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| After-Effect; Post-AC RP | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Oct 24 2010, 10:41 AM (21,539 Views) | |
| ~The Boss~ | Sep 11 2013, 01:44 PM Post #411 |
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Native Son
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((So I just realized something: Travis, Jenosa, Alissa... Warrior, Mage, Thief)) Ronnie and Jack slowly rose to their feet behind the bar, keeping their weapons trained on Travis and Z'Gato, Ronnie holding his blaster sideways, because of course he was. "What the hell are you talking about?" Jack snarled. "Why in the hell would Keaton be taking out his own people? Don't make no kind of sense." "Yeah," said Ronnie. "Ain't you supposed to be one of the good guys?" Keep your mouth shut, Ronnie thought to himself at Travis's mention of Jimmy. That was the other thing he'd emphasized along with "stay put." Don't say nothin' to nobody. Not one word. Not to the cops, not to the Feds, not to Jack, and especially not to- Hold the phone, did Jimmy actually mention Travis Clark? By name? Ronnie didn't think so, and yet, all of a sudden he could've sworn Jimmy did just that. Almost like... like... Like he knew something was gonna happen. Was that why he was so insistent that Ronnie not budge? Cause he knew for a fact that he was gonna require a quick getaway? Jimmy sure had been acting strange lately. And secretive. That was usually Grace's territory. Maybe he was just trying to pick up her slack while she was in the can, he thought with a laugh. In all seriousness though, something was up, and Ronnie didn't like being kept in the dark. Still, he wasn't about to betray his oldest friend. "Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?" "What's going on is our boys are down there workin' on somethin' that'll give the Pirates a kind of Hell they ain't never seen," said Jack. "And now some assholes in armor are tryin' to feed us some bullshit story to gain access to a place they ain't got no business in." He glared back and forth at Travis and Z'Gato with that one eye of his. "Either that, or Keaton's even more of a spineless coward than I thought." ((Not wild about this one. Open to feedback on how to make it better)) |
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| ~Deadly Aim~ | Sep 11 2013, 02:56 PM Post #412 |
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
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"DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THEY'RE WORKING ON DOWN THERE...?" Travis boomed, clenching his weapon in a rare display of anger; rare out of him these days anyhow. "Do you even care how man innocents were butchered or taken advantage of, or how it is violating the rights of every Federation citizen...? You've served like I did, Jack; I doubt that an old soldier like you would knowingly do it since we've both put citizens before ourselves, but I am asking you to trust me right now on this; your patriotism is being used to commit atrocities, old man. Oh, and for the record... If I was 'taking down our own' as you put it...? I wouldn't have gone through the trouble of infiltrating your establishment in full armor and just knocking your buddies out; if I were not here for a specific reason, there was little stopping me from just popping in your guard detail in their heads ten minutes ago. But, I didn't want innocent people to be hurt. "So, step aside and grant us access, or I will arrest you as a co-conspirator in one of the biggest scandals to hit the brass yet; either that, or you force me to go -through- you. Don't make me do this, old man." Turning his attention to Ronnie, Travis kept the same commanding tone. "As for you, Ronnie. Be smart; stand down." |
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| +CEMP+ | Sep 12 2013, 11:45 AM Post #413 |
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Clockwork Master
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(OOC: I actually think Jenosa may be more of a Spellslinger than a mage, but I suppose that's the closest relation she'll get in terms of classic RPG works. Then again I've always thought her more of a rogue or ranger with her acrobatics) "'Good guys' feels like an oxymoron with the bullshit they made me put up with," came female voice from the kitche door. There, standing with her arms crossed, leaning against the thresholod of the door, was Jenosa. Gone was her cheery demeanor when she waved to the shockede, frightened cooks saying, "Don't mind us folks, just passing through;" replaced with a serious, deadset one. "Name's Jenosa Arma, by the way," she said with only the briefest, friendly wave to Jack and Ronnie. "Also, nice kitchen Jack. Hoping I could grab a bite to eat after this has all blown over. Well, that's assuming we're all on good terms, and I fixed up how messed up my life has become; thanks to a few inconsiderate people underneath us, that is." She saw confusion in Jack's hardened eyes. "You don't know who I am or why I'm here, just like Jimmy didn't know about what's going on here," she spoke, occaisonal sarcasm lacing her words, but not directed at Jack. "But I'll tell, it's got everything to do with what they're cooking up down here. And oh no, it's not for the reason's you're thinking of. Not the reason's Travis has. Their research, in part, quite literally has everything to do with me." She paused, strolled a bit, and leaned against the counter facing them. "A vial of my blood. A vial of what's pulsing in these viens of mine. That's all they needed. And I probably would have given it to them if they had the damn coutrasy to ask. Heck, I don't want any trouble, and I probably wouldn't given a second given it a second thought to what they did with it, so long as they knew the risks of course." "But no," she spoke in emphasis, "they decide to dangle a fake bounty right in front of me, and to add insult to injury, use me as a damn hostage. I did nothing to deserve it; heck, they didn't bother to try and ask first. Not even compensation. Makes me wonder, in their persuit to 'win', just how much they forgot it is to be human." "Now, if you don't mind, we've got an appointment to keep." (OOC: Hmmm, feels a bit wordy, but heh) Edited by CEMP, Sep 12 2013, 02:36 PM.
