Latest topics
Who is online?
In total there are 10 users online :: 0 Registered, 0 Hidden and 10 Guests None
Most users ever online was 83 on Fri Oct 11, 2024 9:42 am
Join us on Facebook!
MISSION: World War III: Peace and the Pestilence of RIOTE {1}
+2
Reila Tsukino
Emmelin
6 posters
Page 1 of 2
Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2 
Re: MISSION: World War III: Peace and the Pestilence of RIOTE {1}
by Guest Tue May 15, 2012 7:23 pm
Amestrian-Drachman border: 11 kilometers north-east of the Briggs Mountain Range: April XX, 2012: 4:59-Go Time Central Time (CT) {Ivanka}
"You know your orders comrades. Report to your commanding officers." Zabulon barely heard the call that Ivanka gave out to his troops, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar faces amongst their forces. The members of RIOTE. True, Drachma was now essentially the group that Amestris and their allies loathed so, but the Head of Defense couldn't help but still count them as.... different. Their goals were what pushed Drachma to its current states, to the wars that they now found themselves involved in. And their soldiers, they were the most distinctive "different" thing about the whole organization out of everything. The odd Esparian woman had not escaped his notice, nor the pale man sitting off examining his guns. He couldn't help but be suspicious of them even if they were his comrades since he did not know them.
He had stepped up to the front of his tent to gaze out at his forces, ready to greet any of those that would approach him since they would have to relatively quickly. Comrade Goncharovich- Zabulon's head turned ever so slightly, though his crimson eyes darted there far more quickly at the sound of his name, staring evenly at the tall silver haired man with his huge hammer. "-will stay behind with the main force and the artillery unit. The artillery unit will shell the fortification prior to the initial gunship attack and first wave and continue to do so until the defensive systems are disabled and our advanced unit can enter the fortress and meet up with my own unit. Once the systems are down, Zabulon will lead the main force down the valley to capture and secure the stronghold. I wish you luck Comrades. Long live Drachma"
Aye, he would ensure that those Amestrian bastards would have a good old fashioned distraction. Give them a taste of a proper Drachman Overture. They would be the Cossacks, but their enemy was different. They would not last long.
"Comrade Goncharovich!" The tall man turned slowly to face the new faces that ran up to him and saluted, giving them a nod and a salute in return. They soon began to explain who they were, what they were in charge of, and requested their orders. So it was that he went to work, beginning to order their troops for the final preparations before their onslaught began of the imposing fort ahead of them. All shells were loaded and ready, guns were being prepped, and last minute inventory checks were going through. All of the main army had to be ready to move when it came time to go. They could not afford to waste this chance, not when such careful planning had gone into it. After sending off a couple of youths, a sliver of dark skin caught his eye, drawing it to where he could see that the Esparian woman was speaking with Ivanka in a serious tone. He didn't bother to try to hear the words for they were not meant for him, and she wasn't a superior officer to him. Could they really trust these RIOTE folk at all?
Ah but it was a question for another time for the violet eyed man was approaching him now, straightening up as his whole body faced Ivanka out of respect. "Comrade, I trust that you of all people are most prepared. I will leave it to you to commandeer the main force. I will try to keep in contact with you via comlink to inform you of our progress. I will trust you with deciding the best time to mobilize the main force. Victory be with you comrade." He nodded curtly, his expression as neutral as ever but the fire did burn in his eyes. "Da. We will be ready to give you the drumbeat for this war. Victory be with you as well Ivanka." Oh they were ready alright. Every man and woman under his command was calling for the blood of Amestris, calling for their deaths to avenge the loved ones who died, the city that was destroyed, and the loss that they suffered. But they weren't bloodthirsty beasts tugging impatiently at their masters chain, the chain that he held. No.... they were patient, they honed themselves so that when they struck, it would pierce the heart of every Amestrian inside that bloody wall.
As Ivanka left, Zabulon strode back into his tent and gazed at the different people doing their various duties. The radios were going and ready. Maps were laid out with markings of their foes. The tension point was high in the air, and all they needed was the final little snip that would snap them all into action. "Comrades," he began, all heads turning to him. "I want those artillery shells ready to offer fire support for the helicopters and support team. Snipers should be ready to take out any guards on the wall that remain and cause issues. I will be leading the main army personally. Are the various squads ready?" He asked of his people, not even turning his head as a raven came swooping into the tent and onto his shoulder. Others were a bit startled and hid it.... rather poorly. "Da. They are all merely waiting for your orders sir." He nodded slowly and stood behind his table, checking the radio that was in his ear. He could hear Ivanka talking on the other end to his troops but he paid them no mind for the moment. Once they moved, then it would all begin. "Let this game begin." He murmured, looking at the open flaps of his tent, ready for the sound of pounding footsteps to signal that they were moving out.
"You know your orders comrades. Report to your commanding officers." Zabulon barely heard the call that Ivanka gave out to his troops, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar faces amongst their forces. The members of RIOTE. True, Drachma was now essentially the group that Amestris and their allies loathed so, but the Head of Defense couldn't help but still count them as.... different. Their goals were what pushed Drachma to its current states, to the wars that they now found themselves involved in. And their soldiers, they were the most distinctive "different" thing about the whole organization out of everything. The odd Esparian woman had not escaped his notice, nor the pale man sitting off examining his guns. He couldn't help but be suspicious of them even if they were his comrades since he did not know them.
He had stepped up to the front of his tent to gaze out at his forces, ready to greet any of those that would approach him since they would have to relatively quickly. Comrade Goncharovich- Zabulon's head turned ever so slightly, though his crimson eyes darted there far more quickly at the sound of his name, staring evenly at the tall silver haired man with his huge hammer. "-will stay behind with the main force and the artillery unit. The artillery unit will shell the fortification prior to the initial gunship attack and first wave and continue to do so until the defensive systems are disabled and our advanced unit can enter the fortress and meet up with my own unit. Once the systems are down, Zabulon will lead the main force down the valley to capture and secure the stronghold. I wish you luck Comrades. Long live Drachma"
Aye, he would ensure that those Amestrian bastards would have a good old fashioned distraction. Give them a taste of a proper Drachman Overture. They would be the Cossacks, but their enemy was different. They would not last long.
"Comrade Goncharovich!" The tall man turned slowly to face the new faces that ran up to him and saluted, giving them a nod and a salute in return. They soon began to explain who they were, what they were in charge of, and requested their orders. So it was that he went to work, beginning to order their troops for the final preparations before their onslaught began of the imposing fort ahead of them. All shells were loaded and ready, guns were being prepped, and last minute inventory checks were going through. All of the main army had to be ready to move when it came time to go. They could not afford to waste this chance, not when such careful planning had gone into it. After sending off a couple of youths, a sliver of dark skin caught his eye, drawing it to where he could see that the Esparian woman was speaking with Ivanka in a serious tone. He didn't bother to try to hear the words for they were not meant for him, and she wasn't a superior officer to him. Could they really trust these RIOTE folk at all?
Ah but it was a question for another time for the violet eyed man was approaching him now, straightening up as his whole body faced Ivanka out of respect. "Comrade, I trust that you of all people are most prepared. I will leave it to you to commandeer the main force. I will try to keep in contact with you via comlink to inform you of our progress. I will trust you with deciding the best time to mobilize the main force. Victory be with you comrade." He nodded curtly, his expression as neutral as ever but the fire did burn in his eyes. "Da. We will be ready to give you the drumbeat for this war. Victory be with you as well Ivanka." Oh they were ready alright. Every man and woman under his command was calling for the blood of Amestris, calling for their deaths to avenge the loved ones who died, the city that was destroyed, and the loss that they suffered. But they weren't bloodthirsty beasts tugging impatiently at their masters chain, the chain that he held. No.... they were patient, they honed themselves so that when they struck, it would pierce the heart of every Amestrian inside that bloody wall.
As Ivanka left, Zabulon strode back into his tent and gazed at the different people doing their various duties. The radios were going and ready. Maps were laid out with markings of their foes. The tension point was high in the air, and all they needed was the final little snip that would snap them all into action. "Comrades," he began, all heads turning to him. "I want those artillery shells ready to offer fire support for the helicopters and support team. Snipers should be ready to take out any guards on the wall that remain and cause issues. I will be leading the main army personally. Are the various squads ready?" He asked of his people, not even turning his head as a raven came swooping into the tent and onto his shoulder. Others were a bit startled and hid it.... rather poorly. "Da. They are all merely waiting for your orders sir." He nodded slowly and stood behind his table, checking the radio that was in his ear. He could hear Ivanka talking on the other end to his troops but he paid them no mind for the moment. Once they moved, then it would all begin. "Let this game begin." He murmured, looking at the open flaps of his tent, ready for the sound of pounding footsteps to signal that they were moving out.
Guest- Guest
Re: MISSION: World War III: Peace and the Pestilence of RIOTE {1}
by Emmelin Tue May 15, 2012 11:30 pm
April XX, 2012: 4:59 WITHIN FORT BRIGGS
Patience.. patience..patience! That was the chant she played in her head. Her body paced in an over-anxious manner. When was this battle going? When would it FINALLY be started Valeria was over anxious and it wasn't like she could see or hear anything from her allies. A click of her tongue and she would sigh. From other people's point of view it looked as if she had lost something or she was waiting. Indeed she WAS waiting. Pacing a bit before standing still like giddy child.
Shouts reached her ears and she smirked. Her tongue running over her lips, she patiently waited. An overexcited woman who couldn't wait to lift her disguise and lash at the first man, woman or child she saw. A sigh. Tick tock, time goes by. Not fast enough. the torture, the pain. It was nearly overwhelming to keep herself in her game. Keep yourself calm; control yourself. Keep up the work or else the others will fall out of line. Darty eyes, glaring at the occasional overzealous man. Stay in line. I will put you there if you get out of place. Her eyes seemed to say with such glaring violet orbs.
[short post I apologize]
Patience.. patience..patience! That was the chant she played in her head. Her body paced in an over-anxious manner. When was this battle going? When would it FINALLY be started Valeria was over anxious and it wasn't like she could see or hear anything from her allies. A click of her tongue and she would sigh. From other people's point of view it looked as if she had lost something or she was waiting. Indeed she WAS waiting. Pacing a bit before standing still like giddy child.
Shouts reached her ears and she smirked. Her tongue running over her lips, she patiently waited. An overexcited woman who couldn't wait to lift her disguise and lash at the first man, woman or child she saw. A sigh. Tick tock, time goes by. Not fast enough. the torture, the pain. It was nearly overwhelming to keep herself in her game. Keep yourself calm; control yourself. Keep up the work or else the others will fall out of line. Darty eyes, glaring at the occasional overzealous man. Stay in line. I will put you there if you get out of place. Her eyes seemed to say with such glaring violet orbs.
[short post I apologize]
Emmelin- PICTURE PERFECT
- Posts : 295
Points : 345
-Case File-
Level: 1
Rank: ?
Writer: Ammy
Re: MISSION: World War III: Peace and the Pestilence of RIOTE {1}
by Guest Sun May 20, 2012 1:52 am
Amestrian-Drachman border: 11 kilometers north-east of the Briggs Mountain Range: April XX, 2012: 04:29 Central Time (CT)
(~(To note, Reznov speaks in Purple, in Drachman. owo)~)
Listening to the speeches and the orders, Kean had to ponder; why was he even in Drachma? What compelled him to display this nationalism he'd formerly never seen before? Heck, he'd been living in Amestris for nearly six years of his life! And he was eleven, that's like, half! It was just so... Surreal. How he could just go from one life to another so fast... But he had been told much about Drachma when he was found and placed in Kuvalda, so he had accepted it. And he didn't regret being brought back to Drachma to serve as a child soldier for a nation allied with international terrorists; he'd been born here anyways.
But his attention was brought to a certain Ivanka, head of Kuvalda and the Drachman military. He gave another speech-load of orders, and Kean listened to them. He was to go with a guy called Reznov and take out chunks of Briggs with explosives, ne? Cool beans! Or rather, he could do this. So as Ivanka finished what he was saying, Kean saluted, trying his darnedest to look dignified. "Understood!" With a nod to Reznov, the explosives team set off for Briggs.
Fort Briggs: Sneaking Around in the Outer Interior of Briggs: April XX, 2012: 04:47 Central Time (CT)
Infiltration successful! With everyone else doing whatever they were doing, Kean and Reznov were at the edge of Briggs, keeping quiet. Kean had been issued a number of explosive packages made specifically for him; each one was set off not by a fuse, or through remote ignition, rather, it was detonated by the highly concentrated photon blasts he could fire from his watches with alchemy; essentially, should anyone find one, it would be nearly impossible to deactivate. Reznov, on the other hand, was using normal bombs; much easier to mass-detonate, but they lacked the security of Kean's charges.
"Okay then Reznov-guy, what are our targets again?"
"Well mainly, we are supposed to take out some watch towers and a few supplies buildings, including an ammunition facility. Tread lightly, Listora." Ah, what a serious fellow he was, him and his wirey frame and glasses. But he was a skilled demolitions expert, so Kean questioned him not, even if he did look nerdy!
And he thus set out, on a quest to lay bombs. First he set one package up, positioning it under some garbage nearby, covering parts of the garbage in snow to totally mask its presence. And so he did with other locations, as it thusly began...
(~(To note, Reznov speaks in Purple, in Drachman. owo)~)
Listening to the speeches and the orders, Kean had to ponder; why was he even in Drachma? What compelled him to display this nationalism he'd formerly never seen before? Heck, he'd been living in Amestris for nearly six years of his life! And he was eleven, that's like, half! It was just so... Surreal. How he could just go from one life to another so fast... But he had been told much about Drachma when he was found and placed in Kuvalda, so he had accepted it. And he didn't regret being brought back to Drachma to serve as a child soldier for a nation allied with international terrorists; he'd been born here anyways.
But his attention was brought to a certain Ivanka, head of Kuvalda and the Drachman military. He gave another speech-load of orders, and Kean listened to them. He was to go with a guy called Reznov and take out chunks of Briggs with explosives, ne? Cool beans! Or rather, he could do this. So as Ivanka finished what he was saying, Kean saluted, trying his darnedest to look dignified. "Understood!" With a nod to Reznov, the explosives team set off for Briggs.
Fort Briggs: Sneaking Around in the Outer Interior of Briggs: April XX, 2012: 04:47 Central Time (CT)
Infiltration successful! With everyone else doing whatever they were doing, Kean and Reznov were at the edge of Briggs, keeping quiet. Kean had been issued a number of explosive packages made specifically for him; each one was set off not by a fuse, or through remote ignition, rather, it was detonated by the highly concentrated photon blasts he could fire from his watches with alchemy; essentially, should anyone find one, it would be nearly impossible to deactivate. Reznov, on the other hand, was using normal bombs; much easier to mass-detonate, but they lacked the security of Kean's charges.
"Okay then Reznov-guy, what are our targets again?"
"Well mainly, we are supposed to take out some watch towers and a few supplies buildings, including an ammunition facility. Tread lightly, Listora." Ah, what a serious fellow he was, him and his wirey frame and glasses. But he was a skilled demolitions expert, so Kean questioned him not, even if he did look nerdy!
And he thus set out, on a quest to lay bombs. First he set one package up, positioning it under some garbage nearby, covering parts of the garbage in snow to totally mask its presence. And so he did with other locations, as it thusly began...
Guest- Guest
FORT BRIGGS- Watch Tower > Office > Watch Tower: Jet, Dai, Mr. Peach, Mura,
by Reila Tsukino Sun May 20, 2012 6:59 pm
"Hey princess..." AHJESUSCHRIST. Reila slapped a hand against her chest and sucked in a sharp breath. Her phone continued the bland ring tone, but her attention diverted to the words that encroached upon the comforting silence she had been experiencing. She gave Jet Black a level look and removed her hand from against her, staring at the dawn breaking against the sky. God, she nearly flung the hunk of metal over the ledge of the tower. Shivering to herself, she tried to swallow the surprise and erase the early morning comfort that had begun to poison her alertness. This was Fort Briggs, yes, the people here were safe; she was safe, but yes, Jet also could have been an enemy sneaking up on her. She had to be more aware. Be. More. Aware.
"Hello?" It was such a blunt answer, but... just hearing his voice brought this brimming feeling of joy. Everything was okay. No matter what happened, Dai was here. She closed her eyes and smiled.
"Hello. Just needed to hear your voice," she answered briefly, "Okay bye." She hung up and clipped her phone back into place. Dai was here. She opened her eyes and looked straight ahead back into the snowy landscape. Alright, time to get back to work. She really had to figure out this tactic or she would really be piss--
"I don't mean to interrupt ma'am, but--" Reila winced, rubbing her forearms as if a bucket of water had been dumped over her head.
"Don't call me that!"
"--I believe that attack we've been expecting is coming. Today. Now."
"What." She looked all about her. At everything. And found nothing. Shooting Jet a bewildered, inquisitive look, out of the corner of her eye she saw through the window that the door to her office inside had flown open. Leaving Jet there without further inquiry, she rushed back inside, nearly colliding with Mr. Peach.
"Reila, please get ready fast."
"What are you talking about?! I need information. N--" Mr. Peach began to explain the dream he had had about a pink tiger (which she hardly could believe was a representation of herself) being slaughtered by wolves (which were her favorite animal) that represented, what, the Drachmans? She tilted her head to the side, trying to discern what that meant, but couldn't place any deciding details that alluded to where the attack would be and when exactly. She clenched a fist and looked him hard in the eyes. She had dreams like that every night.
"You're instincts were right. It's coming." Her men being torn apart--their accusing looks--her failure to round them up to retaliate. Her fort's defenses becoming a meager obstacle instead of the highest area of defense in the entire world. Yeah, she had dreams about that every night, but each of the mornings that followed, no attack came. So what did that even mean. What was Jet claiming? She looked outside and saw the same day as any other. Still, she had the same feeling she couldn't shake. But what could she do about it? Put everyone so much further on edge that they fell over the side? No, she wasn't going to make the call unless there were facts. Letting her paranoia flood over would only hurt the trust in her that everyone carried. Without that trust, there was nothing. She ignored Mr. Peach's final words, processing everything she currently had and analyzing all possibilities. She leaned on her desk with both arms, glaring ahead at the wall so as to not appear angry at the old man who may or may not be as equally paranoid as herself and Jet. She picked up her phone and dialed Murazar's number, but it continuously rang and rang until she felt like her ear would fall off in anticipation. Slamming her phone back into the harness around her leg, she faced the door. It was a long ways to where she would guess Mura was. In that time, anything could happen...
The screen ahead of her toned and flicked on, Mura's face appearing, his vibrant blue eyes searching for her own that instantly met his. Looking winded, golden irises begged silently for information, any information. "Reila, moments ago we just lost two Unmanned Aerial Vehicles in the same search grid due to impact damage. In other words gun fire of some kind. It's around ten to twenty Kilometers out and the search area of which both areas looks quite large. While I have my people searching for further information and ready to go if necessary. I am recommending maximum alert status by all personnel and stand-by status in preparation for a swift attack upon us. I am also recommending the utmost caution in broadcasting our state of readiness."
"Fuck." Exasperated, she slammed a fist into her desk and leaned her head into her arms, taking a deep breath. She raised her head, flicking her eyes back at Mura's on the screen and stood up perfectly straight. "It's here. Mura, prepare for an full scale war. Utilize your men: standby. I will be making the announcement shortly." She flipped the switch inside herself, and breezed past Mr. Peach with an all-knowing smirk as she grabbed the receiver on the wall. This was her element. "Ferris, sound the alarm. Code 533fsw." She pressed the tone dial button and this time her voice was projected through the PA system to all of Fort Briggs. "Good Morning! The weather is at a high -2 with scattered blizzards and a 40% chance of frostbite~ In other news," her voice changed from its cheery tones to her serious commanding tone, "an avalanche is on the horizon. I say: it's about time, what about you guys? Standby where you are. Prepare yourselves discreetly." She ended the transmission, and immediately red lights beamed about the entire Fort, silently alerting everyone...that was until the loud alarm began flaring deafening pitches for a minute and a half before returning to the silent red lights again. Reila went back out onto the watch tower, squinting in the direction of the coordinates flashing across the screen of her phone. Ten to twenty kilometers... they were ten to twenty kilometers away from a war they could very well lose.
[TITLE YOUR POSTS DAMMIT. And posting order is now done. Just keep relative so it makes sense.]
"Hello?" It was such a blunt answer, but... just hearing his voice brought this brimming feeling of joy. Everything was okay. No matter what happened, Dai was here. She closed her eyes and smiled.
"Hello. Just needed to hear your voice," she answered briefly, "Okay bye." She hung up and clipped her phone back into place. Dai was here. She opened her eyes and looked straight ahead back into the snowy landscape. Alright, time to get back to work. She really had to figure out this tactic or she would really be piss--
"I don't mean to interrupt ma'am, but--" Reila winced, rubbing her forearms as if a bucket of water had been dumped over her head.
"Don't call me that!"
"--I believe that attack we've been expecting is coming. Today. Now."
"What." She looked all about her. At everything. And found nothing. Shooting Jet a bewildered, inquisitive look, out of the corner of her eye she saw through the window that the door to her office inside had flown open. Leaving Jet there without further inquiry, she rushed back inside, nearly colliding with Mr. Peach.
"Reila, please get ready fast."
"What are you talking about?! I need information. N--" Mr. Peach began to explain the dream he had had about a pink tiger (which she hardly could believe was a representation of herself) being slaughtered by wolves (which were her favorite animal) that represented, what, the Drachmans? She tilted her head to the side, trying to discern what that meant, but couldn't place any deciding details that alluded to where the attack would be and when exactly. She clenched a fist and looked him hard in the eyes. She had dreams like that every night.
"You're instincts were right. It's coming." Her men being torn apart--their accusing looks--her failure to round them up to retaliate. Her fort's defenses becoming a meager obstacle instead of the highest area of defense in the entire world. Yeah, she had dreams about that every night, but each of the mornings that followed, no attack came. So what did that even mean. What was Jet claiming? She looked outside and saw the same day as any other. Still, she had the same feeling she couldn't shake. But what could she do about it? Put everyone so much further on edge that they fell over the side? No, she wasn't going to make the call unless there were facts. Letting her paranoia flood over would only hurt the trust in her that everyone carried. Without that trust, there was nothing. She ignored Mr. Peach's final words, processing everything she currently had and analyzing all possibilities. She leaned on her desk with both arms, glaring ahead at the wall so as to not appear angry at the old man who may or may not be as equally paranoid as herself and Jet. She picked up her phone and dialed Murazar's number, but it continuously rang and rang until she felt like her ear would fall off in anticipation. Slamming her phone back into the harness around her leg, she faced the door. It was a long ways to where she would guess Mura was. In that time, anything could happen...
The screen ahead of her toned and flicked on, Mura's face appearing, his vibrant blue eyes searching for her own that instantly met his. Looking winded, golden irises begged silently for information, any information. "Reila, moments ago we just lost two Unmanned Aerial Vehicles in the same search grid due to impact damage. In other words gun fire of some kind. It's around ten to twenty Kilometers out and the search area of which both areas looks quite large. While I have my people searching for further information and ready to go if necessary. I am recommending maximum alert status by all personnel and stand-by status in preparation for a swift attack upon us. I am also recommending the utmost caution in broadcasting our state of readiness."
"Fuck." Exasperated, she slammed a fist into her desk and leaned her head into her arms, taking a deep breath. She raised her head, flicking her eyes back at Mura's on the screen and stood up perfectly straight. "It's here. Mura, prepare for an full scale war. Utilize your men: standby. I will be making the announcement shortly." She flipped the switch inside herself, and breezed past Mr. Peach with an all-knowing smirk as she grabbed the receiver on the wall. This was her element. "Ferris, sound the alarm. Code 533fsw." She pressed the tone dial button and this time her voice was projected through the PA system to all of Fort Briggs. "Good Morning! The weather is at a high -2 with scattered blizzards and a 40% chance of frostbite~ In other news," her voice changed from its cheery tones to her serious commanding tone, "an avalanche is on the horizon. I say: it's about time, what about you guys? Standby where you are. Prepare yourselves discreetly." She ended the transmission, and immediately red lights beamed about the entire Fort, silently alerting everyone...that was until the loud alarm began flaring deafening pitches for a minute and a half before returning to the silent red lights again. Reila went back out onto the watch tower, squinting in the direction of the coordinates flashing across the screen of her phone. Ten to twenty kilometers... they were ten to twenty kilometers away from a war they could very well lose.
[TITLE YOUR POSTS DAMMIT. And posting order is now done. Just keep relative so it makes sense.]
Reila Tsukino- Posts : 2269
Points : 1089
Location : Fort Briggs
-Case File-
Level: ∞
Rank:
Writer:
BRIGGS CORRIDORS -> WATCHTOWER: JET, DAI, REILA, MR. PEACH, MURA
by Guest Sun May 20, 2012 7:59 pm
Heading over to the Lieutenant General's office was a matter of triviality. It was a pleasant morning walk, and usually one without event; he was ignored by most regular soldiers, and the stars on his leathered lapel meant that those that DID acknowledge him respected him. A salute here and there to bolster his ego never went wrong, and the assassin always replied with a gentle bob of the head.
However, today, it seemed, was different. As the pale, silver-haired assassin turned the corner into the last stretch of his journey, around the time the clock chimed 5AM, a nearby PA speaker crackled, and an alarm whined in the background, shrill tones piercing the sullen silence that usually hung over the frosted outpost. "In other news, an avalanche is on the horizon. I say: it's about time, what about you guys? Standby where you are. Prepare yourselves discreetly."
It wasn't like Ayden to disobey an order like that, but he was a General. Rule of thumb was that if he skipped over an order of preparation or two to try and cycle further up to visit the heads of Briggs' chain of command, nobody really paid it any heed. So as the entire fort ground into gear, and as every soldier in that corridor cocked their rifles and pulled on their grimy, wet boots, and blue-and-gold uniforms, Ayden checked Typhon's magazine one more time, and pivoted on his heel, heading straight for the epicentre of the action - all too quickly, he ascended up through the fortress' higher echelons, icicles dropping from every nook and cranny and trying to shear through the assassin as the entire structure awoke from the Amestrian ice queen's orders.
