Post by Cliff Slade on May 8, 2016 10:43:03 GMT
”Again.”
”Oh cmon! Are you serious man? You didn't pay me enough for this spooky crap!”
”I said do it again! I'll take that twenty back if you don't do what I want!”
”Alright, alright… Fine. Just gimme a second to reload.”
The sound of bullets being loaded into a revolver echoed through the dingy warehouse. Cliff had rented out this large place a few days ago, and was dead set on using it to test the full extent of his Stand’s powers. A few light bulbs hung from the ceiling, giving barely enough light to actually illuminate their surroundings.
Cliff folded his arms, waiting for the young man opposite him to finish loading his gun. He'd paid this boy a small bit of cash to come to his warehouse and open fire on him with Cliff’s Grandfather’s revolver. Though his father never officially handed it down to Cliff, he had swiped it from its mantle on the fireplace before he left for New York a few years ago.
An impatient groan escaped the Stand User. ”C’mon kid, hurry it up! I don't have all day you know!”
The man with the revolver fumbled with the ancient weapon as he stammered out a response. ”J-just gimme a second okay? I'm not an expert at this kinda stuff!” He continued loading bullets in the chamber, though he was taking much longer than most should. The impatient tapping of Cliff’s foot rang out through the warehouse, causing the young boy to sweat a bit harder.
After a few more moments, all six bullets were finally loaded into the revolver. The kid smiled triumphantly, before closing the chamber.”Got it! Are you ready?” His voice was filled with unwarranted bravado; it seemed he had become cocky now that he finally loaded the damn gun.
Cliff raised his finger, calling for the boy to wait a moment. ”Yeah kid, just hold on a second. I gotta make sure my coat doesn't get messed up.” He quickly removed his coat, tossing it to the side with an overtly dramatic motion. It fluttered to the ground, landing flat on the concrete a few feet away. With a nod, Cliff turned his attention back to the boy with the revolver as he rolled up the sleeves on his shirt.
”Alright, this time I want you to fire the entire six shots right at me. If I'm right, I should be able to bring out my Stand and melt the bullets before they get to me.”
The boy stared at him in confusion for a moment. He'd heard Cliff talk about this ‘stand’ a few times now, but he still wasn't sure what it even was. If he had to guess, it was probably the name of some magic trick this guy was working on. It was the only way to explain how the bullets melted the last time. Regardless, he wouldn't ask any questions; last time he asked, Cliff threatened to knock his lights out. That wasn't something he was in the mood for. After all, it'd be hard to explain a black eye to his mother.
Cliff’s brow raised in confusion. ”You alright there kid? Do I need to slap you awake or something?”
The boy nodded. ”No no, Mr. Slade, I'm fine! Let's just do this…”
He raised the revolver, aiming it directly at Cliff’s face. His finger trembled as it wrapped around the trigger. Before the kid even knew it, he fired the gun. In surprise, he squeeze the trigger again and again, emptying out the entire chamber towards the seemingly nice man who had paid him not long ago. His eyes were shut tight as the deafening sound of bullets firing rang through the warehouse, hurting the boy’s ears quite a bit. Eventually, the ringing in his ears stopped, and he slowly opened his eyes. His gut told him he would see a bloody, hole-filled corpse on the ground, but to his surprise, Cliff was once again completely alive, a pool of liquefied metal being the only possible indicator that those bullets ever existed in the first place.
The boy took a step back in astonishment. He’d seen this exact thing happen less than an hour ago, but it somehow seemed even more amazing this time around. Of course, the boy didn’t even know what had done this to the bullets.
Cliff, on the other hand, was more than aware; he was the one who stopped it after all. In front of the coatless Cliff stood an incredibly intimidating man clad in metallic armor. Flames licked his fingertips as his right hand still pointed directly at the boy. The boy couldn’t even see this armor-clad warrior, however, as this was what Cliff referred to as his Stand. The Stand’s hand slowly lowered, the flames on his fingers dissipating. The rest of his form soon disappeared as well, seemingly phasing into Cliff’s body.
”I’m starting to get better. My reaction time went up just a bit even since the last time you fired…”
As Cliff went to retrieve his coat, the boy raised his brow. ”Reaction time? You didn’t even move an inch when I fired those bullets!” The now-coated Cliff chuckled, walking towards the boy as he retorted. ”How would you know what I did? Your eyes were shut tight the whole time.”
