[OPEN] In the still of the silence

[Justin Novak]

He goes back home to a battle field
and starts to drink as some kind of a shield
For the anger instilled in him
and their looks are killing him now.

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Drop your weapon![/s] came the dreaded command from the policemen who stood behind the 17-year-old Justin. He was trapped, cornered, there was no escape. When the shout came, Justin stood frozen for a moment. There was no weapon in his hand, and he was entirely unsure what to do. Being only 17, he wasn't nearly so streetwise as most people like him, and he was about to make the biggest mistake of his "career" as a criminal. He reached down to the gun as he turned around, only trying to do as the policeman had ordered and drop his weapon. Unfortunately, his intentions were mistaken, and the three cops who stood there thought he was going to fire at them with the gun, and opened fire on him.

As the gun fell from his hand he heard the three gunshots almost simultaneously, and time, for an instant, slowed drastically. It was almost like he could see everything that was happening as the bullets sped towards him. Time continued it's painfully slow pace as the bullets pierced into his chest. Crushing pain ripped through his body growing more and more intense as each bullet struck him. He couldn't breathe, his vision blurred, and he lost all control of his body. Next thing he knew, he was falling back as if pushed by some invisible force that was throwing him to the ground. He didn't feel it when he hit the ground, it was just the sensation of infinite falling as darkness closed in on him. Before he knew it, he could see nothing at all, he could only feel the pain, and hear the muffled voices of the policemen.

For a moment the darkness lifted, and there kneeling next to him, hands pressed to the most deadly of the wounds was the man for whom Dustin held the most disdain: Chase O'Hara, the police chief. He could hear him saying something to him, but he couldn't comprehend a single word of it. Then the darkness closed in on him again as the sound of sirens seered into his mind in an unforgiving shriek. He was unaware of the fact that he was moved onto a stretcher and into the ambulance, all he knew was that not too long after the darkness closed in on him again, the pain stopped, and for a moment in time, Justin Thomas Novak was no more.

I would like to say for the soul purpose of the excitement involved in this that there was a bright light that surrounded him and he saw his brother standing there waiting for him. I would like to say that when Justin got to him Jacob told him that it wasn't his time, that there was more waiting for him, that the happiness he needed so desperately was awaiting him just around the corner, and with that being told, Justin returned to this world. But this was not the case. I cannot conjecture to say what it was that went on in that time when the heart monitor went flat since I myself have not experienced such an instance. All that I can say of this time is that Justin did not come back of his own accord. With a sudden jolt it was as if the pain returned, and the darkness continued. The jolt, of course, was caused by the electricity pumped into him by the doctors restarting his heart.

Then with a wave of relief the pain dulled down to a manageable throb as drugs were injected into his body. Next thing he knew, the sound of a steady beep filled the sterile air around him, and slowly his eyes drifted open. The last thing he could remember was eight before the incident that had put him in the hospital, and he was so severely confused that it almost terrified him. He didn't know why he was cuffed to the bed, he didn't know why he was even in the bed. He didn't know why there was a horrible dull pain originating beneath the bandages that covered his chest. That was when he heard the voice of Chief O'Hara, and he froze. He had been out for nearly a week, and the week before that seemed to have been cleared out of his memory.

Justin's borderline fear only intensified as the police started asking him questions that he couldn't answer. The way in which they were asked didn't help. Justin knew he should know the answer to each of them, but he didn't. The fear started turning into frustration as the questions continued and he still had no answer to any of them. Finally when it got to the point that Justin looked like he was about to find a scalpel and kill himself they stopped asking as they realized that he really couldn't answer the questions. The doctors then informed the police that when Justin's heart had stopped, it was likely that the cessation of oxygen flow to the brain had caused memory loss, just how much they couldn't tell at that point, but he obviously didn't remember the night he'd been shot.[/i]

After that day, life only got harder for Justin. Although he had only been 17 at the time, he was only a few months from 18, and as such as tried as an adult... and convicted as an adult. He couldn't say anything in his defense, since he couldn't remember what had happened, He was sentenced to five years in prison on a $50,000 bail, but had four of those years taken off his sentence by giving the police the names of the other guys who he'd been in the gang with before the incident. When that year had passed, life was still hard for him. Everywhere he went he was haunted by the things he'd done in his past. Being shot by the police had been rather eye opening for him, and he wanted to change. Unfortunately, being shot by the cops had been heart hardening towards him from everyone else, and no one would give him a chance to change.