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"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death." — Monty Oum | |
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| ~DarkKnightCuron~ | Sep 16 2013, 11:58 PM Post #414 |
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Starfeather
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Z'Gato looked between his fellow Hunters and the two men standing behind the bar with their weapons leveled at himself, Jenosa, and Clark. He honestly did not understand why they were having this discussion at mutual gunpoint--while Ronnie and Jack were holding their weapons up towards the Hunters, Z'Gato and Clark were pointing theirs in reciprocation. Why they did not just neutralize the both of them was beyond the Chozo's comprehension, but as always, Clark wanted to keep the bloodshed to a minimum--for good or for ill. However, there was one that that caught Z'Gato's eye--Ronnie's pistol in particular. The Chozo turned his helmeted head towards that particular person. "Plasma beam...? I see the Ice Beam was not the only Chozo technology weaponized for human hands," Z'Gato said, nodding towards the pistol so Clark would notice it as well--if he even knew what the suns the Chozo was talking about. "Now... you four can keep yelling and debating about this whole thing--or I can flatten this whole building with a Power Bomb and find the entrance in the wreckage," Z'Gato said, adding a bit more incentive for the bystanders in the bar to leave--which they soon did, by the looks of things. The bird warrior looked over towards Jack with an almost bored sound in his voice. "Or you can cooperate and everyone gets to see the next sunrise. I really have no preference either way," he said, more to intimidate than anything else. |
Marching to the Black Gates...
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| +CEMP+ | Sep 17 2013, 08:45 PM Post #415 |
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Clockwork Master
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(OOC: Quicky post) Jenosa rolled her eyes at Z'Gato's mention of the gun, "Did you do a scan of the gun, or are you just assuming? Because I know a Hydra 5 when i see it, and it always looking ready to melt a person's face off." While Jenosa might have held a tinge mirth in her demeanor when she had spoken before, as soon as Z'Gato started threatening, her expression turned very dark. "Ignore Sir Dodobrain over there," she told Jack and Ronnie, "He tends to swallow rocks into his skull from time to time. And if he so much as makes a mess of this establish-" her tone rose threateningly as she pointed a very serious finger at Z'Gato- "I will personally, and probably Travis, castrate him." Jenosa knew she was borderline pissing of the bird, but she didn't care, not with how thick he was acting; at least Travis, for all his anger, was acting within some sensibility. Frankly, she was hoping for it, if only to prove her point about him to Jack and Ronnie. |
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"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death." — Monty Oum | |
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| ~The Boss~ | Sep 25 2013, 02:10 PM Post #416 |
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Native Son
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The conference room felt more like and interrogation room. Maybe that was the point. Stick him in a little box and watch him sweat. So be it. He still had a trick or two up his sleeve. "What ever happened to not playing God?" "Would you prefer that we kidnap Miss Arma? Experiment upon her against her will?" Delacroix and Jenkins sat across the table, but Jimmy remained standing. That was the first shot across the bow. Subtle, but he wanted them to know that this meeting would be just a little bit different. "We've taken advantage of a unique opportunity here, Mr. Vega," Jenkins interjected. "You may not agree with our methods, but what we've accomplished here will save countless lives. Once we deploy the subject-" "It's a woman," Jimmy said, cutting him off. "A living, breathing, human woman. And not a bad looking one, either." "You really do have a one track mind, don't you?" Delacroix said, unable to contain his sneer. Jimmy thought about a glib comeback, but then decided that it wasn't worth responding to. "I spoke with her," he continued. "Had an actual conversation. She talked about my aura, or some shit. Grace believes in all that New Age crap. But anyway, she's got a mind of her own. Her own thoughts, her own feelings, and one of these days, she's gonna get wise to what's going on, and she might not like it that much." Jenkins said nothing, but nodded approvingly, having stressed essentially the same