and pale... and he was wearing a stained, torn green coat-- the insulated type-- with brown trousers--"&nbsp; he walked toward the officer against the far wall-- "and I tried not to, but I got a rather unfortunate view of his bum when he was struck by a virulent... seizure."&nbsp; He rolled his eyes.&nbsp; "Let's just say that the valley was wide."&nbsp; <br><br>If the officer laughs, or shows any reaction except to put his hand hear his gun, Marlowe will go for his lead arm, wrap it in an arm-bar, and pull the sidearm from the officer's holster.<br><br>If the officer doesn't flinch, he'll raise his coke in salute.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>14-01-2007, 17:14:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				All eyes followed Marlowe as he walked around the room, each person seaching for any sign he wasn't telling the truth or he was ill.<br>As he approached the officer one of the medical staff piped up "Did this gentleman show any signs of being more than just ill?"<br>The officer Marlowe was talking to stifled a laugh at the mention of the valley.<br><br>om his chair the seniot officer was speaking quitly on his radion, quite enough that no one could hear what he was saying.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>14-01-2007, 21:41:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe sips the coke and takes another drag from the cigarette, exhaling it slowly as he shook his head.&nbsp; "He was bloody pissed was all.&nbsp; Aside from that, nothing."&nbsp; He half-smiles, trying to mask his awareness at how grave this situation must be, if they're so concerned that they'd speak to the likes of him about it.<br><br>He stays near the armed officer, knowing that, if it gets ugly, that pistol's his only hope.&nbsp; He keeps an eye on the needle.&nbsp; "That really won't be necessary, luv... I don't use the stuff."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>15-01-2007, 05:55:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She smiled slightly "Oh this isn't for you, this is a test injection for another occupant of the cells"<br><br>The sounds of comotion were starting to drift down the halls from the area Marlowe had been held in prviously "We want to calm him down before you two have a little talk don't we?" <br>The two lab coats took a pair of thick leather restraints from a case and started to aproach Marlowe at the same time the door of the interview room began to open.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>15-01-2007, 13:03:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Quirking his brow suggestively at the retraints, he shakes his head... "you kinky little Essex girl, you..."&nbsp; and dives for the officer, letting the can in his hands fall straight to the floor and flicking the cigarette at the armed man's face.&nbsp; He tries to grapple the officer so that his own back is toward the wall, in case whoever's coming through that door is carrying a SA80 or the like, with the officer's arm braced in a submission hold and his pistol available for snatching.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>16-01-2007, 01:56:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				several things happen in a very short time, the door opens fully and another man in a dark blue suit enters the room. At the same time the senior officer in the room stands, draws his weapon and fires.<br>The round flies across the room and after passing through the officers shoulder enters Marlowe's shoulder shattering the bone underneath.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>16-01-2007, 14:30:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The additional body between himself and the bullet takes enough speed off to lessen the hydrostatic shock, though the impact alone lifts Marlowe and the soldier into the air and back the few inches into the wall... "Ah FUCK!"&nbsp; the pain's like a bowling ball dropped on his shoulder, and his arm won't lift the pistol from the holster... the nerves firing too many impulses to distinguish pain from movement-command... <br><br>He's astounded that the head officer would so carelessly shoot his own man... but that, he realizes, was a stupid mistake to make.&nbsp; Marlowe should have expected a bureaucrat to put his own safety and agenda far over those of other humans, ally or enemy.<br><br>The officer atop him writhes, half-stifles a cry of pain, as they sink to the floor.&nbsp; Marlowe, shock having not set in yet, hisses into the agent's ear.&nbsp; "Forgot your fuckin' vest today?&nbsp; Just my luck..."&nbsp; He takes a drag from the lit cigarette still dangling from his lips as the officers move to take the gun away from his feeble reach, and looks down at the officer's shoulder and his own.&nbsp; "Aw, it's through-and-through, Nancy... you'll be fine.&nbsp; I'm at shit-all, though... thanks a lot."&nbsp; <br><br>He looked up at the head officer, pistol still smoking in his hand, and made himself a promise to live long enough to make that fuck suffer.&nbsp; Or else come back for him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>17-01-2007, 01:51:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The officer grimaces and holds back a cry of pain "I didn't think the bastard would shoot me" he whispers back to Marlowe.<br><br>With a whince he rolls over and gingerly pushes him self up with his one good arm.