In a matter of moments, a silent, pale, leather-clad ghost, Ayden appeared in the ajar door-frame, clutching his shotgun, a sickly smile sitting upon that depraved, deranged pallor of his. He ignored everyone else in the room - his co-worker, the old man with the affinity for teas, his old boss and technically his superior, and the second-in-command carrying a particular weakness for a good speech or two. No, Ayden brushed straight past them without a single glint of acknowledgement in his eyes, and moved straight up through the office and out onto the watchtower, hovering and gliding through the room, the cold presence of death looming over head, lingering like an omen, a bad smell, a haunting feeling. And, there, she stood, staring at blips on the screen of her phone, the silent warrior, the harbinger of death standing inches from her as he spoke. The ice on his voice was just as real as the frost that clung to the railings of the tower itself. "Ma'am,"
As cold as they were, his tones were laden with cynicism and sarcasm, knowing just how much the pink-haired Lieutenant General despised those tones of formality, especially between close cohorts as they were. A devilish grin made its way onto the madman's face, crawling through his expression and revealing a set of perfect pearly whites, refracting the pale sunlight of the early morning as they did so. Finally, Ayden slammed the drum magazine back into Typhon proper, smiling that demonic smile of his, looking off into the middle-distance as he cycled the bolt and released a sigh, gentle, slow, and almost deathly.
"It's been too long since there's been a good fight about," Gloved black fingers danced along the polished framework of the gun, almost caring, a caressing grasp as his finger curled gently around the trigger, holding the USAS-12 at ease. Sure, he was engaged, now... and he loved Jeu-Hee, but that didn't matter. Ayden's eyes narrowed; a fight... a fight was a fight. "Don't you agree, Reila?" The smile only widened ever further, the chilling breeze of the Amestrian north washing over Ayden, the assassin's body embracing and welcoming it as goosebumps rose on what little pale flesh was still visible. "Far too long indeed," A low, dry chuckle escaped the threshold of the lesser General's mouth, black coat billowing in the harsh breeze behind his tall, gaunt frame.
It would certainly be a day to remember... Ayden knew that much. Perhaps the most eventful since the appearance of his would-be prodigy, his apprentice, the protégé under his wing now still; and perhaps the most glorious and bloody the man had experienced since his tenure in Esparia, or the Ballzini crusades... ah, only time would tell, Ayden knew from many a day wading through the corpses, blood, and entrails of his enemies, intermingled with the stench of death, cordite, and the light ting of spent cartridges and shed bullet casings touching the floor...
Certainly a day to remember indeed...
However, today, it seemed, was different. As the pale, silver-haired assassin turned the corner into the last stretch of his journey, around the time the clock chimed 5AM, a nearby PA speaker crackled, and an alarm whined in the background, shrill tones piercing the sullen silence that usually hung over the frosted outpost. "In other news, an avalanche is on the horizon. I say: it's about time, what about you guys? Standby where you are. Prepare yourselves discreetly."
It wasn't like Ayden to disobey an order like that, but he was a General. Rule of thumb was that if he skipped over an order of preparation or two to try and cycle further up to visit the heads of Briggs' chain of command, nobody really paid it any heed. So as the entire fort ground into gear, and as every soldier in that corridor cocked their rifles and pulled on their grimy, wet boots, and blue-and-gold uniforms, Ayden checked Typhon's magazine one more time, and pivoted on his heel, heading straight for the epicentre of the action - all too quickly, he ascended up through the fortress' higher echelons, icicles dropping from every nook and cranny and trying to shear through the assassin as the entire structure awoke from the Amestrian ice queen's orders.
In a matter of moments, a silent, pale, leather-clad ghost, Ayden appeared in the ajar door-frame, clutching his shotgun, a sickly smile sitting upon that depraved, deranged pallor of his. He ignored everyone else in the room - his co-worker, the old man with the affinity for teas, his old boss and technically his superior, and the second-in-command carrying a particular weakness for a good speech or two. No, Ayden brushed straight past them without a single glint of acknowledgement in his eyes, and moved straight up through the office and out onto the watchtower, hovering and gliding through the room, the cold presence of death looming over head, lingering like an omen, a bad smell, a haunting feeling. And, there, she stood, staring at blips on the screen of her phone, the silent warrior, the harbinger of death standing inches from her as he spoke. The ice on his voice was just as real as the frost that clung to the railings of the tower itself. "Ma'am,"
As cold as they were, his tones were laden with cynicism and sarcasm, knowing just how much the pink-haired Lieutenant General despised those tones of formality, especially between close cohorts as they were. A devilish grin made its way onto the madman's face, crawling through his expression and revealing a set of perfect pearly whites, refracting the pale sunlight of the early morning as they did so. Finally, Ayden slammed the drum magazine back into Typhon proper, smiling that demonic smile of his, looking off into the middle-distance as he cycled the bolt and released a sigh, gentle, slow, and almost deathly.
"It's been too long since there's been a good fight about," Gloved black fingers danced along the polished framework of the gun, almost caring, a caressing grasp as his finger curled gently around the trigger, holding the USAS-12 at ease. Sure, he was engaged, now... and he loved Jeu-Hee, but that didn't matter. Ayden's eyes narrowed; a fight... a fight was a fight. "Don't you agree, Reila?" The smile only widened ever further, the chilling breeze of the Amestrian north washing over Ayden, the assassin's body embracing and welcoming it as goosebumps rose on what little pale flesh was still visible. "Far too long indeed," A low, dry chuckle escaped the threshold of the lesser General's mouth, black coat billowing in the harsh breeze behind his tall, gaunt frame.
It would certainly be a day to remember... Ayden knew that much. Perhaps the most eventful since the appearance of his would-be prodigy, his apprentice, the protégé under his wing now still; and perhaps the most glorious and bloody the man had experienced since his tenure in Esparia, or the Ballzini crusades... ah, only time would tell, Ayden knew from many a day wading through the corpses, blood, and entrails of his enemies, intermingled with the stench of death, cordite, and the light ting of spent cartridges and shed bullet casings touching the floor...
Certainly a day to remember indeed...
Last edited by Ayden Derocha on Sun May 27, 2012 10:26 am; edited 1 time in total
Guest- Guest
Top of Briggs>Watchtower: Reila, Dai, Mura, Peach, Ayden, Jet
by Felix Lucas Mon May 21, 2012 1:10 am
Akito sat on top of the fort after making his last report to whoever was on the other end of this radio, and began polishing his handgun with a small cloth for the millionth time. Granted, this didn't improve anything, but it was something to do with his hands. After rubbing it down for a couple minutes, he stood back up, grabbed his rifle, and looked down around the fort through the scope. Still better than a pair of binoculars in his opinion. He saw something moving down there.
"Hello, what have we here?", he said to himself. He looked a little harder at the movement that had piqued his interest. It was someone rearranging some trash at different points around Briggs. Interesting, but then again, North City had to have its psychos and OCD people and who knows what other conditions would motivate someone to risk military property to rearrange trash. He was about to report this when he heard Briggs' PA come on, giving a warning to prepare for something that was most definitely not an avalanche. Akito took this as a cue, loading a magazine into his rifle, sliding another into place on his handgun, slinging the rifle onto his back, holstering the pistol, and heading inside the watchtower, where he saw a pretty decent crowd gathered on the floor a little below him, where Reila's office connected. Walking down the steps as fast as he could, he waved at Reila to get her attention.
"Ma'am, I just recently noticed someone near the fort who looked like they were messing around with some garbage. I don't know why. I figured coming to tell you in person was more discreet than using the radi-" He cut himself off as he saw Mr. Peach in the room as well. "Mr. Peach? What are you doing here?" Shaking his head, he looked around the room once more. "Wait, I need to do something now, before I have to do anything else." Since there were multiple people in his room, Akito figured he had time to do this now, and he might not have the time or the relative warmth to have the coat off for even a small amount of time elsewhere, he took off his coat, placed in on the ground, and emptied the shale and obsidian pieces out of the pouch on his belt and onto the circle in the coat. Brushing the shale to the side, he transmuted the obsidian into five throwing knives, nicely balanced ones, if he had to say so himself, and slid them into a pocket of the coat where he could get at them. The shale, he made into a handful of sharp caltrops that went back into the pouch, so they didn't stab him. He put the coat back on, shook his shoulders, and awaited instruction of some sort.
"Hello, what have we here?", he said to himself. He looked a little harder at the movement that had piqued his interest. It was someone rearranging some trash at different points around Briggs. Interesting, but then again, North City had to have its psychos and OCD people and who knows what other conditions would motivate someone to risk military property to rearrange trash. He was about to report this when he heard Briggs' PA come on, giving a warning to prepare for something that was most definitely not an avalanche. Akito took this as a cue, loading a magazine into his rifle, sliding another into place on his handgun, slinging the rifle onto his back, holstering the pistol, and heading inside the watchtower, where he saw a pretty decent crowd gathered on the floor a little below him, where Reila's office connected. Walking down the steps as fast as he could, he waved at Reila to get her attention.
"Ma'am, I just recently noticed someone near the fort who looked like they were messing around with some garbage. I don't know why. I figured coming to tell you in person was more discreet than using the radi-" He cut himself off as he saw Mr. Peach in the room as well. "Mr. Peach? What are you doing here?" Shaking his head, he looked around the room once more. "Wait, I need to do something now, before I have to do anything else." Since there were multiple people in his room, Akito figured he had time to do this now, and he might not have the time or the relative warmth to have the coat off for even a small amount of time elsewhere, he took off his coat, placed in on the ground, and emptied the shale and obsidian pieces out of the pouch on his belt and onto the circle in the coat. Brushing the shale to the side, he transmuted the obsidian into five throwing knives, nicely balanced ones, if he had to say so himself, and slid them into a pocket of the coat where he could get at them. The shale, he made into a handful of sharp caltrops that went back into the pouch, so they didn't stab him. He put the coat back on, shook his shoulders, and awaited instruction of some sort.
Felix Lucas- BLOODY INNOCENT
- Posts : 67
Points : 18
-Case File-
Level: 1
Rank: Head of South HQ Health
Writer: Kito
FORT BRIGGS- THE FOUNDRY --Watch Tower: Jet, Dai, Mr. Peach, Reila, Ayden, Akito
by Murazar Dauthi Wed May 23, 2012 2:10 pm
WITHIN FORT BRIGGS --- Office of Ft. Briggs Intelligence --- AKA the S2 Shop or the Foundry
April XX, 2012: 05:00 Central Time (CT)
Murazar left the screen on so he could see Reila and anyone else who popped into view. In other words keep and open line of constant flowing battle data and plans to the one who enacted them. Murazar flew through all the data on his computer and compiled it in his head while his team constantly submitted intel, possibilities, possible enemy plans or tactics, past ones, experimental projects, request for intel procedures and more UAV’s. He granted all the request, anything and everything was vital to the immediate defense and survival of those inside Briggs.
He came up with something in his mind that sounded like the best possibility for what was going to happen, it was a gamble. If he was wrong they would lose more lives than it would save and they’d lose a foothold faster than losing it slower. Their reaction time to the proaction time of the Drachman forces was too slow. No matter what the first move and piece of the game was theirs...Murazar just wanted to force it to cost them more than otherwise deserved. He stood up and look back to Reila his posture rigid and strong. His tone as he spoke frozen with calm, coldness, fierce concentration and the obvious gambling of lives about to be spoken of.
“Reila. I believe from our currently greatest weakness and from their strengths the Drachman forces will most likely assault via Air and Artillery whilst landing Air Assault soldiers from the helicopters to security our top layer defenses. They know from prior attempts that this is our weakest and most vulnerable position while simultaneously being one of greatest defenses. Most of our counter-artillery and anti-air capabilities are up there. Once those Helicopters land on the roof so to speak, we’ll be unable to properly fight back and we’ll either have to try and retake the roof in order to try and fight off the attack before they secure it. Or we’ll have to disable our own defenses and prevent them from assaulting downward without explosives or cutting torches.”
He paused to let the information sink in before he spoke up again, unhesitatingly giving his recommendation. ”Our best shot is to rig our defenses to explode on switches and to fight back just long enough to get those switches installed and as many of our men out of there. If i’m right we’ll end up taking out more of their troops and hold them off until we can properly mobilize our soldiers and lead either a counter-attack or at least retake the roof with our own air power from the airfield. This course of action endangers us the least, the only downfall is if or when we retake the roof we wont have any defenses set up. At the least our own defenses wont be used against us.” He paused to let it sink in before returning to his work. The obviousness hung in the stale cold air.
Those men up there setting the charges would most likely all die, or at least most of them. Air assaults would be too fast and too precisely conducted. Murazar had calculations that they would most likely only destroy most of their own equipment before sealing the entrances/exits to the roof and preparing men one level down to fight back upon explosive or cutting torch entry. Murazar didn’t like the choice, it wasn’t effective enough or had enough time to reach maximum potential. Murazar kept his ears open and occasionally glanced at the screen to gauge Reila and await any questions. He started to issue out orders over the e-mail for everyone to prepare destruction of all paperwork of sensitive nature. If he was right in his head, they had a huge chance of losing Briggs and he wasn’t going to allow any classified material to be caught. At the least they could take the computers with them. That was one small blessing of laptops.
April XX, 2012: 05:00 Central Time (CT)
Murazar left the screen on so he could see Reila and anyone else who popped into view. In other words keep and open line of constant flowing battle data and plans to the one who enacted them. Murazar flew through all the data on his computer and compiled it in his head while his team constantly submitted intel, possibilities, possible enemy plans or tactics, past ones, experimental projects, request for intel procedures and more UAV’s. He granted all the request, anything and everything was vital to the immediate defense and survival of those inside Briggs.
He came up with something in his mind that sounded like the best possibility for what was going to happen, it was a gamble. If he was wrong they would lose more lives than it would save and they’d lose a foothold faster than losing it slower. Their reaction time to the proaction time of the Drachman forces was too slow. No matter what the first move and piece of the game was theirs...Murazar just wanted to force it to cost them more than otherwise deserved. He stood up and look back to Reila his posture rigid and strong. His tone as he spoke frozen with calm, coldness, fierce concentration and the obvious gambling of lives about to be spoken of.
“Reila. I believe from our currently greatest weakness and from their strengths the Drachman forces will most likely assault via Air and Artillery whilst landing Air Assault soldiers from the helicopters to security our top layer defenses. They know from prior attempts that this is our weakest and most vulnerable position while simultaneously being one of greatest defenses. Most of our counter-artillery and anti-air capabilities are up there. Once those Helicopters land on the roof so to speak, we’ll be unable to properly fight back and we’ll either have to try and retake the roof in order to try and fight off the attack before they secure it. Or we’ll have to disable our own defenses and prevent them from assaulting downward without explosives or cutting torches.”
He paused to let the information sink in before he spoke up again, unhesitatingly giving his recommendation. ”Our best shot is to rig our defenses to explode on switches and to fight back just long enough to get those switches installed and as many of our men out of there. If i’m right we’ll end up taking out more of their troops and hold them off until we can properly mobilize our soldiers and lead either a counter-attack or at least retake the roof with our own air power from the airfield. This course of action endangers us the least, the only downfall is if or when we retake the roof we wont have any defenses set up. At the least our own defenses wont be used against us.” He paused to let it sink in before returning to his work. The obviousness hung in the stale cold air.
Those men up there setting the charges would most likely all die, or at least most of them. Air assaults would be too fast and too precisely conducted. Murazar had calculations that they would most likely only destroy most of their own equipment before sealing the entrances/exits to the roof and preparing men one level down to fight back upon explosive or cutting torch entry. Murazar didn’t like the choice, it wasn’t effective enough or had enough time to reach maximum potential. Murazar kept his ears open and occasionally glanced at the screen to gauge Reila and await any questions. He started to issue out orders over the e-mail for everyone to prepare destruction of all paperwork of sensitive nature. If he was right in his head, they had a huge chance of losing Briggs and he wasn’t going to allow any classified material to be caught. At the least they could take the computers with them. That was one small blessing of laptops.
Murazar Dauthi- SOUL CATCHER
- Posts : 629
Points : 350
-Case File-
Level: 4
Rank: Chronos
Writer: Mura
Within Fort Briggs --->Amestrian occupants
by Emmelin Sun May 27, 2012 10:58 pm
Patience grew thin and the woman was done waiting. by now, the men should be dispersed and she could have free-reign HELL to unleash upon these people. Did she know them? No. Did she give any shits? No. It was time to let the ball drop. Valeria had to restrain herself from the internal giggles that crackled and licked at her like an over glowing flame. No, there was no turning back now. The grin slid inside and she couldn't help but hake a hand in attempts to let the excess energy go off. Fragile. Such fragile beings to die by my unholy blade. Would her men make it? Did she really care? The woman without a heart only had one thing in mind and that was destruction. Blood stained streets and terrified screams. The time to attack was coming then. She was ready.
Upon the horizon, was the cries of war. One such Drahman attack, au la Ivanka. That was his name, right? Valeria couldn't be so sure. With her laughs filling her mind, she suddenly walked up to an officer and slid in place behind him. Beautiful blood. It pumped through his veins. "Sir. Do you have a moment?" She would ask, politely. The man turned and gave a questioning look. Val swiftly saluted the man, before he moved his lips to ask.
"Can I help you, Ma'am?" His voice was sweet like honey. Blood. She could see it. It excited her, really. The woman's eyes showed such a sweet smile as she walked up to him, closer still. She could feel it, the crimson nectar. The heart that pumped it through his veins. It needed to stop. NOW! Her hands moved swiftly, an army knife to the man's throat. A soft crimson spray. Valeria couldn't help but chuckle as the body grunted and squirmed a bit in surprise. A few final jerks, and he was gone. Pleasant. Warm blood, it covered her uniform. It was almost too tempting for her. Oh well, now was not the time for THOSE kinds of acts. More blood. She needed it.
A monster ate at the inside of her stomach. It numbed her inwardly, pawing with a need to eat. It wanted to devour them all, set the souls free. A pistol in her uniform, an army knife and her scythe, which was quickly grabbed from a hiding place. Death. It's not enough. MORE! Her breathing was almost as if she had run a mile, loud pants. She wanted it, to take these lives. Oh the thrill. The monster spoke more, Cleanse them all, wipe them away. The sinners, all of them had to perish and burn in Hell. Throwing the body from her body, inadvertently spraying more blood, the signal had been sent. "GO!" She hissed into the hidden microphone. The games had started.
All over the city, men turned on men. People in uniforms, turned to strike their brothers in arms. Some were more stealthy than others. How many men were there? Not everyone turned at the same time, of course. Each was upon their own pace, but all were eager. Val herself, had gained a first kill as she turned to see a terrified man. Laughing a bit louder than intended, she ducked forward with great speed and found her scythe in his skull. Blood. Beautiful blood. How it poured and dripped into the snow. Valeria let out a soft gasp of pleasure, before twirling it to remove the blade from his skull. The man crumpled, dead instantly. Oh this was fun.
The bullets started and she darted around a corner. Cat and mouse. Come here, kitty, kitty. She whispered in her mind. Luring these men into a corner, it seemed so logical. Her feet would pivot and she ducked forward. She was of course, better than a normal officer. A scare was there though, a bullet flying and skimming her cheek, before she spun her scythe and threw it, effectively slaughtering two, before pulling out her own pistol and shooting two at the other two followers. Ammo. Leaning down, she threw down her old one, and grabbed a new two from the deceased, along with a clip. This WOULD be fun. Her eyes surveyed the men as they attacked. Battles where she couldn't even tell who her own men were. Again, Val gave no fucks on that. One man was all that interested her. How would he enjoy HER game? She wondered with a sly smile on her lips.
Come out and play. She spoke in her mind, as if he could hear her. Oh there were others there, no doubt. However, she didn't care about them. A game was before her. She had the upper hand for now. Running to her scythe, she gripped it tight in hand. Blood dripped again. Blood. Oh how the chant remained in her head. Not enough.... NOT ENOUGH! Her heart hammered with adrenaline and in fact, she began to sweat as a few of her hairs began to sprinkle upon her face. She was already dyed with blood. BANG! BANG!
Her hand had raised and the bullets were fired before she even realized it. Where had her legs carried her, even? Back of the head, both of them. They didn't even have time to shout. Oh, so sad they died with smiles on their faces. Val snorted and walked over, slamming her foot into the jaw of one body, before kicking it roughly into another officer and then, BANG. Another shot. She'd be running out of a gun soon. That was fine, with the count she had up there already, she wasn't really that worried about it. Another bullet shot whizzed past her. her hairs flew a bit from the close call that nicked her ear. Oh that was close.~ A smile flew onto her lips further. Oh what fun, she was having...
Upon the horizon, was the cries of war. One such Drahman attack, au la Ivanka. That was his name, right? Valeria couldn't be so sure. With her laughs filling her mind, she suddenly walked up to an officer and slid in place behind him. Beautiful blood. It pumped through his veins. "Sir. Do you have a moment?" She would ask, politely. The man turned and gave a questioning look. Val swiftly saluted the man, before he moved his lips to ask.
"Can I help you, Ma'am?" His voice was sweet like honey. Blood. She could see it. It excited her, really. The woman's eyes showed such a sweet smile as she walked up to him, closer still. She could feel it, the crimson nectar. The heart that pumped it through his veins. It needed to stop. NOW! Her hands moved swiftly, an army knife to the man's throat. A soft crimson spray. Valeria couldn't help but chuckle as the body grunted and squirmed a bit in surprise. A few final jerks, and he was gone. Pleasant. Warm blood, it covered her uniform. It was almost too tempting for her. Oh well, now was not the time for THOSE kinds of acts. More blood. She needed it.
A monster ate at the inside of her stomach. It numbed her inwardly, pawing with a need to eat. It wanted to devour them all, set the souls free. A pistol in her uniform, an army knife and her scythe, which was quickly grabbed from a hiding place. Death. It's not enough. MORE! Her breathing was almost as if she had run a mile, loud pants. She wanted it, to take these lives. Oh the thrill. The monster spoke more, Cleanse them all, wipe them away. The sinners, all of them had to perish and burn in Hell. Throwing the body from her body, inadvertently spraying more blood, the signal had been sent. "GO!" She hissed into the hidden microphone. The games had started.
All over the city, men turned on men. People in uniforms, turned to strike their brothers in arms. Some were more stealthy than others. How many men were there? Not everyone turned at the same time, of course. Each was upon their own pace, but all were eager. Val herself, had gained a first kill as she turned to see a terrified man. Laughing a bit louder than intended, she ducked forward with great speed and found her scythe in his skull. Blood. Beautiful blood. How it poured and dripped into the snow. Valeria let out a soft gasp of pleasure, before twirling it to remove the blade from his skull. The man crumpled, dead instantly. Oh this was fun.
The bullets started and she darted around a corner. Cat and mouse. Come here, kitty, kitty. She whispered in her mind. Luring these men into a corner, it seemed so logical. Her feet would pivot and she ducked forward. She was of course, better than a normal officer. A scare was there though, a bullet flying and skimming her cheek, before she spun her scythe and threw it, effectively slaughtering two, before pulling out her own pistol and shooting two at the other two followers. Ammo. Leaning down, she threw down her old one, and grabbed a new two from the deceased, along with a clip. This WOULD be fun. Her eyes surveyed the men as they attacked. Battles where she couldn't even tell who her own men were. Again, Val gave no fucks on that. One man was all that interested her. How would he enjoy HER game? She wondered with a sly smile on her lips.
Come out and play. She spoke in her mind, as if he could hear her. Oh there were others there, no doubt. However, she didn't care about them. A game was before her. She had the upper hand for now. Running to her scythe, she gripped it tight in hand. Blood dripped again. Blood. Oh how the chant remained in her head. Not enough.... NOT ENOUGH! Her heart hammered with adrenaline and in fact, she began to sweat as a few of her hairs began to sprinkle upon her face. She was already dyed with blood. BANG! BANG!
Her hand had raised and the bullets were fired before she even realized it. Where had her legs carried her, even? Back of the head, both of them. They didn't even have time to shout. Oh, so sad they died with smiles on their faces. Val snorted and walked over, slamming her foot into the jaw of one body, before kicking it roughly into another officer and then, BANG. Another shot. She'd be running out of a gun soon. That was fine, with the count she had up there already, she wasn't really that worried about it. Another bullet shot whizzed past her. her hairs flew a bit from the close call that nicked her ear. Oh that was close.~ A smile flew onto her lips further. Oh what fun, she was having...
Emmelin- PICTURE PERFECT
- Posts : 295
Points : 345
-Case File-
Level: 1
Rank: ?
Writer: Ammy
Re: MISSION: World War III: Peace and the Pestilence of RIOTE {1}
by Dai Wed Jun 06, 2012 1:05 am
"Hello. Just needed to hear your voice. Okay bye." The bland tone of a hung-up phone called to him, beeping over and over again as he continued to hold the cellular device up with a soft smile. "See-ya." Chuckling quietly, the man started to move his feet again, preparing to walk towards the bedroom from which he had arisen from. It was strange; there was something of a heavy air on this morning: an air that worried him somewhat, his eyes darting from wall-to-wall with a soft and careful gaze. "My, my." Placing his hands into his pockets and letting his fingers warm up from the coldness that spread over them, the man shook his head and smiled softly. As his footsteps resounded within the silent halls of Briggs, he heard something else--a set of rushing footsteps. Slowly turning his body, the red eyes took notice of a few people running out to the side, glancing back at him and then continuing onwards. A quick look at his surroundings, and the redhead noticed that there were no weapons nearby, before creeping back around the corner with a soft growl. Those uniforms were not of Briggs make, or were something attempting to appear to be of Briggs make. Quickly sliding around the corner, he was met with... nothing. Blinking a couple of times, the man took two steps forwards, before feeling it--"AH!"
A hand yanked away at the long red hair that fell behind his head, pulling him backwards. Struggling and crying out, the man attempted to turn his gaze to look, but was unable to move far enough around to properly see. A hurried and angered voice shouted at him in Drachman--"Na kaleni, suka." Hm. Maybe if he knew what that said, he would be more scared than he was now--His eyes widened slightly, and the hair was pulled again, dragging him closer and closer into the jaws of the beast. Planting a foot down, the redheaded man tried to keep himself in a stationary position, but knew that nothing would work with ease. Shouting out from the strain, he felt his body being pulled backwards--he would fall down if he wasn't stable enough. Gritting his teeth hard from the pain of his hair being pulled, he tried to struggle and escape, but to no avail. Managing to turn his head enough, the glint of a knife was apparent. "Is this... the end?" He couldn't give up... Reila would... Reila would kill him for dying!
