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 Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 2:33 pm
Author. Instead of arguing with the gods of realism and technicallity, he decided to end things the gory and gruesom way.
The grenade would fall from his hands and be whipped back towards the wall as it slipped from his grasp without the pin.
It'd explode, and the explosion would go right into the back of Jack who was being knocked into it. The clusterbomb would immediatly be blown up, sending ball bearings at speeds over mach one all over the area.
The other grenade would also go off as a secondary.
The tirtiary would be all of the clips strapped to corpse now being flung in every direcion.
Firebrand recieved decoration Jack with fireworks.
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 3:10 pm
List of rounds going flying from explosions. 2 of the 15round clips are filled with liquidsilver nitrate and tipped with diamond. 2 of the 15round clips are teflon coated, and are good for punching through kevalr with ease. 2 of the 15round clips are tipped with crystal that carries an electrical shock to whatever it hits. 2 of the 15round clips are filled with tracer rounds. 1 of every 3 bullets is coated in a powder of white phosphorus that ignites when it hits oxygen. White phosphorus is an extremely hot acid fire. 2 of the 30rounds clips are filled with manstopper rounds. They have a steel rod though them, and hallow point. It expands and rips organs as it goes in the body. ((Yeah some of the teflon coated have been used, but I don't realy think it matters. ))
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 5:25 pm
Paul doesn't seem to care that the mercenary has ignored him...so long as he was no longer considered a threat by a man with a frighteningly accurate and rapid-firing gun. Then, piercing through the sounds of gunfire and splintering wood, the melee screams and the mass confusion...an unmistakably keen, small, and metallic clink. The sound of a pin dropping.
Paul: *untranslatable*
Instinctively, Paul drops for his pick, grasping it in one hand and leaping upright as the grenade arcs backwards from Jack's lifeless hand. As the grenade blossoms into fiery annihilation, the strings thrum while Paul's right hand flies across them as his left hand thumps out chords with dazzling agility. The ruby flash of his pick seems to throb in time with the rhythm as he tries to deflect the blast by forcing it to its source and warding the living with the relentless barrage of notes pouring from the dingy acoustic guitar.
Paul: I don't know if that man lived as a fool, but he certainly died as one.
A grimace of concentration is etched into Paul's features as he plays on...
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 6:11 pm
Explosions were, well...they were never good, suffice to say. The moment what was left of Jack's body went flying across the bar, Athan swore to himself, a common practice anymore, and then hit the ground.
Now, he didn't really know what happened in the moments that followed, nor did he really care to understand the full story. But the moment that all the rounds stopped going off, all the ball bearings stopped bouncing around and through walls, and the blood stopped dripping from the walls/ceilings/whatever, Athan would be up again.
Except this time, instead of looking at the Gam's, ready for a fight, he simply turned his gaze around the Firebrand, taking in the sight of the destruction around him.
"Huh."
He scratched the back of his head.
"Kind of got carried away there."
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 8:34 pm
And in all this carnage, the sparrow seemed to be glowing on the inside, like its heart had turned into a light bulb inside of it. It was changing, slowly, back into the woman that was Owle. The bullets bounced, rang, and richocheted off the walls...but not a single one seemed to hit Athan, Kalis, Gammu, Flare, Owle, Paul, or any other innocents who might have been in the bar at the time.
My home.
A veil inside had blown back, letting the light burst outward, the simple force that was the power sealed away inside of Owle's body. As the grenade exploded, as Jack's body was shredded into a bloody little mess, the light expanded outward, engulfing the bar. The wall Jack had been near had a hole blown through it, but the building did not cave in. The chairs and tables nearby had begun to be ripped apart by rounds and fragments from the clusterbomb, but then suddenly it was as though they were made of invincible stone. Even Gamma, who must have caught a good part of the blast before Owle's magic reached him, would find that nothing further would harm him, despite the proximity of some rather nasty bullets to his face.
Everything inside the Firebrand glowed a dim gold, and everything the light touched was shielded from harm. Not a single bottle broke, not a single person aside from Gamma and Jack was injured. A sleeping hearth goddess had come aware, and her home would not be harmed.
The explosion spent its fury, and when the noise finally died down, when everyone seemed to be alright, the glow died, too. Owle was standing upright, unharmed, amidst spent bullet casings, shrapnel, and splinters of wood she had been unable to keep from shattering. Except for Gamma, whom Owle had been too slow to protect from the first explosion, and Jack, whom Owle had been too slow to protect at all, not a soul in the Firebrand had been injured.
And then Owle fell over, put her hands over her head, and screamed.
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 9:13 pm
((Alright. Seeing as how Gamma and Jack were the only ones left fighting, and Jack is dead and Gamma should be too messed up to move much from that explosion, the posting order breaks.
There is no more post order. At least until another fight breaks out, which I'm hoping won't happen.))
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 9:20 pm
"Who is this guy?" the pretend executive asked, after pulling them both under a table to relative safety.
"An idiot."