<br>The senior officer moves closer to Marlowe "we're not here to play games sonny, we're here on national security" his previous politeness gone "You either do what we want or we throw you to the wolves so to speak.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>17-01-2007, 05:47:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe laughs... the sound echoing in his head as shock threatens to take hold, but he snaps back to reality... he scrapes one worn boot on the tile as he scoots his way against the wall, using it for a brace as he begins to think about rising.&nbsp; "Real fuckin' secure, eh?"&nbsp; He laughs again, scraping his way higher up on the wall, leaving a red smear as he writhes his way back to his feet.&nbsp; "I'm not your fuckin' lab rat, you tie-choking tosser.&nbsp; So you'd better shoot me again, and this time you'd better bloody kill me.&nbsp; Cause I'll eat your fuckin' wolves."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>18-01-2007, 01:32:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The officer ignored his threats.<br>"Jones" he addressed the officer he had shot " get a car for Mr Marlowe here and take him to the hospital, you had better get your self treated at the same time"<br><br>He turned to leave "Oh and take the rest of the day off" he said as a second thought.<br>Bumping into the new suit he glares at its occupants "Is he ready?" he asked sternly, any false friendliness gone.<br><br>"Yes, inspection room three" the man replied.<br>Finaly all the rooms occupants left, leaving Marlowe and Jones alone.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>18-01-2007, 14:15:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe blinks, as much in suprise as at the spots creeping in from the edges of his vsion.&nbsp; "I don't... fuckin... get it."&nbsp; He slumps down as the room empties out, then coughs once again and reaches for his fallen cigarette... taking a drag, and stubbing it out on the tile before blacking out.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>27-01-2007, 00:12:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jones stood holding his shoulder "Well don't look at me for any answers"<br><br>Moving to the door, he checked his weapon and after safisfieing himself that the magazine was fully loaded he clipped the tavern strap over and gestured to Marlowe<br>"Come on then, let's get you to hospital, I just want to go some where first"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>27-01-2007, 14:17:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe comes to, I guess, and hauls himself up despite his shattered collarbone and hydrostatic shock.&nbsp; <br><br>Where the skin isn't blood-soaked, it's starting to purple up, and he looks a little pekid.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>29-01-2007, 01:39:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jones walked over to Marlowe and using his good arm helped the anarchist to the door.<br>"Look, we need to get to the hospital" pausing he stuck his head out of the door and checked if any one was around. <br>When he saw the coast was clear he half dragged half walked Marlowe out of the room and down the hall way. "Weird shit is happening and it would be better if we got out of here pretty sharpish, so get your head together and help me when we get to the amoury"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>29-01-2007, 16:52:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				After a couple of Marlowe's fist clenched so tight that the knuckles turn white, he draws back, muscles tensed and prepared to plant a full-out, windmill of a punch on Jones's shot shoulder... reared back, gritting his teeth against the pain, he readies and-- <br><br>Stops, blinking with suprise, at Jones' words.&nbsp; <br><br>"Did you say the armoury..?"&nbsp; He shakes his head to clear it, and levels his gaze at Jones... "What kind of weird shit..?"&nbsp; he follows Jones down the corridor, clenching his shoulder and trying to keep an eye out without appearing horribly suspicious.&nbsp; A tough trick for a half-pale, blood-soaked, unshaven young man with fatigue pants and machinist's boots.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>04-02-2007, 00:57:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Come on, you've been out there. You must have noticed" Jones replied as he led marlowe down the suspiciously empty corridors.<br><br>"You've seen more "Drunks" than normal about haven't you?" He asked as they reached a door with a card lock on it.<br>Reaching into his pocket the officer pulled out a key card and swiped it through the lock, expecting the red to go green he pulled on the handle. Growling when the door failed to open he slid the card through again, this time the lock clicked and Jones opened the door helping Marlowe through behind him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>04-02-2007, 01:02:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe seems to genuinely consider the suggestion... "nnno, not really... but, then again, I was at the docks..."&nbsp; he scans the armory quickly, fighting back a wave of nausea and weakness from the eminent shock.&nbsp; "Got any epinephrine in here..?"&nbsp; Again, a mention of the drunks... "What the hell's going on out there..?&nbsp; Is it some kind of biological attack?&nbsp; Birdflu?"