The Old Stadium (Open)

Zack wandered the city as usual. His appearance startled most civilians, as he didn't look like anyone to cross. He was of average height and build, wore a ragged pair of jeans, worn combat boots, and an open brown leather jacket over a torn and bloody piece of cloth that was once a plain white tee shirt. The blood on the shirt followed the patters of the holes and tears in the cloth. Bullet holes stitched across the chest, a trio of slashes across the chest - all in a line suggesting they were made by a single attack, and several slashes almost at random. Though the bloodied shirt suggested that Zack had been wounded at some point, he walked tall and confident, and no blood dripped from beneath the shirt. If anyone cared to pay attention to the stains, it would become obvious that they were at least a few days old, long since dried. Zack's dark brown hair was slicked back against his skull and his hazel eyes darted from one shadowy alleyway to the next, as if searching for something. He walked in an odd, overconfident stride, with his hands up behind his head, reclining back as if leaning back in a chair. A Famas was strapped across his back, though nothing visible held it in place. With his hands behind his head, his jacket lifted just high enough to see a Glock paired with a wickedly serrated combat knife hanging from the back of his belt with no visible support like his rifle. However, by far his most unnerving feature was his grin. Eerily wide and menacing, it was plastered across his face and never went away, even in Zack's sleep. As he walked, humming to himself, Zack heard something. It reminded him of his old training grounds, and he stopped humming, tilting his head to one side to listen. His grin widened a fraction, and he seemed to melt into the shadows as he set off in the direction of the noise, padding soundlessly through the darkened streets. Reaching his destination, he remained hidden, watching the person before him with mild interest.

Zack chuckled as he walked casually out of the shadows in his bizarre strut, his boots making little sound as he strode forward. He spoke up, his voice sounding like he was in a constant struggle to hold back a fit of laughter. "Practice makes perfect, rocky, but perfection is unobtainable, therefore practice will never make perfect, and the idea of perfection is a lie. Practice makes spiffy, however, and one can never be too spiffy." Zack stopped about ten feet away from the base of Lance's pillar. His hands still behind his head, Zack rocks back and forth on his heels, chuckling at some unmade joke. "And you'll find, dear rocky, that some things are far tougher than stones." Zack seemed to twitch, but kept rocking on his heels, the glint of hysteria visible in his eyes.

Lance was first surprised and startled at Zack's approach. He listened as he talked. Lance sat on his pillar, still up above the ground. He looked down at Zack as if to say 'Why are you are?'. Lance sat there and continued to look on at Zack. See what he is about to do and get prepared in case Zack tries anything.

OT: It's kind off tough that my person only talks to himself. XD

OT: Get in the chatbox, SN!

ooc: Ah, yes, I can see where that may be a problem.

Ic: Zack raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to one side as he stared at Lance. Zack had undergone intensive training in his past, and understood quite a bit about reading body language, but even so, he could only guess at what Lance was saying. "Huh, a shyguy, eh? Wonder why you're here. If you don't speak, I guess I'll just have to assume you're some sort of nefarious ne'er-do-well, in never ending need of a never ending beating." Zack's grin grew sinister as he leaned in, his voice just barely audible, a cruel mania creeping into his voice. "Oh, do remain quiet, this city is far too boring and it's been far to long since I got to beat anybody without my leash."

OT: My Times of New Roman style makes everything I types look so short.

Zack's eye twitched when he saw Lance's smile. "So, we take door number two, then my rocky friend? This should be fun, I got shivers up me spine." Zack dropped into an animalistic crouch, only touching the ground with the toes of his boots and the fingertips of his left hand, the right held out towards Lance. Simultaneously, Zack's Glock seemed to roll over his shoulder and down his arm, coming to rest perfectly in his hand at the exact moment Zack had dropped, creating a fluid effect. Zack tilted his head almost completely to the left, sizing Lance up before squeezing the trigger. Using his fire as a diversionary tactic, Zack leapt forward, firing on the move as he closed the distance between them. Zack wasn't exactly accurate while doing this, but he was close enough that the chances of hitting his target were significant. Though he sincerely hoped Lance would survive and put up a fight, he hadn't fought a live opponent in weeks, and every muscle ached at the prospect of combat.

OT: Sorry I fell asleep and then school.

Zack watched the stone wall rise to protect it's creator before being launched at him. He threw his pistol on the ground in front of him and repelled it in the same manner he had pulled it to his hand, launching him just over the wall, his shoulder clipping the rock, breaking a chunk of stone away. As he landed, Zack's pistol flew back to his hand, and he ejected the spent clip as he ran towards Lance at an angle, pulling a fresh clip from the inside of his jacket and slamming it home, raising his pistol once more. He squeezed the trigger over and over, emptying the clip. He switched his angle to a direct sprint, running at Lance in an attempt to close the distance, reloading as he ran. "Nice try, rocky, but sticks and stones can't break these bones, and your soundless words won't hurt me."

Zack grinned wider as he saw Lance pull up more cover. He was close enough now, and drew his combat knife, licking the flat of the blade. Running up, he vaulted over the rock wall, landing with a heavy thud that cracked the ground beneath him. "Jack be nimble, Jack be quick..." Zack looked around, raising his knife close to his body in a reverse grip. holding the pistol up just beneath it. "Jack jump over the candle stick..." Zack stepped forward. "Jack jump high... Jack jump low..."

OT: Sorry I have not been on for the past 3 days. I was on a school retreat that lasted for 3 days.

Lance could hear as Zack had landed on the ground. He also heard him talking aloud to himself and thought to himself that this was his chance. Lance starts to focus very hard as the ground below Zack started to shake. The whole area that Zack was standing on slowly rose slightly. Then only a split second passes as Lance pushes very hard and sends the piece of land that Zack was standing on up into the air. Lance then said to himself.

"Jack goes flying off the floor"

ooc: Sorry... Fell asleep while typing last night. I tend to do that occasionally.

Ic: Zack looked down as the ground shook. Realizing what was happening, his shoulders slumped. "Aw, that's cheati-" was all he managed to say before being launched into the air. Though instead of flying an easy twenty to thirty feet like anyone should have been, Zack was lifted a good eight or so feet in the air before he landed with a loud thud that left a decently sized impact crater. "Oof... That was fun!" Zack picked himself up after a brief struggle and leapt back into the hole, still clutching his knife. "If I'da known the carny was in town, I'da brought more friends! How come there's only one ride?" Zack chuckled, looking around for Lance.