Checker is a Killer who claims not to have any supernatural powers, but is always one step ahead of everyone else, literally. You could dump him at a restaurant, get into a car, drive home, and he'd be sitting on your front porch railing. He is always the first person to be at a crime scene, and always the first person you meet when you go to the bar to get the horrible imagery out of your head.
He is obsessed with knives, and is always collecting them. He likes riddles, mysteries, and is a good sport about things. Sometimes, if a victim has tried hard enough, he'll let them escape. Checker is not always out trying to kill or maim people. He can be very normal, and sometimes will even take off his mask and walk into town, getting a drink at the local bar, and playing games at the arcade. He has the highest score on Time Crysis 3. He is called Checker because of his mask, which is gridded in large black and white squares. He has a good sense of humour, and is known to whisper, "Checkmate." right before he kills someone.
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Checker
The boy with the knives.
0 · 836 views · located in 
The Asheville Forest
a character in “Asheville”, as played by Vercerigo
Description
So begins...
Checker's Story
Mr. Smith's grin widens. "I still think you kill through your jokes, and no you are not my enemy. You would be dead." He takes another sip from his drink and sets it down. He moves in a blur of motion, and before Carlyl can react Mr. Smith has a pistol pressed under his chin. "Bang."
Carlyle tilted his head up a bit, his grin returning behind the mask. "Careful Mr. Smith, the last person who tried to kill me I fell in love with." His right wing slid down to the floor, moving back and forth as it swept the floor gently. "She's no longer of this world but I still have her body stashed away for safe keeping. I couldn't very well let her family put her in a grave. It just wouldn't be fair to bury such beauty. Don't you agree, Mr. Smith?"
Mr. Smith pulls back. "Who said I was going to kill you? If I were to really attack you I would blow your legs off, but we should not fight with each other when there are strong Hunters out there that need to be put down. Besides, you don't look like fun."
Carlyle's wing stopped sweeping the floor and folded itself against his back once again. "I don't look like fun? How is that?" he asked, trying not to be actually offended by this. His claw pierced through his thumb but kept scratching, ignoring the blood that dripped down into his palm.
Mr. Smith looks over Carlyle. "You seem like you would have too much fun. Though I'm sure the look on your face when I put a shotgun blast through you mask would be nice." He drops the pistol behind him, and it appears to disappear in the space between there and the ground.
"So....me enjoying myself takes away from your own fun? How harsh." Carlyle turned back to the bar and leaned back. "Feels strange sitting in one place for so long and being so low to the ground "
Mr. Smith chuckles. "I hear you. I don't being in one place for long. Someone might find me" He glances over at the door. "Speaking of, how ready are you for a fight? Because we don't have long before some trouble shows up, and it will difficult to deal with. I would like some help. If not, we better scatter."
Checker rolled his eyes at the boasting going on next to him. Everyone knew Killers had their own tastes, and sometimes said tastes could only be provided by, say, a fetus. No point in boasting about it. They sounded like bloody five year olds, bragging about how bad they were. He clenched his teeth without changing his stoic expression and watched Rosevault make his drink.
When Mr. Smith mentioned “trouble showing up”, however, he perked up. He felt good enough for a fight, although he knew from experience that trouble didn’t necessarily always take form in the shape of a fight. He chuckled, remembering a certain Killer he once knew, and wondered how she was holding up. His hand instinctively moved to his shoulder, and he gave a small smile when he felt the 3-inch scar there. He closed his eyes and smiled. Their last encounter had been brief, painful, and pleasurable. Red, red everywhere….red….Red. Red Rain.
His eyes snapped open and his smile vanished. Could Red Rain be the trouble Mr. Smith was talking about? It would make sense. His mouth twisted into a smirk. He would do exactly what he did to him last time, and this time, he wouldn’t sustain any injuries, and make good ol’ RR’s even more painful...if that is, Red Rain is what Mr. Smith was talking about. And even then, Checker wondered if Red Rain would have the guts to show up at a Killer’s Only bar.
When Mr. Smith mentioned “trouble showing up”, however, he perked up. He felt good enough for a fight, although he knew from experience that trouble didn’t necessarily always take form in the shape of a fight. He chuckled, remembering a certain Killer he once knew, and wondered how she was holding up. His hand instinctively moved to his shoulder, and he gave a small smile when he felt the 3-inch scar there. He closed his eyes and smiled. Their last encounter had been brief, painful, and pleasurable. Red, red everywhere….red….Red. Red Rain.
His eyes snapped open and his smile vanished. Could Red Rain be the trouble Mr. Smith was talking about? It would make sense. His mouth twisted into a smirk. He would do exactly what he did to him last time, and this time, he wouldn’t sustain any injuries, and make good ol’ RR’s even more painful...if that is, Red Rain is what Mr. Smith was talking about. And even then, Checker wondered if Red Rain would have the guts to show up at a Killer’s Only bar.
Carlyl frowned and looked around the bar. He wasn't one for fights. Especially when he knew nothing about why he was fighting. He preferred watching the senseless violence from a distance.
"Preferably not. Who would come in just to fight?" Carlyl asked. He looked over at Checker and waved with his fingers before looking back to Mr. Smith. He knew this was a bar for killers but it seemed strange nonetheless. Unless of course, there was someone who actually had a problem with someone else. Who was he to judge though?
"Preferably not. Who would come in just to fight?" Carlyl asked. He looked over at Checker and waved with his fingers before looking back to Mr. Smith. He knew this was a bar for killers but it seemed strange nonetheless. Unless of course, there was someone who actually had a problem with someone else. Who was he to judge though?