<br><br>Something about the soldier seemed genuinely concerned... he makes sure that the doorknob works from inside before letting the door close gently, silently.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>05-02-2007, 00:12:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I don't think we have drugs in the armoury" Jones replied slightly sarcasticly.<br>He moved one of the two seats across and indicated to it "Now sit down while I get what I need"<br><br>Jones moved over to the shelves and picked up a few pistols checking the slides and safetys before putting them back down "I don't like these glocks" he said to no one in particular&nbsp; " the old 1911s were better" .<br><br>He turned to Marlowe "So what do you have experiance with" he thumbed towards the racks of weapons.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>05-02-2007, 03:25:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe rolls his eyes, knowing they were bound to happen upon a medical supply closet... and that might be just as important.&nbsp; Rather than take the seat, Marlowe jealously eyes shotguns, assault rifles, and miscellaneous other longarms... mostly useless to him now.&nbsp; Not that he wouldn't stock up in case he could make a break for it... <br><br>"Well, I'm used to rocks and sticks mostly, but I'll take a bullpup if it's got a sling..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>06-02-2007, 01:00:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jones smiled and pulled a FAMAS off the rack, pulled several maganzines from the draw under neath and handed it to Marlowe "The shells are over there, next to the 50mils" he said as he pointed to a large steel cuboard.<br><br>Taking a Pump action shotgun and a 9mm glock for him self he grabbed a large hold all "What else do you think?" he nodded to the racks of weapons.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>06-02-2007, 05:00:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe shrugs... "Well, that depends on what we're hunting, sport--"&nbsp; he adjusts the shoulder strap and props the FAMAS against his hip before slamming a magazine home, chambering a round, and cramming a few more into his pockets... "A sidearm'd be nice... But unless we're going to the hospital in IRAQ, I think we might be going a little overboard."&nbsp; He levers back the action on a 10mm pistol before easing it back into place, then setting the safety, slamming a magazine into it, and tucking it under his arm to chamber a round.&nbsp; The satisfaction of that elegant "cli-CLICK" is almost enough to drown the pain in his chest and shoulder.<br><br>Somehow in the midst of this he's lit a cigarette.&nbsp; "Got any more of that shit you huffed and puffed my house in with?"<br><br>He narrows his eyes in studying the soldier... funny, similiar wound and all.&nbsp; It could've been him in the other man's place if he'd just learned to take orders... "So what'n the hell IS going on in the world?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>07-02-2007, 02:59:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jones sat on the bench with the wepons to his back, with a serious look on his face he held his breath for a second before letting it out in a long puff.<br>"It's like this, the virus that every one has been going on about in asia, it's not what they are saying on the news" He picked up a semi auto and checked it as he talked "This is new virus something the govermant and scientist had though died out eons ago, something no one is told about"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>07-02-2007, 05:04:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe lets the cigarette hang from his lip as he tilts his face back, scrutinizing the soldier with narrowed eyes.&nbsp; He dryly intones, "Why, are you actually suggesting that the government isn't being up front?"&nbsp; He wraps an ammo belt around his waist, filling the web pockets with every ammo clip available.&nbsp; And if there's plastique, a taser, or anything else he can stash in the web sling, you bet your ass he's making a grab for it.&nbsp; <br><br>"Died out..?&nbsp; Let's see... I got five quid says it's Tuberculosis."&nbsp; He opens the door one eigth of an inch, bracing it with his foot in case a guard's waiting.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>07-02-2007, 14:59:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You owe me a fiver then mate" Jones replied with a sad smile on his face. Watching the anarchist load up his bag with goodies the officer began to do the same.<br>&nbsp;"It's not TB we're talking about here, something else. they're not saying what but it's bad I know that"<br><br>Jones walked to the door and poked his head out, how he was managing to move with a bullet hole in his shoulder was a small miracle but years of training in SO9 and the SAS had given him the will power needed.<br>Even so he recognised the need to get medical aid "Look we both need the medics right, but I don't want to go to the hospital. feel up to a little drive?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>07-02-2007, 15:33:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe shivered a little at fighting off the shock, and took another drag before field-dressing the fag and cramming the spent filter in his pocket.&nbsp; Best not to leave DNA behind, just in case.&nbsp; "What we need are some fuckin gas masks, then, right..?"