point to his people. He had no illusions about what would happen if something went wrong. Delacroix, however, was unconvinced. "What she feels is pride," he said. "Pride in her abilities, and in what she could potentially do. You say you had a conversation with her? Then you know that there's nothing more that young lady wants than to go out into the field and put herself to the test." Jimmy folded his arms. "Pride is a sin." "So's lust. What's your point?" Jimmy leaned on the table, staring the other two men down. "My point is that pride has been the downfall of guys like us for as long as there's been guys like us." He stood up straight, turning his back to them for a second and shaking his head, albeit very facetiously. "In your arrogance over this Frankenstein monster of yours," he said with a sarcastic chuckle, "you not only ignored what happens when these projects go south, but you completely forgot about the one man with the power to bring this whole place down, and the one woman with the will to make it happen." Delacroix's fist clenched. "Clark and Arma," he said, to no one in particular. "We figured they might be coming," Jenkins said. "We've had our people watching the skies." "Your people need to look harder. They're not coming, they're here." Jimmy waited for that to sink in. He was genuinely amazed that they had been so dismissive of the threat. "You've got a mole in your ranks." He was about to go on, but he could see their wheels spinning, connecting the dots. New face, clearance checked out despite sketchy details, access to secure systems... "That woman," Delacroix said. "The computer programmer..." "Simmons," Jenkins provided. Delacroix nodded in agreement. "She worked on my computer. She's had access to..." "To everything." Jenkins didn't wait another second. He got on the com and gave his orders. "Did you engineer this, Jimmy?" "I wish I could take credit for that, but I'm afraid not. Regardless, they've come for you. Take it as a professional courtesy." "We'll stop them," Jenkins said. "This facility is as impenetrable as they come." "That just means we're pressed for time." Delacroix tapped the reinforced case on the table with his cane. "May I?" "By all means." Jimmy pushed the case towards him. Delacroix popped it open, and amusingly imagined a glow emanating from within, accompanied by a heavenly choir. In actual fact, the contents were quite old and battered, and yet every bit as beautiful. The arm cannon. It was what Delacroix was after to begin with. The one thing that Marcus Vega had that he'd never give up. It was why he'd strapped Rex Vega to a bomb. He wanted Jimmy to know that he wasn't playing around anymore. But something was missing. "Hang on," Delacroix said, looking through the case. "Where's the notebook?" "What notebook?" He gave Jimmy an angry stare. "Your father's notebook! The one filled with each and every technical detail of this weapon! Don't think I don't know about it. Now where is it?" "Oh yeah." Jimmy couldn't help but smirk. "It's in my fireplace." "You think this is funny?" "I do, actually." Delacroix put his hands on his temples. If he was angry before, he was absolutely boiling over with rage at this point. Jimmy had him. He had him by the balls and he knew it. He just wasn't ready to admit it yet. "You mean to tell me," he said, barely suppressing his anger, "that you just destroyed the only technical information that anyone has on Chozo weaponry?" "It's all up here," Jimmy said, tapping the side of his head. "I could sketch you the schematic from memory." "That's fine, we don't need him," Jenkins said. "We've got the best minds in the business ready to take this thing apart." "Oh really? Turn it on." Delacroix and Jenkins exchanged awkward looks. It was clear within two seconds that neither one of them had the slightest clue as to what to to. But attempt to turn it on they did. First Jenkins, then Delacroix. They fiddled with the buttons, stuck their arms inside, but it remained little more than an elaborate paperweight. After several minutes, Delacroix threw up his hands in exasperation. "I give up!" He gave Jimmy a look of grudging defeat, and it burned him up to see just how much satisfaction it was giving him. "Allow me." Jimmy took off his jacket and rather dramatically draped it over his chair. Then he rolled up his sleeve and cracked his knuckles, making a big show of everything just to piss them off. He then gently slid his forearm into the weapon, and soon it flared to life. It then glowed with energy as it charged up, and fired a blast between the two men that put a huge dent into the reinforced wall behind them. With a smug grin on his face, Jimmy shut the arm cannon off and placed it back into the case. He then finally too his seat, propping his