NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: More OOC explanation at the bottom.

IC: Crisco climbed the ladder higher, higher. The scaffold was only a few feet away, but it seemed like miles. He saw a spot where it looked like he could grab on pretty easily. Night was falling, and it was getting colder. His fingers gripped the ladder, then let go, as his feet propelled him over the canyon of steel and glass, the closest solid structure to break his fall was a skyway roof four stories below. His hands reached out to the right of him and gripped the bars, then pulled him in close to the scaffold. For several seconds, his feet flailed wildly, trying to find a hold to stand in. He finally got footing, and then began to climb up the structure. It was a building scaffold, they were extending the hi rise to accomadate for even more people. Across the way even farther was a giant billboard, suspended between the already completed high rise below him, and another office building across the wide skyway. He climbed sidways along the scaffold, until he reached the end. This would be the hardest part. The billboard wasn't very thick, it was about ten feet below. He would have to jump from the scaffold and land on the top of the billboard. If he missed, he would have the protruding lip where people stood to display the ads, about two feet wide below the billboard to save him from being splattered on a skyway window. He took a few deep breaths, then launched himself sideways from the scaffolding. He lined his feet up, and braced as they landed on top of the billboard. It had rained that morning, and some of the moisture had yet to dry from the high altidude where the billboard was. His feet slipped out from under him as he fell on his back. His left shoulder slammed into the top of the billboard as his right shoulder continued moving downward. His right hand shot out to grab on to the top of the billboard and it caught. He swung forward, then lost his grip and began to fall again. He spun in such a way that his side was faced downward, as it slammed hard into the protruding, grated ledge. He half expected to roll off and fall to his death, but he didn't. He simply lied there, inches from his fate, high above the Earth. His mind was blank for a moment, until he realized he could still complete his assignment. He thought about safe ways to stand up. He carefully rolled over onto his belly, and pushed himself up with both hands. He had to hold one leg up manually, as there wasn't enough room to rest it on the ledge. He slid his other leg up under his chin, and then brought his other leg up. He stood completely up, and reached over his shoulder into his sack. Black paint, Blue paint, and white paint. He pulled his shirt collar up over his mouth and nose, and began to spray over the middle of the billboard. First he sprayed a circle with the white, and then a blue doughnut with a black center. Next, drawn so it would appear behind the eye he had painted, he made the five points of a star. Then, off to the side, he made a crazy style "P", capped his paints, and replaced them in his sack. He was now much lower than where the scaffolding began, so he had to climb up the suspension mechanism which held the billboard up before he could return back to his original route. As he made his way back down to solid footing, he was filled with a great sense of pride. He might even get a promotion.

OOC: What's going on is a graffiti tagging war between the Cranks and the Poppas, two rival factions. The object of the war is to have tags in crazy spots, like billboards suspended high over skyways(I'll get to skyways). Each faction has three main jobs: Board of Directors(like bosses), who run the show, Defense, who go out finding the other team's tag and tag over it, and Taggers, like Crisco, who go out tagging crazy spots. What happened is the Cranks started tagging over places really badly, so the Poppas decided to declare war on them, telling them not to disrupt people with their tagging. It escalated from their, and much the way at election time people choose between Republican and Democrat, people are choosing between Poppa and Crank. The area is Kalosampton, the largest city in Maniaca, at over 600 million people. The way the city is set up is that it's built very high up, and since people didn't want to walk up three hundred stories to get to their office, people started making roads high up in the air, suspended between buildings, with different ways of getting your vehicle higher, such as ramps and elevators. These are called skyways, and come in all sizes, and interconnect much like roads, and some are enclosed. Obviously this creates some pretty crazy places to get to. So you can RP as either side, I'll post the tag for both sides. Make people up, do what you want, be the bosses, be just normal citizens or anything. There's not really meant to be a winnner or anything, just some craziness. Also note, the people in Maniaca don't really mind tagging, in fact they admire those who have the courage to tag crazy spots. Dig in, have fun.

OOC:

http://img134.exs.cx/img134/9179/poppa0wf.png
Here's the Poppa tag

http://img101.exs.cx/img101/9541/crank5aj.png
Here's the Crank tag

And everybody has their own style of doing it too, so if you think these are really lame, then don't worry.