"Good Morning! The weather is at a high -2 with scattered blizzards and a 40% chance of frostbite~" A smirk crossed pained lips. Speak of the angel. She seemed happy enough--was she not aware of the Drachman troops that were now within Briggs itself? His eyes were almost popping out of their sockets now, the man putting every resource he had to trying to escape from the tight grip of the Drachman Commando. The other had ignored the cheerful voice that came through the speakers, and when the tone changed, Dai's heart skipped a beat or two. "In other news, an avalanche is on the horizon. I say: it's about time, what about you guys? Standby where you are. Prepare yourselves discreetly." He grinned. "Hear that, Drachman?" The other did not, but when the sudden blaring of sirens and lights came into the silent world, well...
"TOO SLOW!" The Drachman man hesitated and took fright from the suddenness of the blaring alarms and the confident shout from the Aerugese-Ishvallan. That was all that Daigoro needed, using the sudden moment of hesitation on the part of the attacker to push himself backwards, get around the knife and twist his leg around the Drachman's, pulling out and attempting to trip him. When nothing happened, Dai's fist was found entering the gut of the other, pushing him backwards and trying to get him to release. The knife clattered on the ground near Dai's foot, but the man's other hand didn't let go. Another check of the situation revealed that Dai's attacker was wearing, on his right hand, a hefty amount of combat-class automail. Auto-locking system included. Impressive. Unfortunately, not helpful for Dai, in any way. Clenching his teeth, Dai made another attempt, knocking his attacker to the ground. As he did not let go, Dai felt the entire weight of the man pulling at his head. Pain blasted throughout his entire skull, the man gnashing his teeth wildly. There was only one thing to do. Reaching down in order to pick up the knife, he gripped it tightly in his right hand and closed his eyes. If he went into close-quarters combat while the other had a lock on his hair, there would be no competition. The other would have total control, able to fling Dai as they pleased. Instead, he would remove that control forcibly.
Turning the knife over in his hand, the male swallowed. He'd put a lot of time and effort into it, so to cut it away was such a waste. Closing his eyes, the man took in a deep breath. The pain would go away. Reaching the knife up, he heard shouts of protest coming from the man below him, who, due to their positions, was unable to move either. The knife came across taut hair, and with a quick motion, Daigoro began to cut raggedly through the tightness. With difficulty and a little bit of time, he managed to saw through the locks, feeling a piece of him fall away with every cut. Closing his eyes and swallowing bile backwards, he made the last cut and felt himself pull forwards, not losing momentum and spinning around on his left foot, looking down at the helpless Drachman who was both attempting to unlock his hand and get off of the ground--not an easy task when the ground was somewhat-iced, but a lot easier for a Briggs man. Watching him with almost deadly eyes, Daigoro waited for the Drachman to stand, before pushing off of the ground and lunging straight for him. Something had changed. Something had gone differently. As the hair had fallen...
He gave no quarter, his body would not stop. First, a fist to the side of the face, feeling the flesh fold under his bone. Next, he would jump, raising a leg into the air and bringing it around, clashing with the same place and knocking the man to the side, causing him to stumble. Landing once more, Dai didn't allow for any time to rest, moving to the other side of the Drachman and planting another fist into the gut of the soldier, knocking him back up and onto his feet, stumbling backwards further. Without warning, the foot was slid around backwards and used to push forwards once more, Daigoro keeping low and barging his shoulder into the chest of the Drachman man, feeling his body give way and knocking him to the ground. "You dare... invade us?" Without flinching, Dai's knee was on the chest of the Drachman, and the blade was at his throat. In the light that shone down behind him, the wild-looking, red-haired, red-eyed man would look demonic to this Drachman; so much so that he would begin shouting out cries of prayer to whatever God he believed in. Understanding that one word, Dai sighed and shook his head. "Do what you want. It won't save you now."
The knife was drawn across sharply, severing the throat of the man. Now exposed to air, the blood in his system would quickly cool down, freezing over the neck and suffocating him before causing him to bleed out. Slowly standing up off of his body, Dai shook his head and wiped the blood off of the blade, putting it down in his hand and shaking his head once more. "You were willing to kill me--I simply gave you back the same. I don't like it, but I will survive. Rest in peace." Turning away, Dai's feet started moving rapidly once more, carrying him towards his bedroom. He needed Alchemy, fast. His hands planted on the drawers, he picked up a glove and a couple of spares, shoving the other two into a pocket and grabbing the cellular device out of the other. Raising it up to his ear, the man quickly dialled the number of a one Reila Tsukino, hoping that she would pick up. Whether or not she did, he would speak. "I just got out of a tussle with a damn Drachman infiltrator, about a hundred feet from my room. I'm going to head to the arms development room and make sure its completely locked up. I might bring some armaments along too. I'll meet you, wherever you are. Keep... keep safe. I'll keep in contact. I... I love you." Biting his bottom lip softly, he hung up the phone and peeled away from his room, heading straight for the armory.
As he arrived in the room, he found that it had not been infiltrated as of yet, which meant that his office was still intact as well. Silently entering into the room, the man made familiar motions to open up the laboratory, traipsed in through the door and picked up about ten strange-looking blocks and a shotgun off of the ground. He didn't have time to bring forth any more armaments and, to be quite honest, this was enough. A SPAS-12, specifically designed to fire antimatter rounds with his Alchemy. There was little he could do in close combat with it, but it also fired off normal ammunition (which explained why he carried so much). Sighing quietly, he slipped it onto his back and walked out of the room, pressing a button as he went past and activating the extra defences. Adding onto the already-reinforced walls, the additional reinforcement would mean that, above all else, Dai's secrets would not be compromised. Tapping on the wall would reveal it to be solid. Walking out of the armory itself, Dai started to head towards the watchtower that he assumed everyone would be at--the best place for looking over the Drachman side of Briggs. Would he make it there? Who knew?
A hand yanked away at the long red hair that fell behind his head, pulling him backwards. Struggling and crying out, the man attempted to turn his gaze to look, but was unable to move far enough around to properly see. A hurried and angered voice shouted at him in Drachman--"Na kaleni, suka." Hm. Maybe if he knew what that said, he would be more scared than he was now--His eyes widened slightly, and the hair was pulled again, dragging him closer and closer into the jaws of the beast. Planting a foot down, the redheaded man tried to keep himself in a stationary position, but knew that nothing would work with ease. Shouting out from the strain, he felt his body being pulled backwards--he would fall down if he wasn't stable enough. Gritting his teeth hard from the pain of his hair being pulled, he tried to struggle and escape, but to no avail. Managing to turn his head enough, the glint of a knife was apparent. "Is this... the end?" He couldn't give up... Reila would... Reila would kill him for dying!
"Good Morning! The weather is at a high -2 with scattered blizzards and a 40% chance of frostbite~" A smirk crossed pained lips. Speak of the angel. She seemed happy enough--was she not aware of the Drachman troops that were now within Briggs itself? His eyes were almost popping out of their sockets now, the man putting every resource he had to trying to escape from the tight grip of the Drachman Commando. The other had ignored the cheerful voice that came through the speakers, and when the tone changed, Dai's heart skipped a beat or two. "In other news, an avalanche is on the horizon. I say: it's about time, what about you guys? Standby where you are. Prepare yourselves discreetly." He grinned. "Hear that, Drachman?" The other did not, but when the sudden blaring of sirens and lights came into the silent world, well...
"TOO SLOW!" The Drachman man hesitated and took fright from the suddenness of the blaring alarms and the confident shout from the Aerugese-Ishvallan. That was all that Daigoro needed, using the sudden moment of hesitation on the part of the attacker to push himself backwards, get around the knife and twist his leg around the Drachman's, pulling out and attempting to trip him. When nothing happened, Dai's fist was found entering the gut of the other, pushing him backwards and trying to get him to release. The knife clattered on the ground near Dai's foot, but the man's other hand didn't let go. Another check of the situation revealed that Dai's attacker was wearing, on his right hand, a hefty amount of combat-class automail. Auto-locking system included. Impressive. Unfortunately, not helpful for Dai, in any way. Clenching his teeth, Dai made another attempt, knocking his attacker to the ground. As he did not let go, Dai felt the entire weight of the man pulling at his head. Pain blasted throughout his entire skull, the man gnashing his teeth wildly. There was only one thing to do. Reaching down in order to pick up the knife, he gripped it tightly in his right hand and closed his eyes. If he went into close-quarters combat while the other had a lock on his hair, there would be no competition. The other would have total control, able to fling Dai as they pleased. Instead, he would remove that control forcibly.
Turning the knife over in his hand, the male swallowed. He'd put a lot of time and effort into it, so to cut it away was such a waste. Closing his eyes, the man took in a deep breath. The pain would go away. Reaching the knife up, he heard shouts of protest coming from the man below him, who, due to their positions, was unable to move either. The knife came across taut hair, and with a quick motion, Daigoro began to cut raggedly through the tightness. With difficulty and a little bit of time, he managed to saw through the locks, feeling a piece of him fall away with every cut. Closing his eyes and swallowing bile backwards, he made the last cut and felt himself pull forwards, not losing momentum and spinning around on his left foot, looking down at the helpless Drachman who was both attempting to unlock his hand and get off of the ground--not an easy task when the ground was somewhat-iced, but a lot easier for a Briggs man. Watching him with almost deadly eyes, Daigoro waited for the Drachman to stand, before pushing off of the ground and lunging straight for him. Something had changed. Something had gone differently. As the hair had fallen...
He gave no quarter, his body would not stop. First, a fist to the side of the face, feeling the flesh fold under his bone. Next, he would jump, raising a leg into the air and bringing it around, clashing with the same place and knocking the man to the side, causing him to stumble. Landing once more, Dai didn't allow for any time to rest, moving to the other side of the Drachman and planting another fist into the gut of the soldier, knocking him back up and onto his feet, stumbling backwards further. Without warning, the foot was slid around backwards and used to push forwards once more, Daigoro keeping low and barging his shoulder into the chest of the Drachman man, feeling his body give way and knocking him to the ground. "You dare... invade us?" Without flinching, Dai's knee was on the chest of the Drachman, and the blade was at his throat. In the light that shone down behind him, the wild-looking, red-haired, red-eyed man would look demonic to this Drachman; so much so that he would begin shouting out cries of prayer to whatever God he believed in. Understanding that one word, Dai sighed and shook his head. "Do what you want. It won't save you now."
The knife was drawn across sharply, severing the throat of the man. Now exposed to air, the blood in his system would quickly cool down, freezing over the neck and suffocating him before causing him to bleed out. Slowly standing up off of his body, Dai shook his head and wiped the blood off of the blade, putting it down in his hand and shaking his head once more. "You were willing to kill me--I simply gave you back the same. I don't like it, but I will survive. Rest in peace." Turning away, Dai's feet started moving rapidly once more, carrying him towards his bedroom. He needed Alchemy, fast. His hands planted on the drawers, he picked up a glove and a couple of spares, shoving the other two into a pocket and grabbing the cellular device out of the other. Raising it up to his ear, the man quickly dialled the number of a one Reila Tsukino, hoping that she would pick up. Whether or not she did, he would speak. "I just got out of a tussle with a damn Drachman infiltrator, about a hundred feet from my room. I'm going to head to the arms development room and make sure its completely locked up. I might bring some armaments along too. I'll meet you, wherever you are. Keep... keep safe. I'll keep in contact. I... I love you." Biting his bottom lip softly, he hung up the phone and peeled away from his room, heading straight for the armory.
As he arrived in the room, he found that it had not been infiltrated as of yet, which meant that his office was still intact as well. Silently entering into the room, the man made familiar motions to open up the laboratory, traipsed in through the door and picked up about ten strange-looking blocks and a shotgun off of the ground. He didn't have time to bring forth any more armaments and, to be quite honest, this was enough. A SPAS-12, specifically designed to fire antimatter rounds with his Alchemy. There was little he could do in close combat with it, but it also fired off normal ammunition (which explained why he carried so much). Sighing quietly, he slipped it onto his back and walked out of the room, pressing a button as he went past and activating the extra defences. Adding onto the already-reinforced walls, the additional reinforcement would mean that, above all else, Dai's secrets would not be compromised. Tapping on the wall would reveal it to be solid. Walking out of the armory itself, Dai started to head towards the watchtower that he assumed everyone would be at--the best place for looking over the Drachman side of Briggs. Would he make it there? Who knew?
Dai- Posts : 1014
Points : 87
WATCHTOWER -> BRIGGS HALLWAY: AYDEN, VALERIA
by Guest Fri Jun 08, 2012 6:00 pm
Ayden's neck snapped towards the source of three sequential noises. Faint but to the most honed of ears, but present and distinct all the same. One he knew too well, one which came in many a variety but spoke volumes of the individual who had caused it, and, more importantly, their intentions: the gunshot. So perfect a symbol crafted of audio, shattering the brooding silence the troops had become so accustomed too, off in Briggs proper.
The noises themselves were too faint to accurately identify the make and model of the weapon in question, but every shot was unique. In its rises, its falls, its duration, tempo, its pitch... just as a symphony was the same, any rhapsody forged of the crack of muzzle flashes and the ting of empty cartridge casings falling upon the floor was clear, and simple on the top, but so definitively complex underneath, and the more you dug, the more appealing and intriguing it became.
A smile arched over the pale assassin's face as muscles all over his body rippled in minute contraction, tightening entirely as a unit, a gloved hand slipping to Typhon's hilt, and another to the bolt upon the frame to draw it back with a steady slide, and a resounding click. Eyes aflame with sheer insanity, Ayden giggled and commented. "There's my call~!"
He vanished into the corridors once more in an instant, bursting back through the watchtower and descending the stairs, heading to where he'd tried to pinpoint the noise's origin. It was a corridor, not too close, but not too far... he cruised through the familiar catwalks and coarse metal walls with ease thanks to their familiarity now; but the distant stench of propellant and shed blood hit his nostrils, the persona of his moonlight occupation overcoming him as the grin arched ever wider upon his face.
A trail of spilt blood trickled down into the corridor proper as he spun around and surveyed the room. Six corpses littered the floor in a trail, each seeping blood, some still smoking from the open exit wounds in the back of two heads. Now, a few more frightened soldiers, garbed in the traditional Briggs uniform, twitched and quivered, cradling standard-issue rifles and looking downrange at the single form who stood there.
Brown hair, slender frame. Pistol cradled in one hand, and her scythe at her side. Pale, silver eyebrows rose in unison above deep cerulean pools as Ayden's eyes locked and recognised the figure near-immediately, from the scythe, the mannerisms, that snarl-grin sitting upon her face. Aggression unparalleled and most intriguing... but familiar all the same. Valeria Diablos. This was an unexpected turn of events, to say the least.
It all clicked at once as he marched through the veritable rivers of blood soaking the floor and seeping ever further, black upon crimson as he continued, letting the shotgun fall, suspended in pendulum motion on a leather strap as two black-clad hands collided with each other in sequence. Slow, steady, near-sarcastic sequence. Clap, clap, clap.
Shots continued to skim her as she stood there, now responsible for the murders of six Briggs personnel. The ornate calligraphy upon the letter he'd so wilfully ignored. Every ounce of foreshadowing, every seductive twist hanging upon her words. Was the protégé act merely that, a ruse to try and get closer, a reasoning for finding Briggs? Or since their first meeting, had circumstances changed too heavily, and had Valeria simply been... opportunistic?
Anger should've coursed through his veins in place of ice-cold blood, but little changed for Ayden - infact, this merely interested him more. He could now duel this woman, who was so interesting, so intriguing; he could duel his own apprentice, the girl who'd taken his words a touch too seriously and proved herself with an infiltration and near-suicidal attack on Briggs itself. "Miss Diablos," The General muttered, cocking his head once more and letting his hands fall to his side as a giggle ruptured forth, splitting that pale, calm expression, and what little sanity the man still possessed. "Good show, good show indeed..."
His grip tightened firmly around the USAS-12 as he pressed the stock into his shoulder, stopping maybe thirty metres from her. "But..." Boots ground to a halt, leaving eerie crimson prints in the metal beneath. "As any writer or composer worth his salt knows..." A smile lit up his face like wildfire. "Every piece..." The first round had been primed and chambered now for hours, but Ayden finally kicked it all into readiness with a simple flick of his fingers, disengaging the safety switch. "...has its finale."
The gas-actuated hydraulic displacement launched the rounds not into Valeria, but exactly where Ayden placed them, twisting and contorting his upper body as he pulled the trigger twice. One above her left shoulder, and one above her right, to even the game a touch. But it was no shell or slug that launched; no, there were high-explosive fragmentation rounds, solid as a rock until they made an impact... and then...
The corridor erupted with orange flames as the rounds collided into the wall, engulfing where Valeria had been standing. The concussive shockwaves released slammed into even Ayden, the assassin gritting his teeth and throwing up an arm to defend himself as he held Typhon at his side with a single hand. But above these clenched jaws, murderous azure flames of sheer insanity flickered in rings around tiny dot-like irises. And those clenched teeth released, and the mouth holding them opened, revealing the deepest and widest of fleshy black voids within, and a cocky, beckoning laughter roaring forwards, a challenge to Valeria, had she survived. It was universal, no matter what language you spoke, or what country you hailed from...
The noises themselves were too faint to accurately identify the make and model of the weapon in question, but every shot was unique. In its rises, its falls, its duration, tempo, its pitch... just as a symphony was the same, any rhapsody forged of the crack of muzzle flashes and the ting of empty cartridge casings falling upon the floor was clear, and simple on the top, but so definitively complex underneath, and the more you dug, the more appealing and intriguing it became.
A smile arched over the pale assassin's face as muscles all over his body rippled in minute contraction, tightening entirely as a unit, a gloved hand slipping to Typhon's hilt, and another to the bolt upon the frame to draw it back with a steady slide, and a resounding click. Eyes aflame with sheer insanity, Ayden giggled and commented. "There's my call~!"
He vanished into the corridors once more in an instant, bursting back through the watchtower and descending the stairs, heading to where he'd tried to pinpoint the noise's origin. It was a corridor, not too close, but not too far... he cruised through the familiar catwalks and coarse metal walls with ease thanks to their familiarity now; but the distant stench of propellant and shed blood hit his nostrils, the persona of his moonlight occupation overcoming him as the grin arched ever wider upon his face.
A trail of spilt blood trickled down into the corridor proper as he spun around and surveyed the room. Six corpses littered the floor in a trail, each seeping blood, some still smoking from the open exit wounds in the back of two heads. Now, a few more frightened soldiers, garbed in the traditional Briggs uniform, twitched and quivered, cradling standard-issue rifles and looking downrange at the single form who stood there.
Brown hair, slender frame. Pistol cradled in one hand, and her scythe at her side. Pale, silver eyebrows rose in unison above deep cerulean pools as Ayden's eyes locked and recognised the figure near-immediately, from the scythe, the mannerisms, that snarl-grin sitting upon her face. Aggression unparalleled and most intriguing... but familiar all the same. Valeria Diablos. This was an unexpected turn of events, to say the least.
It all clicked at once as he marched through the veritable rivers of blood soaking the floor and seeping ever further, black upon crimson as he continued, letting the shotgun fall, suspended in pendulum motion on a leather strap as two black-clad hands collided with each other in sequence. Slow, steady, near-sarcastic sequence. Clap, clap, clap.
Shots continued to skim her as she stood there, now responsible for the murders of six Briggs personnel. The ornate calligraphy upon the letter he'd so wilfully ignored. Every ounce of foreshadowing, every seductive twist hanging upon her words. Was the protégé act merely that, a ruse to try and get closer, a reasoning for finding Briggs? Or since their first meeting, had circumstances changed too heavily, and had Valeria simply been... opportunistic?
Anger should've coursed through his veins in place of ice-cold blood, but little changed for Ayden - infact, this merely interested him more. He could now duel this woman, who was so interesting, so intriguing; he could duel his own apprentice, the girl who'd taken his words a touch too seriously and proved herself with an infiltration and near-suicidal attack on Briggs itself. "Miss Diablos," The General muttered, cocking his head once more and letting his hands fall to his side as a giggle ruptured forth, splitting that pale, calm expression, and what little sanity the man still possessed. "Good show, good show indeed..."
His grip tightened firmly around the USAS-12 as he pressed the stock into his shoulder, stopping maybe thirty metres from her. "But..." Boots ground to a halt, leaving eerie crimson prints in the metal beneath. "As any writer or composer worth his salt knows..." A smile lit up his face like wildfire. "Every piece..." The first round had been primed and chambered now for hours, but Ayden finally kicked it all into readiness with a simple flick of his fingers, disengaging the safety switch. "...has its finale."
The gas-actuated hydraulic displacement launched the rounds not into Valeria, but exactly where Ayden placed them, twisting and contorting his upper body as he pulled the trigger twice. One above her left shoulder, and one above her right, to even the game a touch. But it was no shell or slug that launched; no, there were high-explosive fragmentation rounds, solid as a rock until they made an impact... and then...
BOOOOOM!
The corridor erupted with orange flames as the rounds collided into the wall, engulfing where Valeria had been standing. The concussive shockwaves released slammed into even Ayden, the assassin gritting his teeth and throwing up an arm to defend himself as he held Typhon at his side with a single hand. But above these clenched jaws, murderous azure flames of sheer insanity flickered in rings around tiny dot-like irises. And those clenched teeth released, and the mouth holding them opened, revealing the deepest and widest of fleshy black voids within, and a cocky, beckoning laughter roaring forwards, a challenge to Valeria, had she survived. It was universal, no matter what language you spoke, or what country you hailed from...
"GYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Guest- Guest
Re: MISSION: World War III: Peace and the Pestilence of RIOTE {1}
by Guest Mon Jun 11, 2012 7:10 pm
AIRSPACE ABOVE THE BRIGGS MOUNTAIN RANGE
KUVALDA'S CUSTOMIZED DEPLOYMENT AIRCRAFT
((Kean, Kuvalda NPCs))
The hull of the plan shook minimally through pockets of turbulence in the cover of clouds. The thunderous roar of the twin engines resonated through the dim interior of the plane as only a deep resounding hum-- The only thing to dilute the dense blanket of silence that hung over the shoulders of each of the soldiers aboard the air transport. In the darkness of the interior, everyone's face donned a mask of shadow. The only source of illumination was a red tinted light shining dimly from the ceiling. The interior of the plane was wrapped in somberness and anticipation of what was to come. Their mission was one of risk higher than any other, for they were to stand alone behind enemy lines. The success of the mission rested upon their shoulders, and they knew that. Not a word was uttered among the team of six. Each was steeling themselves for the daunting task ahead. There was little room for mistakes.
The strained silence aboard the aircraft was interrupted suddenly by the crackling of Marynia's voice over the speaker. "We'll be over the drop zone in less than seven minutes. Get your asses in gear and suit up"
Perhaps unable to wait in anxiety any longer, everyone began to equip their suits, equipment, and parachutes rather quickly. Ivanka gripped the sides of a strikingly large and heavy crate, which held all of the weapons and equipment the Kuvalda soldiers would need. With ease, the man slid the cache across the floor and towards the unopened door on the side of the plane. With a second trip, he brought his own personal supply crate that was to be dropped with the first. This one was even heavier than the first and more elongated in shape. It held both of Ivanka's weapons: Titana Gneva, the rocket launcher and Titana Kulak, the sledgehammer. Double checking his parachute backpack and the equipment around his belt and bandoliers, Ivanka glanced around the cramped space at his comrades. Each was shrouded in silence as the suited up and prepared. This would not do. As their leader, it fell upon him to encourage and command them.
"Comrades" Ivanka began, speaking loudly enough for each of them to hear, yet in solemn earnest-- much unlike the impassioned speech given to the army. "I know that the task ahead of us is unlike anything we have ever faced. There is no guarantee that any of us will come back alive." Ivanka lowered his gaze to the floor, eyes hardening, hands clenched into tight fists. "But mark my words, comrades" growled he, with determination. "I will sooner die a thousand deaths before I fail you or my country. The lives and prosperity of our people are at stake, and I do not plan to let them down. Get ready comrades. There will be time to rest when the mission is done."
"Get your asses ready in a minute for the HALO deployment." echoed Marynia over the speaker again. "Oh, and Ivanka. That death and martyrdom speech is nice and all, but come back alive, will ya? I have money pinned on your survival. Besides, if you die, who's going to give me my paycheck?"
Ivanka scoffed at this-- visibly disappointed by his long time friend and comrade's habit for gambling and want for money. But now was not the time to scold his pilot. That could wait until after.
"Ah, Marynia. Play that old song. The one from my record"
A few seconds after a very loud and exaggerated sigh of discontent from the cockpit, the speakers crackled to life with the melody of an old Drachman piano song.
This version was without lyrics, but Ivanka new the words well, for his father and father's friends sung it many a time at communist rallies and drinking gatherings. And so softly he sang to himself as he lowered his HALO jump breath mask onto his face.
"Наш Coветский Союз покоряет весь мир
Как огромный медведь на Востоке.
Овцы бродят безцельно, без всяких забот
А Советский медведь на охоте."
Gripping the handle of the wide plane door, Ivanka slid it open forcefully. They were all immediately greeted by a violent assault of freezing wind and the distant white and gray landscape below them. This was it. With a firm kick, both supply caches were sent hurdling to the ground far below.
"Alright, go go go!" Ivanka shouted over the deafening winds that filled his ears. One by one, each soldier leapt from the plane and flew rapidly below, vanishing through the clouds. After the least man had jumped, Ivanka followed......
