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| I'm on a run...; <A wee practice> | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 14 2009, 05:53 AM (759 Views) | |
| +Hugh MacKeane+ | Apr 14 2009, 05:53 AM Post #1 |
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Ye call that dancin'? I saw people on fire move better than that!
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The air was crisp this morning, dew stained whatever patches of grass could be found around and the sun was only just poking out from the mountainous horizon. Tying his shoelaces tightly, Hugh mused, just what sort of practice had the young Scout in mind. He brought along his fire axe and his flamethrower – Bonnie&Clyde, but God damn him if the lad just wanted to turn him into target practice. How ‘hardcore’ was this supposed to be? He did not want to cripple a teammate, but on the other hand – he did not wish to end up a bloody pulp either. Sighing, he looked around before putting on his gasmask – he expected the scout to jump at him from any corner… unless the lad decided to greet him first. He stood, gripping his fire axe surely – in the end, he did need some combat practice beside the dummy training and wood chopping. “Huhuhu.” Clyde on his back, he could no longer stand in one place and set for a run around the perimeter of the Lumberyard, perhaps he will meet the Scout along the way. |
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| Dan Anderson | Apr 15 2009, 09:40 PM Post #2 |
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You can't hear what ain't there...
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Baseball bat and scattergun stuffed in his bag, pistol snug in his thigh holster, Dan was running around the arena only known as Lumberyard. Putting his parkour skills to their fullest, he made his way around the field, leaping fences, grabbing hold of ledges and leaping across large gaps, to stop on top of the large wooden structure where RED team would start during an Arena match. Arena matches. A fight to the death between teams of mercenaries from both RED and BLU. Short time limit, single capture point. And the coup de grace : no respawning. Meaning if you died once, you won't respawn until the end of the match. Really horrible experience. He didn't know about all of this. Hugh had just invited him over to the arena for a bit of practice. The practice he was having right now was to see how long he could go around the map without Hugh spotting him through that gas mask of his. Right now he was crouched on the roof of the RED spawnpoint, watching as Hugh ran off, presumably to do a couple laps around the perimeter of the map. He sighed, and quietly ran off, leaping over an air duct to climb up a small chimney, reaching its top and leaping overhead to land lightly on the roof of the middle building, making sure to make as little noise as possible, so as not to alert the Pyro making his way around the map. |
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| +Hugh MacKeane+ | Apr 22 2009, 12:43 AM Post #3 |
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Ye call that dancin'? I saw people on fire move better than that!
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Running proved relaxing on a peaceful Wednesday morning… but not now when he was on his 5th lap and had not even seen a shoelace of the Scout! He was starting to wonder, if he is running here alone. His gut feeling though, advised him caution. If the other was a spy, he would occasionally start roasting thin air, but a Scout – fast as a lightning, was still spottable when running towards you. If he was running towards you. Unless he jumped at the back of your neck – opportunities to do that were countless here with all the buildings around. He stopped on the train tracks and looked around the ground level first – up and down the tracks really, and then he ran out of the space framed by two buildings towards the log bridge. The scout was either on the other side of the building, inside it or on it. Or somewhere else, lounging on the grass… “Hrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrg!” Was the Scout provokable? He could throw a couple of taunts, but the other seemed mostly a calm lad. Perhaps later then. A bit more running and Hugh found himself in the middle building – perhaps it was unnecessary to whack the doors out with his axe, but honestly – his fingers were itching to chop something and in his slightly madder head the axe sung a blood-thirsty song. Oh, he must snap out of it… at some point, now it was fun. Now… come out, lad! Edited by Hugh MacKeane, Apr 22 2009, 12:44 AM.
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| Dan Anderson | Apr 22 2009, 02:13 AM Post #4 |
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You can't hear what ain't there...