After a while he got disheartened and gave up on becoming more than "just a Novak" and turned to street fighting as a means for survival. Sure, it was illegal, but whenever he tried to do things right, people just turned up their noses. So why should he try to do things that were difficult for him when no one cared? After a year or so, Justin had literally beat out all the street fighting competition in the area and it took too long waiting for someone else to move in and challenge him, so he moved out. He needed another big city where he could take all his frustrations out on the people who decided that fighting him would be a good idea. Too bad for them that they didn't know the half of what he'd been through. He was fighting because he was angry... because he could never do anything right except when he was fighting... because when he fought he was Inmate 1326... and all the pain of being Justin Novak slipped away into oblivion for the time being. He took it all out on them because they literally asked for it. He would never hurt someone who wasn't intending to hurt him or someone he cared about.

Chicago seemed like a good place to stop, it was far enough away that the guys who had slunk into the shadows after being beaten by him in a fight wouldn't be there, and he could start fresh with the crowd. True to expectations, there was quite a crowd there... and also true to expectations, his reputations preceded him... but in a good way. Everyone knew that Justin Novak was the guy to beat back in New York and that so far no one had managed it. Because of that, it took Justin hardly a week to establish himself there as a high profile fighter. He might not have ha much money to his name, but on the streets, your money wasn't worth a thing... all that mattered was winning the fight, and earning a reputation. I suppose in a way you could say they were respectful of each other. None of them would ever fight one another outside of the ring. It was a sport... a lifestyle... and it was their way of keeping is sacred.

They would often be as close to "friends" as you could be on the streets, face each other in a fight one night, and still be "friends" the next day. They were almost like their own separate community of people. When someone became a high profile fighter, the other fighters would treat them well. The sort of looked out for each other. Most of them weren't bad guys... most of them were just like Justin... misunderstood. They understood where they were coming from... they accepted the flaws of everyone around them because they had just as many as everyone else. Oh sure there were people that they looked down on. People who abused children, people who killed other humans, people who raped unsuspecting girls... those sorts of people would find themselves on enemy territory if they happened to wander into the street fighters' corner of town... but even so, none of them were perfect, and they were all okay with that.

Today, Justin needed to get away from it all though. There was a bit of a turf war going on between a few rival gangs in Justin's area, and he was tired of it. So he headed out for the more peaceful end of town. It wasn't long before he found himself alongside the river, lost in his thoughts. He liked Chicago a lot more than New York. In New York everything was man made and you could never get away from the roar of the city. Here though there were places like this that were quiet and open, where he could think about things other than watching his back. He stopped, and stood beside the river, just staring out at the water blankly, not really looking at anything, just thinking. It was a miracle he had lived this long, but he'd always thought killing yourself was a cheap cop out... and he never just gave up on life like that. Yes, he had given up on a better life because he believed he could never have one... but that was different. As far as he was concerned, he was either going to die old and miserable, be killed by some disease, or killed by some other human. Either way, he wasn't going to kill himself. Not yet anyway.[/center]

Words: 1826
Appearance: here
Notes: open to anyone[/size]

[Meadow Rodgers]

Chicago had the best of both worlds, in Meadow’s eyes. The city was full of life, and so was the country. And of course, it wasn’t too far out of your own back yard. One didn’t have to go far to find somewhere are pretty as this river, even if they lived in the shadiest parts of town. Then again, not everyone took the time to look. But it was better that way. Then the scenic areas would be less crowded and she could have more time to herself and her two dogs. Olive and Booker were her best friends, and she liked to get them out of their tiny apartment. Olive was the oldest, a Border Collie, Golden Retriever cross, she had a goofy grin and a comical black spot over her right eye. Her silky coat was almost all white, except for a few more black dots around her face, ears, and paws. She loved playing fetch in the river, and Meadow always brought her a rope toy. She was fast, and very obedient, so Meadow never worried about taking her eyes off of her for a moment.
Booker, however, was quite different. He was only 9 weeks old and he was already a handful. She supposed that was the playful, clownish qualities of the Pug showing through. Books was a cute little Pug, Boston Terrier mix, with a white stomach, and brindle body. His big, expressive eyes were almost hazel, but she was sure they would be a deep brown when he got older. While Meadow threw Olive’s toy, Booker found small things to chew on, and possibly have caught in his throat. The little mutt was a 24/7 responsibility. Meadow had to spend her lunch break taking him outside, because his tiny bladder couldn’t wait that long, and she hated the smell of dog pee.

