Yeah, but if you... man, we're getting into weird analogy territory, like if you disintegrated Superman's arms he wouldn't be able to go "fool! Little did you know that my arms and I are one and can be remade from me!" and will his arms back into being from pure nothingness. - Pendaran
Arx Inosaan
Yeah, but if you... man, we're getting into weird analogy territory, like if you disintegrated Superman's arms he wouldn't be able to go "fool! Little did you know that my arms and I are one and can be remade from me!" and will his arms back into being from pure nothingness. - Pendaran
Arx Inosaan
Barricaded behind the mobile bar as the vehicle swayed and chunks of glass shifted around her, Suzie finally dared to move once it had been some time after the last shot. She heard shouting at the back, but against the welling of blood crashing through her temples, she could hardly hear them, only growing flush as plumes of smoke and the scent of burning drifted from behind her.
It was a tour bus, but by the interior, it felt like it was the size of a lorry or a small aircraft. How far away was she from the front? Would she even be able to get off?
The vehicle swerved violently again, and she cringed, stuck in this enclosure surrounded by the vanities of a mad stunt driver.
...renovated wood, shattered bottles, clinking glasses about to join them...
With no way out, Suzie rapidly began to fall out of the moment. As her mind spaced out, propped unglamourously upon her tattered luggage, she tried to cope by meticulously appraising everything just below counter level in the bar...as unlikely as it would be there would be anything as usefully cartoonish as a bottom hatch to bail her out.
Toby Keith rather seemed to barely demonstrate any observance of standard safety protocols for a man of his apparent profession, but this wouldn't be the first thing she'd wrongly assessed today.
Miguel clung to the front seat to avoid being thrown about the bus. Sirens were in the distance, indicating there could be some help on the way. Maybe. But with two gunman and a psycho driver, there were things he didn't want to leave up to chance. Still, not much he could do about the gunman other than get shot.
Looking around, his eyes focused on the nearest window and attempted to open it.
Muffle coughing could be heard coming from the silent George, which seemed to infuriate the other.
"Blow this up your ass!" Aiming the gun directly at Vivian, Flors would find himself slightly distracted as...
"Fuck!" Flinching back, glass and flame splattered over the Florida Georgia Line. For now, however, the two were still protected, although whether or not the tear gas was effective would require more study.
From what Jinny can see, the guard rail hadn't been the only thing the bus has struck, as several overturned vehicles now lay in its wake. A handful of police vehicles were somewhere behind them, but they were obviously hanging back in caution.
It would become apparent that, despite the initial plush conditions of his bus, Toby didn't put too much thought into what he stocked his vehicle with considering just now much glass and wood had been pulped to a nice chunky pile of sharpness. Everything in that bus served only one purpose: to aid in killing those within.
It was strange that he was the first to try opening one of the windows after this long, but Miguel realized that the others' lack of investigation might have been for the better as the windows refused to budge.
"What the fuck?"
First Shorty's ax, then her cocktail. Sandra wasn't sure how, but they had somehow erected some kind of invisible forcefield to protect themselves. This far, the only thing that could get through was gas. That was probably so they could breath. Everything else was just shit out of luck.
Think Sandra, think. There has to be something around here.
She ducked back down to the floor and stared looking for anything like a spray can or another bottle of alcohol.
Jamie looked to Jinny and said 'Someone needs to get into the cab of this vehicle and stop Toby Keith before he causes someone to be severely hurt."
Turning back to Debra, Jamie muttered soothingly "It's going to be OK mom, we'll stop the madman in the cab before anything happens."
Critics who treat adult as a term of approval, instead of as a merely descriptive term, cannot be adult themselves. To be concerned about being grown up, to admire the grown up because it is grown up, to blush at the suspicion of being childish; these things are the marks of childhood and adolescence.
- C.S. Lewis
The detonation of the molotov drew John's attention away from Vivian, and he spotted the lighter in Sandra's hands. Immediately, he made his way over, trying to hide the spray can from the gun man's sight. As he approached, he whispered to her "I think the forcefield can only be breached by gas."