And Bump.

(I hope it's not too long. Appologies in advance.)

The Smith brothers neared the bridge between the Empass Building, and the Dorim Hall. It was 4am and the traffic was slow now. Maybe a car every minute passed by the road. Johnas, the youngest brother, with his orange vest and construction helmet on, unloaded several traffic cones stolen from the highway department over the past year, and he started placing them about to direct the on coming cars down to one lane along the outside of the bridge. He didn't look the part nearly as well as he should, but most people out right about now were not going to be fully aware of what the three were doing.

The oldest brother, Gorin, was on the other side of the bridge, and operating the same way as Johnas. He had a stack of cones dropped off from the truck, which was now on the other side of the bridge with Johnas, and he started placing them about to direct the traffic to the outside lane. A truck was coming towards him. late night delivery of food goods packed in a small truck with a big yellow happy face was careening down the road, unsuspecting, at a good clip well over the speed limit.

Gorin quickly managed to jump out of the way as the truck ran though several cones and headed across the 1000 foot bridge. As he looked over his shoulder he could see the tell tale lights of the police chasing after the vehicle. The police vehicle passed by him too with great speed and the siren and lights signaled to the truck to pull over. Quickly the truck slammed on the brakes and pulled over to the side of the bridge and the police car unloaded it's two officers who proceeded to approach the truck from both sides with guns ready.

Gorin watched carefully and signaled to the third brother Frizzy to halt his preparation of the surface. He could see Frizzy watching over the incident which was now about 100 feet away and also hurriedly covering up his paining supplies to keep eye contact with the situation so he knew when to run. Gorin knew this was going to be a problem, so did the other two brothers.

The man in the truck started yelling incoherently once the police approached his doors and knocked for him to roll down the window. The Officer on the driver side announced his presence and asked the man to produce his ID. The man in the truck proceeded to yell at him about taxes, who pays his salary, and why the government should not be interfering with his work. after 30 seconds of this, Frizzy go the attention of Johnas and Gorin, then started to uncover the supplies. He signaled with his hands for both of them to continue their work and get this over with a great emphasis on speed.

Gorin and Johnas proceeded to lay out the cones and get the traffic down to one lane coming from each side, finishing near the end of the bridge so that they can signal the vehicles coming to slow down and prepare to change lanes with their flashlights. Things were going well. After 2 minute the Truck driver and the police were having an heated discussion about rules of the road and the Smith brothers were about finished with the road cones. The first few cars coming through the bridge slowed not only for the cones but for the traffic stop. Everything was going according to plan, with one exception, but they hoped to be out of the way in about 5 minutes. Traffic stops are notorious for taking half an hour or more. They were looking good.

Knowing that the cars would now be less inclined to drive over the work of art, Frizzy started painting the Crank tag on the surface of the road some where near the center, at a size 20 foot by 20 foot with a brush more closely resembling a push broom. He first dumped 2 5 gallon cans of black paint into a large square metal bin and then proceeded to dunk the broom into the contents and start spreading the paint across the roadway. Beginning from the head he slowly started to make his way down the skull. About half way through the head of the skull there was a man shouting out, "He what do you think you are doing?!" Frizzy looked up for a second to make sure that it wasn't the cops... But it was.

The second officer proceeded to start towards the kid of about 20 with one hand pointed at him, and the other in the tell tale sign of Halt with palm facing him. Frizzy didn't think that he could finish the paint job in time, but he knew that he could out run him to the truck to get away. Johnas was certainly watching this, and Gorin was too far away to get caught. He tried stalling.

"I'm... with the city and we are just sealing some cracks in the top coat while it's light on traffic. You knew how last minute favors are." Frizzy was still feverishly painting the skull so that it at least resembled the mark of the Crank before he headed out.

The policeman responded, "Uhuh... So that is a sealer huh? Why doe it not look like this new bridge needs a good resealing. It's only about 2 years old you know." The policeman was getting closer, but his pace was slow and methodical. He was not looking to threaten the kid. In the background Johnas could be heard starting up the truck.

