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Koko kept herself pressed up against the bike as she heard the magnum being fired off.
Dammit! He didn't drop the bloody thing!
The mercenary took note of her surroundings, thinking about the distance she'd need to travel to get alongside the shack, whether or not her body would be take the strain if she did decide to 'flit' across to that location & the risk that she would be shot at in that time.

She figured the final point was a near null possiblity; she knew she was quick, the raider was definetely injured (to what extent she was unsure) & the magnum was a fairly slow firing gun. However, the distance Koko would need to travel at that speed could potentially damage her body in her injured state. Well, what else could she do other than look over the top again, when Jackal probably had his gun aimed right at her position? So, gritting her teeth, the mercenary began a crouched run which swiftly broke out into her inhuman sprint. Within seconds she had reached the side of the shack & pressed herself up against the wall - though her abdomen was not very happy with the recent run & was sending out waves of agony through her system. Ignoring the pain, she began to edge herself along the side, aiming to reach a window where she would be able to attack the raider from a new angle.

Zed fired several shots at jackal's previous location then pulled the barrel of his wrist gun out of the bullethole.
He released the spent magazine and replaced it with another.

Hey, hey, hey! It's Seb and his three-dimensional Platoon extra avatar here! I hope my introduction wasn't too forward, but aaaaay.

In any case my character, who won't be making their debut appearence quite yet, after all it would be impolite to interrupt such thrills and/or spills. However that won't stop a quick bio (not-so-quick on reflection) from being brought to your consideration. So...

Name: Roll Stones
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Title: Resolute Rock (his resolve leads to an immovable object)
Weapons: Lancet XR82 Battle Rifle, Modified Chainsaw Sword Hybrid, two run of the mill pistols, full Advanced Earth Speacial Forces armour
Description: Pale complexion and brown hair, relatively long despite his military livelihood. Wears a one piece sleek but durable military standard Special Force armour suit. Usually holsters rifle in specially designed carrier on back of suit, whilst pistols are holstered at waist alongside his unique chainsaw blade, a revolving chainsaw blade as long as ancient shortswords attached to a relatively standard grip.
Information: Despite coming from a relatively decent breed, Roll found himself at the cruel hands of fate which were incited by the unrest of the inhabitants of Earth, a growing dystopia, soon to be a dead planet altogether. The overpopulated lower classes rose up against the ruling classes, Roll's parents became victims before he was two years old. However, a more considerate family took pity on the orphan and raised him as one of their own, as revealing any trace of his rich heritage to the majority of the population would lead to a great deal to both the child and the family. Despite this obstacle, Roll's talent soon came to the forefront, fighting to survive, quite literally, in the urban jungles. Before long Roll's natural fighting ability was shown to his fullest, forging a career in the illegal and highly dangerous brawling dens not uncommon across the doomed world's metropolisess, the young man found himself in favour with many crime lord earning enough money to sustain his adopted family. However, this risk-filled, but otherwise reasonably comfortable life was not to last. A group of religous fanatics saw mass slaughter of "the great unwashed" as purification, purging the city in which Roll's family resided. Roll himself, however, was competing outside the town. On his return he found charred remains where his home once stood and to compound his emotion his "mother" revealed to him his real heritage. Overcome with confusion and grief, Roll found himself blaming himself, finding that despite his considerable strength he was helpless to resist any real power. Seeking the strength to protect what little he had left, he began a journey across the land fighting wherever and whenever possible. Before long, the world's leading military had recognised his fighting prowess and invited him to one of the many super soldier programmes seen as the future of combat. Despite hearing reports of failure and side-effects, Roll's resolve for strength was such he was more than happy to give his life to military research, seeing little point in continuing his violent crusade across the ruined Earth. Through cybernetic enhancement and bionic implants, invisible to the untrained eye except for his unusually pale skin, Roll became an expert in armed combat recieving weapons and armor tailored to his individual needs. However, he had little conscience left, becoming obidient and ruthless - a perfect military tool. Roll found that his limits were untested however and hoped that the mission to planet Ares would lead him to a greater calling, The child once set for a life of luxury now travels an unknown land as a man both lonely and angry, hoping to one day add colour to an existance he sees as both passionless and painful.
Other Notes: He has been sub-conciously programmed to accept commands with no question, so if he appears robotic and unsympathetic, it's probably because... he is.

Did I go on too long? Oh well, I'm tired anways. Eh heh, I hope that was good. and not too cliche. Also awesome gimmicky name.

The raider tried to make himself small as bullets cascaded through the side of his shack, peppering the area around him with bullet-holes.
Hearing the unmistakeable voice of Koko, the raider listened to her proposition.
He sensible side saw the sense in what she was saying, the raider knew he was in alot of trouble, two fully-automatic guns, versus his magnum (having now only three bullets in the drum) was not a fight waged in his odds. However, the raider in him didn't feel like giving up so easily, and he maintained a firm grip on the gun.
"Telling me that if I give up now, you plan on killing me later really doesn't give me much insentive to drop the gun does it now Koko? Maybe you need a few lessons in negotition, eh?"He closed his eyes, taking another deep drag on his cigarette, his magnum trained on the area the bullets came from.
"Like I said... If you want me, come and get me."
He squeezed the trigger, a small grin playing across his lips...

Koko sighed & then a small chuckle escaped her.
"Honestly, I never actually said I was gunna kill ya later did I? Ah well, if ya wanna play it that way..."
This time Koko moved the crosshair to Jackal's leg, aiming specifically at his knee. She fired off a few rounds, not taking much notice of the fact that the magnum was probably aimed at her now. This whole thing was getting tiresome & if it wasn't for the fact that - A: she needed the raider's fingerprints to unlock the bike, save her hacking it. B: there was the incentive that she could torture the guy for a bit & C: she admired the guy for continuing to fight even under these circumstances (though she didn't admire him for anything else), she's have already finished him off otherwise.

The mercenary had ducked down again, unsure as to how many, if any, of the bullets had hit. She called through to Jackal though, an odd note to her voice.
"Ya know mate, if it weren't for the fact that you were such an a*****e, ya'd have made a good shooting partner."
She gripped her gun tightly, now realising that the magnum round had indeed hit her; however, luckily for her, the bullet had only glanced the flesh across her shoudler. She could feel the warm trickle of blood from her left shoulder & cursed slightly.

Zed poked his head out from his cover to see jackal drop the magnum. He unscrewed the smaller barrel attachment from his wrist cannon and removed the magazine, placing them both in one of his pockets. He edged towards the entrance, attempting to cut off any means of escape.

The raider's face contorted into a defiant snarl as the two people approached him, he was tired, bloody, unarmed; helpless, but defiant until the very end.

He inhaled sharply as the blade was held to his throat, bringing his cold eyes up to meet the girl's.
"Sort what out? Don't f**k with me girl, just cut me already, I ain't got all day..."
He pressed his throat up against the blade, reaching one bloody hand down to the floor, retrieving his cigarette, placing it between his lips, and inhaling deeply, savouring his last poisonous breath.
"What's the matter darlin'? Afraid I'll be back to haunt you?"