=( I didn't die, but my ultra-promising child prodigy did during my second-to-last Let's Play turn. *sigh*
There's a short version, then the RP part.
Short version is, I rescued three enslaved children from a plastic processing plant and decided, due to their superior stats, that they would be my new lieutenants. During a raid, a police officer shot Speedy and blew out her lungs, and she later died in my arms.
I carried her body home and, seeing how massively the children's stats had risen from the battle, I decided to train the two remnants in combat and sneaking to bring the fight to the enemy. Game is, as you might figure, Liberal Crime Squad.
Perhaps foolishly, I caved into the fiery cries of the children and once again departed from the safety of our hideaway. This time we were headed for the Halls of Ultimate Judgement, the name given by Conservatives to the old town courthouse. The courthouse was strangely vacant as I swept the main entrance with Liberal graffiti, descending deeper and deeper into its halls. After spraypainting a long hallway, I decided the courthouse was much too quiet and began making my way out. Unfortunately, a Conservative officer worker and fashion designer spotted us. Without other recourse, the four of us began our Liberal assault, riddling the two with stab wounds and bruises. As I began to grin in anticipation of their death-cries, the office worker pulled out an M1911 pistol and shot speedy square in the chest! I knew Speedy's lung was damaged by the wheezing, but I couldn't stop fighting. I wouldn't let these Conservative bastards get away with the damage they'd already done! And so, I watched as the office worker soiled himself and the fashion designer cried for her mother... And then, silence. Nothing remained of the two but crumpled heaps of flesh, undeserving of a proper burial.
Urine. The scent of fear invaded my flaring nostrils as I carried Speedy on my shoulder, being careful not to drop my half-empty spray can for the Conservative trash to keep as a trophy. I will not allow them a victory over us! Such a fool... I should never have entered the courthouse, knowing things could have gone profoundly wrong... That they would go profoundly wrong in the end. So, smelling of rank piss, blood and fear, I Shepparded those children through the halls of injustice and met another group of scum right before the exit. Two traitorous lawyers and an armed police officer, ready to end our Liberal agenda in a fraction of a moment. They had heard the gunshots which had undoubtedly echoed through the court's grand halls, as the alarms were quite obviously raised. Should I run past them and risk a bullet to the back, or put up a fight and risk the lives of more children? Without any hope of fleeing past three potentially-armed Conservatives blocking the exit, I made the decision to fight for our lives... Armed with a can of spraypaint. Fool! What a fool I had been... Never again would I travel without a proper weapon in hand.
Expectedly, our fight did not go well. Hunter was shot by the officer's MP5, riddling his little arm with bullets, while the Lawyer's .38 pistol missed him entirely. Knowing that we could never fight hand-to-hand against two armed Conservatives, I took a chance. As the first Lawyer ran for the exit, I made the choice to burst through the two remaining Conservatives and gun for the exit. Speedy... Speedy saved my life. As I looked back at the children, the police officer opened fire and shot Speedy's torso three times, and as I held her body tightly in my arms, she whispered he final breath.
"...Thank you."
I had no time to think, no chance to stop running. I wouldn't put her down, no matter how she slowed me. With Hunter and Silvertongue in tow, we made it to the pickup and sped away from the courthouse, Speedy's slumped and bloody shell sliding this way and that in the front passenger seat. As I muttered curse after curse beneath my breath, I felt the innocent blood drip from my murderous hands, face, and body. I was bathed in her blood, in the last liquid remnants of her former life, and though I felt the sting of incoming tears, I felt no pain. Her sacrifice filled me not with sorrow, but with rage. Pure, vehement rage, as powerful as a dying sun's final moment before its fiery nova. And so, I burned that day's newspaper. I burned the filthy words uttered by brainwashed Conservative journalists, I burned the witness accounts of that corrupt Conservative officer, I burned the inhuman bile spilled forth from the tongues of these monsters, and I waited. I waited until each individual page had cracked in the flame. I watched as the ink billowed forth in thin black tendrils of smoke, acrid to my lungs. I breathed as the newspaper burned down to its last deceitful words, my eyes closed to the world. And so, I laughed. I laughed until my eyes and throat burned, until Hunter hugged me, despite his wounded arm. Silent but for the fire in his eyes, Silvertongue turned to me and said...
"I'm ready."
I could hear the passion in his words... The supernova of illimitable rage present within his very soul. But it was not nearly enough. Passion and desire would lead only to mistakes, and mistakes would lead to more death.
I would teach him all that I know. I would teach him to sneak, to persuade, and ultimately to kill. Yet before he learned to annihilate, he would learn to build. Without soldiers on the streets to enlighten the people, we were powerless; nothing more than savage terrorists preying upon the weak. While Hunter recovered, I decided to take Silvertongue to town in order to recruit new followers to replace the fallen. Looking over the .38 pistol and equipment looted from the courthouse, I decided we'd both wield M1911 pistols. If the Conservative scum wanted a fight, we'd give them a damned fight! Though Speedy lay dead, martyred to the Liberal cause, I would not let any of my people go down so easily. I am confident that Reaver, as he is now called, will do the same. Ordering Teach to grab the .38 and make sure Speedy received a proper Liberal burial, I leave Medic to care for Hunter. Reaver and I decide to pay the apartments a visit, a low-security location where I can teach him security and stealth skills with relative ease. I do not know what will happen, but I do know this: they will pay pay for what they have done. They will all pay.
So begins my legacy.
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Topic: How did you last die? (Read 2412114 times)