"Well these things happen. Doesn't take much for a truck with happy pastries to come barreling down the road and drop some of their toxic products to make a permanent mark on the streets. Those things are really nasty you know." Frizzy was about done with the face. The next part was the jaw. The policeman was about 75 feet away and closing.

"So how long does it take for that tar to set? I would hate to have traffic blocked for the morning rush. Things could be quite congested at rush hour." The policeman was now about 60 feet away. "Tell me your name there son? I have to call this in."

Frizzy thought quickly then remembered his most hated teacher in school, "It's Fred Vilotia, you need my ID number? Just talk to Denny at the office, he'll confirm that I'm supposed to be here." Frizzy was now about done with the jaw, would he have time to get the finishing touches? not likely he thought, but maybe he could stall a little bit more. He now noticed that the conversation between the trucker and the other cop was very quiet. He looked up for a second and all eyes were on him.

"All right have it your way..." The policeman's tone was one of an interesting knowing voice, he was delaying on purpose. Frizzy could tell now. He was letting him finish. They surely all knew what he was doing he thought to himself. The policeman started calling in to the station to get in contact with the highway department, the trucker and the other policeman were just watching with big grins on their faces.

Frizzy moved even quicker now. The hard part was done, and the easy part was left. Just two more pieces and the work would be done. They could leave the cones were they were, but to not complete the tag was an insult and a greater stain then not putting it in a descent place to begin with. He had to finish it. He was close sooo close.

The policeman finished talking on the radio and renewed his attention to Frizzy. "Seems no one has ever heard of you. Seems that no work is supposed to be done on this road. So why don't you put that down and come over here so we can have an uninterrupted conversation about your need to paint the roadways... What do you say?" The policeman started coming closer again and he was now about 50 feet away from Frizzy.

It was about time to start running. It would be close, but Frizzy knew he could do it. He threw down a hasty and sloppy last brush to complete a pathetic tag of the Cranks, but certainly one with a good story. Frizzy stood straight then threw the brush towards the feet of the police officer as he raced for the truck. The police officer didn't bother to chase after the kid, he turned to the other officer that was staying by the truck as spoke normally, "So what do you think?"

The other police officer tries to respond but the truck driver interrupts, "I would have put it further from the center so that the yellow line would frame the mark." Both police officers give the driver a dire stare and he responds further, "What?! The road in front of my Building's a mess, they deserve it..."

Kyle made sure once more that his gear was securely tied to the top of the building. He imagined that rock climbing gear wasn't actually made for this but it would suffice. He was willing to bet that noone else would ever dare to tag a government building. "Now, if I can only avoid killing myself or getting caught this'll show those bloody cranks." Making sure he was well secured he went over the side using his rock climbing instincts to pick out the best hand and foot holds. He had carefully picked his outfit to blend in as well as possible with the muted official colors of the building.

As soon as he was over the edge he was acutely aware that his skill and gear was all that was between him and a very painful death a good hundred stories down. He had chosen this time specifically to catch the least number of people in the building possible but it was always possible he'd paint across an occupied office's window.

He put the thoughts out of his head as he pulled a can of black spray paint from his pack. He carefully began drawing the center of hte eye across some four windows. With any luck his tag would extend to exactly the sides of the building. His can ran out of paint just shy of finishing the center of the eye. He discarded the can by placing it on someone's window with just a bit of quick-drying adhesive and a strip of tape to hold it in place until the glue dried. He continued to work slowly and methodically finishing discarding cans as he went along in the same fashion. After nearly two hours he finished the P with a flourish of his wrist and signed the name "Kyle i Ancalime" which was of course not his proper name. He began to wonder why noone had shown up to place him under arrest. He was sure the police tended to ignore taggers but noone that he knew of had ever had nerve enough to tag a governmental building, he had been there for almost two hours.

His question was answered when he returned to the top of the structure. Waiting for him there, having obviously arrived silently, was a squad of police officers and one of the more influential politicians of the area. The politician spoke first, "You know, I hate the color blue. You wouldn't have been allowed to finish except these morons that call themselves the police hadn't been to afraid to go over after you."

"Shit!" Kyle murmered. He quickly weighed his options and jumped over the edge of the building hoping his gear could handle the sunded stop fifty stories later.