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Sitting on the roof of the middle building, Dan peered somewhat lazily into the interior of the building through the wire-mesh that covered the sides of a raised platform on the roof. He watched as Hugh wandered inside, before shouting out something in Pyro-talk, unintelligible to normal man. He sighed lightly, before taking a bottle full of his energy drink from his bag and unscrewed the top, drinking lightly from it before placing it back into his messenger bag. He peered back inside. Hugh had stopped in the middle of the building, standing on top of the middle capture point and looking around. Dan decided he would make fun of the poor Pyro and, after taking a cursory glance into his bag to confirm the locations of his stuff, ran into the second level of the building from the roof and stopped behind a wall. To his left : a glass partition that served as a door to the capture point. When Hugh wasn't looking, Dan ran from the wall to the staircase in front of him. He leaped and twisted in mid-air to come down at the lowest point of the staircase. He grabbed the top ledge with his hands and slid between the gap made by the stairs and the second floor. Landing lightly on the first floor, he slid quietly behind another wall and peeked out from behind it to look at Hugh. He smiled slyly and took out a can of his energy drink. He set it on the floor and made sure Hugh wasn't looking. He then slid the can into the open doorway and popped the tab loudly, before setting it down quickly and running away quickly and silently out of the building and back to the RED spawn, where he leaped behind the train car loaded with long tree trunks and hid himself in the interior roof of the shack behind it. Edited by Dan Anderson, Apr 23 2009, 04:20 AM.
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| +Hugh MacKeane+ | Apr 23 2009, 02:42 PM Post #5 |
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Ye call that dancin'? I saw people on fire move better than that!
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There were benefits to the gas mask he wore. No fumes, no burns and hid identity (which was no longer that much of an issue as most of the REDs have already seen him…) However, it restricted his vision to a certain point. Not that he would as a man posses peripheral vision, but his view of the world was framed and darkened by the smoked glass. There were some details, which he just missed in life. At least visually, because he sure as Hell heard the loud sound of whatever it was that made it. Turning sharply and seeing no one, an idea flashed through his mind – setting the building on fire would give the Scout one less place to play hide-and-seek in. He laughed as he approached the can, aware that it was not there before and that the other played this as a taunt game. Smacking the blunt head of his axe into his gloved palm he suddenly swung it in an arc and split the can in two halves – the drink splattering around and making a neat puddle on the floor. Hugh ran outside – towards the REDbase (not exactly desiring to pay a visit to the BLUs on the other side just yet) and lifted his gasmask to see, but at the same time have it ready for pull down if he switched to Clyde. He regarded Bonnie fondly, the energy drink dripping from her steely coldness and he lifted the axe and licked it. If the energy drink did not taste like spilled batteries then he was eating the wrong stuff as a kid. Making a face, he finally took an unspoiled observatory glance to his surroundings. Whir caul ane scouk…? Where would he hide if he had somebody with an axe looking for them and their main advantage was a quick-surprised attack. He scanned the upper floors and roofs with his eyes – axe lifted to mid-waist and fingers twitching to swing it. He was expecting the first attack to be from a higher spot and the other will surely try to run after that. Unless it will be otherwise… |
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| Dan Anderson | Apr 23 2009, 08:55 PM Post #6 |
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You can't hear what ain't there...
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Dan paled slightly as Hugh came close to finding out his true location : in the roof of the shack to the right of the RED spawnpoint, if you came out from there. Right now the Scotsman was looking up at the roofs and upper floors of the buildings around the spawn and the spawnpoint itself. As Hugh's eyes slowly scanned the buildings, Dan quietly made his exit by swinging his legs up and onto the roof of the shack, then swinging on his legs and bracing himself on the logs that rested on a disconnected train car. He swung his legs down and lightly impacted the ground, hopefully soft enough so that the Pyro wouldn't notice. He dropped down into a crouch, behind some boxes, watching the Pyro scan his environment. He slowly crept behind Hugh, trying carefully to make each step as silent as possible. He reached a point where he was staring directly up at the large cylindrical gas tank on the Pyro's back. He then slid his bat out of his bag and straightened up. He moved a step back, and swung the bat straight for the Pyro's legs, intending to fell him flat on his back. |
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| +Hugh MacKeane+ | Apr 25 2009, 05:10 AM Post #7 |
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Ye call that dancin'? I saw people on fire move better than that!