boots up on the table and looking very pleased with himself. "What do you want, Jimmy?" Delacroix was ready to just shoot him at this point, as imprudent and counterproductive as he knew that would be. "Well, for starters, there's my brother being off limits." Jimmy lit a cigarette and leaned back in his chair, blowing smoke up to the ceiling. "You so much as mention his name, and you find me dead under mysterious circumstances. Then you got no one who knows how this thing works." "You're bluffing." "You willing to test me? You been dealing with us Vega boys for years. You know how we are." "Fine. What else?" "We'll, you know my girl recently got sent to prison for killing Jenosa Arma. However, as you both know perfectly well, Jenosa Arma is still alive. And yet, Grace is still locked up for her murder. I want her free." "Done. Is that all?" "Oh, I'm just getting warmed up." And then the lights went out. ..................... "Now you listen here, you little sonofabitch," Jack snarled. "Bob Jenkins is a good man. If it weren't for him, I'd be missing more than just an eye. You really expect me to take the word of some punk in armor over a man who fought and bled by my side?" He stuck his shotgun right in Travis's chest, completely undeterred. "It's Travis Clark," Ronnie said. "I think maybe we should do what he says." "I don't give a shit who he is. He ain't supposed to be here." "He's a fuckin' boy scout, man! He ain't never so much as been late for school! If he says your boy is doin' some bad shit down there, he's probably telling the truth!" At this point, everyone was just yelling at each other. The last of the civilians had cleared out, but some were still milling around outside. A few of them had come across the third mercenary, the red-haired young man, still dizzy after getting his bell rung. These last few drunks mistook this armed man for another one of the hunters. The merc, not quite yet clear-headed, did the same in reverse. Things went downhill from there. Someone fired a shot. It whizzed past Jack's head and shattered a bottle of vodka. Jack pulled the trigger. ..................... "Lieutenant Simmons! Up against the wall! Hands where we can seem them!" |
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| ~Deadly Aim~ | Sep 25 2013, 03:39 PM Post #417 |
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
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Jack's impassioned, angry words struck a chord for Travis. It was hard to tell looking through the visor and all, but beneath the helm, his eyebrows folded flat. Sympathy? It wasn't quite like that. No, for Travis it was more of a mutual understanding; he didn't entirely fault Jack's spirited defense of Jenkins in that light. He knew all too well what it was like; to descend into the darkness, into what felt like the maw of hell with only your armaments, God and and your comrades at your side. He knew all too well the terrible cost to keep the peace and extinguish the flames of war. And in the Commando Corps, there was no show, no glorious homecoming. Cunningham, Bates, Nu'kriin, Larson, Xavier... and the names didn't stop there. For a moment his thoughts turned to Jessie Falcon, who had since "perished" along with her brother, the legendary "Captain" Douglas Falcon. And of course, the two that always hurt the most to think about... Trisha, and his father. He knew far too well the pains and gains of camaraderie... and in truth, knew that he might have said similar things in Jack's position. And just like that, things began to spiral into chaos. The moment he heard the bullet shatter the vodka bottle on the shelf, Travis instinctively dropped to the floor just in time to see the shotgun blast roar over where his upper body had been positioned moments before. Looking about it was as if things were moving in slow motion, the patrons fleeing in crawling terror as Travis looked around for the source of the other shot. He hadn't fired; if he had, there would be a gaping hole in the back of Jack's bar from his rifle rounds. Adrenaline pumping, he found his answer; the redhead from before must have somehow clung to conscience; maybe he had held back too much when knocking him out? It was possible; Travis had reservations about shooting this place up to begin with. Regardless, Travis now found himself prone to the floor, watching as everything began to break down. They'd had to take Jack down by force now; hopefully they could stop the fight without killing him, but it was painfully clear he was going to have to hurt the man. And probably he'd also end this young merc's career; or at least, put a damper on it. Trusting Z'gato to cover him while he recovered his footing, Travis rolled across the room, allowing the small caliber rounds to bounce off