And that was all Flare had to say on the subject, as Owle's friend blew himself up before the girl's eyes.
Flare sighed, and resigned herself to either living or dying, depending on how well the furniture and structure of the Firebrand held under randomly flying shrapnel. Given the quality of the chairs, Flare put their odds at exactly Not good.
And then everything glowed.
And nothing touched her.
And the girl screamed, just when there was nothing more to scream about.
"Dammit, Owle!"
Flare cursed, and scrambled out from under the table, glancing back at Gammu. "The fight's over, unless you feel like continuing after that. Take your friend and go."
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Fengrading rolled 1 100-sided dice:
54
Total: 54 (1-100)
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 9:47 pm
s**t flew, literally.
Gamma was pretty close to ground zero when the grenade rolled out of corpse's hand. Explosion, followed by another, then another, then some crazy glowing light. Gamma blacked out immediately.
Didn't fall. Didn't flinch. Didn't duck for cover. Just stood there and closed his eyes. Things exploded way too fast for any movement to have had any effect.
When the dust and gore settled, Gamma would be found in the same place as before. Standing, arms at his side, eyes closed. Bleeding profusely from all over; arms, shoulders, across the chest, above and below the knee, over the eyes, on the side of his face, and one particularly stylish pit along the length of his left clavicle, topped with a jacked piece of shrapnel still sticking out.
His eyes opened and a blank expression filled his face. Blood coursed it's way down and around his features while he just stood there, not that it was obvious after buying this new suit of viscera.
Reached up.
And ripped the piece of shrapnel from it's residence and widened the wound enough to reveal the yellowy-ivory color of bone. Instead, Gamma replaced the chunk of shrapnel with the searing muzzle of his sidearm.
Burn, sizzle, pop. Even after all the racket of the explosions another detonation occurred. Gamma, standing there with hot metal to his shoulder, gave a shout that wasn't supposed to come from a person. Or any other living thing with ears, because it was ******** loud.
Dwarfing even the loudest Kiai warshouts, rattling any windows that were still whole and ringing any unrung ears after the series of explosives.
Because it ******** hurt. Blazing metal on flesh, muscles, and bone. Aside from the obvious problems and that lingering trail of smoke of charred body parts, Gamma enjoyed it. Somewhere deepdown Gamma was getting a kick out of it. Really, really, deep down.
Gamma was somewhere else entirely. Mind having retreated to hide from the swarm of neurochemicals that flooded his brain. He was standing there as something that could be considered a vegetable, because his brain couldn't handle any more sensation. No more room left to process it.
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 10:56 pm
...and then everything became imbued with light. The notes slow and grind to a halt as Paul stares on in wonder as bullets and shrapnel fly through him, not even leaving a trail of displaced golden light as they fly by.
Paul: That's definitely not from me.
He looks to see what's happened to the others...the psychopathic gentleman was nothing more than a carmine hole in the wall now. Gunman #1 was in a frozen tableau of pain, but nothing else was causing him harm. Gunman #2 and the inhuman swordswoman were behind a table. Athan was about three feet to his left and on the floor avoiding what would have been certain death. And Owle...the golden light died, and almost as soon as he caught sight of her she fell to the floor in a fetal position. A piercing scream assaulted his ears, soon followed by the stentorian roar of Gunman #1. Paul, having lived through his own music, doesn't mind the volume increase. He's more concerned about trying to figure out what's wrong with Owle.
Paul: I have a distinct feeling interacting with the larger gentleman will result in a split lip...or worse.
He shoves his pick into his pocket, then removes a strap from said pocket and attaches it to his guitar. He slings it onto his back as he covers the ground between himself and the prone bar owner, neatly side-stepping around Athan as he stands to observe and comment.
Paul: "Owle! What's wrong?"
He shouts to make himself heard over her own wailing, which hasn't ceased since it began.
Paul: Two...no, three men dead, a giant hole in a new wall, and one seriously wounded berserker mercenary...well, could've been worse.
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Posted: Wed Dec 13, 2006 2:03 am
Words he could agree with, well at least the idiot part. He didn't really want to leave just yet because things had been so interesting; but then Gamma had to get wounded. Gammu would probably blame him latter for spoiling both of their fun; but that was for another time. Like it or not there was a sense of loyalty between the monsters and he had to get him some aid.
Pulling himself to his feet he didn't even bother get out from under. Just standing up and letting his mass move it pass it's centre of gravity and it tipped over. Giving a light dusting of himself off he reached into his suit, not for any weapon, but for a simple phone. Being out of armour could be such a pain.
Flipping it open he pressed a few buttons and then spoke. It was in a tongue no one would recognise save Gamma; who was too far gone in his mental hell hole to even know what was being said.
"I need an emergency evac. We have an injury."
Closing the phone he knew it would be less then fifteen minuets before the transport arrived, probably only a little more then five. Pocketing it he looked around to find his knife. Once he did so he sheathed it beneath his right arm. Turning as he did so he looked at Flare and gave a shrug of the shoulders.
