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Description
(Paint Shop Pro; 2005)

Corredeo Lacosta's hearing and vision were not what they used to be. He strained to hear the footfalls, or catch sight of movement. Nothing? He moved along, praying a silent prayer for Saint Michael's benevolence upon his trigger-finger.

From near the ceiling, Raul heard a tiny creak- from on top of those crates-- there! The guy was near the roof! Raul Gaetano moved cautiously infront of Corredeo, still having some rafters for cover, looking upwards as he walked.

Suddenly, from the top row, one of the huge wooden boxes was shoved by both legs towards Raul! The heavy crate shattered, scattering hundreds of tightly packed dark brown work pants

Raul Gaetano quickly jumped out of the way. His leg was clipped by the crate, causing him to stumble a moment. "--V********o! B******o!" he disliked sneaky fighters and this Slav was certainly one. He fired his right hand pistol four times at the area the box was shoved from, emptying the clip.

The last thing the man atop the crates saw was a constellation of muzzle flashes as the bullets claimed the black areas. One hit him full in the chest and he flew back. From the far side of the crate-island came a dropped-melon sound as he landed head-first...

--adapted from a scene RP'd on Furcadia

Description
(Paint Shop Pro; 2005)

Corredeo Lacosta's hearing and vision were not what they used to be. He strained to hear the footfalls, or catch sight of movement. Nothing? He moved along, praying a silent prayer for Saint Michael's benevolence upon his trigger-finger.

From near the ceiling, Raul heard a tiny creak- from on top of those crates-- there! The guy was near the roof! Raul Gaetano moved cautiously infront of Corredeo, still having some rafters for cover, looking upwards as he walked.

Suddenly, from the top row, one of the huge wooden boxes was shoved by both legs towards Raul! The heavy crate shattered, scattering hundreds of tightly packed dark brown work pants

Raul Gaetano quickly jumped out of the way. His leg was clipped by the crate, causing him to stumble a moment. "--V********o! B******o!" he disliked sneaky fighters and this Slav was certainly one. He fired his right hand pistol four times at the area the box was shoved from, emptying the clip.

The last thing the man atop the crates saw was a constellation of muzzle flashes as the bullets claimed the black areas. One hit him full in the chest and he flew back. From the far side of the crate-island came a dropped-melon sound as he landed head-first...

--adapted from a scene RP'd on Furcadia