his shields before springing once more onto the redheaded mercenary. There was a brief struggle on the floor before Travis quickly overpowered the man, who had drawn a knife. Leaning away to avoid a desperation slash from the man's other hand, Travis reached out and ripped the gun from one arm's grip before forcibly removing the knife with the other. what happened next was a lesson in pain as gunshots went off around the room; there was a sickening crack sound as Travis pulled the man's arm behind his body with ruthless speed, and using his left hand, thrust the mercenary's own knife through his right palm and into a nearby table wrecked in the earlier explosion. The man screamed in agony as the blade penetrated -through- his flesh, pinning him to the wooden surface with a dislocated shoulder. Travis sighed as he recovered his footing and stepped away towards the other side of the room, standing back up and aiming down the sight to cover Z'gato. He began laying down some covering fire to at least try and force Jack back down under the bar. The mercenary, meanwhile, had been fortunate in spite of the constant flow of tears from his eyes; even while being shot at Travis had been careful to avoid large blood vessels to prevent mass blood loss. One thing was for certain, however; he wouldn't be a threat to -anyone- in or near that bar for the immediate future. ((Lemme know if this is a bit much, Jefe. )) |
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| ~DarkKnightCuron~ | Sep 28 2013, 09:11 PM Post #418 |
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Starfeather
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Z’Gato had been prepared to close the deal right then and there—render both of the organic obstacles unconscious with his arm cannon. Of course, Travis would rebel, not wanting to see anyone killed, but they were wasting valuable time standing there trying to argue with someone who simply would not budge on the subject. Of course, Z’Gato rolled his eyes at Jenosa’s statements—once again, she had this insane talent for getting on his nerves. It might have been Hydra 5, or it was Chozo tech. Either way, it was a dangerous weapon, and the sooner it was no longer pointed in their direction, the better. Still, it did not prevent him from grumbling under his breath when she finished her threat—clearly, castrating males was a hobby of hers—but he let her have the last word. The last thing he wanted to do was give her a reason to try to make him look like more of a fool, especially when he was trying to be intimidating. Nothing ruined that façade like a teammate all but calling your bluff out for you. Still, the Chozo warrior was getting irritated with this waste of time—Jack was being an obstacle, so it was time to remove him. At that moment, Jack stuck the shotgun right into Travis’ chest, almost necessitating that the bird man mercenary act on the instance, what with all the yelling that was going on. Unfortunately, a gunshot went off from behind, shattering some bottle of alcohol, no doubt. At that moment, Z’Gato used his free hand to try and push Travis down and away from the shotgun— “Sey’la, no!” He was only half successful, it seemed. Travis did, indeed, manage to avoid the devastating effects of the high-explosive shotgun shells fired out of the shotgun, but while so close, Z’Gato took to the full brunt of the shot. Like a hot knife through butter, the blast punched through his personal shields, slamming into the Chozo’s armor with the force of a falling truck. Before Z’Gato even realized what had happened, he was on the ground, vision swimming in a haze, his chest full of pain, and small needle stings across his body. The former was likely from the shotgun blast, the armor barely holding against the shot though the transfer of energy had likely done a severe number on his torso, while the latter was from the various life support systems within his armor, trying desperately to keep him alive and kill the pain. Without thinking, Z’Gato raised his arm cannon while Travis rolled towards the source of the first gunshot, the Chozo opening fire against Jack and Ronnie. He was feeling far too much pain to really aim that well, allowing his suit to take over most of that particular chore, as he waited for the painkillers and combat stimulants to kick in. The familiar ‘high’ on adrenaline—artificial and natural—began to take over, replacing pain with an almost numbed, elated feeling. Still, his arm cannon shouted with power, firing a series of shots where he remembered seeing Jack and Ronnie—with any luck, they would be slain. If not, they had likely taken cover underneath the bar or a similar piece of cover. Whatever it took to keep them from firing at Travis again. |
Marching to the Black Gates...