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE AMESTRIAN SIDE OF FORT BRIGGS
15 MINUTES AFTER LANDING
((Kean, Kuvalda NPCs. ))
The Amestrian soldier kicked and struggled, suspended above the ground helplessly. Desperately, as he choked and gasped for air, his hands tore frantically at the metal fingers that clenched around his neck, but to no avail. Within a few seconds, his eyes had rolled backwards and his body went limp and heavy. Without so much as a second glance, Ivanka tossed the lifeless body to the side with a heavy thump against the metal floor of the Brigg's wall catwalk. Behind him was Yukov, Reznov, and Kean, waiting patiently for Kuvalda's next move. The mission had begun. Already the had been able to approach the less defended Amestrian side of Briggs discretely without detection-- save for a few guards whom had discovered the intruders all too late, such as the one Ivanka had just disposed of. Mirov was close by, set up on the cliff of one of the mountains that hugged Briggs's side.
Without a word, Ivanka held his hand up in signal for the others to standby. The others held still as their leader approached a door leading to the interior of Briggs by himself. After a moment of examining the steel hinged door, he thrusted his automail hands between the door and the wall, bending and breaking the metal so that he gained enough leverage, and then with a mighty pull, the door was torn out of its place with a loud screech. With a hand motion towards the new opening, Ivanka rushed in, the other three close behind him.
Each went their own way. Reznov and Lean headed off in the opposite direction of Yukov and Ivanka. Surprisingly, they encountered little resistance as they rushed through the icy steel corridors of the enemy base. Had Diablos already initiated the RIOTE distraction? As they made there way towards the main systems control room they quickly shot down the few enemy soldiers they stumbled upon. Their mission wasn't to seek out the enemy afterall, but to disable the defense systems of Briggs. They would never get their in time if they spent too long fighting every soldier Briggs had to offer.
As they made yet another of a dozen turns through the labyrinth, a surprising sight greeted them at the far end of the hall. A firefight had broken out among soldiers clad in the uniform of Briggs. Hiding behind corners and ducking behind furniture, the alleged comrades riddled one another with bullets and bodies littered the floor. Some of them must have been RIOTE's covert agents. Perfect. Then Briggs was in a state of chaos, just as Chaos had said they would be. Once again RIOTE had far exceeded Ivanka's hopes for their assistance of Drachma. There must have been scenes like this all over Briggs. The Briggs soldiers had now way of telling friend from foe, but the RIOTE soldiers did. Only problem was, Ivanka, Yukov and the others did not know the RIOTE agents apart from the Briggs soldiers. But this was not an issue. The real Briggs soldiers would recognize Ivanka and the others, in their foreign uniforms, as enemies. That made things simpler.
"Yukov. Don't fire at the enemy unless they fire at us first. Understand?" said Ivanka softly, as to not draw attention to them.
"Yes commander."
"Which way to the control room?"
"Through the next door on our left and down the 3E corridor, according to my map" muttered the bespectacled soldier, scanning over his PDA-like device which held his information.
"Alright, lets press on. We need to move quickly so the main army can attack"
Ivanka reached for the commlink at his side and spoke into it in a low and hushed voice.
"Mirov. Report."
"I read you comrade. I can see the enemy mobilizing on the roof. They seem to be preparing for our attack. I've also identified several enemy commanders in the Northern watchtower."
The enemy commanders?! Was this true? Then if they could take them out now....
"Do you have a clear shot on any of them, Mirov?" Ivanka breathed heavily into his radio, excited by the opportunity they might have.
"Ermmm. I have a clear line of sight with a few of them, but I cannot be certain that the glass of the windows is reinforced or not. Should I take the shot anyway?"
Ivanka sighed heavily. He did not want to put Mirov in unnecessary danger. But to pass up such an opportunity that could ensure Drachma success....... Ivanka paused in thought.
"Affirmative.....Take a single shot at your easiest target. If the bullet fails to penetrate, I want you to retreat up the mountain and hide yourself again."
"Roger that, Comrade. Over and out"
Even if the shot did not hit, they probably would not be able to pinpoint where it came from. Not with one. Not from so far away. Mirov would be okay.....
Kssshhhhht. The radio cracked to life again. This time the huskier voice of Reznov came through, his voice hushed to just a whisper.
"Commander Kolokovsky. I've been separated from Kean. But I've found a high priority target. Commander Ito, I think it was. The alchemist with the red hair. I'm going to engage. I'll bring you his head."
"Be careful Reznov. Do not give him the chance to use his alchemy. Shoot him and make it quick. Don't mess around. This isn't a glory mission. Over and out."
A chance to eliminate all of the enemy commanders in one fell stroke....or a disaster. How would this end? Ivanka shook his thoughts and pressed onward. They had their mission and he had his. He could not afford to fail. Kicking the door before him with the brute force of his mechanical leg, Ivanka and Yukov rushed into the 3E corridor. Several soldiers were already there. Friend or enemy? They seemed shocked to see Ivanka and Yokov there before them. Perhaps-
"Enemy sighted!"
Ah, enemy. The repetitious percussion of Yukov's rifle already echoed across the hallway as he got the jump on their Amestrian adversaries. The two of them backed up through the door they came in and took cover behind the doorway. Yukov continued to lay down suppressive fire while Ivanka reached for the nearly two metre long cylindrical weapon on his back. One shot was all he would need.
"Yukov, step back" barked Ivanka as he mounted the launcher on his shoulder. Yukov nodded and stepped away from the doorway. Swiftly, Ivanka leaned into the doorway, already looking down his sights. The enemy began to fire, but the few bullets they managed to shoot glanced harmlessly across the large launcher or off Ivanka's automail arms, or embedded themselves harmlessly in the bullet-proof vest beneath his tan trench coat. With a squeeze of the trigger, a rocket soared loudly down the hallway. There was not time to run and not cover to hide behind. The rocket collided with the floor beneath their feet and detonated into an explosion of fire and shards of metal shrapnel.
With little time to waste, Yukov and Ivanka hurried past the charred and dismembered bodies of the enemy and towards the large door at the end of the corridor. Behind that door was their target.
"I'll need time to hack the security panel and get us in" shouted Yukov
"No time."
Gritting his teeth, Ivanka reached for the behemothic on his back. Without losing speed, Ivanka brandished the 800 pound tool and with a tremendous swing, slammed it against the door with a thunderous crash
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
OUTSIDE OF BRIGGS
AMESTRIAN SIDE
ON THE LOWER MOUNTAINSIDE IN VIEW OF THE NORTHERN WATCHTOWER
((Jet Black, Reila Tsukino))
Mirov wiped the sweat off of his brow as he waited. The soldiers on the roof of Briggs scrambled here and there, but it was not they who the sniper watched. Through the scope of his rifle he carefully monitored the window of the watchtower that face him. Inside he had caught glimpses of a few figures he had instantly recognized. Reila Tsukino, Jethro Black, and a few others. They were well known enemy commanders. If he could just take one of them out......
A tall and imposing man with a head of blue hair stepped into his view. Now! Now or never! Mirov lined his sights up with the back of the neck of the man who's back was turned towards the sniper. With a deep breath, he squeezed the trigger.....
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
DEFENSE SYSTEM MAINFRAME CONTROL ROOM OF INNER BRIGGS
THIRD FLOOR, SECTION E
((NPCs, Zabulon, Kean))
The heavy steel door crashed as it feel from its wide frame. It had taken a few swings to knock the thick obstacle down, but a strength capable of lifting 3000 pounds swinging an 800 pound object did the trick. The personnel within the room stared at the pair of intruders in complete shock and disbelief. Not only had they witnessed the shocking event of Brigg's soldiers turning on one another through security cameras, but now Drachma was already on their doorstep. Ivanka and Yukov both raised their rifles and fired into the chests and backs of each and everyone one of the people. All of them crumpled to the floor or slumped forward at their station. These were office and computer workers, not standard infantry. They were never prepared to face the enemy themselves. It did not take long for them to be disposed of. Just as they had rehearsed, the two took them out in strategic order, hitting the ones nearest to any form of emergency or alert button first. This would buy them at least a little time.
"I'm going to hack the system down. Its going to take me a few minutes to shut down everything." said Yukov as he took his equipment out of his bag and hooked it up into one of the main computers. He began typing frantically and fiddling with his tools, doing all sorts of things that Ivanka could hardly guess at. But as long as he got the job done, Ivanka did not need to understand how he did it.
"I understand, comrade. I'll guard the entrance for any enemies. If we're lucky, they won't take notice of us because of RIOTEs agents"
Setting his hammer back on the holster on his back, Ivanka stepped outside of the large room of flashing screens and whirring machines and back into the corridor of burnt corpses, filled with the sound of distant fighting. He would have to make his radio calls now while he had the chance. Snatching his radio off of his belt, he held town the button and spoke into it:
"Commander Goncharovich. Do you copy? We have infiltrated the base. The main defense systems will be down shortly. Send the gunship and advance teams in and prepare the main army to mobilize."
He switched channels to Reznov's. Something was wrong. If he killed that enemy officer than he would have reported and gloated about it by now....
"Reznov......"
No Reply.
"Reznov, come in. Do you read me?"
Nothing.
Ivanka cursed under his breath.
"Kean, come in. Are you there? What happened to Reznov? Are you with him?"
KUVALDA'S CUSTOMIZED DEPLOYMENT AIRCRAFT
((Kean, Kuvalda NPCs))
The hull of the plan shook minimally through pockets of turbulence in the cover of clouds. The thunderous roar of the twin engines resonated through the dim interior of the plane as only a deep resounding hum-- The only thing to dilute the dense blanket of silence that hung over the shoulders of each of the soldiers aboard the air transport. In the darkness of the interior, everyone's face donned a mask of shadow. The only source of illumination was a red tinted light shining dimly from the ceiling. The interior of the plane was wrapped in somberness and anticipation of what was to come. Their mission was one of risk higher than any other, for they were to stand alone behind enemy lines. The success of the mission rested upon their shoulders, and they knew that. Not a word was uttered among the team of six. Each was steeling themselves for the daunting task ahead. There was little room for mistakes.
The strained silence aboard the aircraft was interrupted suddenly by the crackling of Marynia's voice over the speaker. "We'll be over the drop zone in less than seven minutes. Get your asses in gear and suit up"
Perhaps unable to wait in anxiety any longer, everyone began to equip their suits, equipment, and parachutes rather quickly. Ivanka gripped the sides of a strikingly large and heavy crate, which held all of the weapons and equipment the Kuvalda soldiers would need. With ease, the man slid the cache across the floor and towards the unopened door on the side of the plane. With a second trip, he brought his own personal supply crate that was to be dropped with the first. This one was even heavier than the first and more elongated in shape. It held both of Ivanka's weapons: Titana Gneva, the rocket launcher and Titana Kulak, the sledgehammer. Double checking his parachute backpack and the equipment around his belt and bandoliers, Ivanka glanced around the cramped space at his comrades. Each was shrouded in silence as the suited up and prepared. This would not do. As their leader, it fell upon him to encourage and command them.
"Comrades" Ivanka began, speaking loudly enough for each of them to hear, yet in solemn earnest-- much unlike the impassioned speech given to the army. "I know that the task ahead of us is unlike anything we have ever faced. There is no guarantee that any of us will come back alive." Ivanka lowered his gaze to the floor, eyes hardening, hands clenched into tight fists. "But mark my words, comrades" growled he, with determination. "I will sooner die a thousand deaths before I fail you or my country. The lives and prosperity of our people are at stake, and I do not plan to let them down. Get ready comrades. There will be time to rest when the mission is done."
"Get your asses ready in a minute for the HALO deployment." echoed Marynia over the speaker again. "Oh, and Ivanka. That death and martyrdom speech is nice and all, but come back alive, will ya? I have money pinned on your survival. Besides, if you die, who's going to give me my paycheck?"
Ivanka scoffed at this-- visibly disappointed by his long time friend and comrade's habit for gambling and want for money. But now was not the time to scold his pilot. That could wait until after.
"Ah, Marynia. Play that old song. The one from my record"
A few seconds after a very loud and exaggerated sigh of discontent from the cockpit, the speakers crackled to life with the melody of an old Drachman piano song.
This version was without lyrics, but Ivanka new the words well, for his father and father's friends sung it many a time at communist rallies and drinking gatherings. And so softly he sang to himself as he lowered his HALO jump breath mask onto his face.
"Наш Coветский Союз покоряет весь мир
Как огромный медведь на Востоке.
Овцы бродят безцельно, без всяких забот
А Советский медведь на охоте."
Gripping the handle of the wide plane door, Ivanka slid it open forcefully. They were all immediately greeted by a violent assault of freezing wind and the distant white and gray landscape below them. This was it. With a firm kick, both supply caches were sent hurdling to the ground far below.
"Alright, go go go!" Ivanka shouted over the deafening winds that filled his ears. One by one, each soldier leapt from the plane and flew rapidly below, vanishing through the clouds. After the least man had jumped, Ivanka followed......
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE AMESTRIAN SIDE OF FORT BRIGGS
15 MINUTES AFTER LANDING
((Kean, Kuvalda NPCs. ))
The Amestrian soldier kicked and struggled, suspended above the ground helplessly. Desperately, as he choked and gasped for air, his hands tore frantically at the metal fingers that clenched around his neck, but to no avail. Within a few seconds, his eyes had rolled backwards and his body went limp and heavy. Without so much as a second glance, Ivanka tossed the lifeless body to the side with a heavy thump against the metal floor of the Brigg's wall catwalk. Behind him was Yukov, Reznov, and Kean, waiting patiently for Kuvalda's next move. The mission had begun. Already the had been able to approach the less defended Amestrian side of Briggs discretely without detection-- save for a few guards whom had discovered the intruders all too late, such as the one Ivanka had just disposed of. Mirov was close by, set up on the cliff of one of the mountains that hugged Briggs's side.
Without a word, Ivanka held his hand up in signal for the others to standby. The others held still as their leader approached a door leading to the interior of Briggs by himself. After a moment of examining the steel hinged door, he thrusted his automail hands between the door and the wall, bending and breaking the metal so that he gained enough leverage, and then with a mighty pull, the door was torn out of its place with a loud screech. With a hand motion towards the new opening, Ivanka rushed in, the other three close behind him.
Each went their own way. Reznov and Lean headed off in the opposite direction of Yukov and Ivanka. Surprisingly, they encountered little resistance as they rushed through the icy steel corridors of the enemy base. Had Diablos already initiated the RIOTE distraction? As they made there way towards the main systems control room they quickly shot down the few enemy soldiers they stumbled upon. Their mission wasn't to seek out the enemy afterall, but to disable the defense systems of Briggs. They would never get their in time if they spent too long fighting every soldier Briggs had to offer.
As they made yet another of a dozen turns through the labyrinth, a surprising sight greeted them at the far end of the hall. A firefight had broken out among soldiers clad in the uniform of Briggs. Hiding behind corners and ducking behind furniture, the alleged comrades riddled one another with bullets and bodies littered the floor. Some of them must have been RIOTE's covert agents. Perfect. Then Briggs was in a state of chaos, just as Chaos had said they would be. Once again RIOTE had far exceeded Ivanka's hopes for their assistance of Drachma. There must have been scenes like this all over Briggs. The Briggs soldiers had now way of telling friend from foe, but the RIOTE soldiers did. Only problem was, Ivanka, Yukov and the others did not know the RIOTE agents apart from the Briggs soldiers. But this was not an issue. The real Briggs soldiers would recognize Ivanka and the others, in their foreign uniforms, as enemies. That made things simpler.
"Yukov. Don't fire at the enemy unless they fire at us first. Understand?" said Ivanka softly, as to not draw attention to them.
"Yes commander."
"Which way to the control room?"
"Through the next door on our left and down the 3E corridor, according to my map" muttered the bespectacled soldier, scanning over his PDA-like device which held his information.
"Alright, lets press on. We need to move quickly so the main army can attack"
Ivanka reached for the commlink at his side and spoke into it in a low and hushed voice.
"Mirov. Report."
"I read you comrade. I can see the enemy mobilizing on the roof. They seem to be preparing for our attack. I've also identified several enemy commanders in the Northern watchtower."
The enemy commanders?! Was this true? Then if they could take them out now....
"Do you have a clear shot on any of them, Mirov?" Ivanka breathed heavily into his radio, excited by the opportunity they might have.
"Ermmm. I have a clear line of sight with a few of them, but I cannot be certain that the glass of the windows is reinforced or not. Should I take the shot anyway?"
Ivanka sighed heavily. He did not want to put Mirov in unnecessary danger. But to pass up such an opportunity that could ensure Drachma success....... Ivanka paused in thought.
"Affirmative.....Take a single shot at your easiest target. If the bullet fails to penetrate, I want you to retreat up the mountain and hide yourself again."
"Roger that, Comrade. Over and out"
Even if the shot did not hit, they probably would not be able to pinpoint where it came from. Not with one. Not from so far away. Mirov would be okay.....
Kssshhhhht. The radio cracked to life again. This time the huskier voice of Reznov came through, his voice hushed to just a whisper.
"Commander Kolokovsky. I've been separated from Kean. But I've found a high priority target. Commander Ito, I think it was. The alchemist with the red hair. I'm going to engage. I'll bring you his head."
"Be careful Reznov. Do not give him the chance to use his alchemy. Shoot him and make it quick. Don't mess around. This isn't a glory mission. Over and out."
A chance to eliminate all of the enemy commanders in one fell stroke....or a disaster. How would this end? Ivanka shook his thoughts and pressed onward. They had their mission and he had his. He could not afford to fail. Kicking the door before him with the brute force of his mechanical leg, Ivanka and Yukov rushed into the 3E corridor. Several soldiers were already there. Friend or enemy? They seemed shocked to see Ivanka and Yokov there before them. Perhaps-
"Enemy sighted!"
Ah, enemy. The repetitious percussion of Yukov's rifle already echoed across the hallway as he got the jump on their Amestrian adversaries. The two of them backed up through the door they came in and took cover behind the doorway. Yukov continued to lay down suppressive fire while Ivanka reached for the nearly two metre long cylindrical weapon on his back. One shot was all he would need.
"Yukov, step back" barked Ivanka as he mounted the launcher on his shoulder. Yukov nodded and stepped away from the doorway. Swiftly, Ivanka leaned into the doorway, already looking down his sights. The enemy began to fire, but the few bullets they managed to shoot glanced harmlessly across the large launcher or off Ivanka's automail arms, or embedded themselves harmlessly in the bullet-proof vest beneath his tan trench coat. With a squeeze of the trigger, a rocket soared loudly down the hallway. There was not time to run and not cover to hide behind. The rocket collided with the floor beneath their feet and detonated into an explosion of fire and shards of metal shrapnel.
With little time to waste, Yukov and Ivanka hurried past the charred and dismembered bodies of the enemy and towards the large door at the end of the corridor. Behind that door was their target.
"I'll need time to hack the security panel and get us in" shouted Yukov
"No time."
Gritting his teeth, Ivanka reached for the behemothic on his back. Without losing speed, Ivanka brandished the 800 pound tool and with a tremendous swing, slammed it against the door with a thunderous crash
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
OUTSIDE OF BRIGGS
AMESTRIAN SIDE
ON THE LOWER MOUNTAINSIDE IN VIEW OF THE NORTHERN WATCHTOWER
((Jet Black, Reila Tsukino))
Mirov wiped the sweat off of his brow as he waited. The soldiers on the roof of Briggs scrambled here and there, but it was not they who the sniper watched. Through the scope of his rifle he carefully monitored the window of the watchtower that face him. Inside he had caught glimpses of a few figures he had instantly recognized. Reila Tsukino, Jethro Black, and a few others. They were well known enemy commanders. If he could just take one of them out......
A tall and imposing man with a head of blue hair stepped into his view. Now! Now or never! Mirov lined his sights up with the back of the neck of the man who's back was turned towards the sniper. With a deep breath, he squeezed the trigger.....
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
DEFENSE SYSTEM MAINFRAME CONTROL ROOM OF INNER BRIGGS
THIRD FLOOR, SECTION E
((NPCs, Zabulon, Kean))
The heavy steel door crashed as it feel from its wide frame. It had taken a few swings to knock the thick obstacle down, but a strength capable of lifting 3000 pounds swinging an 800 pound object did the trick. The personnel within the room stared at the pair of intruders in complete shock and disbelief. Not only had they witnessed the shocking event of Brigg's soldiers turning on one another through security cameras, but now Drachma was already on their doorstep. Ivanka and Yukov both raised their rifles and fired into the chests and backs of each and everyone one of the people. All of them crumpled to the floor or slumped forward at their station. These were office and computer workers, not standard infantry. They were never prepared to face the enemy themselves. It did not take long for them to be disposed of. Just as they had rehearsed, the two took them out in strategic order, hitting the ones nearest to any form of emergency or alert button first. This would buy them at least a little time.
"I'm going to hack the system down. Its going to take me a few minutes to shut down everything." said Yukov as he took his equipment out of his bag and hooked it up into one of the main computers. He began typing frantically and fiddling with his tools, doing all sorts of things that Ivanka could hardly guess at. But as long as he got the job done, Ivanka did not need to understand how he did it.
"I understand, comrade. I'll guard the entrance for any enemies. If we're lucky, they won't take notice of us because of RIOTEs agents"
Setting his hammer back on the holster on his back, Ivanka stepped outside of the large room of flashing screens and whirring machines and back into the corridor of burnt corpses, filled with the sound of distant fighting. He would have to make his radio calls now while he had the chance. Snatching his radio off of his belt, he held town the button and spoke into it:
"Commander Goncharovich. Do you copy? We have infiltrated the base. The main defense systems will be down shortly. Send the gunship and advance teams in and prepare the main army to mobilize."
He switched channels to Reznov's. Something was wrong. If he killed that enemy officer than he would have reported and gloated about it by now....
"Reznov......"
No Reply.
"Reznov, come in. Do you read me?"
Nothing.
Ivanka cursed under his breath.
"Kean, come in. Are you there? What happened to Reznov? Are you with him?"
Guest- Guest
Outskirts of Briggs; REZNOV(NPC), IVANKA, DAI
by Guest Mon Jun 11, 2012 8:09 pm
Aaaaand there. The last of his share of bombs had been set. It had taken a bit, but they were there, in place, ready to blow at Ivanka's beck and call. The best part was, only Kean had the means to detonate them, or neutralize them, short of forcibly removing the explosive charges by hand. This was one of Drachma's finest technological achievements, as far as Kuvalda's weapnry went; next to Ivanka's cybernetics and Zinaida's Berserker, the Vraczun Ba-Bombas were the most powerful of Kuvalda's stuff, if only because they were virtually impossible to disarm without direct contact, which would involve locating each charge, about twenty of them, then taking the time to disarm each device by hand, which, in itself, was tricky; these bombs were not normal, in that their fuse essentially didn't exist; only Kean's alchemy could ignite them, and it did so without lighting a fuse or triggering a chemical reaction as the fuse, rather, it blitzed the explosives with photons to superheat the explosive material, which combusted it. So simple a child could do it, but unusual enough to puzzle all but the finest of Briggs' alchemical specialists.
And then, of course, Reznov had normal bombs. Because normal bombs were normally used normally. For normal reasons. Speaking of Reznov, Kean hadn't heard from him in a while...
Soon he recieved a message from one Ivanka, and decided to check it out. Reznov couldn't have gone far, could he? Kean spoke into the radio. "Rezzy? Hellooooo? Rezzy, where are you? Are you okay? Talk to me! Reznov! Are you there? SAY SOMETHING!!" Hmm... He was either giving Kean the silent treatment, or something was awfully wrong. So Kean headed to his last known position and from there, he saw quite the sight; Reznov was dead, and standing there was a red haired soldier of Briggs; Kean hid in the shadows, watching through curious violet orbs, putting Reznov's death out of mind for a moment. Who was this guy? Why did he look all important and stuff? Well... He SEEMED important, to Kean anyways.
Opening the com-link to Ivanka, he whispered into it, still watching the man, "Man down, Ivanka. Some red-head man cut Rezzy's throat. Bombs are all in place, though, so I'll retrieve Rezzy's detonater and keep an eye on the man until I can attack him properly. All I need is a clean shot in good sunlight..." So as the man left, Kean stalked after him, keeping constantly in shade. It was easy for him; like a predator stalking its prey. Taking a brief stop to take from Reznov's corpse the detonater and a knife, he continued his quest, following the man to a building, where the man came back out with a really big gun. Hmm... Well, he was keeping his distance best he could, of course, and he had a good shot... He took the initiative. Raising his hands up, his watches, full, fueled his alchemy, allowing him to bypass his usual two minute charging period. A blast of photons erupted from the intersection of his outstretched palms, the circles on his watches completed, as the energy surge basted right by the red-head, slightly singing his hair, but causing no damage, as Kean had missed his mark by a bit. Instead, the photons hit a large stone in front of the man, shattering a bit of the stone, and melting that which the photons directly struck.
"Why did you kill Reznov? He was just doing his job. We were going to get ice cream after all this stuff! Not fair!"
And then, of course, Reznov had normal bombs. Because normal bombs were normally used normally. For normal reasons. Speaking of Reznov, Kean hadn't heard from him in a while...
Soon he recieved a message from one Ivanka, and decided to check it out. Reznov couldn't have gone far, could he? Kean spoke into the radio. "Rezzy? Hellooooo? Rezzy, where are you? Are you okay? Talk to me! Reznov! Are you there? SAY SOMETHING!!" Hmm... He was either giving Kean the silent treatment, or something was awfully wrong. So Kean headed to his last known position and from there, he saw quite the sight; Reznov was dead, and standing there was a red haired soldier of Briggs; Kean hid in the shadows, watching through curious violet orbs, putting Reznov's death out of mind for a moment. Who was this guy? Why did he look all important and stuff? Well... He SEEMED important, to Kean anyways.
Opening the com-link to Ivanka, he whispered into it, still watching the man, "Man down, Ivanka. Some red-head man cut Rezzy's throat. Bombs are all in place, though, so I'll retrieve Rezzy's detonater and keep an eye on the man until I can attack him properly. All I need is a clean shot in good sunlight..." So as the man left, Kean stalked after him, keeping constantly in shade. It was easy for him; like a predator stalking its prey. Taking a brief stop to take from Reznov's corpse the detonater and a knife, he continued his quest, following the man to a building, where the man came back out with a really big gun. Hmm... Well, he was keeping his distance best he could, of course, and he had a good shot... He took the initiative. Raising his hands up, his watches, full, fueled his alchemy, allowing him to bypass his usual two minute charging period. A blast of photons erupted from the intersection of his outstretched palms, the circles on his watches completed, as the energy surge basted right by the red-head, slightly singing his hair, but causing no damage, as Kean had missed his mark by a bit. Instead, the photons hit a large stone in front of the man, shattering a bit of the stone, and melting that which the photons directly struck.