Today, however, she was off work, thanks to the oh, so wonderful summer vacation she got. Yes, being a third grade teacher had its perks. Summers, weekends, and federal holidays off. Spending the day with a room full of kids eager to learn, and please. Young minds, sponging up everything she said. The responsibility did get overwhelming, what if she said something wrong? What if someone got hurt? Or lost on a field trip? It was always nice to have a break. But she missed her class. Of course, this year she would have a new one. A new room full of bright young minds. Chicago’s finest. Or not… A lot of them were city kids, with attitudes, bad reputations… and so on. But she still liked to think she might make a difference in one kid’s life. Just one person who needed her. One, who would later realize ‘Wow, she changed my life.' She didn’t want to be thanked, she didn’t want to be recognized, and she just wanted to know she’d done some good in the world. She wanted to know that she gave back.

Meadow could be considered a goody two-shoes, and the other teachers didn’t really like her for that. She was awkward around other adults, especially her superiors. She heard how they talked about her in the break room. That was why she ate her lunch in her room. Yea, she was quiet. But they didn’t prefer her talking one bit. Her comments would ruin a conversation in a heart-beat, and so she was never invited on group trips, or out to lunch. It never really bothered her. She wasn’t at work to socialize. But it wasn’t just work that her social life was like this. It was everywhere. She couldn’t talk to a stranger in a grocery store without becoming alienated. People who’d met her gave her strange looks, and avoided eye contact. She was like a virus.

Meadow never thought she was all that bad; she just had trouble connecting with other human beings, was that so wrong? Her animals and students seemed to like her. Her parents and teachers had loved her. There was something about her though, like she’d been stunted at the mindset of a 5 year old. Always aiming to please, always wanting to be everyone’s friend. Yet, work and responsibility wise, she acted like a 40 year old. Maybe even 60. Everything was to be neat and tidy, or she couldn’t stand it. It was a good thing she lived alone. Any roommate would go crazy having to live with her, and her order.

Now she was a bit more laid back, sitting on the bank of the river, watching Olive chase her toy into the water, with Booker in her lap, munching on a bone. Everything was rather peaceful at the water’s edge, and though she wasn’t alone, she felt as though she was. Of course, until Olive noticed their company. That was the only issue the dog had, she had to meet everyone she saw. And she was a jumper. Meadow had rescued her from the pound, and all of her quirks came along. With the soaking wet rope toy between her jaws, Olive made a B-line for the big brooding figure a few yards away from them. “Ollie!” Meadow called, standing up, starting to chase after her trying to reach her before the medium sized dog could throw her wet body onto the stranger.


Word Count: 888
Outfit: scififan.scifi-onlineshop.de/pics/darsteller/AlexisBledel.jpg
Notes: None.

[Justin Novak]

Justin certainly wasn't your average person, and he certainly didn't look like he was either. He was definitely far from any girl's perfect man. Though he certainly had some aspects of the "tall dark and handsome" going on, there was much about him that was just wrong as far as a dream man went. For the most part, he looked like he was constantly scowling as if he hated the world, and if he didn't look like he hated the world, then he looked like he wanted to kill himself. It was certainly not an inviting look. His whole overall appearance was just not appealing. Attractive, certainly, as far as physical features went... but as far as demeanor and his outlook on life... he was certainly anything but beautiful. He had all sorts of scars and other such flaws that he inflicted on himself by the lifestyle he had chosen, and he definitely had the look of a hardened criminal... of the ex-con he was.

As he stood there in silence starting out at the water, the sound of rustling grass and sand to the tune of walking... or rather running feet approached him. It was quiet, a light step... definitely a woman... or a rather small man approaching accompanied by the quicker and closer step of a dog. Whoever it was definitely wasn't someone he knew, but they apparently weren't thrilled by the dog running off and racing towards a stranger. He didn't turn to look though, he wasn't all that interested in the person or in the dog. Besides, for all he knew, it was just someone coming to the beach and had no interest whatsoever in him. Unlikely, considering the directness of the line the dog was making towards him, but he didn't want to make assumptions based on someone's footsteps. It just wouldn't make a whole heck of a lot of sense to do so.