The boy looked down in embarrassment as Cliff snatched the old revolver from his hand and pocketed it quickly. With nothing to hold, the boy simply twiddled his thumbs, unsure of how to proceed. ”S-so uh, what do we… Do now?”
Cliff simply turned, waving the boy off half-heartedly as he replied. ”You’re done here, kiddo. Go find some other crazy schmuck who’ll pay for you to shoot at them. I’m sure there’s tons littered across New York.” He chuckled to himself again. ”Hell, maybe you can send one my way if you actually come across one.”
The boy nodded. Strangely, he was disappointed that he was being told to leave. He was really interested in this “Stand” thing, but this guy didn’t seem like the type to piss off. Without another word, the boy headed out of the warehouse, leaving Cliff all by his lonesome.
With no one else around, Cliff re-brandished his Grandfather’s revolver. It was quite the fancy looking thing, now that he gave it a proper look: it was adorned with strange patterns etched into the barrel, and the initials “S.S.” carved into the wooden handle. Despite it being quite old in this day and age, it was surprisingly easy to find ammunition for it at any shady weapons dealer.
”Don’t worry, Simon, I’ll make sure to uphold the Slade Family name. Soon enough, I’ll carve my name into the world, and I won’t need any pompous punks help to do it!”
”You sure you won’t need any help?”
For the first time in his life, Cliff’s body felt like it had frozen over. This voice was… Cold. Unnatural. Whoever just spoke was not a good person in the slightest. The echoes of booted feet rang through the warehouse as the mystery voice moved forwards with a speedy stride.
Cliff’s quickly swiveled around, turning to see just who his surprise visitor was. It was a man with unnaturally pale skin, and hair as dark as the night sky. He was dressed in what seemed like incredibly old attire: a large, leather trenchcoat, with a hat that would fit a cowboy if anything. The mystery man bowed graciously, before quickly taking to a stand. He spoke again, his voice just as chilling as before.
”I’ve been watching you for quite some time. You and your Stand are quite impressive… You’d be a perfect underling for my master.”
Cliff’s body tensed as he instinctively took a step back, his fists clenching tightly. ”Your master? Look, buddy, I don’t know if you’re aware, but I’m not the kinda guy who’ll just work for any old far calling themselves a ‘Master’. Now I think it’s for the best that you skidaddle, or else I’ll have my Stand fry you to bits.”
As if it were listening in on the conversation, Cliff’s Stand suddenly appeared once it was mentioned. It stood proudly next to its owner, a ball of fire burning brightly in its hand. The mystery man narrowed his eyes, lowering his hat slightly, seemingly to block some of the light emenating from the orb of flame.
”Such strength… Tell me, does your Stand have a name?”
Cliff paused. Stands were supposed to have names? What could he even call his? The man thought back to a moment during his childhood, where his father called him “A boy with a Burning Heart.” A smirk formed on the Stand User’s face as he revealed the name he only just formulated. ”You mean to tell me you've been watching me all this time and you don't know? His name is… BURNING HEART!”
As his name was revealed, Burning Heart flung his fireball directly at the foreboding fellow. It rocketed through the air, but when it reached its destination, the mystery man had already disappeared! Cliff blinked in surprise, before he suddenly felt the stinging pain of an elbow connect with his back. He stumbled forwards, nearly falling flat on his face from the force of the strike. He quickly regained his footing, as his eyes began to scan his surroundings. He searched hard, but there was no mystery man to be found!
A foreboding sense of dread coated Cliff’s being. He could tell that death awaited him if he didn't escape this warehouse quickly. He turned his eyes skyward, quickly punching towards the ceiling. His Stand mimicked his action, releasing a stream of flame from his knuckles. The fire smashed through the ceiling, creating a sizable hole in the roof.
Acting quickly, Cliff hopped off the ground, swinging his fist at where he once stood. Burning Heart shot another flame jet, this time directly below its master. Cliff was sent flying from the force of the flame, being sent straight for the hole he had just made! As he got within range, he reached out for the hole, grabbing at the edge in desperation. It seemed that once again, luck was on his side; he was able to get a good hold on the ledge, allowing him to climb up to the roof with ease.
As he finished his climb, he laid flat on his back, sighing in relief. Luckily, it seemed the mystery man wasn't able to keep up his assault now that Cliff was atop the warehouse. He was safe… For now.
The Stand User quickly took to a stand, hands placed triumphantly on his hips. He took in his surroundings, before quickly realizing a new conundrum was on his hands.