"Why did you kill Reznov? He was just doing his job. We were going to get ice cream after all this stuff! Not fair!"
Guest- Guest
Somewhere within Fort Briggs --->Ayden
by Emmelin Thu Jun 28, 2012 10:08 am
Blood trailed her path, though it was all her plan. A game with her teacher. It was all worth it. Would she die against him? It was possible. However, death was nothing to her. Everything that mattered was her amusement. A slash here and a streak of red was all she needed to make herself happy. A thrill made her day. Death was compared only to ultimate bliss when she made her wiles on the battle field. Her dance that left her bloodied. Ruined clothes, oh well. There was nothing further she could do to fix that, but her lust was far from finished. A moment she had stood silent as footsteps finally stopped in her head. A slow and precise movement of a man not afraid. What was this? A man not afraid of the Archangel? This was blasphemy!
Clapping hit her ears in a way short of insulting. A quick movement made her body whip to stare daggers at the man until. Ayden. Her heart skipped a beat. Such excitement, such irrefutable pleasure that flooded her veins. This man she adored was here. Though the terms were not favorable, Valeria was experiencing complete ecstasy to the fact the man was before her. Her idol, her obsession. Of course it was a bit creepy, but she never saw it as such. Simply, she wanted more of his being around, even if it was negative attention. Like a neglected child, she desired and longed for the slightest of touch of acknowledgement from the man before her. His eyes upon her, a sadistic smile. Pain ensued.
The clapping ceased and he reached for a gun. The weapon readied for her. "Miss Diablos. Good show, good show, indeed. But as any writer or composer worth his salt knows, every piece has its finale." Dramatic pauses made his monologue worth sitting through. Had it been any other man in the world Val wouldn't have waited to initiate any actions. However, being it was Ayden, her obsession, she was ready and willing. His shotgun raised and pointed towards her, Val braced herself. Her legs moved before she could think. She ducked, down low moving to the side, swiftly ducking to one side o the corridor and diving into the wall. Or rather, a hole in the wall. The small incision, close enough to allow her vanishing act, but not without injury. Shrapnel had ripped up her uniform in the second she wasn't moved away from the hole. A bit of blood, a burning that licked at her whole body, yet she was alive as it nearly knocked her off of her feet.
With her legs causing her to sprint as best she could braced her scythe and swiftly used it as a climbing tool. Latching the blade on a windowsill, she sat down as the explosion dulled to a small hum. Small tremors shook through the air. Her body quivered from his laughter. Enticing, arousing, waking more of her beast and yet, she acted as if she were un-afflicted. Casually sitting upon the window's empty remains. Though her face and body was in an obvious disarray, she couldn't help but continue to act cocky. Gripping one of her pistols (having tucked it in her uniform when she prepared herself) she aimed it lazily at the man. A bullet for his shoulder, or so she hoped. A soft grin on her face.
"A play is only over when each actor plays his part. My show has just began, dear Master." She spoke with a flirtatious hint she often used. The gun was emptying rather swiftly, two more bullets shot, towards his feet. Perhaps she sought to insult him, not aiming to kill. She simply played with him, as if he didn't scare her. Of course, he did. He terrified her and she loved it. The way her heart beat as he spoke coldly, the way he tried to mercilessly blow her away. Pain was raking her body already, spread little scratches all over her, while her arm leg was burning beneath the boot. She grinned a bit before anticipating his next move. Another explosion perhaps? She was ready for that. A silent giggle from her playful lips.
Clapping hit her ears in a way short of insulting. A quick movement made her body whip to stare daggers at the man until. Ayden. Her heart skipped a beat. Such excitement, such irrefutable pleasure that flooded her veins. This man she adored was here. Though the terms were not favorable, Valeria was experiencing complete ecstasy to the fact the man was before her. Her idol, her obsession. Of course it was a bit creepy, but she never saw it as such. Simply, she wanted more of his being around, even if it was negative attention. Like a neglected child, she desired and longed for the slightest of touch of acknowledgement from the man before her. His eyes upon her, a sadistic smile. Pain ensued.
The clapping ceased and he reached for a gun. The weapon readied for her. "Miss Diablos. Good show, good show, indeed. But as any writer or composer worth his salt knows, every piece has its finale." Dramatic pauses made his monologue worth sitting through. Had it been any other man in the world Val wouldn't have waited to initiate any actions. However, being it was Ayden, her obsession, she was ready and willing. His shotgun raised and pointed towards her, Val braced herself. Her legs moved before she could think. She ducked, down low moving to the side, swiftly ducking to one side o the corridor and diving into the wall. Or rather, a hole in the wall. The small incision, close enough to allow her vanishing act, but not without injury. Shrapnel had ripped up her uniform in the second she wasn't moved away from the hole. A bit of blood, a burning that licked at her whole body, yet she was alive as it nearly knocked her off of her feet.
With her legs causing her to sprint as best she could braced her scythe and swiftly used it as a climbing tool. Latching the blade on a windowsill, she sat down as the explosion dulled to a small hum. Small tremors shook through the air. Her body quivered from his laughter. Enticing, arousing, waking more of her beast and yet, she acted as if she were un-afflicted. Casually sitting upon the window's empty remains. Though her face and body was in an obvious disarray, she couldn't help but continue to act cocky. Gripping one of her pistols (having tucked it in her uniform when she prepared herself) she aimed it lazily at the man. A bullet for his shoulder, or so she hoped. A soft grin on her face.
"A play is only over when each actor plays his part. My show has just began, dear Master." She spoke with a flirtatious hint she often used. The gun was emptying rather swiftly, two more bullets shot, towards his feet. Perhaps she sought to insult him, not aiming to kill. She simply played with him, as if he didn't scare her. Of course, he did. He terrified her and she loved it. The way her heart beat as he spoke coldly, the way he tried to mercilessly blow her away. Pain was raking her body already, spread little scratches all over her, while her arm leg was burning beneath the boot. She grinned a bit before anticipating his next move. Another explosion perhaps? She was ready for that. A silent giggle from her playful lips.
Emmelin- PICTURE PERFECT
- Posts : 295
Points : 345
-Case File-
Level: 1
Rank: ?
Writer: Ammy
FORT BRIGGS; CORRIDOR: VALERIA
by Guest Thu Jun 28, 2012 9:34 pm
"A play is only over when each actor plays his part. My show has just began, dear Master." She was bleeding. Her dodging his handiwork had come at a cost of her own blood shed; Ayden smirked, and she spun to aim her pistol, cocked, loaded, primed, and entirely ready to fire. But would she pull the trigger?
"Go on," He goaded, his voice chiming along tauntingly. "Shoot. Kill. End me, finish it all," A pause, and then the symphonious trills of Ayden's voice resounded back through the halls of Briggs once more. "ADD FURTHER TO THIS ORCHESTRA OF CARNAGE YOUR FILTHY DRACHMAN ALLIES HAVE SO BRUTISHLY CREATED~! BAHAHAHAH!"
And so she did. A single trigger pull and the corridor exploded with a crack. The bullet carved through air but an inch above his shoulder, leaving a trail of heat searing over his leather. Even so, the coat wasn't even grazed or marred; let alone his shoulder. Two cerulean eyes widened ever further as the grin stretched further into a maniacal curve splitting his face. "You missed," He whispered.
The next two shots were bound for his legs, but, alas, Valeria was nowhere near as proficient with her pistol as she was with that oh-so-beautifully carved and bloodied scythe of hers. Crack. Crack. Ayden shrunk down in a split-second's reaction, a plan clicking into motion, contorting his body; not away from the bullets' paths, but instead towards them.
They slammed into him, straight off, and thrusted the wind out of him like a punch. It had been too long since Ayden had felt pain like this. The makeshift stitching of the ugly, paled scar tissue at his thigh contorted and hummed with a gentle, burning agony as the assassin felt the bullets dig into what should have been his gut.
Standing up back to full frame, only the echoes of the rounds being launched still hung upon the air with their last, final whines. Haggard pants filled the air as Ayden's azure eyes locked to the ground and widened in mania. "...well done on your final examination," He spat after a moment's silence that felt like a century. No blood had yet been shed, though the rounds had clearly carved through his jacket, weaving two ragged holes in black leather.
The silver-haired murderer slung the weapon back around to his posterior, letting it hang there once more. Things were getting personal. He'd already judged and analysed the distance in perfect and complete detail, and now his right hand flicked to his waist at the left side. Leather-clad fingers brushed over black fibreglass of a blade's hilt as Ayden's other hand gingerly brushed the 'wounds'.
Two impact points, each concave and flattened inwards into a crater of its own. "A for effort..." His fingers, as lithe and elegant as they were destructive, slithered through the torn fabric and grasped the end of the mushroomed, bent round, and rose it up to eye level before tossing it at Valeria's feet. He snapped his head upwards and cocked it to the side. "But only a D for attainment," Somehow, he made some demented, insane tutting noise as his that crazed, bewildered stare, affixed on Valeria, flooded with further conviction. He dug for the other bullet, and pulled that out, too, before reaching to his shoulder and removing several well-hidden clips. Then, the same process on the opposite side, before he reached beneath the jacket, tugged a few times, and then produced his ace in the hole.
A bulletproof vest. It glimmered in Briggs' pale light as the sun's rays washed over it through the nearby window and cracks and crags in the ancient walls bearing minuscule signs of wear. It was forged of what appeared to be the purest metal; a chromed, silver sheen, and perfectly shapen, not a single edge jagged or badly forged. And the strength in tandem with that meant only one thing: a product of alchemy. Ayden tossed it to the side with a snarl, and let his frame rest easy again. Of course, the armour was helpful in proving a point; but it was uncomfortable, to say the least.
"You've betrayed me," He spoke simply, stepping forwards with every word, solid, impending, and ominous clap sounds resonating through the corridor's length, width, and breadth. "My integrity, my honour, and my code as an assassin," The second hand lowered to his other side to grasp the opposing tanto with a snarl. "I was wrong to take you on as a student." A crooked, wicked grin. He'd put her down before he, well, put her down. "You've already learnt too much from the meagre allowance of books and notes, and you already know of my crimson symphony," That was one way of putting it.
"You're not fit to be an apprentice or protégé of mine any more, Valeria Diablos," He hissed the name with fire upon his tongue as if it were the poisoned tail of a serpent. "Your days studying beneath my glorious tuition have sadly, come to an end," Shing. He drew both blades in a single movement, with a flourish, holding them out equidistant at his side as he advanced forwards. Clap. Clap. Clap. "You have learnt from nothing less than the best," Modesty wasn't one of Ayden's strong points. "And out of respect for what you once were, and had the potential to become, I shall give you one chance to leave before I truly show you..."
He paused for a moment, frozen in mid-step, as if he were pondering his sentence choice, when, in reality, it was already well complete in the assassin's mind. A vicious snarl and a terrible smile lit up his giddy face as it contorted, aflame with the pale macabre light of the assassin. "Before I truly show you..." He repeated, the smile only curving further along his face, carving it into two sickly halves. "...what it means... to fear."
Ayden clutched both blades and twirled them about his wrists with that uncanny smile, that skill carving through the air as if he knew how to joint and quarter it in a simple, single movement. As if his precision could shear the bonds between oxygen atoms themselves apart with a single slash. Light danced across the moonlight slivers of the Fangs of Deliverance. Blood had been shed upon them, and whilst every kill made had faded from the blades' visage as Ayden washed it; they had never faded from the pair's glory.
Two hands outstretched as if the tanto were extensions to his very arms. They drew exactly where he'd expected the points to lie; barely inches from the exposed flesh of Valeria's throat. "If you want to fight, then that's your choice," He explained with false, mock sorrow upon his tones. "I'd love to do battle, but, dear student, this is where we part," Another pause. "Your results can be spelt here, today, in blood..." Wicked, dangerous things flashed in those eyes. "...or ink."
"Put simply..." A sigh. "You're going to leave my study..." His eyes snapped upwards to match hers, deepest blues matching with those devilish purple-brown. She was an imp, a familiar, only capable of fathoming petty violence whilst he had master plans, schemes, and gambits in mind. She was an imp and he the Devil himself. She wasn't even close to his league. He was one step ahead, and she was three behind; half of him was just wondering if that chess match was a fluke. She was instinct: he was intelligence. "Whether you want to, or not."
In her, the one cardinal error of his ways was epitomised. "So, my 'student'..." She had let emotion seep into it. And whilst he too was guilty of taking pleasure in his work, he sensed that there was something raw burning deep inside her. He was a professional below all the over-the-top facades, true, grit, down-to-earth professional. "I guess that just about covers it..." All this in mind, Ayden found himself with the first true, deep-seated, well-rooted regret he'd felt in years burning deep in the cavities of his chest, situated just where his heart should have been. Her. And that's when he knew it, telling himself over and over again that it had all been a mistake.
"Class..." Delicately, his eyes swept her form once more. She was just as beautiful, just as slender, and just as powerful as she had been the first time they'd met. She was probably running a gambit of her own; but compared to his, it was nothing but peanuts, negligible beneath A.X.N. Derocha's masterful, bloody symphonies of life, death, and the split-second of his decision, the flash of his blade, the tug of the trigger, that came between. "...dismissed."
"Go on," He goaded, his voice chiming along tauntingly. "Shoot. Kill. End me, finish it all," A pause, and then the symphonious trills of Ayden's voice resounded back through the halls of Briggs once more. "ADD FURTHER TO THIS ORCHESTRA OF CARNAGE YOUR FILTHY DRACHMAN ALLIES HAVE SO BRUTISHLY CREATED~! BAHAHAHAH!"
And so she did. A single trigger pull and the corridor exploded with a crack. The bullet carved through air but an inch above his shoulder, leaving a trail of heat searing over his leather. Even so, the coat wasn't even grazed or marred; let alone his shoulder. Two cerulean eyes widened ever further as the grin stretched further into a maniacal curve splitting his face. "You missed," He whispered.
The next two shots were bound for his legs, but, alas, Valeria was nowhere near as proficient with her pistol as she was with that oh-so-beautifully carved and bloodied scythe of hers. Crack. Crack. Ayden shrunk down in a split-second's reaction, a plan clicking into motion, contorting his body; not away from the bullets' paths, but instead towards them.
They slammed into him, straight off, and thrusted the wind out of him like a punch. It had been too long since Ayden had felt pain like this. The makeshift stitching of the ugly, paled scar tissue at his thigh contorted and hummed with a gentle, burning agony as the assassin felt the bullets dig into what should have been his gut.
Standing up back to full frame, only the echoes of the rounds being launched still hung upon the air with their last, final whines. Haggard pants filled the air as Ayden's azure eyes locked to the ground and widened in mania. "...well done on your final examination," He spat after a moment's silence that felt like a century. No blood had yet been shed, though the rounds had clearly carved through his jacket, weaving two ragged holes in black leather.
The silver-haired murderer slung the weapon back around to his posterior, letting it hang there once more. Things were getting personal. He'd already judged and analysed the distance in perfect and complete detail, and now his right hand flicked to his waist at the left side. Leather-clad fingers brushed over black fibreglass of a blade's hilt as Ayden's other hand gingerly brushed the 'wounds'.
Two impact points, each concave and flattened inwards into a crater of its own. "A for effort..." His fingers, as lithe and elegant as they were destructive, slithered through the torn fabric and grasped the end of the mushroomed, bent round, and rose it up to eye level before tossing it at Valeria's feet. He snapped his head upwards and cocked it to the side. "But only a D for attainment," Somehow, he made some demented, insane tutting noise as his that crazed, bewildered stare, affixed on Valeria, flooded with further conviction. He dug for the other bullet, and pulled that out, too, before reaching to his shoulder and removing several well-hidden clips. Then, the same process on the opposite side, before he reached beneath the jacket, tugged a few times, and then produced his ace in the hole.
A bulletproof vest. It glimmered in Briggs' pale light as the sun's rays washed over it through the nearby window and cracks and crags in the ancient walls bearing minuscule signs of wear. It was forged of what appeared to be the purest metal; a chromed, silver sheen, and perfectly shapen, not a single edge jagged or badly forged. And the strength in tandem with that meant only one thing: a product of alchemy. Ayden tossed it to the side with a snarl, and let his frame rest easy again. Of course, the armour was helpful in proving a point; but it was uncomfortable, to say the least.
"You've betrayed me," He spoke simply, stepping forwards with every word, solid, impending, and ominous clap sounds resonating through the corridor's length, width, and breadth. "My integrity, my honour, and my code as an assassin," The second hand lowered to his other side to grasp the opposing tanto with a snarl. "I was wrong to take you on as a student." A crooked, wicked grin. He'd put her down before he, well, put her down. "You've already learnt too much from the meagre allowance of books and notes, and you already know of my crimson symphony," That was one way of putting it.
"You're not fit to be an apprentice or protégé of mine any more, Valeria Diablos," He hissed the name with fire upon his tongue as if it were the poisoned tail of a serpent. "Your days studying beneath my glorious tuition have sadly, come to an end," Shing. He drew both blades in a single movement, with a flourish, holding them out equidistant at his side as he advanced forwards. Clap. Clap. Clap. "You have learnt from nothing less than the best," Modesty wasn't one of Ayden's strong points. "And out of respect for what you once were, and had the potential to become, I shall give you one chance to leave before I truly show you..."
He paused for a moment, frozen in mid-step, as if he were pondering his sentence choice, when, in reality, it was already well complete in the assassin's mind. A vicious snarl and a terrible smile lit up his giddy face as it contorted, aflame with the pale macabre light of the assassin. "Before I truly show you..." He repeated, the smile only curving further along his face, carving it into two sickly halves. "...what it means... to fear."
Ayden clutched both blades and twirled them about his wrists with that uncanny smile, that skill carving through the air as if he knew how to joint and quarter it in a simple, single movement. As if his precision could shear the bonds between oxygen atoms themselves apart with a single slash. Light danced across the moonlight slivers of the Fangs of Deliverance. Blood had been shed upon them, and whilst every kill made had faded from the blades' visage as Ayden washed it; they had never faded from the pair's glory.
Two hands outstretched as if the tanto were extensions to his very arms. They drew exactly where he'd expected the points to lie; barely inches from the exposed flesh of Valeria's throat. "If you want to fight, then that's your choice," He explained with false, mock sorrow upon his tones. "I'd love to do battle, but, dear student, this is where we part," Another pause. "Your results can be spelt here, today, in blood..." Wicked, dangerous things flashed in those eyes. "...or ink."
"Put simply..." A sigh. "You're going to leave my study..." His eyes snapped upwards to match hers, deepest blues matching with those devilish purple-brown. She was an imp, a familiar, only capable of fathoming petty violence whilst he had master plans, schemes, and gambits in mind. She was an imp and he the Devil himself. She wasn't even close to his league. He was one step ahead, and she was three behind; half of him was just wondering if that chess match was a fluke. She was instinct: he was intelligence. "Whether you want to, or not."
In her, the one cardinal error of his ways was epitomised. "So, my 'student'..." She had let emotion seep into it. And whilst he too was guilty of taking pleasure in his work, he sensed that there was something raw burning deep inside her. He was a professional below all the over-the-top facades, true, grit, down-to-earth professional. "I guess that just about covers it..." All this in mind, Ayden found himself with the first true, deep-seated, well-rooted regret he'd felt in years burning deep in the cavities of his chest, situated just where his heart should have been. Her. And that's when he knew it, telling himself over and over again that it had all been a mistake.
He never should have taken an apprentice in the first place.
"Class..." Delicately, his eyes swept her form once more. She was just as beautiful, just as slender, and just as powerful as she had been the first time they'd met. She was probably running a gambit of her own; but compared to his, it was nothing but peanuts, negligible beneath A.X.N. Derocha's masterful, bloody symphonies of life, death, and the split-second of his decision, the flash of his blade, the tug of the trigger, that came between. "...dismissed."
Guest- Guest
Re: MISSION: World War III: Peace and the Pestilence of RIOTE {1}
by Guest Sun Jul 01, 2012 12:18 am
Why? Why was he here? What stake did he have in this war between people he could care less about? Adryion was there for one reason, and one reason only. To protect the woman he loved and had pledged him self to. But how could he manage that when he didn't even know where she was? OR what she had been doing? He sat in what had been the staging area for the attack that had gone under way some time before, and even as he watched the landscape before him, he could see bright flashes of light and hear the sound of explosions, and knew there was nothing he could do right then to help her/ He had failed miserably and as he listened to what could only be described as a symphony of death, a slight frown came to his scarred face. Why was he still there? Waiting around for someone who may never come back? With a sigh the man that would have other think hes a monster stands and dust off his cloths. He had no place here...So he walked slowly, ever so slowly into the snowy back drop that was the land beyond Briggs and vanishs into the night.
EXIT LIKE A LAME ASS
Guest- Guest
Fort Briggs Wall
by Iris Mon Jul 02, 2012 1:35 am
War: It was something that happened. Neither rain nor sleet nor Hell on earth could stop the wages of war once they opened up. A blank space of nothingness couldn't even hold the wild fares of war that longed to be unleashed on a country still asleep mostly. Heads a rest in their beds while others had meals to start the day. A world surrounded by snow and people bundled to keep warm. Various people scampered about, opening shops, starting their conversations. Officers in their own world. A day that started out so normal would end so terribly colored in crimson stains. Iris's shift never ended. She slept near by her post and woke straight to her job. As the sun stirred her awake, she stretched and got ready.
Making certain she was dressed for the part, she straightened her hat and set out in the world for her starting actions. Breakfast, paperwork and then she was out patrolling. A kind smile from each person who passed by. It seemed it was just the average start to the day. Laughs here, teasing there. Her each step left her with not much to say or do. Simply to watch the walls for any suspicious activity. The day passed as any.
Off she went for a moment, to get something to eat. A break in her room with a few others and she would pull out a small pen. Her vision a bit blurred, she sighed realizing it was about that time of the day anyways. Sinking it in as she always did, she dispensed her daily dose before tossing the empty container as was required. Her mouth almost watering as she sank her teeth in to eat. The radio buzzed in and out as a man came to report that the leader was speaking. Reila Tsukino. The woman whom she shared a last name with.
With a bit of a slow reaction, her fingers tuned it to ease the restless man. Swallowing the bite of burger she'd been savoring on as she said not a word and simply listened. "Good Morning! The weather is at a high -2 with scattered blizzards and a 40% chance of frostbite~" The weather? iris didn't care much about that. It was always freezing with a chance of frostbite. When that wasn't the case was when it was time to worry. Her pink eyes stared at the soldier oddly before the news continued on. "In other news, an avalanche is on the horizon. I say: it's about time, what about you guys? Standby where you are. Prepare yourselves discreetly."
Iris nearly choked on her soda as she took a sip. Her eyes widened and she nearly ran, leaving her food on the table. There wasn't time to finish and she'd regret it later, but more important things were needed. Her body barked out orders, "You heard her, prepare thineselves!" Her voice stated in a loud way that was unlike her unless work was involved. Mind full of concentration and feet leading her foot after foot to her locker. An avalanche? Surely that meant they were about to fight. How wonderful. A normal day could snap just as quickly as fingers.
Slamming open the door to a closet-like room, she grabbed her rifle and pulled it over her shoulder. A sling to keep it in place as she hurried her body to the wall of which she would stand on. Her gun pointed as she waited. A mass of people outside. She was no sniper, but her bullets were aimed to protect the icy fortress. "Keep them at bay until further orders arrive!" Iris stated as she fired off her first shot into the snow. She cursed her terrible shooting skills. "But be wary of any Amestrians." Of course she didn't want to harm her own people. Those in blue were to be spared and help support the cause. That was of course until a man screamed from behind Iris.
Her body spun and she would tense. A body of one of her men had fallen to the ground with blood painting the hard ground about her. At first she wasn't sure what had happened. A body raised above another with a sadistic smirk upon his face. His gun raised to Iris. Lucky enough another soldier fired, shooting the man down, running over to her swiftly. "Are you Alright?" He had asked her, before turning to see another similar situation. He shot another assailant.
"They've brainwashed our people." Iris spoke in a heated whisper as she turned to fire down the wall. Her shooting terrible as always. "God dammit. You'd think in a swarm I'd at least strike a toe." Her voice hissed as the other militant chuckled and shot another man.
"We can't fight like this. We're fighting our own people."
"I know. I know just-." Her gun went off again and missed miserably, making the man far below her jump. Her mind was in a rush of adrenaline. "Look. We need to get my radio, inside. Cover me and I'll cover you."
Her friend groaned. "I'm not so sure I like that idea. You're 'covering' may become friendly fire." His voice teasing. A smile on his face until iris took a glare to him. "Look. You can't hit the broadside of a barn."
"That doesn't mean you can state that." Her voice hissed as she stalked to the hallway. Slowly she led herself to her office, where she found her meal still sitting there, untouched and tantalizing. It seemed to be a worthy adversary but now was not the time to eat. A quick duck and dive and she grabbed the radio. How to word it quickly? "This is Defense Officer Iris Tsukino. I am calling to alert that we are being attacked from the inside. I repe-" Or so she started. A bullet was shot and her new friend crumpled this time. "Son of a bitch." Iris swore to herself, flipping the switch off and turning her own rifle. Without aiming, she fired.
A second passed before the opponent fell down too, atop of her officer's body. Terrible thing was war. Taking a deep breath, she sighed and drug him out. "Can you walk?" Her friend nodded and began his way as Iris pointed two other officers to walk him down. She hoped he would be fine. Her let hand held her radio, placing it in a pocket of her uniform.
On her way out of her office, she stepped on the assailant's hand and snorted. A soft mutter to herself. "Can't hit the broad-side of a barn HA!"
Making certain she was dressed for the part, she straightened her hat and set out in the world for her starting actions. Breakfast, paperwork and then she was out patrolling. A kind smile from each person who passed by. It seemed it was just the average start to the day. Laughs here, teasing there. Her each step left her with not much to say or do. Simply to watch the walls for any suspicious activity. The day passed as any.
