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Post by Ambassador SteelPlate on Feb 9, 2014 5:09:57 GMT -5
"I can't promise anything," Neil said in response to Enigma. "Miranda is like her sister, Charmaine, the Queen that the Representatives always go on about. Even during some fights, instead of leading from a distance, Charmaine is on the front lines with her Steelmen. It's one of the reasons that they respect her so much. Miranda is...well, sort of the same way. She's not going to stand on the sidelines, and if that means she has to be in the line of fire, so be it."
They continued running for the New York Public Library. They hoped they would be able to get there before the NYF did.
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As the bus came to a stop in between the bullets and fighting, the Bus Driver turned to his passengers.
"Now arriving at the Hart Research Center," It said. "Please depart if this is your stop." It turned its head towards the conflict outside for a brief moment and then went on. "Farewell, I hope you enjoyed your journey with us......may I suggest, you run."
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Lorraine was furious. Her right hand (Mister Tucker) was gone and the Loews Regency Hotel had a few more bullet holes in it, thanks to some crazy lady with a giant fucking minigun on her back. She went up to Louis De Santa.
"Louis!" She cried. "She took Mister Tucker! That crazy bitch took him! He belongs to ME and I need him back! How are we supposed to keep order around this damn district if your men can't even stop ONE person!?"
It was then that she noticed that the New York Bus had come to a stop in front of the Hotel. She recognized some of the men in the bus and knew immediately who they were. Slavers. They'd done business with her before, but Slavery TECHNICALLY wasn't allowed in District One. Honestly, Lorraine saw no problem with it. She would have bought slaves a long time ago if she could. Same work being done, but now she didn't have to pay them. Who could argue against that? But not everybody in District One agreed with that, and she had forcibly removed a set of Slavers as more of a publicity stunt.
Certainly this band of Slavers were either headed to Smiley Town or Umbrage and Hinderman...or both. Turning towards a mirror, Lorraine saw that her hair had gone frizzy from all the commotion. Quickly fixing it up to look like the charming and urbane woman she was, she prepared herself for it the Slavers had any reason to speak to her.
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Mister Tucker was honestly terrified. The sewers? THE SEWERS!?
"No, I don't," He lied. He, in fact, did have a light, and did have some stories, but no way he was going to give them NOW. "We have to be quiet. My god, Ms. Cohen...do you have the slightest idea of how dangerous the sewers in the Rad Apple are?"
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"Uh...well..." Sarah replied to Nicky's question.
"Yes!" Jennifer answered for her. The Ex-Enclave was not in a very good mood. "We need him to help defend the place! Have you been paying attention to anything!? I...!" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she re-opened her eyes, she looked calmer. "I'm...I'm sorry...I didn't mean to snap at you. But, yes, I think we need David to help defend the Library, Nicky."
"Aw..." Danielle replied. "Oh, well. It can be just the two of us then, Nicky!"
(I left that open so Zelus could have David either agree to go with Nicky or for Nicky to do a little more convincing, as the Do-Gooders do have good reason to need him).
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Post by Zelus on Feb 21, 2014 18:57:45 GMT -5
David just sat leaned against the chair, he’d found his way into. He listened to the conversation, before looking at the one they call Nicky. “Go get your zombie-ghoul friends to help us.” He said after a while, correcting himself on the word Ghoul. He then looked at Jennifer and sighed. “If you want me to defend your ‘soon-to be pile of rubble’, so be it. But I’d seriously think about moving out of here. There must be other places you can move into.” David made a b-line for his equipment, which had been taken from him beforehand.
“I’m going to need a few things though.” He stated simply. “If you’ve got a map of the local area, we need that. I’m gonna need some tools too. Seen as though you haven’t the men to hold off those cop assholes, and their allies. We’re gonna need to booby trap every freakin’ thing around this place. Ideally we’d probably have an evacuation route too.” As David packed on the gear, checking his frag mines, he regretting having not brought more.
“… Hey.” David began “How many cars with engines are outside…?” with a frag mine in hand, he turned to look at them. His plan was to rig some to blow when the guys came charging.
((I have absolutely no idea if this is out of the posting order, but uh, here.))
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Post by The Lost Traveler on May 6, 2014 23:27:54 GMT -5
OOC: I just want to apologize to everyone for holding up this thread for so long. I wrote this post a while ago, but then lost it, forcing me to rewrite everything from scratch. Well, I had a bit of time on my hands this week so I finally pieced it together.
Again. Sorry for the wait.