Boris makes it back to his seat and takes out a cigar from his suit jacket's left pocket. ( Maybe I should take a smoke to take my mind off this throbbing pain in my right leg. This day so far has been fucking bizarre!) Boris thought.
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Jamie could tell that Jinny's mind was racing in thought, thought that became action when she noticed Miguel nearby trying to open a window. Not sure what his name is, Jinny called out to him anyway, "Hey! Brother! We need to find a way into the cab to stop Toby and this bus ASAP. Can you help me?"
As she spoke, she moved up to the locked door that led to the driver's cab. While trying to hold on with one hand, she used the other, as well as doing a visual inspection, of the door. Thinking back to the other's attempts to use gas and fire, she hoped that there might be a crack or spacing along the edges. If so, maybe they could pry it open or inject some kind of gas or something between the spaces that might knock Toby out.
Last edited by Tami; 01-18-2021 at 07:30 AM.
Original join date: 11/23/2004
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When the impact came, it was all she could to hold herself fast and avoid slamming against the left wall; her purse, not so securely held in place, decided in the aftermath to make real good on its earlier threat and burst, spilling all of its less secured contents- loose change and bills that couldn't fit within her wallet, the three sprays mentioned earlier, a bewildering assortment of various other odds and ends and a rather sizeable flashlight- all over the floor, rather impressively adding to the degree of debris that anyone going back to front (or vice versa) would have to watch out for-
-something that for Gula would be made even more difficult as an odd, mildly burning smoke began to obscure the floor, making it next to impossible to see where she was going and- if it was what the man screamed- meant that crawling probably wasn't a good idea.
A moment later, once more on the ground and in the weirdly familiar burning smoke- having tripped upon the flashlight- Gula realized that today was not a good day for good ideas.
Case in point: when the one not George aimed to shoot, only to be (at least temporarily) thwarted by a mass of fire and glass hitting something in front of him and his partner in terror, she wondered if it would be worth it to try a distraction of her own.
It didn't take long to get the bright idea to try and blind the two with the light she had just tripped over.
Beginning to cough as though she had walked into a capsaicin steam cloud, she grabbed the flashlight- aiming it as best she could- and quickly switched it to its highest setting.
Assuming the thing didn't break in all the ruckus, Flors and George were due all the light the world's brightest compact flashlight could give them.
Whether they wanted it or not.
This signature intentionally left blank.
Jinny would find none. No seams, no cracks, no gaps, nothing. It was as if the bus had been built around the cab without any way in.
The light did... relatively nothing to George. The punkish man had yet to even look up since this ordeal began, having been so concentrated on something in particular and thus his gaze remained as floor-bound as before. Flors cursed, however, it seemed to ultimately do little to change their current situation.
With the growing smoke and gases gathering in the bus, George's coughing grew worse, prompting Flors to seriously consider his partner's health.
"...sunabitch" The man hissed, quickly stuffing his pistol into the waistband of his pants. It is perhaps around this time that some of those within might have noticed that, much like George's intense concentration, the two had been holding hands since this ride began. His right hand now free, Flors turned to the back of the vehicle and forced open the emergency door, setting off the shrill alarm and allowing the smoke and gas to billow out the back of the bus.
"Heyo, Toby! The fuck's the hold up?!" Flors called out.
"Amateurs." Toby said to himself, "You can't just rush an artist while they are in the middle of their work... but..." Glancing to his side-mirror, he noticed the state troopers had joined the local police, "... I suppose time is of the essence."
"All right, boys and girls!" He called out through the intercom, "You've just bout hit the end of the road, but as a parting gift, I'll give ya a view to die for!"
The bus suddenly lurched once more, this time all the gravity heading towards the rear and yet there would be no major impact. The jostle of the shocks informed them that they had found solid grounding again, yet it was as if they were driving vertically up into the sky. A casual glance would show that they were right, as Toby was defying the laws of physics and was barreling vertically up a building.