Off she went for a moment, to get something to eat. A break in her room with a few others and she would pull out a small pen. Her vision a bit blurred, she sighed realizing it was about that time of the day anyways. Sinking it in as she always did, she dispensed her daily dose before tossing the empty container as was required. Her mouth almost watering as she sank her teeth in to eat. The radio buzzed in and out as a man came to report that the leader was speaking. Reila Tsukino. The woman whom she shared a last name with.
With a bit of a slow reaction, her fingers tuned it to ease the restless man. Swallowing the bite of burger she'd been savoring on as she said not a word and simply listened. "Good Morning! The weather is at a high -2 with scattered blizzards and a 40% chance of frostbite~" The weather? iris didn't care much about that. It was always freezing with a chance of frostbite. When that wasn't the case was when it was time to worry. Her pink eyes stared at the soldier oddly before the news continued on. "In other news, an avalanche is on the horizon. I say: it's about time, what about you guys? Standby where you are. Prepare yourselves discreetly."
Iris nearly choked on her soda as she took a sip. Her eyes widened and she nearly ran, leaving her food on the table. There wasn't time to finish and she'd regret it later, but more important things were needed. Her body barked out orders, "You heard her, prepare thineselves!" Her voice stated in a loud way that was unlike her unless work was involved. Mind full of concentration and feet leading her foot after foot to her locker. An avalanche? Surely that meant they were about to fight. How wonderful. A normal day could snap just as quickly as fingers.
Slamming open the door to a closet-like room, she grabbed her rifle and pulled it over her shoulder. A sling to keep it in place as she hurried her body to the wall of which she would stand on. Her gun pointed as she waited. A mass of people outside. She was no sniper, but her bullets were aimed to protect the icy fortress. "Keep them at bay until further orders arrive!" Iris stated as she fired off her first shot into the snow. She cursed her terrible shooting skills. "But be wary of any Amestrians." Of course she didn't want to harm her own people. Those in blue were to be spared and help support the cause. That was of course until a man screamed from behind Iris.
Her body spun and she would tense. A body of one of her men had fallen to the ground with blood painting the hard ground about her. At first she wasn't sure what had happened. A body raised above another with a sadistic smirk upon his face. His gun raised to Iris. Lucky enough another soldier fired, shooting the man down, running over to her swiftly. "Are you Alright?" He had asked her, before turning to see another similar situation. He shot another assailant.
"They've brainwashed our people." Iris spoke in a heated whisper as she turned to fire down the wall. Her shooting terrible as always. "God dammit. You'd think in a swarm I'd at least strike a toe." Her voice hissed as the other militant chuckled and shot another man.
"We can't fight like this. We're fighting our own people."
"I know. I know just-." Her gun went off again and missed miserably, making the man far below her jump. Her mind was in a rush of adrenaline. "Look. We need to get my radio, inside. Cover me and I'll cover you."
Her friend groaned. "I'm not so sure I like that idea. You're 'covering' may become friendly fire." His voice teasing. A smile on his face until iris took a glare to him. "Look. You can't hit the broadside of a barn."
"That doesn't mean you can state that." Her voice hissed as she stalked to the hallway. Slowly she led herself to her office, where she found her meal still sitting there, untouched and tantalizing. It seemed to be a worthy adversary but now was not the time to eat. A quick duck and dive and she grabbed the radio. How to word it quickly? "This is Defense Officer Iris Tsukino. I am calling to alert that we are being attacked from the inside. I repe-" Or so she started. A bullet was shot and her new friend crumpled this time. "Son of a bitch." Iris swore to herself, flipping the switch off and turning her own rifle. Without aiming, she fired.
A second passed before the opponent fell down too, atop of her officer's body. Terrible thing was war. Taking a deep breath, she sighed and drug him out. "Can you walk?" Her friend nodded and began his way as Iris pointed two other officers to walk him down. She hoped he would be fine. Her let hand held her radio, placing it in a pocket of her uniform.
On her way out of her office, she stepped on the assailant's hand and snorted. A soft mutter to herself. "Can't hit the broad-side of a barn HA!"
Iris- PASSIONATE REMNANT
- Posts : 336
Points : 411
-Case File-
Level: ∞
Rank: Head of Central
Writer: Ammy
INSIDE FORT BRIGGS, MEDICAL WARD: Any available Briggs Soldiers
by Guest Mon Jul 02, 2012 2:40 am
Why was it when you thought things were going to be calm, that the tension would dissipate, it never did? Why did it always have to prove her right and mean that shit was about to hit the fan? Huh? Was it so much to ask for? Cora's head shot up at the first explosion, her hands gripping the cold metal of the framing of the hospital bed just as the baby began to squeal. No. This was not what she wanted. "Dammit I hate being right..." People about her ward startled awake as gunfire and screams began to echo amidst two more explosions that rocked the immovable fortress. How had this happened? Who was attacking them? Her assistants had started from their stations and burst into the ward casting their eyes about for her. This was no time for questions, it was a time for action. They had to get the wounded and disabled out of there. Now.
"I want you to radio around and find us an exit where we can get these people to. Get us a van to the North City hospital ASAP, we'll need them to be ready to move. We can't expect people are going to come to our aid just because we're healers." She immediately commanded, turning to the recovering soldier beside her to calm her down. She picked up the baby and slipped him within his blankets into his mother's arms as she whipped the curtain about so that they could get to her patient. She could hear the rustle of movement as they got wheelchairs for those that couldn't walk, another grabbing medical bags that had all they would need in case they had to treat someone on the run. She ran and got one for the recent mother, helping her in as another explosion echoed down the hall to their door. "Shit." She muttered under her breath as she cast her eyes about and grimaced. They weren't going to be able to safely move these people yet. Not without guards of some sort. Holding out a hand to the mother and child, she pulled out a pistol from her hip and ran to the door, carefully sliding it open to peak out at the potential mayhem outside.
A couple of shots rang out and she ducked back inside, growling under her breath. They needed... bigger guns. "We don't have time to get them out, I want you to take them to the exercise room. Form barricades at the doors, and you stay there. You protect these people." She commanded to her second who ran up to her as he saw her concern. He nodded once and began to shout orders to the others, knowing better than to question why she had specified that they were to stay there. Cora had phrased it that way for a reason. She wasn't about to let them take over her ward, and one of the few ways to ensure she could get anyone out would be to find some help, and kill some bastards. Running to her office, she ripped the door open and immediately dove for her trunk that held all of her better toys. *sigh* If only they were some fresh new equipment instead... OH well. A shotgun would have to do. Her labcoat came off, her other belt coming on instead which was her combat belt pretty much. Pouches filled with medical supplies, bullets, and maybe a couple of grenades lined her waist now as she rose up. It was a good thing she had decided to wear her combat suit today. Civilian clothes would not have helped her at all. Grabbing her bandolier of shotgun shells, she strapped it about her body and rose up, checking her few guns before she returned to her ward.
People were already moving towards the exercise room door at the other end of the ward. It was built nearby to ensure that people could have a proper gym area to do their recuperation exercises and whatnot. The glass was certainly bullet proof with some supplies inside just incase. Cora was glad she managed to have that insight ages ago. She took the time to aid them in at least getting a few more patients inside before a grenade shot one of the doors off of her piece of home. Her aides sprung into action and took over for her while she spun and cocked her pistols, rolling to the side before straightening up on her feet to return fire. Two men crouched about the doorway, firing automatic rifles at her in quick bursts. What bastards were these? They go right for the hospital ward? What shit was this? She fired off four rounds, two out of each pistol, as she ran forward to close the gap, those two men going down as another rounded the corner. Her small body dodged off to the side and curved to avoid fire, wanting to maintain their ultimate attention so that her patients would be safe.
Suddenly the man pulled back, but a grenade came flying in towards her. Clicking her tongue in frustration, the young doctor kicked it back in the direction of the door. What was most amusing to her was that the body of their dead comrade allowed for it to get caught in the perfect position. Imagine that. "Grenade!" Wait a minute. Bringing her arms up to block against the force of the explosive, she slowed and backed up from the area of most damage, wanting to be sure she could still be in a position to aid her people. She still had to grit her teeth while her mind moved a mile a minute. Drachma was attacking them now? What, had they decided that revenge was a good plan? The image of Aurelius and Hild leaving the broken body of the Kremlin flashed in front of her eyes as she righted herself and leaned her back against the wall before inching towards the charred doorway. They owned Drachma now, they had to be the ones responsible for this. Had to. It made her wonder if that little girl with wings was with them again. What was her name.... Nyx. Yes, the girl who had killed all of her team mates back in that other snow covered place.
She wasn't going to get another chance, she had to radio now. "Attention any available soldiers, the medical ward needs help stat. We have wounded and sick who need to get evac immediately. Please respond. This is Dr. Cora Nikita. I repeat, we need aid." She spoke into her radio, curling about the corner to check for enemy forces. They had backed up down the hall behind a makeshift barricade that they had formed. Lovely. One round whizzed perilously close to her head as she pulled back around, her breathing quick but controlled. With a quick calming breath, Cora leaned about the corner and fired a few rounds, not bothering to hang around to see if she had hit her targets. This wasn't going to end well at all. Oh please let someone have heard her....
"I want you to radio around and find us an exit where we can get these people to. Get us a van to the North City hospital ASAP, we'll need them to be ready to move. We can't expect people are going to come to our aid just because we're healers." She immediately commanded, turning to the recovering soldier beside her to calm her down. She picked up the baby and slipped him within his blankets into his mother's arms as she whipped the curtain about so that they could get to her patient. She could hear the rustle of movement as they got wheelchairs for those that couldn't walk, another grabbing medical bags that had all they would need in case they had to treat someone on the run. She ran and got one for the recent mother, helping her in as another explosion echoed down the hall to their door. "Shit." She muttered under her breath as she cast her eyes about and grimaced. They weren't going to be able to safely move these people yet. Not without guards of some sort. Holding out a hand to the mother and child, she pulled out a pistol from her hip and ran to the door, carefully sliding it open to peak out at the potential mayhem outside.
A couple of shots rang out and she ducked back inside, growling under her breath. They needed... bigger guns. "We don't have time to get them out, I want you to take them to the exercise room. Form barricades at the doors, and you stay there. You protect these people." She commanded to her second who ran up to her as he saw her concern. He nodded once and began to shout orders to the others, knowing better than to question why she had specified that they were to stay there. Cora had phrased it that way for a reason. She wasn't about to let them take over her ward, and one of the few ways to ensure she could get anyone out would be to find some help, and kill some bastards. Running to her office, she ripped the door open and immediately dove for her trunk that held all of her better toys. *sigh* If only they were some fresh new equipment instead... OH well. A shotgun would have to do. Her labcoat came off, her other belt coming on instead which was her combat belt pretty much. Pouches filled with medical supplies, bullets, and maybe a couple of grenades lined her waist now as she rose up. It was a good thing she had decided to wear her combat suit today. Civilian clothes would not have helped her at all. Grabbing her bandolier of shotgun shells, she strapped it about her body and rose up, checking her few guns before she returned to her ward.
People were already moving towards the exercise room door at the other end of the ward. It was built nearby to ensure that people could have a proper gym area to do their recuperation exercises and whatnot. The glass was certainly bullet proof with some supplies inside just incase. Cora was glad she managed to have that insight ages ago. She took the time to aid them in at least getting a few more patients inside before a grenade shot one of the doors off of her piece of home. Her aides sprung into action and took over for her while she spun and cocked her pistols, rolling to the side before straightening up on her feet to return fire. Two men crouched about the doorway, firing automatic rifles at her in quick bursts. What bastards were these? They go right for the hospital ward? What shit was this? She fired off four rounds, two out of each pistol, as she ran forward to close the gap, those two men going down as another rounded the corner. Her small body dodged off to the side and curved to avoid fire, wanting to maintain their ultimate attention so that her patients would be safe.
Suddenly the man pulled back, but a grenade came flying in towards her. Clicking her tongue in frustration, the young doctor kicked it back in the direction of the door. What was most amusing to her was that the body of their dead comrade allowed for it to get caught in the perfect position. Imagine that. "Grenade!" Wait a minute. Bringing her arms up to block against the force of the explosive, she slowed and backed up from the area of most damage, wanting to be sure she could still be in a position to aid her people. She still had to grit her teeth while her mind moved a mile a minute. Drachma was attacking them now? What, had they decided that revenge was a good plan? The image of Aurelius and Hild leaving the broken body of the Kremlin flashed in front of her eyes as she righted herself and leaned her back against the wall before inching towards the charred doorway. They owned Drachma now, they had to be the ones responsible for this. Had to. It made her wonder if that little girl with wings was with them again. What was her name.... Nyx. Yes, the girl who had killed all of her team mates back in that other snow covered place.
She wasn't going to get another chance, she had to radio now. "Attention any available soldiers, the medical ward needs help stat. We have wounded and sick who need to get evac immediately. Please respond. This is Dr. Cora Nikita. I repeat, we need aid." She spoke into her radio, curling about the corner to check for enemy forces. They had backed up down the hall behind a makeshift barricade that they had formed. Lovely. One round whizzed perilously close to her head as she pulled back around, her breathing quick but controlled. With a quick calming breath, Cora leaned about the corner and fired a few rounds, not bothering to hang around to see if she had hit her targets. This wasn't going to end well at all. Oh please let someone have heard her....
Guest- Guest
Drachman encampment XX kilometers from Briggs -> Inside Fort Briggs: Ivanka, NPC's
by Guest Mon Jul 02, 2012 6:21 pm
Reports began to come in detailing the progress of Kuvalda and their sleeper agents within the Amestrian fortress that they were camped a safe distance from. Zabulon wasted no time in preparing the forces to move, calling out orders as he stared calmly at the map on the table before him. He had already begun to move pieces as they needed to be, only able to wait for that singular order that would allow him to set all of his chess pieces into motion. There was only so much he could do without that order. Granted if too much time passed, he would move in for good or for ill, but still... He knew he had no need to fear the worst. They were Kuvalda and... others. If nothing else Ivanka would be sure to ensure their success.
This was something that Zabulon found mildly interesting about the recent shift in regime. Normally the Head of Defense would remain back in Drachma to help rebuild and work on the citizens safety at a time like this. He did not feel that they would normally be on the front lines leading the army. There used to be a man who would have been his counterpart, but he seemed to have vanished into the snows as far as that was concerned. No one had taken over his position. And so this meant Zabulon had double duty. In all honesty he did not mind, and he was certainly quite capable of the job, it was just different. He remembered how Svetlana, his mother, had worked with her counterpart with such ease years ago. As long as it was just him, he would just have to burden it all. It was true that little Sveta was getting worried about how much work he had lately, but there was nothing for it. He had to do it all so he would know that she would be safe, that their people would be safe. And if he had to lead this war in order to aid in that, then so be it.
"Commander Goncharovich. Do you copy?" There it was. "I copy." The room fell still at his voice, waiting for him to give the order they too were waiting for. We have infiltrated the base. The main defense systems will be down shortly. Send the gunship and advance teams in and prepare the main army to mobilize." And ever so slowly, a smile began to crack that normally impassive expression he wore at those words. It instantly sent a shiver down everyones spine for the man never ever smiled around them. "Copy that." He spoke into his radio before straightening up and drawing his scythe from its holster. He took a moment to take a breath before he began to issue his orders, "Gunships to the ready, I want them to go forth first. Artillery should offer them cover. Everyone, it is time to move out. For those that were told to go in first, they have their orders. The main army will follow after them."
Everyone immediately rose up and saluted him, collectively saying, "Yes sir!" No one needed to be told twice as he slowly stepped outside of his tent. "COMRADES! It is time to take the fight to the Amestrians." His deep voice boomed out across the area and every soldier's head raised, a flurry of action taking place as everyone readied themselves to move. He wasted no time moving towards one of the trucks on their way towards the imposing wall ahead of them. Soon enough he would be able to create havoc as they had in their home, soon enough he would get to have his payback.
Zabulon abandoned the truck once he was close enough to the wall, spinning his scythe as the blade swung into place. He removed his glove from his right hand, the tattoos almost seeming to glow a crimson even though it wasn't. Cracking his neck, soldiers from Briggs began to greet him and his small squad, his long legs suddenly propelling him forward as he prepared to swing. Soon enough he was cutting through their ranks as his men fired, pushing his way into the grand fortress. As he drew close to one man, he gripped his forehead with his right hand and activated his alchemy before throwing him backwards, continuing onwards with his conquest of blood. Let them try to stop him from tearing them down.
This was something that Zabulon found mildly interesting about the recent shift in regime. Normally the Head of Defense would remain back in Drachma to help rebuild and work on the citizens safety at a time like this. He did not feel that they would normally be on the front lines leading the army. There used to be a man who would have been his counterpart, but he seemed to have vanished into the snows as far as that was concerned. No one had taken over his position. And so this meant Zabulon had double duty. In all honesty he did not mind, and he was certainly quite capable of the job, it was just different. He remembered how Svetlana, his mother, had worked with her counterpart with such ease years ago. As long as it was just him, he would just have to burden it all. It was true that little Sveta was getting worried about how much work he had lately, but there was nothing for it. He had to do it all so he would know that she would be safe, that their people would be safe. And if he had to lead this war in order to aid in that, then so be it.
"Commander Goncharovich. Do you copy?" There it was. "I copy." The room fell still at his voice, waiting for him to give the order they too were waiting for. We have infiltrated the base. The main defense systems will be down shortly. Send the gunship and advance teams in and prepare the main army to mobilize." And ever so slowly, a smile began to crack that normally impassive expression he wore at those words. It instantly sent a shiver down everyones spine for the man never ever smiled around them. "Copy that." He spoke into his radio before straightening up and drawing his scythe from its holster. He took a moment to take a breath before he began to issue his orders, "Gunships to the ready, I want them to go forth first. Artillery should offer them cover. Everyone, it is time to move out. For those that were told to go in first, they have their orders. The main army will follow after them."
Everyone immediately rose up and saluted him, collectively saying, "Yes sir!" No one needed to be told twice as he slowly stepped outside of his tent. "COMRADES! It is time to take the fight to the Amestrians." His deep voice boomed out across the area and every soldier's head raised, a flurry of action taking place as everyone readied themselves to move. He wasted no time moving towards one of the trucks on their way towards the imposing wall ahead of them. Soon enough he would be able to create havoc as they had in their home, soon enough he would get to have his payback.
~Time skip to getting inside Briggs~
Zabulon abandoned the truck once he was close enough to the wall, spinning his scythe as the blade swung into place. He removed his glove from his right hand, the tattoos almost seeming to glow a crimson even though it wasn't. Cracking his neck, soldiers from Briggs began to greet him and his small squad, his long legs suddenly propelling him forward as he prepared to swing. Soon enough he was cutting through their ranks as his men fired, pushing his way into the grand fortress. As he drew close to one man, he gripped his forehead with his right hand and activated his alchemy before throwing him backwards, continuing onwards with his conquest of blood. Let them try to stop him from tearing them down.
Guest- Guest
Inside Fort Briggs ---> Ayden
by Emmelin Mon Jul 02, 2012 7:14 pm
How amusing. A man who believed he could overrule the Archangel. She had control of Hell and here he was cackling and enjoying this more than she. What a shame. This man she'd been obsessed with for years had come as she planned. Lead a wolf from the pack and it was a lot easier of a game. Her bullet missed her mark. His shoulder was unaffected by the sent attack. He shouted something in his mania. What it was, Val couldn't really care. His first attack was always flashiest, or so it seemed with everyone she met. Assassins were made to be one hit wonders. Though, she didn't doubt the man one bit. She knew there was more to him than most, however Val was well versed in ducking around potential attackers. She had trained herself to fend off Assassins. For once she thanked her paranoia.
Her hand rested in her palm, bored as he spoke his words. Her legs crossed, the feminine figure of the succubus simply watched Ayden as he pulled the other bullets out of what would have been a hit. It displeased her though. the man had moved INTO the hit, she'd aimed for his legs and he took it with his stomach.. well sort of. He didn't bleed like her. There had to be a reason for that. Originally she had believed him to be the Devil in human skin, but in their parting, she'd found a true devil. Someone to give support to, someone who gave her what she needed. A cause.
Ayden had given something as well, but the relationship seemed to be at a halt. He took little no interest in keeping up with her needs, her urges. Though she loved the thought of being tortured, it seemed this type of torture was not what she'd wanted nor expected. The emotional loops that drove her to reddened rage. Kill. Murder. Her impulse ate at her hungrily. That smile wide on his face. She felt as if she was in love for a moment. This psychopath was a source of entertainment, but only as long as she wanted.
"...well done on your final examination," Val snickered a bit. She was to speak, but it seemed he was having a moment. She let him have it. Let him roll in the ecstasy that was power, while she watched on with amused eyes. The way a predator stares at prey, her lip twitched into a soft smirk. It was like watching a child in Christmas. the way he gorged on the fact he had hold over her and yet...
Whom had really been pulling the strings she wondered. Her eyes saw in a new light that this man was just a man. Her own stalking frenzies allowed her to spy on his love life. A woman in his future, so boring.. so human. He had weaknesses as any other man, yet it was harder for her to strike at them. A sort of bond to him, though it was so obviously one sided. She was a masochist and it was no surprise to her that she would find herself in a world that had taken and emotional toll on her. Hadn't Aurelius mentioned something of the likes of her being placed in a world of tests. Was this the first one?
There was no way to keep both sides, she'd have to choose. Though the choice was already made and now she was simply clinging to the dredges for the last little bit of amusement. How depressing this man never fell for her charms in the ways of others. Indeed that frustrated her, but he seemed to fill his role well. But each act had a closing number and here it was. A bulletproof vest. That explained the lack of blood. Oh good, she was glad. Had she'd seen it, she would have been tempted. Spill more when death was not the objective. Simply prolonging, pushing them all back until the others reached central. He was playing his part well.
A psychopath was always the one to be strayed aside. Take out a strong link and the whole chain would shatter. Her eyes blinked as he continued to ramble such things. She found herself bored. Why did she not find such interest? Perhaps she'd had a new toy that was far more interesting than the ramblings of old news. It began to make her wonder when he'd lost his taste. She'd expected to bleed more, but instead he was standing there yelling at her. What was this all about.
"You've betrayed me." For once, Valeria flinched. Her normally unaffected face gave a twinge of surprise. That hurt! She hadn't betrayed him, yet. A little poison here and there. "My integrity, my honour, and my code as an assassin," He paused again as she remained hurt upon the words he spoke. Betrayal? There was no betrayal yet. "I was wrong to take you on as a student." There was the real pain. Like a knife in her heart. She wasn't used to the slicing in her heart. That sting of emotional pain that was far less exciting than the thrill of physical pain. Blood was so much more arousing than tears. She only felt alive when her body cried crimson droplets.
So there WAS betrayal, but it wasn't from the disciple of the devil. No, her Master had betrayed her. The pain sizzled in her body for what felt like forever as she watched the man's actions. His hands pulling weapons and stalking towards her. Perhaps she should be more upset about it, but oddly enough, she seemed to be over it. yet flames of hatred licked at her internally and compelled her to sate his lying mind. Had there been a plan to betray him? Why of course not, but her arm had been bent behind her back when she was spoken to. Her own life had significance as well, no matter how much the man had meant to her, but now, it seemed he was nothing. An insignificant speck on her life that was so easily wiped away from sight.
"You're not fit to be an apprentice or protégé of mine any more, Valeria Diablos," He seemed to repeat in another way. The first cut was the deepest, this one flew right past her. Valeria simply smiled once more, only this time, her grin was that of a viper. Not many animals enjoyed being hurt without hurting back. An eye for an eye or possibly something more was fitting for this. He wanted to use word to hurt her? Then so be it. She wasn't known for being a forgiving being. Once in her sight, she would have you, one way or another.
On and on he went. His words were useless blathers to her. The comprehension of his words no longer needed as in all matters she announced him as dead to her mentally. Ease the pain by sliding a thicker knife to them. What goes around comes around. the thought rolled in her mind while the violet orbs seeped a toxic glare. If looks could kill, he'd be dead. "You have learnt from nothing less than the best, and out of respect for what you once were, and had the potential to become, I shall give you one chance to leave before I truly show you..."
He paused in melodramatic ceremony. Yes, had this been a play it would have been one well written. Who the protagonist was, truly depended on point of view as he continued and even went so far as THREATENING her. "Before I truly show you......what it means... to fear." Cute. there was absolutely nothing Valeria knew of that she feared. Well, other than germs and the general idea of getting her clothes dirty. The latter was already passed and no longer to be affected as her clothes really weren't even clothes anyways. She still waited, unmoving, staring at him as if he were a fleeting distraction on the fence. the longer he would speak the more time she had towards the master plan. She honestly cared no ways on what went on at Briggs, her only objective was to make sure these generals were occupied. In her mind the more he monologued, the more time it bough t her new master and his other pets. However it seemed the debut was almost over and as he continued, his words were dying low. Finally, he was beginning to silence.
"If you want to fight, then that's your choice. I'd love to do battle, but, dear student, this is where we part. Your results can be spelt here, today, in blood......or ink." Oh the wild look in his eyes. She adored it. the crazed mad dog that snarled and begged for blood with gnashing fangs behind its cage, yet he didn't initially take it. He simply barked at her, warned her if she came any closer she would be silenced for an eternity. Her eyes glinted with amusement as he drawled onto his final few words. A warning spoken a thousand times was a warning. Back off before I kill you. Leave with your tail between your legs. But her mark had yet to be left. Valeria wasn't one to back down without a fight, but her fighting was in other manners. Ways that made most opponents crumple to the ground and kiss the very ground she stepped upon. She was a woman; she was the Mistress of the damned souls that she soon stole away.
A blade was to her throat, tip nearly touching her fleshy skin. The temptation, the way it felt amazingly upon her body made her almost long for it. Her eyes dared him, invited him to cut her body. Delicious pain felt a way to accept his words. He finally finished speaking and for a moment she was silent. A blade Her hands flew up the instance it rose, but as a misleading gesture. As if to insult him, she merely played with her hair. Fingers trailing the dark tresses as her left hand rested to move on her mouth, not in the way of his blade. Forcibly mocking a yawn, she groaned and stretched both arms above her head. "Ah. You're finally done speaking I see?"