&nbsp; He nods, gives one last look for any reinforced clothing... safety gloves, body armor... anything... and doesn't find it.&nbsp; And no gas mask.&nbsp; "They're not just gonna let me walk outta here with this hardware, I'm sure... but maybe if we go fast enough..."&nbsp; he shakes his head, thumbs the safety off on the machine gun.&nbsp; "Lead the way."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>09-02-2007, 01:11:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jones shook his head "Won't be able to get respirators, they're kept in our lockers and that will be full this time of day"<br>He stood thinking for a while "Wait here, I'll be back in a second" He said as he squeezed past Marlowe and made his way into the corridor "And keep the door shut" with that Jones set off down the coridor and dissapeared round the corner.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>09-02-2007, 04:30:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Right... wait here, door closed..."&nbsp; Marlowe rolls his eyes, checks the grip again, and steps out into the hallway... his steeltoed boots all but soundless as he edges up the hallway... "...now where's that fuckin' bureaucrat...?"&nbsp; he tightens the strap of the bullpup over his good shoulder and pulls the 10mm, disengaging the safety and raising it in his grip, resting his trigger-finger over the guard... everything he sees now is over the crosshairs of the pistol as he starts a slow creep along the wall.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>11-02-2007, 01:20:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The hall ways and corridors of the Police station were strangely quite, every one seemed to have disapeared.<br>If any one had walked into the front area they would have thought that alien had come and stolen the occupants for weird anal probe experiments.<br><br>As marlowe made his way futher into the bowels of the building noise started to filter to his ears, a random "tat tat" sounds with a whisper quite scream thown in. Any moment Marlowe might expect to see Yvette Fielding and Derek Acorah to come racing round the corner.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>11-02-2007, 01:55:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The grease-colored brick and spit-colored floors remind Marlowe of prison.&nbsp; Bare fluorescent tubes, wire cages over them like in a school gymnasium... clean but ugly.&nbsp; Unsalvageable.&nbsp; <br><br>The muffled popping sounds in the distance... it has to be gunfire.&nbsp; And screams..?&nbsp; Screams in a firefight meant someone was shooting back.&nbsp; There aren't enough shots for a firefight that would inflict casualties... the entire situation is fucked.<br><br>He starts to pay more attention to the doors, the walls... looking for a fire exit map, an elevator sign, a stairwell..?&nbsp; He needed medical supplies, but he'd take an exit at this point.&nbsp; Ideally, he'd be overjoyed to find a fuckin' security room... he could see what was going on without getting anywhere near the shooting, and might even be able to spot the bureaucrat... Oh, revenge, that sweet, vindictive whore...<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>11-02-2007, 02:22:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A door to the left of him open violently and an black uniformed officer barreled out. Knocking into Marlowe with enough force to take them both to the ground. With a moan the officer gotup and made a run for it down the hall way.<br><br>The room he had come out of appeared empty if Marlowe looked inside.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>11-02-2007, 02:31:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe is overcome by pain at the sudden jarring of his broken clavicle and pulled-perforated shoulder, and the pistol skitters across the tiled floor as he hits the ground.&nbsp; He really needs the epi, and maybe some fuckin' morphine, too.&nbsp; <br><br>Grabbing it back and leveling it at where the officer would be-- hammer back to fire-- the officer's gone, beating a hasty, echoing retreat further down the hallway.&nbsp; Marlowe emits a half-suppressed cough as he raises his head and looks.&nbsp; "...'sright, you dirty bastard... fuck with the bull, you get the horns..." he murmurs, then forces himself back to his feet, using the pistol-gripping hand for leverage AFTER returning the hammer back safely.&nbsp; He looks into the dark room behind... wondering from whence this guard was a-running... he tucks the pistol parallel to his chest, letting it point precisely where he's looking, and opens the door with his foot, easing his way closer...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>11-02-2007, 02:48:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The dark room is ominously quite, nothing is moving within the confines of the 12' by 12' area.<br>In the far left corner is another door, behind which can be seen a light and a figure walking back and forth between the light bulb and the glass so only a silhouette is showing. Slowly the figure can be seen turning; now it is either looking directly at the door or facing away from it.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>11-02-2007, 04:06:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe curses under his breath and presses himself flat against the doorframe-- he can't se if the man has a weapon or not, but there's a 50/50 chance he's been spotted.