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| ~Alissa~ | Oct 1 2013, 04:02 PM Post #419 |
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"Lieutenant Simmons! Up against the wall! Hands where we can seem them!" Her team should be on the tram by now but there was no indication that it was moving yet, James Vega was in the facility, and now her cover was blown…she would kill that man. In her mind it was just too big of a coincidence that Vega arrived on the day of the most delicate part of their plan, that they had hit roadblocks all of the sudden, and that they knew she was a threat, Vega had somehow compromised their plan, and then shared it with his allies in the facility. Alissa stood on the other side of the door from the man yelling commands as he scanners fed her the information about the squad on the other side of the door. Six man team, light weapons, arrayed in the narrow hall those in back covering those in front, they were expecting the enter the room with no resistance. “By order of Chairman Keeton of the Galactic federation this facility is in violation of Federation law, you will stand down and disarm to await disciplinary review” She didn’t actually expect that to work, she was stalling for time, hoping to give the others enough time to make it down from the surface so they could get to work. Certainly the sudden appearance of three fully armed and armored hunters would be a bit of a deterrent. She could see them overlaid on her HUD as orange and red outlines, they were discussing what they had just heard from the woman on the other side of the door, one tried his radio which she knew to be useless, after a few moments of tense discussion the leader yelled through the door “Bull Shit!” It was the response that she had expected in truth, she had been hoping for a bit more delay from the confusion and lack of communication but it appeared whoever was in charge was rather sure of things. Alissa moved quickly as the world seemed to slow down, the door slid open and she reached out grabbing the barrel of the first riffle she saw and twisting it up and away from her pulling hard and bringing the marine attached to it forward off balance and into Alissa’s elbow. She felt the man go limp as the blow rendered him unconscious and she pulled the riffle from his hand spinning it and using it as a club she struck the second man in the face likely breaking his nose and sending him to the floor like a sack of potatoes. She dropped the weapon and reached pulling one of the stun battons, it extended in a shower of blue sparks as she ducked a blow from the third man spinning her foot came into contact with the fourth man’s knee knocking him to the ground as she struck the third with the weapon, he momentarily went ridged as the charge flowed through his system before falling to the ground. The second baton liberated the forth was knocked senseless before it charged fully. The fifth soldier got both weapons to the chest and fell back into the last man who stumbled dropping his riffle drawing a pistol and fired at Alissa, rounds impacted on kinetic shielding before falling to the ground leaving the private staring wide eyed at Alissa before dropping the weapon and holding up his hands. A short time later the six members of the security team were sat in a row against the wall, hands zip tied behind their backs and weapons removed as Alissa returned to waiting for the rest of the team to make their way to her. She did send a message to Travis however “Vega is in the facility, cover is blown” ------------------------------------- The Objects streaking in from orbit that had been assumed to be part of the meteor shower made a sharp turn toward the main entrance of the base, shielding keeping them intact for the drop, moments before impact small explosions from landing jets burst out, slowing them to a manageable speed before five heavy assault mechs hit the ground skidding to a stop before large crab like legs unfolded and began walking toward the main doors. Weapons began firing, targeting the mechanisms that kept the doors open, the goal was to prevent the doors from closing first, while making it appear the base was under attack. The mechs were true creations of terror, an assortment of heavy and light weapons that fired fast and accurately at their targets, dual high impact energy shields oscillated to provide constant coverage for the machines, they were even styled like gigantic mechanical scorpions, meant to frighten those they were turned against. However their AI had been instructed to use suppressing fire only, the weapons were focused on clearing a path into the base while the lighter weapons focused on encouraging the base staff to keep their head down. Edited by Alissa, Jan 10 2014, 02:41 PM.
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| +CEMP+ | Oct 3 2013, 11:23 AM Post #420 |
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Clockwork Master
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Jenosa swore as soon as the first shard of chaos shattered a vodka glass, and almost everything else happened at once. She just had that split second she needed to trigger the adrenaline rush mechanism within her suit so she could fly into action. In that world of gray and white, though, gun shots were still fast, as were plasma bolts. In the moment it took Jack to fire his shotgun and nail Z'Gato, Jenosa whipped out her personal gun with its stun setting on, and while that movement might have been a blurr to Ronnie, it was still movement. Enough movement that Ronnie would react to like any scared man with a gun would. And to Jenosa's vision, those two bolts he fired at her were still appeared bright, hot red amongst everything else, a danger element highlighted by human instincts. In those few seconds which spanned like a minute for her, those bolts flew at her like a whipped tennis ball, with the first grazing her cheek with a singe and the second completely missing her. Ronnie never got a chance to fire anymore before she stunned him and Jack in quick succession; and there was no energy converter jackets to help them. Whether they would still be conscious or not wasn't her concern, only Z'Gato's arm cannon was, and with just enough energy left in her gauntlets, she switched off the adrenaline rush and took. That coctail of drugs Z'Gato had pumping through him must of put him on a high, because he kept fire without realizing that many of his shots were deflecting - harmlessly, thankfully - into the floor and ceiling of the established. It was only Jenosa's yelling, "You can stop firing now, dumbass," that got his attention and made him slow down his repeated firing. Gazing in front of him, he saw an annoyed Jenosa and the cyan glint of her energy shield as she visually swiped his last power beam shot with her own gauntleted hand. Compacting the sphere of yellow energy with a squeeze of her hand, she tossed it harmlessly behind her as she begrudgingly said, "Thanks." (OOC: Unsure if I should add more to move the rest of the plot or leave it to you guys) |
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"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death." — Monty Oum | |
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2:55 PM Jul 11