Yes it seemed she didn't take him seriously. Her eyes cooed soft words. "I thought I was going to fall asleep." That silver tongue did its usual work, speaking in a flirty tone as she simply let her body fall back. Blood fell scarcely as she ducked away from major injury, but a small cut was barely anything. "Mmm.. That feels nice..." She would moan before moving back to where she was. Her hands moving swiftly and her scythe placed in the instance the tanto fell down. It swung up, aiming to hook him from behind and yet, it stopped just barely out of reach of his body.
]"Your words never end, do they?" She asked as her body followed up by disappearing behind the wall. Her whole being tucked in a ball with scythe just out of the way. She fell back into the building. Lead him further. Come along little wolf. Chase the wolf dressed as a sheep. Her heart pounded while she pulled herself up to her feet and reloaded her gun. Breathe. She forgot to breathe when she fired. Yet she waited with her invitation. "Ven aquí, gatito, gatito.(Come here, kitty, kitty)! Ven a jugar conmigo (Come play with me)" Her walk was no longer that of a human it seemed, but more of a tiger about to pounce. She wanted more blades, more cutting and more pain. Oh the thrill of it all! She was simply a toy to the game but the small little rush was always worth it. A high no drugs could reach, though she'd never tried things like that. However she waited for him, blatantly showing she saw this as nothing more than a child's little game.
Her hand rested in her palm, bored as he spoke his words. Her legs crossed, the feminine figure of the succubus simply watched Ayden as he pulled the other bullets out of what would have been a hit. It displeased her though. the man had moved INTO the hit, she'd aimed for his legs and he took it with his stomach.. well sort of. He didn't bleed like her. There had to be a reason for that. Originally she had believed him to be the Devil in human skin, but in their parting, she'd found a true devil. Someone to give support to, someone who gave her what she needed. A cause.
Ayden had given something as well, but the relationship seemed to be at a halt. He took little no interest in keeping up with her needs, her urges. Though she loved the thought of being tortured, it seemed this type of torture was not what she'd wanted nor expected. The emotional loops that drove her to reddened rage. Kill. Murder. Her impulse ate at her hungrily. That smile wide on his face. She felt as if she was in love for a moment. This psychopath was a source of entertainment, but only as long as she wanted.
"...well done on your final examination," Val snickered a bit. She was to speak, but it seemed he was having a moment. She let him have it. Let him roll in the ecstasy that was power, while she watched on with amused eyes. The way a predator stares at prey, her lip twitched into a soft smirk. It was like watching a child in Christmas. the way he gorged on the fact he had hold over her and yet...
Whom had really been pulling the strings she wondered. Her eyes saw in a new light that this man was just a man. Her own stalking frenzies allowed her to spy on his love life. A woman in his future, so boring.. so human. He had weaknesses as any other man, yet it was harder for her to strike at them. A sort of bond to him, though it was so obviously one sided. She was a masochist and it was no surprise to her that she would find herself in a world that had taken and emotional toll on her. Hadn't Aurelius mentioned something of the likes of her being placed in a world of tests. Was this the first one?
There was no way to keep both sides, she'd have to choose. Though the choice was already made and now she was simply clinging to the dredges for the last little bit of amusement. How depressing this man never fell for her charms in the ways of others. Indeed that frustrated her, but he seemed to fill his role well. But each act had a closing number and here it was. A bulletproof vest. That explained the lack of blood. Oh good, she was glad. Had she'd seen it, she would have been tempted. Spill more when death was not the objective. Simply prolonging, pushing them all back until the others reached central. He was playing his part well.
A psychopath was always the one to be strayed aside. Take out a strong link and the whole chain would shatter. Her eyes blinked as he continued to ramble such things. She found herself bored. Why did she not find such interest? Perhaps she'd had a new toy that was far more interesting than the ramblings of old news. It began to make her wonder when he'd lost his taste. She'd expected to bleed more, but instead he was standing there yelling at her. What was this all about.
"You've betrayed me." For once, Valeria flinched. Her normally unaffected face gave a twinge of surprise. That hurt! She hadn't betrayed him, yet. A little poison here and there. "My integrity, my honour, and my code as an assassin," He paused again as she remained hurt upon the words he spoke. Betrayal? There was no betrayal yet. "I was wrong to take you on as a student." There was the real pain. Like a knife in her heart. She wasn't used to the slicing in her heart. That sting of emotional pain that was far less exciting than the thrill of physical pain. Blood was so much more arousing than tears. She only felt alive when her body cried crimson droplets.
So there WAS betrayal, but it wasn't from the disciple of the devil. No, her Master had betrayed her. The pain sizzled in her body for what felt like forever as she watched the man's actions. His hands pulling weapons and stalking towards her. Perhaps she should be more upset about it, but oddly enough, she seemed to be over it. yet flames of hatred licked at her internally and compelled her to sate his lying mind. Had there been a plan to betray him? Why of course not, but her arm had been bent behind her back when she was spoken to. Her own life had significance as well, no matter how much the man had meant to her, but now, it seemed he was nothing. An insignificant speck on her life that was so easily wiped away from sight.
"You're not fit to be an apprentice or protégé of mine any more, Valeria Diablos," He seemed to repeat in another way. The first cut was the deepest, this one flew right past her. Valeria simply smiled once more, only this time, her grin was that of a viper. Not many animals enjoyed being hurt without hurting back. An eye for an eye or possibly something more was fitting for this. He wanted to use word to hurt her? Then so be it. She wasn't known for being a forgiving being. Once in her sight, she would have you, one way or another.
On and on he went. His words were useless blathers to her. The comprehension of his words no longer needed as in all matters she announced him as dead to her mentally. Ease the pain by sliding a thicker knife to them. What goes around comes around. the thought rolled in her mind while the violet orbs seeped a toxic glare. If looks could kill, he'd be dead. "You have learnt from nothing less than the best, and out of respect for what you once were, and had the potential to become, I shall give you one chance to leave before I truly show you..."
He paused in melodramatic ceremony. Yes, had this been a play it would have been one well written. Who the protagonist was, truly depended on point of view as he continued and even went so far as THREATENING her. "Before I truly show you......what it means... to fear." Cute. there was absolutely nothing Valeria knew of that she feared. Well, other than germs and the general idea of getting her clothes dirty. The latter was already passed and no longer to be affected as her clothes really weren't even clothes anyways. She still waited, unmoving, staring at him as if he were a fleeting distraction on the fence. the longer he would speak the more time she had towards the master plan. She honestly cared no ways on what went on at Briggs, her only objective was to make sure these generals were occupied. In her mind the more he monologued, the more time it bough t her new master and his other pets. However it seemed the debut was almost over and as he continued, his words were dying low. Finally, he was beginning to silence.
"If you want to fight, then that's your choice. I'd love to do battle, but, dear student, this is where we part. Your results can be spelt here, today, in blood......or ink." Oh the wild look in his eyes. She adored it. the crazed mad dog that snarled and begged for blood with gnashing fangs behind its cage, yet he didn't initially take it. He simply barked at her, warned her if she came any closer she would be silenced for an eternity. Her eyes glinted with amusement as he drawled onto his final few words. A warning spoken a thousand times was a warning. Back off before I kill you. Leave with your tail between your legs. But her mark had yet to be left. Valeria wasn't one to back down without a fight, but her fighting was in other manners. Ways that made most opponents crumple to the ground and kiss the very ground she stepped upon. She was a woman; she was the Mistress of the damned souls that she soon stole away.
A blade was to her throat, tip nearly touching her fleshy skin. The temptation, the way it felt amazingly upon her body made her almost long for it. Her eyes dared him, invited him to cut her body. Delicious pain felt a way to accept his words. He finally finished speaking and for a moment she was silent. A blade Her hands flew up the instance it rose, but as a misleading gesture. As if to insult him, she merely played with her hair. Fingers trailing the dark tresses as her left hand rested to move on her mouth, not in the way of his blade. Forcibly mocking a yawn, she groaned and stretched both arms above her head. "Ah. You're finally done speaking I see?"
Yes it seemed she didn't take him seriously. Her eyes cooed soft words. "I thought I was going to fall asleep." That silver tongue did its usual work, speaking in a flirty tone as she simply let her body fall back. Blood fell scarcely as she ducked away from major injury, but a small cut was barely anything. "Mmm.. That feels nice..." She would moan before moving back to where she was. Her hands moving swiftly and her scythe placed in the instance the tanto fell down. It swung up, aiming to hook him from behind and yet, it stopped just barely out of reach of his body.
]"Your words never end, do they?" She asked as her body followed up by disappearing behind the wall. Her whole being tucked in a ball with scythe just out of the way. She fell back into the building. Lead him further. Come along little wolf. Chase the wolf dressed as a sheep. Her heart pounded while she pulled herself up to her feet and reloaded her gun. Breathe. She forgot to breathe when she fired. Yet she waited with her invitation. "Ven aquí, gatito, gatito.(Come here, kitty, kitty)! Ven a jugar conmigo (Come play with me)" Her walk was no longer that of a human it seemed, but more of a tiger about to pounce. She wanted more blades, more cutting and more pain. Oh the thrill of it all! She was simply a toy to the game but the small little rush was always worth it. A high no drugs could reach, though she'd never tried things like that. However she waited for him, blatantly showing she saw this as nothing more than a child's little game.
Emmelin- PICTURE PERFECT
- Posts : 295
Points : 345
-Case File-
Level: 1
Rank: ?
Writer: Ammy
FORT BRIGGS -> WATCHTOWER; CORRIDOR: VALERIA
by Guest Mon Jul 02, 2012 11:21 pm
"Your words never end, do they?" His face contorted into a sneer as he drew the tanto back and she slid her throat along it. A small, thin rivulet of blood drew and begin to seep, a simple cut, nothing more than that. Her masochism became apparent ever further, and, finally, she posed the question.
Ayden was almost sure it was rhetoric; but the laughter was a good sign. Perhaps she was taking it well! A giddy thought struck his mind, and he begun to make his retort. "My dear girl," He spoke with ancient, dusty fondness upon his voice. "My words are both perfection and absolution. You shouldn't be wishing for them to end."
"Ven aquí, gatito, gatito! Ven a jugar conmigo." Ayden rolled his eyes. More Esparian? Did no-one listen to him? She had leapt back, cocked the pistol, and darted off, simply enough; but the threat that it would have posed to any plebian was eliminated when the expression sitting on her pallor still remained hesitant. Despite the facade, the amateur mask of happiness to be 'free' of her 'binds' that she so eagerly put up, the silver-haired assassin's analytical prowess tended to come in handy in these scenarios: risk assessment.
Ayden knew his reflexes, too. He was fast; and there was barely a few feet between them as the chase continued for a moment down the halls of Briggs. Now, a single stride would close the distance, and he'd have time to bat the gun away before she could fire on target. All of this tied in with the fact that he was willing to take a gamble to make his point; and they were finished. The snarl thrummed at the bottom of his throat before making its presence duly known. "You want blood?" It erupted into life with a start, filling the halls with a vicious echo alongside the clap of their running footsteps in unison. "So be it."
The assassin lunged forwards, twirling the blades with his wrists as he struck. The silver danced in the moonlight, and whilst one tanto pushed away a firing gun, the other came down in a far more deadly arc; destined straight for one Valeria Diablos' wrist. Shing... splat.
Everything froze in time for that one moment as the blood quickly began to coat the Aerugese blade and his blue eyes met her red. Silence. The room was completely and utterly filled, flooded, with sheer, total, blanketing silence. The hand hit the floor before he could push her backwards, rolling, veins and arteries blossoming with all manner of fountainous and intermittent spurts of blood. Quickly the liquid pooled around them, and the tissue and skin around the edge appeared not to be jagged or tarnished in the slightest; for all intents and purposes, the cut was as clean as could be.
Ayden licked his lips as another cartridge casing hit the floor. He flicked the tanto up at his side and stared at her right back until she realised what had happened to her arm; blood spatters run up him in lines as if they were deadly paintbrush strokes carving a masterpiece across his very body. One streak, warm, liquid, and very much fresh from the Archangel's wrist drew a line up his neck, chin, cheek, and over his eye before flecks of crimson dissipated into that silvery fringe. His pale skin contrasted the tarnishing of her lifeblood, and he smiled, dazed, as if his mind were somewhere else.
The aura of sadistic triumph, however, was yet radiating from him. He held the twin blades in reverse for a moment, before pointing them inwards and sheathing them at his back. Things were finished, here. It was time to leave, and return to the watchtower with the others. The battle in the corridors had diminished, from the looks around him; the gunfire was quietened, and the commanders had their own problems to deal with.
The walls were cracked and riddled with bullets, and the rusted ramshackle metal flooring dripping with the blood intermingling of troops both Amestrian and Drachman - though one Esparian's stood out, trailing still from that hand; the chase was complete, and the brief game of cat-and-mouse finished. She had ran, but it had taken only one lunge for him to catch her before she was done, agile as she was, as per her renown. "Now... this..." He smiled to himself, cocking his head as the smirk arched quickly into a depraved, macabre grin. "This... I think I'll take."
Reaching down with the simplest of motions, he grasped the hand, and admired it. So elegant, so lithe, so ladylike; false rigor mortis had already taken it, and the hand was stiffening, its grip yet adamant. He pressed for a moment against the clenched grasp of her fingers, but they wouldn't budge, even in separation from what remained of her pitiful body. "As a keepsake," He announced, tucking the severed fist into a jacket pocket with a grin, turning to beam at her. "A reminder of happier times, eh, Valeria? Heheh..."
Ayden turned on his heel abruptly, interlocking his hands behind her, and callously ignoring her, his mind wiping her from existence. He begun a brisk walk towards the watchtower, whistling as he went, making no effort to move away from the hideous sight of her, any more. Valeria Diablos was as good as gone from his life, and she'd been left with a searing pain in the stump of her left arm as a reminder, a reminder of a statement so many had been left with at the man's mercy before. Don't fuck with the Blackskull Alchemist.
Ayden was almost sure it was rhetoric; but the laughter was a good sign. Perhaps she was taking it well! A giddy thought struck his mind, and he begun to make his retort. "My dear girl," He spoke with ancient, dusty fondness upon his voice. "My words are both perfection and absolution. You shouldn't be wishing for them to end."
"Ven aquí, gatito, gatito! Ven a jugar conmigo." Ayden rolled his eyes. More Esparian? Did no-one listen to him? She had leapt back, cocked the pistol, and darted off, simply enough; but the threat that it would have posed to any plebian was eliminated when the expression sitting on her pallor still remained hesitant. Despite the facade, the amateur mask of happiness to be 'free' of her 'binds' that she so eagerly put up, the silver-haired assassin's analytical prowess tended to come in handy in these scenarios: risk assessment.
Ayden knew his reflexes, too. He was fast; and there was barely a few feet between them as the chase continued for a moment down the halls of Briggs. Now, a single stride would close the distance, and he'd have time to bat the gun away before she could fire on target. All of this tied in with the fact that he was willing to take a gamble to make his point; and they were finished. The snarl thrummed at the bottom of his throat before making its presence duly known. "You want blood?" It erupted into life with a start, filling the halls with a vicious echo alongside the clap of their running footsteps in unison. "So be it."
The assassin lunged forwards, twirling the blades with his wrists as he struck. The silver danced in the moonlight, and whilst one tanto pushed away a firing gun, the other came down in a far more deadly arc; destined straight for one Valeria Diablos' wrist. Shing... splat.
Everything froze in time for that one moment as the blood quickly began to coat the Aerugese blade and his blue eyes met her red. Silence. The room was completely and utterly filled, flooded, with sheer, total, blanketing silence. The hand hit the floor before he could push her backwards, rolling, veins and arteries blossoming with all manner of fountainous and intermittent spurts of blood. Quickly the liquid pooled around them, and the tissue and skin around the edge appeared not to be jagged or tarnished in the slightest; for all intents and purposes, the cut was as clean as could be.
Ayden licked his lips as another cartridge casing hit the floor. He flicked the tanto up at his side and stared at her right back until she realised what had happened to her arm; blood spatters run up him in lines as if they were deadly paintbrush strokes carving a masterpiece across his very body. One streak, warm, liquid, and very much fresh from the Archangel's wrist drew a line up his neck, chin, cheek, and over his eye before flecks of crimson dissipated into that silvery fringe. His pale skin contrasted the tarnishing of her lifeblood, and he smiled, dazed, as if his mind were somewhere else.
The aura of sadistic triumph, however, was yet radiating from him. He held the twin blades in reverse for a moment, before pointing them inwards and sheathing them at his back. Things were finished, here. It was time to leave, and return to the watchtower with the others. The battle in the corridors had diminished, from the looks around him; the gunfire was quietened, and the commanders had their own problems to deal with.
The walls were cracked and riddled with bullets, and the rusted ramshackle metal flooring dripping with the blood intermingling of troops both Amestrian and Drachman - though one Esparian's stood out, trailing still from that hand; the chase was complete, and the brief game of cat-and-mouse finished. She had ran, but it had taken only one lunge for him to catch her before she was done, agile as she was, as per her renown. "Now... this..." He smiled to himself, cocking his head as the smirk arched quickly into a depraved, macabre grin. "This... I think I'll take."
Reaching down with the simplest of motions, he grasped the hand, and admired it. So elegant, so lithe, so ladylike; false rigor mortis had already taken it, and the hand was stiffening, its grip yet adamant. He pressed for a moment against the clenched grasp of her fingers, but they wouldn't budge, even in separation from what remained of her pitiful body. "As a keepsake," He announced, tucking the severed fist into a jacket pocket with a grin, turning to beam at her. "A reminder of happier times, eh, Valeria? Heheh..."
Ayden turned on his heel abruptly, interlocking his hands behind her, and callously ignoring her, his mind wiping her from existence. He begun a brisk walk towards the watchtower, whistling as he went, making no effort to move away from the hideous sight of her, any more. Valeria Diablos was as good as gone from his life, and she'd been left with a searing pain in the stump of her left arm as a reminder, a reminder of a statement so many had been left with at the man's mercy before. Don't fuck with the Blackskull Alchemist.
Last edited by Ayden Derocha on Wed Jul 04, 2012 5:16 pm; edited 1 time in total
Guest- Guest
INSIDE FORT BRIGGS, MEDICAL WARD
by Murazar Dauthi Wed Jul 04, 2012 2:29 am
Murazar heard explosions, gunfire and everything going straight to hell. He yelled over the noise to Reila before shutting the Tv off. "I'm evacing my personell off site with as much of our classified material as possible. The rest is being burned and shredded. Reila, we can either die here or fight our way out. They're attacking the outside, the roof, and inside with apparently our own soldiers and their commandos. I recommend combat personell to withdraw and retake Briggs. Colonel Dauthi, out."
His personell weren't combat driven, oh they had the experience and training. It just wasn't their job. He began barking out orders and assisting with setting everything on fire. The one perk of being a flame alchemist. He also began issuing orders to load up and prepare to leave. Suddenly he heard over the radio, "Attention any available soldiers, the medical ward needs help stat. We have wounded and sick who need to get evac immediately. Please respond. This is Dr. Cora Nikita. I repeat, we need aid."
Now that would be Cora wouldn't it? Well he did owe her and she was a pleasant person to talk with so he might as well pick her and her people up on the way out. He grabbed a nearby radio before telling his men to begin combat manuevers to the hospital section. He radioed back to Cora,"This is Colonel Dauthi, me and the entire Intelligence division are on our way. ETA, three minutes. Out." He clipped the radio on, pulled a pistol out and held his other hand at the ready as he exploded the rest of the rooms and followed his men out. He sealed the entrance behind them.
There goes all the classified material that wasn't transferred. Bollocks. He sighed as he followed his men out. Luckily the hospital ward was close by. His men hit resistance almost automatically and Murazar moved out to the front of them. Snapping his fingers and blowing a part any one who dared to shoot at him or his men. Luckily he didn't see any high ranking enemies or former friendlies out of the bunch.
He smirked grimly at an amusing thought, So does this mean I get actual military awards or just more honorary civilian awards? He laughed bleakly as he tore a part his opposition and his men held off anyone assaulting elsewhere around them. Within those three minutes he arrived and exploded the few men behind makeshift barracades assaulting coras position. He killed them before ducking behind his cover and yelling out and over his radio."Its Colonel Dauthi, seize fire. My men and me will help you and your people get out." He holstered his pistol before waiting for it to be clear and motioning for his men to move in and yelled at his rear guard to hold the position as his men began moving the wounded and disabled.
He walked down the hall to greet cora with a grim smile, " This is my first time being a hero. How dashing do I look?" He looked virtually the same, except for the soot that laid a small coat on his clothes and a bit on his cheeks and forehead. It made him seem like he was more of a firefighter than a soldier. He grinned like a rogue before reloading his pistol and keeping it at his side. He asked with a less charming and more serious smile."We're going to need to fight our way to the vehicles and drive out of here before it gets too nasty. I hope the mechanics and some of the scouts down there are holding the bay alright."
His personell weren't combat driven, oh they had the experience and training. It just wasn't their job. He began barking out orders and assisting with setting everything on fire. The one perk of being a flame alchemist. He also began issuing orders to load up and prepare to leave. Suddenly he heard over the radio, "Attention any available soldiers, the medical ward needs help stat. We have wounded and sick who need to get evac immediately. Please respond. This is Dr. Cora Nikita. I repeat, we need aid."
Now that would be Cora wouldn't it? Well he did owe her and she was a pleasant person to talk with so he might as well pick her and her people up on the way out. He grabbed a nearby radio before telling his men to begin combat manuevers to the hospital section. He radioed back to Cora,"This is Colonel Dauthi, me and the entire Intelligence division are on our way. ETA, three minutes. Out." He clipped the radio on, pulled a pistol out and held his other hand at the ready as he exploded the rest of the rooms and followed his men out. He sealed the entrance behind them.
There goes all the classified material that wasn't transferred. Bollocks. He sighed as he followed his men out. Luckily the hospital ward was close by. His men hit resistance almost automatically and Murazar moved out to the front of them. Snapping his fingers and blowing a part any one who dared to shoot at him or his men. Luckily he didn't see any high ranking enemies or former friendlies out of the bunch.
He smirked grimly at an amusing thought, So does this mean I get actual military awards or just more honorary civilian awards? He laughed bleakly as he tore a part his opposition and his men held off anyone assaulting elsewhere around them. Within those three minutes he arrived and exploded the few men behind makeshift barracades assaulting coras position. He killed them before ducking behind his cover and yelling out and over his radio."Its Colonel Dauthi, seize fire. My men and me will help you and your people get out." He holstered his pistol before waiting for it to be clear and motioning for his men to move in and yelled at his rear guard to hold the position as his men began moving the wounded and disabled.
He walked down the hall to greet cora with a grim smile, " This is my first time being a hero. How dashing do I look?" He looked virtually the same, except for the soot that laid a small coat on his clothes and a bit on his cheeks and forehead. It made him seem like he was more of a firefighter than a soldier. He grinned like a rogue before reloading his pistol and keeping it at his side. He asked with a less charming and more serious smile."We're going to need to fight our way to the vehicles and drive out of here before it gets too nasty. I hope the mechanics and some of the scouts down there are holding the bay alright."
Murazar Dauthi- SOUL CATCHER
- Posts : 629
Points : 350
-Case File-
Level: 4
Rank: Chronos
Writer: Mura
FORT BRIGGS- Watchtower > _: Mura, Ayden, Akito, Jet, Mirov (RIP), All of Briggs Brigade,
by Reila Tsukino Fri Jul 06, 2012 8:25 pm
“Reila." No, the snow was more appealing than listening to the inevitable. She turned slowly, dragging her eyes from the scene of the snowy tundra, still so peaceful she could hardly believe that they were finally coming. This is it. Red. It was going to be stained red again. The thought was not just a thought, but like seeing the future--a breath locked in an hourglass falling up. She breathed out and turned, her eyes locking with the large screen in her office blaring through the open steel door, thick with alarms. Their doors were open. Caught prepared, not off guard, but with...their doors open. People lived. That's all this was: living. There was no way to change the scenario--no way to make this coming any softer. Reila's eyes grew hard, her expression dense. "I believe from our currently greatest weakness and from their strengths, the Drachman forces will most likely assault via Air and Artillery whilst landing Air Assault soldiers from the helicopters to security our top layer defenses," Murazar Dauthi continued, Reila's focus not straying from the blue-colored pixels of the man's eyes. They were standing here talking. A war was starting, but she was still here, in her office, on her balcony (watchtower) talking. She opened her mouth to say something, but the Head of Intelligence continued unaware. "They know from prior attempts that this is our weakest and most vulnerable position while simultaneously being one of our greatest defenses. Most of our counter-artillery..." Mura stole the dialogue, continuing on in eons of tactics. Reila remained poised, unable to move forward. Her eyes hurt, color bleeding out around her pinpoint pupils like liquid gold; she had to look away. Weakness. Vulnerability. That wasn't in Briggs' dictionary. How did they get aircrafts over the mountain range? Her expression was slightly bewildered, but it faded the more his words sunk in. The roof. Flying over the Fort's great wall to the roof was a soft spot never before ventured by any attack before this. He's right... our greatest defense is also now our worst weakness. They were at a disadvantage at the get-go--already Briggs was facing a foe that exceeded expectations. But...who said they were ever going to let them land?
Mura continued, "our best shot is to rig our defenses to explode on switches and to fight back just long enough to get those switches installed and as many of our men out of there. If I'm right we’ll end up taking out more of their troops..."
"No," Reila hissed loudly enough for her voice to carry to the speakers. "I can't put our men at risk. We have to shoot them down before they land." Shoot them down... Reila twirled a few strands of hair around her finger, lost in thought deep enough to miss Ayden paving through those in her office straight at her. She looked up when he got close enough.
"Ma'am."
...
"It's been too long since there's been a good fight about, don't you agree, Reila?" Agree? Good fight? Fight? This was a war. People were going to die. How could 'good' be associated anywhere near what this was. She shook her head, looking lost for a moment. They had to shoot down the Drachman's helicopters as they came; it was the only way to prevent getting ripped out from the inside. Her eyes scoured the white early morning sky, just barely brightened enough to see. One story up and she'd be on the roof. How much longer did they have before the enemy swooped in?