Danveris felt the confusion leak out of him. Over the course of the day he had simply felt too confused to move, to act, to even think in some cases. With each new wonder presented to him one could hardly blame him, but seeing the line of men arranged before them outside Danveris could sense the tension in the air – danger. Danger and blood. Old friends to him met again on the wayside. In that one moment, the look of an over his head teen morphed into a hardened killer. With cold eyes and stoic face he rushed towards the edge of the bus, peering out through the gap where the window once was.
He watched the duo that the men outside were after vanish down a flight of steps. He cranked his head to the Master of the slavers, the man named Monty, to demand his blade when he paused. As one, the ones in blue stopped and lowered their weapons with a signal from their leader. Danveris felt confused, and the other slavers seemed to agree with him. They looked around the sea of faces before them and then slowly lowered their weapons. “That’s it?” Johnson asked – he sounded disappointed.
He was not the only one, from inside the building Danveris could hear feminine shouts of “Louis!”, “She took Mister Tucker!”, and “your men can’t even stop ONE person?!” It was the woman he had noted before, though he still couldn’t make out her features all that well. As for this “Louis” he acted as if he didn’t hear her and instead has his men retreat into the large open room of the hotel. It was then that she turned her gaze onto the bus. It was then that Danveris’ body froze and tensed.
She was otherworldly in her beauty. Danveris could think of no other word for it, but otherworldly. Should one of the wives of the Three come now in human form he could scarce imagine they would match her. But yet, at the same time, her gaze made his blood chill to ice and his fingers reach for his absent blade. For he was not in those eyes. None of the slaves were. He had such a gaze before when he made note of the rocks out in the Wasteland. Which one he could hide behind, which one he could throw. In her eyes all the slaves were things to be utilized, only the slavers to be made note of.
That is the sort of trouble I am in.
He had made note of, but not truly comprehended, the fear in the slaves, their dread and acquiescence to their fate. But Danveris never felt their same trepidation. After all, the Pa Kua tribe did not have these “bottle caps” – the entire idea of “buying” and “selling” for necessities seemed just foreign and odd. But now that he wrapped his head around it, he knew – it was a fate he had to avoid.
He studied the faces of the slavers. There were five of them. The Master, Monty, and the one he swore to kill Johnson, were the two who stood out the most to him. But there were two by the side wall, both wearing the same clothes, guns and faces … twins Danveris believed the term was. The two spoke quietly to themselves, never sparing a glance for the slaves at all.
The fifth was the exact opposite of them. While the brothers spoke in a wave of constant chatter, never sparing the slaves a second look, his eyes scanned over them all in complete silence. He’s our guard. Danveris knew. He also knew he could not stare at the man long or he risked brining the man’s attention on him. When I act I have to make sure he’s caught flatfooted by it.
That chance to act came sooner than expected.
“I’m going out.”
The slavers jerked their heads over to Monty, but only Johnson spoke out – “What?”
“I thought we could use the mess in this city to get in and out safely, but then we almost got caught up in a damn gun fight. We need more information. I’ll head out and speak to Chambers and find out what the hell’s going on in this city. Twiddle De and Twiddle Dumb – help me unload my stuff.”
Given the way the two brothers scowled Danveris assumed they didn’t like something about that either the nicknames (since he was fairly sure they weren’t real names) or the order the warrior did not know. But still the two twins stood up and helped the man lift down a duffle bag from up above. That’s when Danveris saw it. During the motions Monty passed over a small object to one of the two. It happened in a split of a second, but Danveris was sure – the detonator.
Once Monty stepped out the two returned to their seats. He needed a way to get his hands on that detonator, but with the fifth’s ever constant vigilance at the back of the bus Danveris didn’t see the chance. As time went on and they sped farther and farther away from the Hotel Danveris felt his determination wane, for fear to creep in bit by bit.
But then, he saw his chance.
He didn’t know what madness came over the duo. Maybe they were just that confident that nothing could occur, but after a while one of them took out the detonator and begun to spin it around through his fingers. The eyes of the slaves were on him now, flinching and fidgeting in their seats. One wrong move, a brush in the wrong direction, and the detonator will go off.
Obviously the fifth in the back could not take it either. “Enough,” He said, as he marched forward, “Give it to me.”
“Whatever you say, man.” One of the brothers said as he passed over the detonator.
That’s when Danveris darted forward.
He came up from behind and knifed at the man’s wrist, twisting his arm behind the slaver’s back and palming the detonator. The man then pulled out his gun – trying to elbow Danveris at the same time. But the young man just slapped the elbow down, disarming the slaver of his gun and holding it to his neck. A move he learned to disarm knifes but a shot in the neck would be just as fatal as a slice Danveris suspected.
As one the other three slavers stood up, pulling out their weapons and pointing them at him.