OOC: Points for stupidity...?

OOC: Wow, nice work everyone.

IC: The Poppa boss, Jericho Wrocke, was very pleased. He had heard many a passerby talk about the Eyeball on the billboard, and now one of his best taggers, Kyle, was going to stretch his tag all the way across a government tower. He hadn't yet heard about the Crank tag on the road, although it likely wouldn't spoil his day. It was fine work, but he had come to expect that from the Cranks. They were skilled taggers, and he respected them, he just had a job to do. He also hadn't heard about Kyle's run-in with the law, that had the potential to make him very angry. What one of his defenders was about to tell him would make him furious. Toro, more of a watcher than a painter, stepped into his office in the parking garage. "Yes, Toro, what have you found?"

"Sir, the Cranks have tagged the top of a church."

"Scoundrels. Which one?"

"St. Anthony's. A big skull pasted across one of the bells."

"oooh....."

"Yes, sir."

"Send someone out after it. Don't paint, it, just wipe it out."

"Who do you have in mind, sir?"

"That Crisco kid got a good shot up on that billboard, let's reward him. Besides, he's Catholic."

"Yes, sir."

In a few moments,Crisco was off once again. He lived close enough to the church to bike there, which would be good, no pesky busses with strangers and no long elevator waits. He left his apartment and followed the parking garage all the way down to the ground floor, some 200 stories. He had an assortment of paint removers in his sack tied around his shoulder. He arrived at the entrance to the church, the bells were too high up to be seen through the jumble of skyways. He leaned his bike up against the church, and walked in. A service was not being held, he couldn't figure whether that was good or not. There wouldn't be people wondering why he interrupted their service, but then there would be more clergy upstairs. He removed his hat and placed it in his sack, and began to climb up the spiral stairs. The church was the largest in Maniaca, probably the largest in the region. It was beautiful, but he had no time to admire it. He entered the hallway beside the nuns' quarters, and proceeded unharrassed. He turned the corner and bumped into a priest.

"Good child, what are you doing up here? If you'd like to confess, there are priests on the ground floor."

"Father, I was just wondering what made the bells ring with such presence through this city even though the buildings should block the sound."

"Oh. In that case, come with me."

The priest took Crisco up to the belltower. It was quite cold, even in the summer. Most outdoor balconies in the city had heat rise from the floor, but that wasn't deemed necessary for the church. When they got there, the priest explained the metal the bells were made from, and the way the belltower was shaped so the sound would ring around the buildings. He then expressed his disappointment at the large skull and screwdrivers on the one bell. Crisco then chimed in.

"Well Father, it must be your lucky day. I just came from the hardware store and I have some paint solvent I was going to use on a table in my apartment. Wanna' try it out?"

"Well sure! I'm sure it would work on a hard surface like this."

With that, Crisco poured paint remover liberally on the bell, and then scraped the Crank tag away. While he was being escorted back to the ground floor, he was filled with a great sense of glee. Now he was sure to get a promotion. While he was biking back to headquarters to report his success, he caught, in a passing glance, the image of the Crank tag on the road. Cars were driving over it, it was a shame that even though he was properly equipped he couldn't remove the tag. Then he got a bright idea. As he saw trucks passing over the tag, he emptied his sack of remover and tossed the bottles out over the tag. Then, amazingly luckily, An eighteen wheeler passed by. Several bottles burst open over the tag. It didn't do much, but Crisco figured as the cars passed over the tag, they would drag paint with them all over the road, and the mark would be irrecognizable. That was what he figured anyway. In yet another passing glance on his way to the parking garage, he noticed a man hanging from a government building.....

Ooc: Baddaarump!

OOC: I'm judging by the fact that Crisco is clsoe enough to see me I am to see him... Although since I'm 50 stories up I'm not sure how helpful this'll be...

IC:
Kyle thought quickly. He registered that someone was staring at him from the street. He thought he recognised him as one of their own. If he could get down to the street before he left maybe he could get out of this mess. "I've got to be quick." Quickly registering the proper direction Kyle pulled himself up about three floors before cutting himself loose of his gear. "Lady luck, we need a date tonight."