”How the hell am I gonna get down?!”
”Oh cmon! Are you serious man? You didn't pay me enough for this spooky crap!”
”I said do it again! I'll take that twenty back if you don't do what I want!”
”Alright, alright… Fine. Just gimme a second to reload.”
The sound of bullets being loaded into a revolver echoed through the dingy warehouse. Cliff had rented out this large place a few days ago, and was dead set on using it to test the full extent of his Stand’s powers. A few light bulbs hung from the ceiling, giving barely enough light to actually illuminate their surroundings.
Cliff folded his arms, waiting for the young man opposite him to finish loading his gun. He'd paid this boy a small bit of cash to come to his warehouse and open fire on him with Cliff’s Grandfather’s revolver. Though his father never officially handed it down to Cliff, he had swiped it from its mantle on the fireplace before he left for New York a few years ago.
An impatient groan escaped the Stand User. ”C’mon kid, hurry it up! I don't have all day you know!”
The man with the revolver fumbled with the ancient weapon as he stammered out a response. ”J-just gimme a second okay? I'm not an expert at this kinda stuff!” He continued loading bullets in the chamber, though he was taking much longer than most should. The impatient tapping of Cliff’s foot rang out through the warehouse, causing the young boy to sweat a bit harder.
After a few more moments, all six bullets were finally loaded into the revolver. The kid smiled triumphantly, before closing the chamber.”Got it! Are you ready?” His voice was filled with unwarranted bravado; it seemed he had become cocky now that he finally loaded the damn gun.
Cliff raised his finger, calling for the boy to wait a moment. ”Yeah kid, just hold on a second. I gotta make sure my coat doesn't get messed up.” He quickly removed his coat, tossing it to the side with an overtly dramatic motion. It fluttered to the ground, landing flat on the concrete a few feet away. With a nod, Cliff turned his attention back to the boy with the revolver as he rolled up the sleeves on his shirt.
”Alright, this time I want you to fire the entire six shots right at me. If I'm right, I should be able to bring out my Stand and melt the bullets before they get to me.”
The boy stared at him in confusion for a moment. He'd heard Cliff talk about this ‘stand’ a few times now, but he still wasn't sure what it even was. If he had to guess, it was probably the name of some magic trick this guy was working on. It was the only way to explain how the bullets melted the last time. Regardless, he wouldn't ask any questions; last time he asked, Cliff threatened to knock his lights out. That wasn't something he was in the mood for. After all, it'd be hard to explain a black eye to his mother.
Cliff’s brow raised in confusion. ”You alright there kid? Do I need to slap you awake or something?”
The boy nodded. ”No no, Mr. Slade, I'm fine! Let's just do this…”
He raised the revolver, aiming it directly at Cliff’s face. His finger trembled as it wrapped around the trigger. Before the kid even knew it, he fired the gun. In surprise, he squeeze the trigger again and again, emptying out the entire chamber towards the seemingly nice man who had paid him not long ago. His eyes were shut tight as the deafening sound of bullets firing rang through the warehouse, hurting the boy’s ears quite a bit. Eventually, the ringing in his ears stopped, and he slowly opened his eyes. His gut told him he would see a bloody, hole-filled corpse on the ground, but to his surprise, Cliff was once again completely alive, a pool of liquefied metal being the only possible indicator that those bullets ever existed in the first place.
The boy took a step back in astonishment. He’d seen this exact thing happen less than an hour ago, but it somehow seemed even more amazing this time around. Of course, the boy didn’t even know what had done this to the bullets.
Cliff, on the other hand, was more than aware; he was the one who stopped it after all. In front of the coatless Cliff stood an incredibly intimidating man clad in metallic armor. Flames licked his fingertips as his right hand still pointed directly at the boy. The boy couldn’t even see this armor-clad warrior, however, as this was what Cliff referred to as his Stand. The Stand’s hand slowly lowered, the flames on his fingers dissipating. The rest of his form soon disappeared as well, seemingly phasing into Cliff’s body.
”I’m starting to get better. My reaction time went up just a bit even since the last time you fired…”
As Cliff went to retrieve his coat, the boy raised his brow. ”Reaction time? You didn’t even move an inch when I fired those bullets!” The now-coated Cliff chuckled, walking towards the boy as he retorted. ”How would you know what I did? Your eyes were shut tight the whole time.”