Mr. Smith does not say anything for a few moments. "I always know where my guns are. I met a Hunter recently. He seemed like he might be trouble, so I slipped one of my pistols into his bag...Doctors at that hospital work fast, don't they, Checker?" He finishes his drink and turns to face the door. He looks very excited. "Your friend from earlier is about fifty feet from the door up in a tree."
Carlyle hummed and slid off the bar stool and walked towards a window on the west wall. He pushed one of them open and leaned out the window, his large wings folded tightly against his back.
"So there is a hunter coming here? Who is the friend?" He asked, closing the window and turning to look at Mr. Smith and Checker.
"So there is a hunter coming here? Who is the friend?" He asked, closing the window and turning to look at Mr. Smith and Checker.
Peter Rosevault scowled at the three Killers, not liking what the conversation was hinting at. "If there's going to be a face-off, take it outside." He said gruffly, sliding the newly made Snake Bite over to the kid. "No fights are allowed in here." He made eye contact with each of them in turn.
Checker clenched his teeth and looked down at the floor when Mr. Smith mentioned the 'hospital'. He didn't answer. Upon hearing the bartender warn them about fighting, he glanced up at Rosevault and narrowed his eyes when he saw that the bartender was glaring at him. Finally Checker gave up and looked away, feigning interest in his drink. He picked it up and swirled it around a bit. "I think..." He muttered, "I think he's talking about Red Rain. I bloody killed him about four bloody hours ago. Now he's gonna kill me." He sighed and jumped off the stool, still holding his drink. He strolled over to the window that Carlyl was at and leaned to the left, looking outside. Although he couldn't see anything, he knew that didn't mean anything. Especially in Red Rain's case.
Carlyl frowned at the bartender. He hadn't even gotten his drink. "Fine. I'll be outside." Carlyle jumped through the window only to land on the grass outside. He walked a couple steps from the window before spreading his wings and pushing himself off the ground. He flew in circles around the Inn as he eyed the forest. He wouldn't bother with fighting if there was another killer. However, if a hunter was coming there he'd gladly help.
Mr. Smith put a few bills on the bar to cover his drink. He goes over to the window. "I'll be nearby, Checker, but it would be best if you appeared alone, in my opinion." He clambers out the window, awkwardly. He breathes in the air and suddenly flies up into the sky.
Checker rolled his eyes. Of course Smith could fly. Of course. Why not? Looking down at the ground, he pondered his situation. There was a crazy indian guy with a bloody sword hiding out in the woods somewhere, waiting for Checker to step outside. Red Rain had the element of surprise. Checker pondered his own assets. He had two...allies(?) who both disliked Hunters, and Checker had already killed Red Rain once. He could do it again. He unsheathed his hooked knives from inside his sleeves and fingered them. Of course, Red Rain would probably be a little smarter this time. He probably wouldn't want another killer headache. He smiled. Two jokes in one sentence. He sighed, swallowed the rest of his drink, and set it down on a nearby table. He blinked and opened the door, feeling frigid air wash over him. He inhaled deeply, and began walking with a confident gait, heading straight to the forest, openly displaying his knives
The setting changes from Mortem Pub and Inn to The Asheville Forest
"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" Checker called, scanning the forest with narrowed eyes as he rubbed his fingers against his Karambit blades. "I know you're here, and I'm really looking forward to killing you. Again." He said the last word with a smug undertone, pausing in his steps as he did so.
Mr. Smith makes a slight noise as he lands in the tree his gun is in. He grabs the gun and looks around quickly to make sure he didn't fall for whatever ambush was planned around it. "I found my gun. I know you don't like being indebted to me, but I have an idea. I leave you here to fight without me, and we call it even." He gives Checker a winning smile, and starts to jump from one tree to another like a squirrel.
Red Rain watches this from his bush. He was very lucky to find him so quickly. Also lucky that it was him that had found the man and not one of the others. He smirks to himself at the tall man's words. No honor among Killers. He thought.
Red Rain watches this from his bush. He was very lucky to find him so quickly. Also lucky that it was him that had found the man and not one of the others. He smirks to himself at the tall man's words. No honor among Killers. He thought.
Carlyle flew lower, by the tops of the trees. He had planned on perching on the roof of the bar/Inn but it was too high up to see anything. He flew in circles above the forest, his hands licking the leaves on the tops of the trees. He watched as Checker boldly walked through the forest, calling out Red Rain. He didn't know who this other killer was but He had shared a couple words with Checker and had watched him from a roof top. If Carlyle had to pick sides he knew where he would go but for now he just wanted to watch, especially now that Mr. Smith seemed to be leaving the scene.
His wings stretched out, moving over the air as they were meant to, occasionally folding up and pushing up through the air. Carlyle kept his mask on as he watched Checker, not able to see this mysterious Red Rain yet.
His wings stretched out, moving over the air as they were meant to, occasionally folding up and pushing up through the air. Carlyle kept his mask on as he watched Checker, not able to see this mysterious Red Rain yet.
Checker continued tromping through the foliage. He heard Mr. Smith speak to him, and although he couldn't see the tall man, he nodded in the voice's general direction. He heard a soft noise, and turned his head just in time to see a lanky leg disappear behind a tree, heading away from him. There goes Mr. Smith. He returned his attention to Red Rain. Where the bloody mary was he? He stopped and raised his arms, twirling his knives. "I'm right here! I'm right here, Rain, waiting for you." He gave a low chuckle. "Hurry up, I'm starting to get nervous!" He turned in a slow circle as he spoke, scanning the trees.