break time

[Lissachoa]

"for a mo"?

*chuckels*

alright, I'm game for hanging out.

[Murduck]

Cool. *shifts myself out of my seat* Err how about a trip to the err.. state-of-the-art exclusive shooting range at the roof top..?

[Lissachoa]

hmmm, sounds nice and private, why not?

[Murduck]

Alright, on your feet, love. You're going to love this.

~ He takes her off up to the roof through series of spiralling staircases that seemed to be made for a madhouse, pass eerily dark hallways and finally they reached the very top of the hellbound magically distorted Willy Wonka cathedral, known as Kong. He swaggered over casually to a rusty air-vent situated at the very top and pulled out two shot guns. Passing one over to her, and wiping his barrel with his shirt, carelessly, he gazed down at the cemetary, shifting his eyes towards anything that moved. ~

I've been doing this for a while to let out some steam, y'know? Makes good therapy as the fucking manic-psychologist always tells me. *mutters gruffly, cocking the shotgun and aiming it down at something that could barely be seen through the fog*

The trick is to keep both eyes open..

BANG!

~ They heard the loud thump of a body hitting the earth. ~

[Lissachoa]

sweet.

*takes off my jacket and tosses it to the side*

Daddy taught me how to handle one of these once, I was only 6 though.

*cocks it before standing still for a moment then shooting it towards the sky, as a result one of the crows fell to the ground*

Ah, still got it.

[Murduck]

*Looks down at the crow, feeling a little sorry for it*

At least it's not Cortez. Shoot him, and it's like shooting me. *shrugs, taking aim once more*

[Lissachoa]

hmmm, tempting

* chuckels as I reload*

[Murduck]

Oh what a comedian..*pulls the trigger, blowing the head off another zombie*

~ For the rest of the time being, they shot at birds, zombies and passerby's, managing to scounder a few on the buttocks, arm or leg, and have a good laugh. Both caught up in their own track of mind, they were quiet most of the time, exchanging little comments and critiques about each other's shooting but nothing more.

Night fell, and it was getting too cold and dark to see. ~

*Places the shotgun on the ground, rubbing my palms together, before looking over at Choa shivering, and out of rare compassion, removes my jacket placing it over her shoulders*

You were err..looking a little blue there..

[Lissachoa]

...umm, right. well I like blue but I hate the cold, odd if you ask me.

thanks.

[Murduck]

*Clears throat*
Urhm well, blue isn't a nice colour on you. You already look dead as it is..

[Lissachoa]

you say it like it's a bad thing.

[Murduck]

Looking dead isn't really my cup of tea. *shrugs*

[Lissachoa]

well it's not like I can get a tan out here anyways.

*puts my arms in his jackets sleeves*

[Murduck]

There's always those err..slap-on tans..I think that Donatella Versace bird over-indulged with that product. She stunningly resembles a leather couch I once had.

[Lissachoa]

no thanks, I would want one naturally without help.

*rubs my hands togeather*