Danveris just smiled a feral smile as he pressed closer to his hostage.
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Post by Ambassador SteelPlate on May 28, 2014 19:12:04 GMT -5
(Right, I believe it is Immortal's turn now. Let's try to get this up and running again.)
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ShockHelix
Administrator
Deity of Death
No mercy for the weak. No pity for the dying. No tears for the slain.
Posts: 666,666,949
Likes: 27
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Post by ShockHelix on May 28, 2014 19:31:22 GMT -5
(Are we skipping Ghost?)
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Post by GuardsGhost on May 29, 2014 0:12:10 GMT -5
((Zel and I's Enclave can't do much atm)
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Post by Ambassador SteelPlate on May 29, 2014 18:26:51 GMT -5
(I guess that means go ahead when possible, Immortal.)
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ShockHelix
Administrator
Deity of Death
No mercy for the weak. No pity for the dying. No tears for the slain.
Posts: 666,666,949
Likes: 27
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Post by ShockHelix on Jun 4, 2014 23:25:23 GMT -5
"I can't promise anything," Neil said in response to Enigma. It wasn't what he wanted to hear, but not everyone had the strongest desire to keep themselves out of harms way. From what he could surmise from the two's actions so far, Enigma felt it was safe to guess it wasn't the first time the two had put themselves in the line of fire. He was beginning to think that Neil might be closer to Miranda's lapdog then an actual lover, however. "Miranda is like her sister, Charmaine, the Queen that the Representatives always go on about. Even during some fights, instead of leading from a distance, Charmaine is on the front lines with her Steelmen. It's one of the reasons that they respect her so much. Miranda is...well, sort of the same way. She's not going to stand on the sidelines, and if that means she has to be in the line of fire, so be it."
“If you say so. Just do what you can. And do it soon. There's no telling when the fight will start or end, and if things go south too quickly, it might be too late. The mutants saw you both take down Murphy, if they're smart enough to understand what happened. If so, they've got plenty of respect for her now, and they're not going to hold it against her for keeping her head down a little.”
It was all he could try to reason with the man as they jogged toward the Library, but the trip wasn't faring well for him. Every step sent a sharp jolt of pain into his wound, and all the talking had left him out of breath. Still, Enigma managed to push himself forward. He'd been through worse then this.
Bowie sat in the building two doors down and across the street from the Loews Regency Hotel, more intrigued by the show of gunfire that'd happened earlier then the quivering . . . . whatever he was they'd abducted in the chaos. Bowie didn't really care much. Everyone talked after they'd lost a few pieces.
“And you're sure the freak was there?”
The man nodded his head vigorously, and Bowie shoved his namesake into the man's skull without ceremony. They'd followed word of Caligula to the hotel, and it seemed Enigma had made his way there as well. There'd been no word of Straton so far, but if the one was here, he couldn't help but imagine the other would be about causing trouble as well. The allure of caps was all he needed.
“Round everyone up. If they haven't finished selling off all the slaves yet, just have them execute them.” He barked, ordering the other Talon Company mercenaries around. Grabbing his knife, he kicked the man's corpse over, yanking his knife free. He wiped the blood away and sheathed it, before unzipping his fly and pissing on the man's body. If the asshole didn't respect himself in life, why should Bowie respect him in death?
Zipping his pants back up, he grabbed his assault rifle from another mercenary, waving his free hand in a 'round up' motion. Bowie set the rifle on his shoulder, and walked out of the building, as one of the greener company mercenaries brought him a cigar and lit it for him while he surveyed the building. He sucked in the smoke heavily, letting it slowly seep from his nostrils. He raised an eyebrow in surprise as he noticed the working bus. The brotherhood's Vertibirds had been one thing, but he'd never seen a working vehicle quite like the bus.
“Well I'll be damned. Some of those Pit fucks actually did find a bus. Maybe we shouldn't have ditched 'em at the arena.”
“Sir. . . there's guns up on the . . . bus.” Bowie peered at the bus, and sure enough, he could see the glint of gunmetal inside the windows. His eyes clearly weren't what they used to be, but he held his hand up, halting the company and taking another puff of the cigar.
“Hold here for now boys,” he ordered, and the seven mercenaries leaned against the wall, all of them in clear view of the Regency Hotel. “See if you can get on the comm and figure out who those fucks over there are. I think the bitch was screaming 'Louis' or 'Lewie' or some shit. Or maybe Tucker.” Bowie stood where he was, rifle still over his shoulder and his other hand on his hip, as smoke slowly rolled up his face and dissapeared into the air. The hunter was getting close to his prey.
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