&nbsp; He levels his pistol and peers around the doorframe, taking careful aim at the silhouette's center-mass.&nbsp; He calls out as he prepares himself... "Hands up, chum... no way out for ya--" 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>12-02-2007, 03:04:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe can see the figure turn slowly and the siloutte get closer as who ever it is walks towards the door. Then a thud as the figure simply walks in to the door and a thunk when it's fist slaps the glass of the window.<br>Now an excited moan comes through the door as if the figure is eager to meet Marlowe.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>12-02-2007, 03:25:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe's eyes strain to make out the features through the glass and darkness... was that..?&nbsp; One of the sick, perhaps?&nbsp; <br><br>"That you, moaning Mike?"&nbsp; Marlowe nudges with the pistol to flick on the light switch, though something in his gut screams that he'll immediately regret the decision.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>12-02-2007, 03:44:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A moan eminated from the room in responce, as the light flicked on any hope Marlowe had of seeing into the room was dashed by the view of frosted glass with hint of a thick liquid running down the inside.<br><br>More monas came but not from the room in front of the anarchist these one came from out side in the corridor and they were loud as if several voices were crying out.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>12-02-2007, 04:29:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Turning, eyes saucer-wide and pistol raised... Marlowe backs into the room and closes the heavy security door behind him, thumbing the lock-mechanism on the door as it clicks itself securely shut... the shuffling and wet swathing sounds from without have him blinking in disbelief.&nbsp; Could that be who was being shot..?&nbsp; The infected ones..?&nbsp; Is this a purge?!<br><br>'Oh, bloody hell...it's either get infected or get shot now... it's Sidney or the fucking bush...' his thoughts are interrupted by the handle rattling, working slowly up and down as wet 'thlump' sounds echo through the room from that door... he surveys the room around him quickly, checks the frosted-glass door... where the hell did that lead?!&nbsp; None of this seems familiar to him, and none of these government fucks had a damn exit map ANYWHERE--!<br><br>Where'd the moaner go..?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>12-02-2007, 23:40:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The lights in the whole station go out as one. The sound of clicks as lock safety mechanisms switch is heard from every secure room. For several seconds of pitch blackness sounds are amplified noises not normally noticed are as loud as day.<br><br>With a wine the generators power up and the rooms are bathed in a pale red light with an occasional green glow when the emergency exit sign engage.<br>In the dim light Marlowe can see the door of the connecting office slowly opening, the security door of the small room is also opening. Finger are wrapped around the edges and someone or something is taking advantage of the locks disengage and is pulling it open from outside.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>13-02-2007, 04:19:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The sensation in his stomach is akin to the feeling of a cold snake uncoiling.&nbsp; &nbsp;Three thoughts occur to him at once:<br><br>The door swings out.&nbsp; If he tries to close it, they'll have the advantage.<br>The office door is opening.&nbsp; Someone, or something, is about to come through it, and there's a lot more someones behind him.<br>One is less than many.<br><br>Marlowe charges the office door, one boot raising in a front-kick that will send whoever is behind it sprawling with the door as the weapon.&nbsp; He was not afraid any longer, he was angry.&nbsp; Desperate, angry people infected with some flesh-eating virus or bird-flu.&nbsp; What a way to go.<br><br>Better that than shot by the cops.<br><br>If he manages to send the one behind the door to the ground, he'll train the pistol on him or her, crosshairs right above the nose, and scream, "HOW DO YOU GET OUT?!"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>21-02-2007, 00:35:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Yof ollo me" the muffled voice of Jones replies, his hand covering his mouth trying to stem the flow of blood from the cut lip he recieved when the heavy door smashed into his face.<br><br>The officer stands up slowly and Marlowe can see that his shoulder is now bandaged up, there is a little blood seaping through the crepe but nothing to serious. The officer is finaly to his feet and drops his hand so he can spit out the tooth the door broke when it hit his face.<br><br>He glares at Marlowe, his hand reches towards the holster on his belt and with one quick fluid moverment draws the weapon, flicks the saftey off and pulls the trigger.<br><br>The Body that was creeping up behind the anarchist drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes.<br><br>"Have to hit them in the head Cowboy" Jones says as he holsters the pistol and starts load bags into the trolley.