"I would love to continue; but sometimes battle must take a second seat to taking care of those that need care for. Go care for your friends, you have much to be remorseful of."
What with the man who was supposed to protecting the bar killing a drunk, partially Gamma's fault, and putting a bullet in one of their fighters legs. It was just too much. Out of everyone that had seriously partaken in the fight he and Flare were the least injured and so they had a duty to perform.
Shaking his head Gammu walked over to Gamma. Leaving him alone for now the scream at resided as his throat had given out and a series of whimpers and moans came instead. He would be all right for now; but Gammu had to see that all was picked up. To leave behind a physical trace or any Deity Inc property would be a sore breach in contract.
Finding anything Gamma had dropped Gammu felt through his suit pocket three vibrations. One short followed by two long. Their ride had showed up; but no one would see it really if they looked out side. The hall of the transport was covered with millions of cameras and projections and let its hull mimic the area around it, effectively blurring into its environment on a level which no chameleon could. It drifted upon an invisible cushion of air as it was held a loft by an advance anti gravity drive.
Looking from the ruins of the bar to his brother Gammu did what he had to. It would probably hurt him; but then he was already in a world of pain and this would only help him get better. Lifting him with a pretty disturbing ease Gammu carefully slung his brother over his shoulders. Walking out he stopped at the portal between inside and out and turned. Speaking loud enough to be heard he yelled at them.
"We'll be seeing you folks again. And you'll be owing my friend a new suit."
With that he was out and a door was slid open about two feet above the ground, seemingly a portal to another world. Technicians stood about the opening and took Gamma from him. He was laid out inside upon a stretcher and medical staff begun working on him.
Grimly Gammu thought of how his brother would have some impressive scars from the encounter; but still his anger quickly burned when he remembered that the fool who had started the entire mess with his talk was still alive. Still alive through some perversion of nature.
Stepping on board he hung out the door as the transport began to move. First slowly and then swiftly. Then he vanished as he closed the door and the soft almost noiseless sound of the craft disappeared into the sky.
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Posted: Wed Dec 13, 2006 6:41 am
Darkness.
NO!
NO!
Jack screamed as he was violently beaten, again and again with a black stick which shocked and sent pain all throughout his nervous system. His eyes were bloodshot and looked up into his instructor. This was the academy for Meta-X, a secret organization that convinced those who were in it that they were working for some military branch.
That's not how you hold the gun. That's not how you put it back together. How many times do we have to tell you?
Jack's teary eyed face looked up into the...
"Wake up you fool, I don't know why I ever created you."
..."Huh?"
Jack felt a strange feeling, as though he were floating. He looked around and saw no part of his body, just a great white light. From that light there were black specs, and from that a voice.
"Well, it's not like I knew what I was doing when I made you. Hell, it was a friend of mine that even helped make your equipment."
"I don't understand."
"Of course you don't. You're a failed creation."
Those were some harsh words. Worse than any Yo Momma Joke.
"God...? Is that you?"
"Funny, but I think not. You may refer to me as the Will."
"The Will? Like the will to do something or as in William? Never thought God to be n-"
"SHUT UP!"
"Okay..."
The white image before Jack remained blank for a few moments. It seemed he was about to cease existing once more. Though, as he attempted to look side to side or speak and nothing came, Jack didn't really think much of his life right now.
"Well, I'm the one that made you pull that pin. Honestly, neither of us know much about firearms or explosives. I personally don't want to take the time to learn about them."
"But all of my--"
"Training?"
Jack didn't so much as hear laughter, as felt it inside his core. Jack really didn't understand what was going on, and this disembodied experience really wasn't helping things much. The meta-human wished he was dead, for it surely wouldn't be as confusing as all of this.
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Posted: Wed Dec 13, 2006 11:20 am
Her screaming stopped. Owle looked up at Paul, wide-eyed, hands still clasped over her ears.
Then her expression darkened.
Within an instant the woman had whipped to her feet and was backing away from him, shouting.
"Ahcunosh! Alacunosh!" she yelled, pure hate in her voice as she glared at him and backed away behind a table. She wasn't shouting in any language anyone had ever heard of, or spoken. The words were garbled nonsense, mere sounds she mistook for sentences.
Owle snatched a surprisingly undisturbed salt shaker off the table and reeled her arm back, preparing to hurl it at Paul if he came too close to her.
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Posted: Wed Dec 13, 2006 11:28 am
Paul halts in his tracks as Owle reacts...oddly.
Paul: She must have undergone deep mental trauma to defend this place...
For the briefest of moments, Paul considers moving to attempt to try and comfort her again...but then the sheer hatred in her voice echoes through his thoughts, and the way she was holding that salt-shaker didn't look as though she was going to use it on fries.
Paul: And she grabbed salt of all things. Traditionally a ward against evil with its purity...that or it was close.
As things stand, Paul backs off, raising his hands to show that they are empty and in no position to threaten. Though he doesn't realize it, his pupils have contracted slightly, making him appear more nervous than he is.
Paul: "...Owle?"
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