He remained where he was and said nothing as she approached him. He cast a glance at her and the dog as they neared, but didn't instigate conversation. He never instigated any sort of conversation. He was more of the strong silent type who preferred to listen to what people had to say rather than to make them listen to him. He didn't want people to know him and the best way he knew to prevent people from knowing him was to simply not do any of the talking. Of course, he would talk when he had to, like when someone asked him a question or some sort of response was needed on his part to avoid the long awkward silences that no one... no matter how anti-social... liked to experience. Even a guy like Justin hated the awkward silences caused by someone's lack of response, so he always felt inclined to answer even when he didn't want to.

If he hadn't been as anti-social as he was, he might have said something. She was definitely an attractive girl, there was no doubt on that part. She looked like she was probably about the same age as he was, give or take maybe a year or two. She was about a foot shorter than he was, but that was a normal thing for him. He was used to being taller than most girls, considering being 6'1" made him generally taller than the average female. She was also thin, maybe a bit overly so, but he wasn't one to judge. Her dog... definitely wasn't one of the types that appealed to him. He was accustomed to the dogs of the "underworld." Mastiffs, Rottweilers, Pit Bulls... the sort of dogs that could rip you to shreds if you gave them the chance. His own dog, who had currently wandered off to God knows where was a burly dog who tended to scare people away, which was exactly what he wanted. The sort of dog a person had always said a lot about them.

As the smaller dog bounded towards him and the girl chased after the animal, his attention shifted back towards the dog which looked like it was probably going to jump on him in greeting. As the dog came nearer, "Chaos" seemed to appear out of nowhere, the short hair on her back standing up in a line, her lips curled up in a snarl, and her powerful legs sending her towards this stranger and her dog in huge bounds. Justin looked back at the Cane Corso and said in his typical flat and emotionless tone, Hold. The big dog slammed on the brakes a few feet away from him and looked back at him, towards the other dog and the stranger, then turned and stalked back to Justin and sat beside him, her hair going flat again, but the growl still in her throat.

The two of them looked a lot like one another. Neither of them friendly, both of them strong and very well muscled, scars littering their bodies from the many fights they submitted themselves to. They were both the sort most people would steer clear of for fear of what they might do and were capable of doing. On the other hand, underneath of all the scars and scowls were two beings who had been forced to the brink by hard lives and somehow found solace in one another. They'd been together for several years now, and Chaos was very overly protective of Justin, so much so that he had to make sure to tie her up somewhere that she couldn't see or hear the fights he was in or she'd jump in and take his opponent down. She was all he had, and he was all she had, and they got along like a pair of best friends who were the only two in the whole world who understood one another... and honestly, they were.

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[Meadow Rodgers]

Olive neared the stranger with leaps and bounds, obviously overly friendly, not aggressive. Olive was never aggressive. She pushed Booker around, playfully, to show him who was the boss. She would nip and bite, and it was clear, if she wanted, she could do real damage. But Meadow never feared for the small puppy, because he played back just as rough, but always submitted to her in the end. The two made quite the comical pair, her long legs and snout, and his short snout and big eyes. They were the best of friends though, even if they were so different.

Olive was much quicker then Meadow, being solid muscle while Meadow was a scrawny girl. Though she wasn’t far behind her dog. “Olive!” she complained, following in suit. The excited dog refused to listen though, even when her owner let out a shrill whistle. That must have been what had attracted the beast attention. A large tank, solid muscle, of a dog came tearing towards them, almost twice as fast as Olive’s bounds. It was clear that she didn’t want to play. Meadow never feared a dog, but simply gave them their space, but she did fear for her own dogs. She quickly scooped up Booker because the tall young man commanded his dog to ‘hold’. She listened obediently, and Meadow was rather impressed. The dog, though it had obviously been on a protective rampage listened without question.

By now, Olive had retreated to her master’s side, her tail between her legs. She knew she didn’t have a chance against the animal. It could take her out before she even got a chance to fight for her life. It was always interesting to see how similar people were to their dogs. Then again, that was normal. Active people usually wanted an active dog, like a Labrador, or Shepherd. Hunters wanted a hunting dog. Calm people wanted one who would lounge around a lot. This guy was obviously tough, and wanted a dog that was just as tough. Then again, he would have looked a bit silly standing there with a Yorkshire Terrier. And Meadow would look rather ridiculous with such a big dog.