The boy looked down in embarrassment as Cliff snatched the old revolver from his hand and pocketed it quickly. With nothing to hold, the boy simply twiddled his thumbs, unsure of how to proceed. ”S-so uh, what do we… Do now?”
Cliff simply turned, waving the boy off half-heartedly as he replied. ”You’re done here, kiddo. Go find some other crazy schmuck who’ll pay for you to shoot at them. I’m sure there’s tons littered across New York.” He chuckled to himself again. ”Hell, maybe you can send one my way if you actually come across one.”
The boy nodded. Strangely, he was disappointed that he was being told to leave. He was really interested in this “Stand” thing, but this guy didn’t seem like the type to piss off. Without another word, the boy headed out of the warehouse, leaving Cliff all by his lonesome.
With no one else around, Cliff re-brandished his Grandfather’s revolver. It was quite the fancy looking thing, now that he gave it a proper look: it was adorned with strange patterns etched into the barrel, and the initials “S.S.” carved into the wooden handle. Despite it being quite old in this day and age, it was surprisingly easy to find ammunition for it at any shady weapons dealer.
”Don’t worry, Simon, I’ll make sure to uphold the Slade Family name. Soon enough, I’ll carve my name into the world, and I won’t need any pompous punks help to do it!”
”You sure you won’t need any help?”
For the first time in his life, Cliff’s body felt like it had frozen over. This voice was… Cold. Unnatural. Whoever just spoke was not a good person in the slightest. The echoes of booted feet rang through the warehouse as the mystery voice moved forwards with a speedy stride.
Cliff’s quickly swiveled around, turning to see just who his surprise visitor was. It was a man with unnaturally pale skin, and hair as dark as the night sky. He was dressed in what seemed like incredibly old attire: a large, leather trenchcoat, with a hat that would fit a cowboy if anything. The mystery man bowed graciously, before quickly taking to a stand. He spoke again, his voice just as chilling as before.
”I’ve been watching you for quite some time. You and your Stand are quite impressive… You’d be a perfect underling for my master.”
Cliff’s body tensed as he instinctively took a step back, his fists clenching tightly. ”Your master? Look, buddy, I don’t know if you’re aware, but I’m not the kinda guy who’ll just work for any old far calling themselves a ‘Master’. Now I think it’s for the best that you skidaddle, or else I’ll have my Stand fry you to bits.”
As if it were listening in on the conversation, Cliff’s Stand suddenly appeared once it was mentioned. It stood proudly next to its owner, a ball of fire burning brightly in its hand. The mystery man narrowed his eyes, lowering his hat slightly, seemingly to block some of the light emenating from the orb of flame.
”Such strength… Tell me, does your Stand have a name?”
Cliff paused. Stands were supposed to have names? What could he even call his? The man thought back to a moment during his childhood, where his father called him “A boy with a Burning Heart.” A smirk formed on the Stand User’s face as he revealed the name he only just formulated. ”You mean to tell me you've been watching me all this time and you don't know? His name is… BURNING HEART!”
As his name was revealed, Burning Heart flung his fireball directly at the foreboding fellow. It rocketed through the air, but when it reached its destination, the mystery man had already disappeared! Cliff blinked in surprise, before he suddenly felt the stinging pain of an elbow connect with his back. He stumbled forwards, nearly falling flat on his face from the force of the strike. He quickly regained his footing, as his eyes began to scan his surroundings. He searched hard, but there was no mystery man to be found!
A foreboding sense of dread coated Cliff’s being. He could tell that death awaited him if he didn't escape this warehouse quickly. He turned his eyes skyward, quickly punching towards the ceiling. His Stand mimicked his action, releasing a stream of flame from his knuckles. The fire smashed through the ceiling, creating a sizable hole in the roof.
Acting quickly, Cliff hopped off the ground, swinging his fist at where he once stood. Burning Heart shot another flame jet, this time directly below its master. Cliff was sent flying from the force of the flame, being sent straight for the hole he had just made! As he got within range, he reached out for the hole, grabbing at the edge in desperation. It seemed that once again, luck was on his side; he was able to get a good hold on the ledge, allowing him to climb up to the roof with ease.
As he finished his climb, he laid flat on his back, sighing in relief. Luckily, it seemed the mystery man wasn't able to keep up his assault now that Cliff was atop the warehouse. He was safe… For now.
The Stand User quickly took to a stand, hands placed triumphantly on his hips. He took in his surroundings, before quickly realizing a new conundrum was on his hands.
”How the hell am I gonna get down?!”
