For Justice? (DoC)

OoC: Sorry for the wait and whatnot. Using Ixchel. :3

BiC:

It was a spectacle for all to see. No matter what age, what background, this was the form of justice and entertainment for each and every one of them. Who are they? Why the residents of the town of Ziggen. They clamored at one location: the guillotine. For such a sinister location, one would not except such a crowd of fervent visitors, but for this town, this was the main event in their pathetically dreary lives.

But, one in the mass of people was not amused, despite her companion which was smiling gleefully upon the entire situation. Her eyes narrowed at the death machine before her, unsatisfied with its means of killing nor its popularly among the citizens of the town. It's so unsportsmanlike. Wouldn't it be much better to kill during a fight? Plus, It'd be a lot more fun. But, no. This place is so weak that they need a guillotine. Hmph. It would be much more amusing like the warriors of old where they are placed in a battle to the death.

“Me entretiene,” said a small stuffed bear that stood at her side. Its smile was rather creepy, but it was adorable nonetheless. “Yo quero ser el que lo mata, pero no puedo... entonces, no mas voy a estar contento con esto.”

“Psh, of course you would want to be the one to kill him, I would much prefer to be the one to kill him too, but nope. We shouldn't interfere,” she stared on, eyes unblinking. Their brilliant green shade was illuminated with a fury only matched with that she acquired in the thick of battle. “Maybe... we can interfere.” Slowly, the brightly clad person turned to face her minute pal, “What do you say?”

An eager jump was all the answer she needed. Teddy followed with, “Por supuesto que si!”And, with that, they pushed through the collection of people to reach the convict and the blade which was to take his life. Disgruntled 'excuse me's and 'dispenseme's flew out of both Ixchel and Teddy's lips as they steadily grew closer to the raised platform. Ignoring the angered stares and gruff names they received, they brought out their own blades.

“You go first,” the rainbow mage ordered, crouching low to the side of the stage, waiting for the prisoner to be brought forth. That would be where their chance would arise. “And, remember. We're not here to be inconspicuous.”

And, if it had eyebrows, this would be where the teddy bear would rise one. “Que?” it asked, obviously not knowing what her last word meant.

“Just be yourself,” she said simply, smiling at it. “Also, who knows what might happen and who will be on our case, just deal with it, alright?”

It nodded quickly and excitedly, “Si senorita!” Upon uttering those words, it scrambled up the first few wooden steps to the center stage, ready to leap at the prisoner.

Why do I always get myself into things like this? Ixchel sat at the bottom, expression taciturn. But, she knew that it was inevitable. She hated guillotines and those who used them. Besides, it was obvious that this town needed a bit of color in their lives. How much color would be brought all depended on those others that came forth. I hope there's at least one person who fights well here. Otherwise, this is going to be one boring trip. And, just as she wrapped up her thought, the executioner came forth, meaning that the one to die was not far behind...

OoC: Eh, it sucks, I know. No ideas.

The condemned was a tall, gangly man, probably in his early twenties. His hands chained to his sides and a sullen look on his unshaven face, the executioner waited as he shuffled up to the guillotine.

Meanwhile, Johnny Bones considered what to do, arms folded and skeletal fingers drumming rhythimically on his bulletproof jacket's sleeves.

One soul saved...he had ten thousand to go. Oh, gee, he thought to himself. Only that many. I haven't even started yet. I should do something bigger, like stop a war or give medicine to those poor yokels in Africa with AIDS and whatnot.

But then again...it would be his first soul. It should be personal.

A murmur ran through the crowd. A young woman and a little brown furball leaped up onto the platform. Judging by the sword and the wand, she wasn't here to kiss the condemned good-bye. And what the hell was that? A teddy bear? Moving?

What kind of grown woman goes around with a stuffed bear?

Johnny thought back to the sentencing. The condemned man had broken into the mayor's house--a right little bastard, the mayor was--and stolen some money or jewels or something. He didn't deserve to get a haircut going straight down to his neck for that, nor did he deserve to be savaged by a moving child's toy. If Johnny hadn't given up the regicide business, he would have dropped by the mayor's house for a little chat...

But, as the philosopher Jagger once said, you can't always get what you want.

Drawing his pistols, Johnny fired one into the air and crowed, "Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-haaaaaaaaaaaa!"

The crowd fled like rabbits. As he strode briskly towards the guillotine, a lone salmon swimming upstream against a herd of minnows, he noticed that many citizens were simply hiding so they could still watch. Damn, they must be bored. Yokels.

Hopping up onto the platform, the teddy bear greeted him with an annoyed look. "Quien es esto?"

"Oy, you little toerag," Johnny said indignantly, bleached bones shining in the sun. "Watch it."

To punctuate this eloquent and witty verbal barb, he held up a pistol by his side and shot the executioner in the face. The prisoner winced and arched an eyebrow. "Buck up, mate, I'm busting you out," Johnny told him as the girl watched him, apparently shell-shocked.

"Dude, a skeleton. Sweet." The prisoner held out his chained hands and Johnny freed him with another blast from the pistol.

"Dunno why you're here," he commented to the woman, reloading the Beretta and sticking the used magazine in a pocket. He glanced over at her. Attractive and murderous. Ah, yeah. The best chicks were like that. "But I'm saving this guy...hold up." Aside to the ex-prisoner, he muttered, "What's your name, kid?"

"Reeves."

"Right. I knew that." Johnny side-stepped to position himself in front of Reeves, twirling the pistols on his fingers like a gunslinger straight out of Tombstone or Lonesome Dove. "Now what?"