Unsure of what to say to the rough looking man, she stammered. “I-I-I’m sorry…” she said, looking up at him, sheepishly. “She’s rude…” Meadow said, clipping a leash to Olive’s collar. Should she make conversation? Or just leave him alone? Had she cause enough trouble already? He didn’t seem very talkative, but… she pressed. “Are you new in town? I’ve never seen you here before, and Olive and I come here a lot to play…” she said, rambling slightly. He was obviously intimidating, but Meadow wasn’t afraid of him. Just, curious. That wasn’t unusual for her. She tended to annoy people with her 20 questions. “Is she a mastiff?” she asked, looking down at his large dog. She looked like she’d been through a lot, and so did he… She wondered what he did that would give him all of those scars and bruises.

ADMIN NOTE! Once again, we ask that you put spaces between each of your paragraphs in role play, as Jess is doing in Justin's posts. It makes it easier to read. If this happens again the post will be deleted because we have asked for these changes before.

[Justin Novak]

Yes, most people did want dogs that were like them, and Justin and Chaos were definitely alike. The big dog was tough and dangerous when she wanted to be, but one word from someone she respected and she would become like your every day house pet. Justin was obviously tough and his "career" choice made him dangerous, but he knew to recognize authority and wouldn't try to fight it when he was caught in the act. The dog hated strangers, especially when they caught her off guard or came too close to her, Justin felt the same way. He was wary of the intentions of everyone around him, even people he knew, the dog was the same way. Perhaps they only way in which they were different, aside from the obvious species difference, was that Justin was controlled and always seemed calm whereas Chaos was more rampant and liable to reach without a moment's notice.

He watched as the smaller dog retreated hastily back to her owner, and cast a glance at the dog beside him, which was still growling menacingly. He "kicked" her lightly with the side of his foot and muttered "Quiet." to her as the girl started to talk. Justin had put up with enough fighting in the recent weeks what with his own profession and the "gang wars" in the westside, and he didn't want his dog joining in on the deal as well. The whole point of coming out here was for the quiet of it, and he didn't want to start something. Besides, technically Chaos was still a stray. She wasn't registered and didn't have any tags, and he wouldn't dream of putting a leash on her to restrain her, so if cops or animal control were alerted because of a ruckus caused by her, they had every right to take her and send her to the animal shelter... or, more likely, to put her down.

That was one more way she and Justin were alike. Neither of them were wanted by anyone. Maybe that was why she had chosen to be so loyal to Justin and become his almost constant companion. Society looked down on people like Justin, and even if he hadn't ever done anything wrong in his life, he would probably still be scrutinized because of the ugly black blemish caused by his last name. There was never an honest Novak... at least, not before Justin... and because people had believed that there never would be one, he turned out just like the rest of his family, and over the years he became more and more dishonest... exactly as everyone expected. He never had a chance really. Born into a family of notorious jail birds who had been to jail at least five times for God knows what and were arrested on charges of DUI, MIP, ISA, GTA, and everything else you could possibly imagine, it was only "right" that he travel down the same road they had.

Then again... the "peace and quiet" seemed to be completely gone now that this girl had started talking. A nervous rambler... he seemed to run into a lot of those, probably because he tended to make people nervous, and he couldn't really blame them. He didn't really look all that friendly, after all. The moment she opened her mouth it was like she had suddenly broken the seal and now it would never stop. She stared out with apologizing, which wasn't needed, then moved on to explaining, which also wasn't needed. It was a dog, an animal... animals did things that people wouldn't exactly like, it happened, there was no explanation needed or an apology. But he supposed most people who were over saturated in "manners" and being proper tended to apologize for everything.

After that she moved on instantly to whether or not he was new in town and a moment later asked about the breed of his dog. He wasn't really sure how to respond to all of that at once, so chose to ignore the apology and explanation and move on to answering the two questions. "No," he said in response to the first, "I've been in Chicago a while, just normally not around these parts." It wouldn't really make much sense for a guy like him to hang out in the high society parts of town. He just didn't belong there. "I don't know what she is... mix breed most likely." Whatever she was, though, she was definitely a combination of breeds that were bred to be killers, but could be controlled by anyone who wasn't afraid of them and was capable of asserting authority and wouldn't be pushed around by them. Justin was just that sort of person.

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