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 Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 8:45 pm
((Gaia architecture fails. Keep in mind, you're only like eight feet off the ground in an, apparently, big open space.))
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 8:47 pm
((Owle, you're also still in range of the anti-magic field. Five meter range and he jumped up to a "rafter" right above you basically.))
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 8:48 pm
(( Less its one of those places with the rooms in the back of the building with the second story roof being above the common room. ))
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 9:02 pm
The sleeping man at the bar woke with a violent start and looked around stupidly. He was lucky he hadn't been shot yet, and he was determined not to.
"YEEEE HAAWWW!"
With a scream he brought out his heavy .50 cal revolver and aimed it at the man with the gun who called himself Jack.
"SEE HOWS YA LIKE THIS PARDNER!"
He pulled the trigger and let loose a lead slug, straight for his kneecap.
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 9:03 pm
((The rafters have to be at least five meters up...
...from the ground. *sighs* Right, so...
He isn't DIRECTLY above me.
I'm going to arbitrarily say that Owle can shapeshift as long as enough of her body is outside the field that whatever she shifted into would be entirely outside the field.
I'm going to make the further arbitrary decision that enough of her is outside the field that she can shapeshift into a small bird. Okay?
This way, Owle's going to have to fly away some before she can even think about doing any damage, and I'm not stuck as an inanimate object. Everybody wins.
And yes, the rooms are in the back of the building. So no rafters over the bar area, kitchen, washroom, etc., but everywhere else...))
There wasn't very much she could do. She was still partly within the magic-blocking aura, but she was also partly without. Maybe, just maybe...
The ball of scales turned black, slowly, oh so very slowly. The anti-magical aura was gumming up her abilties, even though she wasn't all the way in it.
Come on, come on...
Slowly, oh so very slowly, the blackness shrunk down, forming into the shape of a small bird. By the time Gammu had done his thing, it was looking like a black, gelatinous sparrow...almost solid, but not quite.
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 9:14 pm
Flare began advancing on Gamma, rapier still drawn. Her aim was to reach him and place a rapier to the back of his neck before he could get up, while still being cautious to avoid random projectile weapons if any headed her way.
She stopped when the gunfire rang out, throwing herself under the nearest table. She couldn't see where it was coming from and she sure as hell didn't want to get shot. She was fairly close to Gamma by now, but in no means was she in any kind of fighting stance.
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 9:25 pm
Guns or not, Athan wasn't about to let a golden opportunity slip away. That, and he was just a little angry what with having two chairs smashed on his frame. His chest was no doubt going to be bruised if it wasn't already, and his nose was still bleeding.
Before Jack even had a chance to open fire, Athan had taken off in a full sprint, again moving to cover about half the distance of the Firebrand to try and take advantage of an opponent.
He didn't even really think anything of the gun being fired as he planted his foot on the overturned table he had just thrown at Gamma moments earlier. He moved to launch himself from the table, aiming to tackle the rising man and put him down for good.
Unfortunately, Athan ended up catching a round right in the back of his leg, right at the calf. Blood squirted out from the wound before the bullet lodged itself somewhere between the shin and a large conglomoration of muscle. A painful situation, and Athan was just pressing off of the table.
So now, instead of tackling Gamma like he had initially planned, he was only capable of slipping off of the wooden surface and falling face first to the ground, cursing like a sailor, no doubt. If Gamma was anywhere near the fallen table, he'd have a fairly heavy man landing atop him. Otherwise, he was pretty much safe.
Friendly fire. Not cool.
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 9:32 pm
The drunken trucker began to laugh with an insane rage derived from being beaten as a lad. As soon as he saw the man take the bullet, he grinned a malicious wife-beating grin and aimed the revolver drunkenly towards his general upper body.
"SAY GOODNIGH' BOYAH!!"
His sausage finger began to squeeze the trigger..
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 9:43 pm
((I'd like to keep some semblance of a post order here. Zetsumeii, could you wait for Kichiro to respond to your first bullet before firing again?
Thank you.
The bullet Dessie got hit by was fired by Kichiro.))
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 9:46 pm
Gamma was a soldier. He made a living of getting shot at and getting shot. Getting shot had better monetary bonuses attached as compensation for blood lost. That and spending a small vacation in a medical facility.
Having lost count of the attempted/connected enemy shots fired, Gamma brought that mag up to where the guy hiding like ten feet off the ground on some beam going across the ceiling. Kneeling, hands on, the sidearm roared to life. Each violet plume of light erupting from the barrel as the direct result of the internal chamber aligning the caseless iron slugs with the rail and belching them out like bolts of an angry god.
Even with the fully automatic fire, the decent spray of anti-personell rounds, Gamma would be unable to empty the magazine. Athan's body catching high enough on Gamma's back that about half of the remaining magazine would discharge harmlessly into the ceiling. It was all training, despite being overtaken from behind, Gamma's arm drew high. Shots to the ceiling were shots not at his brother, and friendly fire was something Gamma would not allow.
14 iron slugs left after the first spray at Paul. Half spraying a tight scatter plot on Jack's location, half going straight up and harmlessly into the ceiling. Hopefully wounding many rafters in the process, because iron rounds would tear through wood no matter how rafter-y.
Athan's body was at the wrong angle to hold Gamma down. That and he was busy with the whole 'friendly fire' deal. Slipping out onto his knees, left and partial right foot trapped under Athan's bulk, Gamma twisted round to start in on the next guy.
Then opportunity struck. One bloodied right leg, one piping hot pistol. Starting to pry himself free, Gamma took the automag in one hand and jammed the end of it right into Athan's most recent wound.
Sure, that would be helpful. Something someone would do for a desperate friend who needed to stop bloodloss. What was missing here was the 'friend' variable. What they don't tell you is how much jamming something as hot as a barrel after 14 rounds of rapid fire, into something like raw, exposed flesh freaking hurt. You're also supposed to tell the guy so he could be prepared. Gamma forgot.
Searing noises here. Smells of cooked meat here.
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 9:46 pm
((ah but the bullet was taken by Athan. I'm sure I may still fire right? Technically he hasn't shot the next round.))
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 9:49 pm
((
Jack shot at Gamma, Athan ran and caught the bullet in the leg. You woke up and fired at Jack. End of story.))
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 9:49 pm
((Athan took Jack's bullet. Your bullet is still hanging in limbo. Sorry, but that's how it is.))
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 9:51 pm
((oh darn sorry, I misread. Ignore the last shot then.))
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