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Seeing nothing – ghosts of nothing, he was unsettled. Having the background in watching over sheep when he was a child, he could not get rid of the feeling that something was amiss. Close around him. He could almost…hear it - !!! He turned around and caught the bat swing into his shins – his eyes widening in surprise. There the wolf! He swung his axe at the other without a second thought – on instinct. Later he will contemplate how he wanted to chop his own teammate in half just on the spot without any warning. But the Scout was a fast lad and the pain of the bruised shins had finally reached the Scotsman’s brain – now weakening his axe-arm slightly. Hugh hissed menacingly as the axe made its singing arc – slicing air in slow motion and aimed blade down at where the Scout’s neck met his shoulder. |
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| Dan Anderson | Apr 25 2009, 09:53 PM Post #8 |
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You can't hear what ain't there...
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Dan's eyes widened as he saw the axe blade swinging for his neck, and he instinctively rolled backwards, landing in a crouch on his feet again. He watched as the axe blade buried itself into the grass between them, the thistle he drew for Hugh onto the flat of the blade peeking through the blades of grass. Knowing that if the Pyro were to regain his senses and pry his axe out of the earth, the chances of him surviving another fight were slim, seeing as he was a rookie fighting against a veteran. He ran forward and quickly kicked the axe away, making sure to note where it had landed so that he could retrieve it later. He then turned his attention to the Pyro and, after noting the flamethrower on his back, turned tail and ran for the middle building, scaling the outside walls swiftly and running to the other side. |
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| +Hugh MacKeane+ | Apr 27 2009, 05:11 AM Post #9 |
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Ye call that dancin'? I saw people on fire move better than that!
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The other was fast as a squirrel and Hugh squinted in moment insanity as his axe buried itself in the cold earth instead of heated flesh. Then it was kicked away – how that could happen he could not explain, but it had to do with the minute lapse where he realized the other was not his enemy, but his teammate seeking practice. Well… it was given to him. He watched him scurry away and although he could roast him to toast if he gave chase, he wasn’t up to all this running. In any case, if the other ended burned one way or the other, he would end up in a respawn or in the sickbay. Bad prospect for a Team leader - traumatized teammates. And Hugh did not want that… he made search for his axe and found it a bit later glinting at him from tall grass. Then he eyed the building where Dan sough his refuge and whistled. This old dog will have to make chase in the end or he could as well lie down and die. He was wary. Buildings did offer advantageous spots, however frustrated him, when those spots were occupied by others. Deciding to carry on with Bonnie ready to block or chop, he headed inside and made careful watch of the slightest of details. He subconsciously watched for the flash of the Scout’s white socks if they were to scurry by. “Laddie, laddie – whir cauld thy be? Laddie…” His voice sounded creepy from teh doorway – reminding of voices from old tales where unearthly creatures called from the marches – luring into Death's grasp. He laughed - he could still get his arse beaten by a well wielded bat. |
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| Dan Anderson | Apr 28 2009, 11:11 PM Post #10 |
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You can't hear what ain't there...
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Running into the middle building, after swinging down from the roof, he hid himself where wooden planks met angled roof in the interior of the building, hiding and watching as Hugh came to the other side of the building to look for him, presumably to cut him in half with that fire axe of his. He could see, in his mind's eye, the thistle which he had painted for the Pyro, swinging through the air to embed itself in his own body, his lifeblood slowly draining from his body until he died a slow, painful death. Scrubbing that image from his mind, he now grew determined to face the Pyro, well, face-to-face. But he would spring one more surprise on the Pyro first. He continued hiding where he was, but he hid himself further by pressing himself against the roof, hearing the Pyro's heavy Scot accent ring throughout the building, asking the building where he was. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead, and he gently wiped them off onto his sweatshirt. He slowly unholstered his pistol with one hand and, slowly and carefully, aimed at the Pyro's head. The magazine was loaded, instead of lead bullets, with hollow rubber bullets. Inside the hollow was dark red paint, its consistency and colour similar to blood. This was the only magazine he had that was loaded with this particular fake ammunition. The second clip he would load contained real bullets. He wouldn't use it, though. Not unless some dumb BLU came to crash their practice. Squinting his eyes slightly to focus his aim, he fired three times, the recoil causing his second and third shots to be aimed at Hugh's torso. |
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