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>21-02-2007, 00:52:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe, clearly not expecting to have fucked over Jones so severely, is kicking the wall in pain when he realizes who it is he just smashed into... hence he misses the creeper, and is nonetheless startled to the point of shock when the gun goes off in his face... the smell of cordite and blinding flash, the deafening ring-- and, for all he knows, a person just got shot in front of him.&nbsp; "What the FUCK was that, man?!"&nbsp; The now toppled body didn't look altogether wholesome... Marlowe stares, then as the door creeps open from the intruders behind him, he makes a connection; he's no murderer, but... these aren't normal people... are they..?&nbsp; Maybe its the shock that lowers his moral bindings, but he has no qualms as he lifts the 10mm semi-auto, leveling it at the doorway, and squeezes the trigger on the first head through the door, sending its contents in a wet splash against the faux-wood panelling beside the door.&nbsp; "Gotta go Jonesy... sorry for the door... which way?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>21-02-2007, 01:17:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jones loads the last bag in the trolley and takes the handle ready to push it, he stop quickly and reaches into his trouser pocket. taking out a bottle he tosses it to Marlowe "Pain Killers " he says as he [pushes the trolley in the direction it is pointed.<br><br>"Out the back I think, load up a Landy and then burn rubber for a pint" he says hurridly and he heads down the hall.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>21-02-2007, 02:29:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hammer back on the pistol again and watching the portal behind them, the bottle bounces off of Marlowe's head before he sees it and falls, rattling, into his folded arm... "nice shot, chum."&nbsp; He manages enough mobility to secure the bottle in his shirt pocket before turning and heading off a few steps behind Jones.&nbsp; "What is this fuckin' disease?&nbsp; It's like airborne Mad Cow or something...?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>21-02-2007, 02:48:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Don't know for sure" He replies. reaching into a bag he fumbles around for something.<br><br>"THREE O'CLOCK" he shouts suddenly as a door opens and the torn and bloody body of the Japenes woman shuffles out, arms reaching out for Jones . What is left of her mouth opens up, her lip curls back to revel the broken teeth inside. As she snarls and moves towards her target one of the teeth fall out and scitters to the floor.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>21-02-2007, 04:26:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Still thrown from the first kill-- though not <em>his</em> first... Marlowe goes cold when he recognizes the scientist.&nbsp; Trained reflexes from years before spring back to life, and he fires a smooth, rapid triple tap... exactly as he was trained.&nbsp; Two in the chest.&nbsp; One in the head.&nbsp; The 10mm resonates deeply, the shots so close upon one another that they echo as one.&nbsp; The first two pop through her sternum, the third enters her left eye and mushrooms out from her braincase.&nbsp; <em>That's four rounds,</em> he notes, leveling his gaze over the slide of the gun as he searches the room.&nbsp; "Sorry bout the crack before..." he skirts the twitching corpse, and can't help but wonder who else may be nearby.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>strangely made</strong> on <strong>25-02-2007, 02:52:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Bloody hell, where did you learn to shoot like that? you SAS or somthing?" Jones asked as he moved futher down the hallway to the back of the building.<br><br>The sound of moaning could be heard from several rooms they passed and the repetative sound of banging coming from inside of the cell block.<br>reaching the door the officer punched in the 7 digit code and pushed the door open slowly.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Marlowe</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Caustic</strong> on <strong>25-02-2007, 07:44:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marlowe doesn't answer.&nbsp; People didn't believe him when he told them about his story, and for those that did it was just a humiliation.&nbsp; <br>The dull thudding and rattling of steel doors and walls.&nbsp; Still holding the pistol ready, the face of the young woman swims in his mind-- a strange mix of the cold, professional poise before with the broken and vile remnants after... how does someone end up this way..?&nbsp; If he got a chance at the Suit who'd plugged him, he'd make the bastard suffer.&nbsp; If not... then the damage was done.&nbsp; Surviving in this rotting asylum would be enough for just about anyone.&nbsp; <br><br>He checks over his shoulder-- the shift bringing a twinge of fire in his shoulder for his efforts, but he resumes scanning every corner for more of the infected ones.&nbsp; "Careful with the d--"&nbsp; he coughs.&nbsp; "Careful with--"&nbsp; he winces at the resonating pain from the cough.&nbsp; "Ah, fuck it.&nbsp; Just go."
			</dd>
		</dl>
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