Kyle lithely sprang across the distance between his building and the one next to it that was much easier to climb. He spun himself around looking for a convienient way down. He saw a smoking balcony (or break balcony if smoking isn't legal) a few floors down. If he could get there without hurting himself any more than he already was (dropping fifty stories hurts even when secured) he should be able to escape in time.

Kyle emerged from the building onto the street he had seen the boy on earlier, defiantely worse for wear and running pursued by security until he left the building. He eyed Crisco and ran towards him as best he could manage. He gasped out, "Can you help me?"

OOC: Assuming Crisco would want to... Or I haven't gotten people mistaken...

As the two started to converse with each other, an average looking truck passed by. It's purpose and destination of little event, but it catches your eyes.

As you carefully examine it you notice that the large Smiley pastry delivery truck, with a bright yellow corporate logo of a happy face, was taged. The fresh black paint on it was quite obviously from the Cranks. The large skull and the marks underneith were all to obvious in their 10 foot by 10 foot dimensions.

Just above the mark a young boy of 14 was riding on top of the carrier with a cloth satchel, and a big smile on his face, taking in the sights of the city to find his next target to tag.

As the two started to converse with each other, an average looking truck passed by. It's purpose and destination of little event, but it catches your eyes.

As you carefully examine it you notice that the large Smiley pastry delivery truck, with a bright yellow corporate logo of a happy face, was taged. The fresh black paint on it was quite obviously from the Cranks. The large skull and the marks underneith were all to obvious in their 10 foot by 10 foot dimensions.

Just above the mark a young boy of 14 was riding on top of the carrier with a cloth satchel, and a big smile on his face, taking in the sights of the city to find his next target to tag.

OOC: That's crazy! Good work. Caras Galadon, I'll write a response to your post later, I've got to get to school. You guys are good though, seriously. It would be better if we had more people, but I think when we post more, people will think the thread is "popular" and then they'll want to do it because they want to be cool and everything....but this is fine though, even with just three people. At first I was scared no one would join...Yeah but anyway I'll post again in the afternoon.

OOC: I'm judging by the fact that Crisco is clsoe enough to see me I am to see him... Although since I'm 50 stories up I'm not sure how helpful this'll be...

IC:
Kyle thought quickly. He registered that someone was staring at him from the street. He thought he recognised him as one of their own. If he could get down to the street before he left maybe he could get out of this mess. "I've got to be quick." Quickly registering the proper direction Kyle pulled himself up about three floors before cutting himself loose of his gear. "Lady luck, we need a date tonight."

Kyle lithely sprang across the distance between his building and the one next to it that was much easier to climb. He spun himself around looking for a convienient way down. He saw a smoking balcony (or break balcony if smoking isn't legal) a few floors down. If he could get there without hurting himself any more than he already was (dropping fifty stories hurts even when secured) he should be able to escape in time.

Kyle emerged from the building onto the street he had seen the boy on earlier, defiantely worse for wear and running pursued by security until he left the building. He eyed Crisco and ran towards him as best he could manage. He gasped out, "Can you help me?"

OOC: Assuming Crisco would want to... Or I haven't gotten people mistaken...

"Listen, you look about my size, take my bike, ride it all the way down this road, then take a right when the road ends at an elevator. The road spirals downward, and if they're still chasing after you, there should be plenty of places to hide. I'll try and stall them if I can, if not, I'll see you again back at HQ, or read about you in the paper. Don't worry about my bike, if I can't find it I can get a new one. Good tagging there. Now roll!"

Crisco tore his shirt as he ran over to the door of the building, and lied down. Some cops ran out, and Crisco harrassed them for change, stalling them for about ten seconds. Crisco finally let up when one of them smacked him on the shoulder with his nightstick. Crisco walked into the building and caught the politician coming downstairs. When the man walked past, Crisco reached into his back pocket, peeled a sticker off a pad, and slapped it on his back, then quickly slipped into the bathroom, then into a stall, and clicked the lock, before the politician knew what hit him. He grinned.

OOC: Stickers! Forgot about stickers. They're like tags for people. You find someone important and tag them. Tag crazy people, tag crazy stuff. It's all good. Sorry I took so long to respond, I've had a busy week.

Bump