Play@YSDC

"You know, Craig," Jack said, toyingly wavering around the shotgun at his general direction. "Despite the fact that you dress like a.... well let's face it, a whore... and fashion senseless-whore at that... seriously where the hell did you get those bras from? They were atrocious! And that jacket... from which dead body did you pick that up from?

Acually you are whore, aren't you? Except you are a guy and you treat other guys to a big night out... so that would make you both a fraud and a guy-whore at the same time. Heard that happens a lot in New Orleans.

Well yeah, despite that fact, I think one day you'll truly make it big. Except you can't."

He suddenly trained the gun at him with a maniacal grin.

"Because you are dead."

OOC,That's true, but holding my fire could get [b]Craig[/b] killed. Shooting first was good enough for Han Solo. As it is, I missed anyway. I do get a second shot with the revolver later in the round, but [b]Jack[/b] gets his shot off first.

When Murray sees Jack point his shotgun at Craig and start to squeeze the trigger, he snaps off a shot that goes wide. "Next on won't miss!" he shouts.

Jack pulled the trigger, the blast shredding through Craig's chest. He let out a smile and, seemingly not minding Murray's gun, began to walk away.

Craig slumps to the floor, his chin clanking against the linoleum as he slumps. Somewhere, out within the cinema itself, comes an ungodly howling, as though the dogs of war themselves were released. The sound tears through your heart, shakes your very spine, and you feel your stomach twist at the horror of that sound.

Sanity Loss,0/1.

"Hehehe...hahahaha..." Jack said, laughing at some unheard joke.

"You should probably be getting out of here, detective. I think I have some business left here. Toodles," he gave a small wave and walked away.

"You maniac!" shouts Murray, disturbed by the sound - and by the shooting. He can't afford to chase after Jack, as he may only have moments to save Craig's life. He kneels beside him and does his best to stop the bleeding, using Craig's shirt to apply pressure. While he hasn't been trained for this, desperation has made him learn fast, and he manages to do a decent enough job.

OOC,This gives him back 2 HP, so he's down 9 at this point. It should also restore him to consciousness as long he has at least 1 HP at this point.

Jack let out a snide smirk at Murray's efforts to save Craig's life before he turned the corner.

Not the most ideal way to do it, but this should delay his efforts to find Ash or Rochelle for a while. Now he only had to find that Director's Office...

The bullet has torn through the side of his throat and he's bleeding quite severely, perhaps from a severed artery, but the cloth soaks up the blood and so long as there's pressure to keep everything in place, he should have time to live. At least, now Murray has time to find a longer term solution. If only they were back in the hospital, but there's no way he's going to be able to find his way back there in the unfamiliar foggy streets of Silent Hill. Craig clutches at Murray's arm, face pale and stained with edges of blood for Murray's ministrations. He'll need to get Craig to someplace safe to rest up while he sought out a first aid kit or, failing that, a sewing kit. At present, Craig's life is measured in hours, perhaps minutes.

Show,yes, it's mechanically unsound, but it's an NPC and therefore reality can intrude. Without any first aid kit or other medical supplies, it's unlikely that you can just wrap a jumper around a bullet hole and have him be repaired enough to walk around, especially as he was down to 0 hit points. If he were a PC, I'd downgrade the hit to make it a bit more logical.

Murray whips out his cell phone and calls 911.

His mobile rings five times before finally being picked up.

"Hello?" asked an elderly woman's voice in the typical drawl of someone's hard of hearing. "Who's this?"

Must be a crappy connection, thinks Murray. "I'm Murray Archer," he says, raising his voice to ensure that he will be heard. "I need an ambulance at the Artaud Theater. A man's been shot, and he's hurt real bad. He'll die without medical help."

"Travis? Is that you Travis? Who's that there with you? I can hear another man's voice...."

"No, ma'am, I'm not Travis," says Murray. "Like I said, I'm Murray Archer. This is an emergency, and I need an ambulance at the theater pronto!"

"Well, I need some things, they don't have any good things to eat, and I'm getting to be so hungry," said the woman. "Please come to Brookhaven and bring me something tasty to eat. They keep ignoring me and putting me in solitary and I haven't done anything wrong to those nasty women. I'll wait for you, there's a good boy. You bring me what what I need." And with that, she hangs up.

The signals must have gotten crossed somehow, thinks Murray. He puts the phone away and quickly checks the map. "Hang in there," he says to Craig. "I'm going to have to move you into the curtain control room on the other side of this door. Then I'll need to find a first aid kit or a sewing kit. If there isn't one in there, I'll check the dressing rooms next." He opens the door that had previously had its lock jammed with a tooth and takes a look at what's beyond it.

The jammed door leads to the corridor that flanks the theatre itself. The door to the Curtain Control can be seen to the right and is, luckily enough, unlocked and otherwise empty. There's an array of switches on the electronic control table, a circuit breaker against one wall, a metal closet, a mop and bucket, and other rather ordinary aspects to the room.

Show,Strength versus Resistance 11 to carry him into the Curtain Control room.

Murray somehow finds the strength to carry Craig into the Curtain Control room and puts him down gently, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. While he's in there, he takes a look into the closet in the hopes that there will be a first aid kit or something else useful in there.

Craig looks at him gratefully, still shocked at his injuries, but is still too hurt to speak. The cabinet simply contains old coils, spare fuses, and other such bric-a-brac. There's no first aid kit or anything like that in here although, surely by law there'd need to be a first aid kit or something similar around here. The dressing room might, of course, have a sewing kit and that would certainly help as well.

Something wet and heavy thuds against the door, sounding organic, like rotten meat slapping against the wood, leaving a schlick sound in its wake.

Show,Listen and Spot Hidden check.