Shoes on metal resounded suddenly, making Reila wing around with her fingertips brushing through the air, alchemy at the ready. Funny, how ice was still what she resorted to first and foremost; not a tachi, not wind, not anythi-- Wind--wind and helicopters. Idea. "Ma'am," The footsteps belonged to Akito, luckily not an enemy having already landed despite them watching the sky. Luckily, but what he was saying was not lucky at all: "I just recently noticed someone near the fort who looked like they were messing around with some garbage. I don't know why. I figured coming to tell you in person was more discreet than using the radi-- Wait, I need to do something now, before I have to do anything else."
"What is with you people and calling me M'am!?" Wait, garbage? That sounded like a high school prank. Who was this someone messing with the trash? Regardless, it sounded suspicious--something to look into. Akito bent down to transmute some materials around his coat on the frost-covered ground. Reila didn't wait for him to finish before speaking once more. "And why are you here telling me instead of investigating the matter? I assure you our radio line is secure. The only ones who have access to it are in Central or South City. Now stop meandering around and go!" She turned on her heel back to Ayden with a harsh look. "But thank you for being observant." This, of course, was not only a compliment in Akito's favor, but also a reprimand at Ayden's lack of sense by calling what was unfolding a fight...instead of what it really was: a war for survival--survival of the fittest.
Sleet. Sleet pattering on the windows, hammering like butterfly wings on the silence after a storm. Faint rumbling, the cries of the falling like the ripples of raindrops dispersing into nothing. It was gunfire--gunfire and her men in the hall being stripped of their lives. But how!? "There's my call~!" Ayden chimed like a child at a parade, scampering off into the fray. There was something missing--some tidbit of information misplaced in the frenzy of what was to come. No one had landed atop the fortress. No one. Yet, rounds were being exchanged, yells of pain were running rancid down her halls. People were dying. The monitor with Mura on it fuzzed out with disturbance as their radios buzzed to life with calls for reinforcements all over the entire base. Every corner. Somehow, every corner was infiltrated by the invisible enemy. How. How did they get in. In the flurry of terror that rushed through every vein in Reila's body, her phone rang silently against her thigh. The sensation that people were still alive enough to call her dragged her mind out of the frozen state of shock it had plummeted into.
"I just got out of a tussle with a damn Drachman infiltrator, about a hundred feet from my room. I'm going to head to the arms development room and make sure its completely locked up. I might bring some armaments along too. I'll meet you, wherever you are. Keep... keep safe. I'll keep in contact. I... I love you." Infiltrator. At first, Dai's voice was just another voice telling her there were others alive in the world, but soon transgressed into something more--something indescribable that boosted hope upon unhallowed ground. Infiltrator. Her hand squeezed the phone as the dial tone strummed into her consciousness.
"I love you too," she whispered while silence gathered once again. It was time to move. It they weren't coming by helicopter and if they had somehow already made it inside, their means did not matter. Reila had to get them out. Her soldiers were ready, but in no form of formation, expecting the attack to hit dead against the walls as it always did. There were no holes. How did they get in!? Masquerade. Paper faces on parade. Reila nearly crumpled her phone into pieces instead of replacing it back into its holster. The entry system was hacked, carbon copies of the security card made. Faces--faces not Drachman, but RIOTE filtering into the halls they lived in everyday. How long was this planned? How did they manage...to--to pull this off?!
"This is Defense Officer Iris Tsukino. I am calling to alert that we are being attacked from the inside. I repe--Son of a bitch." Reila's radio crackled to life with a familiar voice. It was the girl new to her position whom Reila had hand-selected, but never saw in person. Attacked from the inside...by those who appeared to be of their own kind. Wolves in sheep's clothing. Hah, well, Mr. Peach got the wolves right at least. But what of the tiger? Reila dug through her pockets and drew out her wind transmutation circle, clasping the chain around her neck, and holding the pendant tightly in her hand. She stared upward just when a faint chugging rifled through the clouds, dark shadows gathering on the horizon. Gunshots continued to resound from inside the base. Caught between the two worlds, trapped in the doorway impassed by astonishment, Reila closed her eyes and dropped to the ground as if bowing before a god. The metal twisted under her hands, the platform groaning with the effort to keep holding her weight. A tachi was drawn straight out, glowing perfection--like magic into her grip. She stood up, eyes flickering open like a flame twisting taught in wind. She swung it immediately, a funnel forming in air, getting faster and faster until the circle around her neck glowed. Jagged streams of pure energy burst from her body, making her knees feel just as weak as the shaky platform that held her. The helicopters descended into sight...straight into a new kind of wall.
Blades met the harsh gusts of a tornado, bending the metal and throwing the aircrafts up into the spiral like toys. Explosions rocked the base from above when many of the helicopters collided. Jet looked horrified, like watching a sci-fi movie from hell. Her tornado wasn't growing quickly in the still air, draining more and more energy from the Lieutenant General than it should. The air was too cold--too solid and heavy to manipulate into the full growth of an F4 like she had in Drachma. Helicopters landed down, setting foot on her terrain, beyond the walls for the first time. Beyond the walls. Beyond the walls. A string of curses dripped from Reila's lips. She could do nothing else. Being lower down than they, her ice was useless from this distance. She turned her dwindling tornado across the roof devoid of any Briggs Brigade, leveling the helicopters too late. Droves of Drachmans already poured out like ants from a hill, dispersing from her reach. Reila threw the radio to her lips. "They got past me. I'm watching them as they enter...Briggs...from the roof. We've been compromised." Her words were soft, sullen, full of an emotion that was uncommon in her voice. "They are inside and they are--" A flash caught her eye across the way--a mere shimmer of a glint. Without hesitation, Reila drove her tachi into her arm, eyes blazing with such deep fury the entire level where she and Jet stood vibrated with anger. Sniper. The shot echoed, blazing off the mountain, and resounding through the dry sky. The large bullet that would have killed Jet, stopped some distance away, dropping moments later into the white expanse. But at the same time in which it had frozen in midair, Jet (and all of his metal armor) was thrown backwards as if the bullet repelled him. Instead, it had been Reila that repelled them both. She panted, eyes intense with hatred. Before the man fired again, Reila raised her sword with both hands high over her head, slamming the blade down in a cutting motion. It almost looked as though she were practicing her swings save for the aberrant strength behind this one and the thwap of alchemy propelling the sharp air forward towards the shape of a man. No cry followed--nothing but a warranted death.
Shakily, Reila turned to get inside, blood dripping down her arm like a small crimson river of the dead. The radio hung loosely at her lips, stagnant from when the sniper cut her off. "I'm evacing my personell off site with as much of our classified material as possible. The rest is being burned and shredded. Reila, we can either die here or fight our way out. They're attacking the outside, the roof, and inside with apparently our own soldiers and their commandos. I recommend combat personell to withdraw and retake Briggs. Colonel Dauthi, out." The screen had come back momentarily, then went black.
"They are inside and they are impersonating us," Reila continued into the radio, connected to all of Briggs. Ayden appeared next to her outside, walking in beside her. She shut the door behind him, blinking away the blood splashed across him and the severed hand he was toting. Her stomach churned and her vision spiked, but her voice didn't waver in the slightest. "Look closely at everyone's uniforms. We need to regroup pronto." But where?
"Attention any available soldiers, the medical ward needs help stat. We have wounded and sick who need to get evac immediately. Please respond. This is Dr. Cora Nikita. I repeat, we need aid."
"This is Colonel Dauthi, me and the entire Intelligence division are on our way. ETA, three minutes. Out."
"Evacuation at this point is suicide. I want all personnel to meet on the basement level. Yarid use the back up controls to set the armory and the base into lock down mode. I want no one getting in or out. Anything that compromises us must be destroyed; use the incinerator. The clearance code for the basement elevator is 467Bghz97w. I repeat the clearance code is 467Bghz97w for the elevator. It should take the enemy some time to decode it. We will regroup and form a tactical attack from there. Trust no one. This is a direct order." Who knew how long Fort Briggs had been infiltrated for. To Reila, it seemed as though the helicopters arriving and the attack by the impostors were supposed to in sync. It was by chance they were able to notice that the impersonators had been here before the helicopters arrived...or was that intentional--a kick in the face, a means to plummet morale? "Activate plan C60387. Passcode つらら氷柱 leave out no quadrants. You have twenty minutes to make it to the basement." She reached her office, opened a drawer, flipped over a book and, took a 100 yen coin and twisted it into a slot, and the drawer opened up into a control panel. Reila flipped a few switches and pulled a lever, turning to Ayden with a vibrant expression. "At least we know our soldiers are the ones covered in their blood."
Mura continued, "our best shot is to rig our defenses to explode on switches and to fight back just long enough to get those switches installed and as many of our men out of there. If I'm right we’ll end up taking out more of their troops..."
"No," Reila hissed loudly enough for her voice to carry to the speakers. "I can't put our men at risk. We have to shoot them down before they land." Shoot them down... Reila twirled a few strands of hair around her finger, lost in thought deep enough to miss Ayden paving through those in her office straight at her. She looked up when he got close enough.
"Ma'am."
...
"It's been too long since there's been a good fight about, don't you agree, Reila?" Agree? Good fight? Fight? This was a war. People were going to die. How could 'good' be associated anywhere near what this was. She shook her head, looking lost for a moment. They had to shoot down the Drachman's helicopters as they came; it was the only way to prevent getting ripped out from the inside. Her eyes scoured the white early morning sky, just barely brightened enough to see. One story up and she'd be on the roof. How much longer did they have before the enemy swooped in?
Shoes on metal resounded suddenly, making Reila wing around with her fingertips brushing through the air, alchemy at the ready. Funny, how ice was still what she resorted to first and foremost; not a tachi, not wind, not anythi-- Wind--wind and helicopters. Idea. "Ma'am," The footsteps belonged to Akito, luckily not an enemy having already landed despite them watching the sky. Luckily, but what he was saying was not lucky at all: "I just recently noticed someone near the fort who looked like they were messing around with some garbage. I don't know why. I figured coming to tell you in person was more discreet than using the radi-- Wait, I need to do something now, before I have to do anything else."
"What is with you people and calling me M'am!?" Wait, garbage? That sounded like a high school prank. Who was this someone messing with the trash? Regardless, it sounded suspicious--something to look into. Akito bent down to transmute some materials around his coat on the frost-covered ground. Reila didn't wait for him to finish before speaking once more. "And why are you here telling me instead of investigating the matter? I assure you our radio line is secure. The only ones who have access to it are in Central or South City. Now stop meandering around and go!" She turned on her heel back to Ayden with a harsh look. "But thank you for being observant." This, of course, was not only a compliment in Akito's favor, but also a reprimand at Ayden's lack of sense by calling what was unfolding a fight...instead of what it really was: a war for survival--survival of the fittest.
Sleet. Sleet pattering on the windows, hammering like butterfly wings on the silence after a storm. Faint rumbling, the cries of the falling like the ripples of raindrops dispersing into nothing. It was gunfire--gunfire and her men in the hall being stripped of their lives. But how!? "There's my call~!" Ayden chimed like a child at a parade, scampering off into the fray. There was something missing--some tidbit of information misplaced in the frenzy of what was to come. No one had landed atop the fortress. No one. Yet, rounds were being exchanged, yells of pain were running rancid down her halls. People were dying. The monitor with Mura on it fuzzed out with disturbance as their radios buzzed to life with calls for reinforcements all over the entire base. Every corner. Somehow, every corner was infiltrated by the invisible enemy. How. How did they get in. In the flurry of terror that rushed through every vein in Reila's body, her phone rang silently against her thigh. The sensation that people were still alive enough to call her dragged her mind out of the frozen state of shock it had plummeted into.
"I just got out of a tussle with a damn Drachman infiltrator, about a hundred feet from my room. I'm going to head to the arms development room and make sure its completely locked up. I might bring some armaments along too. I'll meet you, wherever you are. Keep... keep safe. I'll keep in contact. I... I love you." Infiltrator. At first, Dai's voice was just another voice telling her there were others alive in the world, but soon transgressed into something more--something indescribable that boosted hope upon unhallowed ground. Infiltrator. Her hand squeezed the phone as the dial tone strummed into her consciousness.
"I love you too," she whispered while silence gathered once again. It was time to move. It they weren't coming by helicopter and if they had somehow already made it inside, their means did not matter. Reila had to get them out. Her soldiers were ready, but in no form of formation, expecting the attack to hit dead against the walls as it always did. There were no holes. How did they get in!? Masquerade. Paper faces on parade. Reila nearly crumpled her phone into pieces instead of replacing it back into its holster. The entry system was hacked, carbon copies of the security card made. Faces--faces not Drachman, but RIOTE filtering into the halls they lived in everyday. How long was this planned? How did they manage...to--to pull this off?!
"This is Defense Officer Iris Tsukino. I am calling to alert that we are being attacked from the inside. I repe--Son of a bitch." Reila's radio crackled to life with a familiar voice. It was the girl new to her position whom Reila had hand-selected, but never saw in person. Attacked from the inside...by those who appeared to be of their own kind. Wolves in sheep's clothing. Hah, well, Mr. Peach got the wolves right at least. But what of the tiger? Reila dug through her pockets and drew out her wind transmutation circle, clasping the chain around her neck, and holding the pendant tightly in her hand. She stared upward just when a faint chugging rifled through the clouds, dark shadows gathering on the horizon. Gunshots continued to resound from inside the base. Caught between the two worlds, trapped in the doorway impassed by astonishment, Reila closed her eyes and dropped to the ground as if bowing before a god. The metal twisted under her hands, the platform groaning with the effort to keep holding her weight. A tachi was drawn straight out, glowing perfection--like magic into her grip. She stood up, eyes flickering open like a flame twisting taught in wind. She swung it immediately, a funnel forming in air, getting faster and faster until the circle around her neck glowed. Jagged streams of pure energy burst from her body, making her knees feel just as weak as the shaky platform that held her. The helicopters descended into sight...straight into a new kind of wall.
Blades met the harsh gusts of a tornado, bending the metal and throwing the aircrafts up into the spiral like toys. Explosions rocked the base from above when many of the helicopters collided. Jet looked horrified, like watching a sci-fi movie from hell. Her tornado wasn't growing quickly in the still air, draining more and more energy from the Lieutenant General than it should. The air was too cold--too solid and heavy to manipulate into the full growth of an F4 like she had in Drachma. Helicopters landed down, setting foot on her terrain, beyond the walls for the first time. Beyond the walls. Beyond the walls. A string of curses dripped from Reila's lips. She could do nothing else. Being lower down than they, her ice was useless from this distance. She turned her dwindling tornado across the roof devoid of any Briggs Brigade, leveling the helicopters too late. Droves of Drachmans already poured out like ants from a hill, dispersing from her reach. Reila threw the radio to her lips. "They got past me. I'm watching them as they enter...Briggs...from the roof. We've been compromised." Her words were soft, sullen, full of an emotion that was uncommon in her voice. "They are inside and they are--" A flash caught her eye across the way--a mere shimmer of a glint. Without hesitation, Reila drove her tachi into her arm, eyes blazing with such deep fury the entire level where she and Jet stood vibrated with anger. Sniper. The shot echoed, blazing off the mountain, and resounding through the dry sky. The large bullet that would have killed Jet, stopped some distance away, dropping moments later into the white expanse. But at the same time in which it had frozen in midair, Jet (and all of his metal armor) was thrown backwards as if the bullet repelled him. Instead, it had been Reila that repelled them both. She panted, eyes intense with hatred. Before the man fired again, Reila raised her sword with both hands high over her head, slamming the blade down in a cutting motion. It almost looked as though she were practicing her swings save for the aberrant strength behind this one and the thwap of alchemy propelling the sharp air forward towards the shape of a man. No cry followed--nothing but a warranted death.
Shakily, Reila turned to get inside, blood dripping down her arm like a small crimson river of the dead. The radio hung loosely at her lips, stagnant from when the sniper cut her off. "I'm evacing my personell off site with as much of our classified material as possible. The rest is being burned and shredded. Reila, we can either die here or fight our way out. They're attacking the outside, the roof, and inside with apparently our own soldiers and their commandos. I recommend combat personell to withdraw and retake Briggs. Colonel Dauthi, out." The screen had come back momentarily, then went black.
"They are inside and they are impersonating us," Reila continued into the radio, connected to all of Briggs. Ayden appeared next to her outside, walking in beside her. She shut the door behind him, blinking away the blood splashed across him and the severed hand he was toting. Her stomach churned and her vision spiked, but her voice didn't waver in the slightest. "Look closely at everyone's uniforms. We need to regroup pronto." But where?
"Attention any available soldiers, the medical ward needs help stat. We have wounded and sick who need to get evac immediately. Please respond. This is Dr. Cora Nikita. I repeat, we need aid."
"This is Colonel Dauthi, me and the entire Intelligence division are on our way. ETA, three minutes. Out."
"Evacuation at this point is suicide. I want all personnel to meet on the basement level. Yarid use the back up controls to set the armory and the base into lock down mode. I want no one getting in or out. Anything that compromises us must be destroyed; use the incinerator. The clearance code for the basement elevator is 467Bghz97w. I repeat the clearance code is 467Bghz97w for the elevator. It should take the enemy some time to decode it. We will regroup and form a tactical attack from there. Trust no one. This is a direct order." Who knew how long Fort Briggs had been infiltrated for. To Reila, it seemed as though the helicopters arriving and the attack by the impostors were supposed to in sync. It was by chance they were able to notice that the impersonators had been here before the helicopters arrived...or was that intentional--a kick in the face, a means to plummet morale? "Activate plan C60387. Passcode つらら氷柱 leave out no quadrants. You have twenty minutes to make it to the basement." She reached her office, opened a drawer, flipped over a book and, took a 100 yen coin and twisted it into a slot, and the drawer opened up into a control panel. Reila flipped a few switches and pulled a lever, turning to Ayden with a vibrant expression. "At least we know our soldiers are the ones covered in their blood."
Reila Tsukino- Posts : 2269
Points : 1089
Location : Fort Briggs
-Case File-
Level: ∞
Rank:
Writer:
FORT BRIGGS - WATCHTOWER: Mura, Reila, Jet, Akito
by Guest Fri Jul 06, 2012 9:01 pm
On his way back up to the watchtower, Ayden had passed his room, and dropped off a few things. Including Typhon. Now, he was only lugging around the Twins, his Fangs, the Children, Echidna, and Andromeda, the SMG slung over his back that hung by his side. As much good as the shotgun was, with frag rounds, it was too destructive to be considered ideal - the MP5K was a feline at close range, too, and Ayden had lusted to lay his fingers upon that engraved frame at least once more in a heated scenario like this.
Ascending up the stairs, he clutched Valeria's severed and paling appendage in one hand and his gun in the other, tossing the hand up in the air and catching it, giggling childishly as he squeezed it a touch too hard every time he caught it, a fresh spray of blood hissing out and spattering the walls. "Look closely at everyone's uniforms. We need to regroup pronto." Because close-up inspection of the uniforms was really going to help soldiers with the air whistling through an exit wound in their forehead.
"Hi, Reila!" Ayden grinned, putting on a false beam, raising his hand and Valeria's too, with it. "Do you, perhaps..." A giggle escaped his lips. "Need a hand!?" With that over and done with, he chuckled, and tucked the wounded appendage back into his jacket pocket. The veins were sealing up, the fingers thin and ghastly pale as the skin seemed to hang from the very bone. It had almost been wrung dry of all the lifeblood within.
Taking a quick scan of the situation from the tower's windows with his hawk's eyes, he couldn't pick out any immediate threats, but these Drachman Kuvalda were renowned, or, so he heard from some of his contacts, for their lethality and deadly adaptability. That's why, when they had struck, they had struck hard, fast, and relentlessly. And that's why Briggs were faltering, despite their iron-hard reputation for success. "Hm," Ayden's expression fell. "Guess I didn't kill enough of the bastards," He hissed, going from manic to demented once more; the monster lashed at his binds.
"Evacuation at this point is suicide. I want all personnel to meet on the basement level. Yarid use the back up controls to set the armory and the base into lock down mode. I want no one getting in or out. Anything that compromises us must be destroyed; use the incinerator. The clearance code for the basement elevator is 467Bghz97w. I repeat the clearance code is 467Bghz97w for the elevator. It should take the enemy some time to decode it. We will regroup and form a tactical attack from there. Trust no one. This is a direct order." Ayden absent-mindedly scratched at a streak of dry blood on his face, chipping it off with his nail. The damnable liquid, as beautifully artistic as it was, stained, and was rather itchy after a moment or so. He feigned a pout then began a brisk walk, following Reila into the watchtower, humming the simplest symphony that came to mind idly.
"At least we know our soldiers are the ones covered in their blood." She was perhaps the only General in all of Amestris whose command it was an honour to be beneath. He didn't bother with the salute. The assassin-General Derocha answered to no-one in that manner, and only smiled uncannily, the manic facade dropping to a limbo between the two absolute polarities, one he could only maintain momentarily before finally, it cracked, and he spouted into laughter or a spew of threats.
"That may be so, Miss Tsukino," Ayden muttered, mind affixed somewhere else, drawing back the bolt on Andromeda and making sure everything was in order, before finally flicking off the safety, and pulling the pin down to 'fully automatic', a stream of relentless bullets etched out in a simple, flowing, white-paint diagram. "But as you are undoubtedly aware, outnumbered as we may be," He rose the sub-machine gun up, pressing the hind of it into his shoulder, clutching the grip with one hand and the trigger with another. He aimed down the ironsights with a wicked smile, and that dancing expression of bloody murder flat upon his face. "Briggs is never outgunned."
He let the sub-machine gun fall flat, the degree of maintenance adequate enough for he; the weapon was working just about fine. Turning around and cackling madly, he allowed a steady stream of giggles to protrude forth with a smile. Pivoting on one foot, and extending his hand after a faux bow, he gestured with a sweep back towards the corridors. "Now, I do believe that we've got an exit to carve our way towards, and some filthy Drachman dogs who are just begging for a bullet in the head," He commented, almost as if it were regrettable that they had to leave, with a put-on upper-class tone hanging from and clinging to his voice. That trademark Derocha smile curved its way upwards, and his pearly-white teeth showed through, the office awash with deep yellow light, slivers of the artificial glow refracting off of his teeth, and illuminating that wild streak, that wicked, flickering flame, in those cerulean eyes. He twirled his hand a couple more times, before finally bending his back in mock subservience. "Shall we, dear friend?"
Ascending up the stairs, he clutched Valeria's severed and paling appendage in one hand and his gun in the other, tossing the hand up in the air and catching it, giggling childishly as he squeezed it a touch too hard every time he caught it, a fresh spray of blood hissing out and spattering the walls. "Look closely at everyone's uniforms. We need to regroup pronto." Because close-up inspection of the uniforms was really going to help soldiers with the air whistling through an exit wound in their forehead.
"Hi, Reila!" Ayden grinned, putting on a false beam, raising his hand and Valeria's too, with it. "Do you, perhaps..." A giggle escaped his lips. "Need a hand!?" With that over and done with, he chuckled, and tucked the wounded appendage back into his jacket pocket. The veins were sealing up, the fingers thin and ghastly pale as the skin seemed to hang from the very bone. It had almost been wrung dry of all the lifeblood within.
Taking a quick scan of the situation from the tower's windows with his hawk's eyes, he couldn't pick out any immediate threats, but these Drachman Kuvalda were renowned, or, so he heard from some of his contacts, for their lethality and deadly adaptability. That's why, when they had struck, they had struck hard, fast, and relentlessly. And that's why Briggs were faltering, despite their iron-hard reputation for success. "Hm," Ayden's expression fell. "Guess I didn't kill enough of the bastards," He hissed, going from manic to demented once more; the monster lashed at his binds.
"Evacuation at this point is suicide. I want all personnel to meet on the basement level. Yarid use the back up controls to set the armory and the base into lock down mode. I want no one getting in or out. Anything that compromises us must be destroyed; use the incinerator. The clearance code for the basement elevator is 467Bghz97w. I repeat the clearance code is 467Bghz97w for the elevator. It should take the enemy some time to decode it. We will regroup and form a tactical attack from there. Trust no one. This is a direct order." Ayden absent-mindedly scratched at a streak of dry blood on his face, chipping it off with his nail. The damnable liquid, as beautifully artistic as it was, stained, and was rather itchy after a moment or so. He feigned a pout then began a brisk walk, following Reila into the watchtower, humming the simplest symphony that came to mind idly.
"At least we know our soldiers are the ones covered in their blood." She was perhaps the only General in all of Amestris whose command it was an honour to be beneath. He didn't bother with the salute. The assassin-General Derocha answered to no-one in that manner, and only smiled uncannily, the manic facade dropping to a limbo between the two absolute polarities, one he could only maintain momentarily before finally, it cracked, and he spouted into laughter or a spew of threats.
"That may be so, Miss Tsukino," Ayden muttered, mind affixed somewhere else, drawing back the bolt on Andromeda and making sure everything was in order, before finally flicking off the safety, and pulling the pin down to 'fully automatic', a stream of relentless bullets etched out in a simple, flowing, white-paint diagram. "But as you are undoubtedly aware, outnumbered as we may be," He rose the sub-machine gun up, pressing the hind of it into his shoulder, clutching the grip with one hand and the trigger with another. He aimed down the ironsights with a wicked smile, and that dancing expression of bloody murder flat upon his face. "Briggs is never outgunned."
He let the sub-machine gun fall flat, the degree of maintenance adequate enough for he; the weapon was working just about fine. Turning around and cackling madly, he allowed a steady stream of giggles to protrude forth with a smile. Pivoting on one foot, and extending his hand after a faux bow, he gestured with a sweep back towards the corridors. "Now, I do believe that we've got an exit to carve our way towards, and some filthy Drachman dogs who are just begging for a bullet in the head," He commented, almost as if it were regrettable that they had to leave, with a put-on upper-class tone hanging from and clinging to his voice. That trademark Derocha smile curved its way upwards, and his pearly-white teeth showed through, the office awash with deep yellow light, slivers of the artificial glow refracting off of his teeth, and illuminating that wild streak, that wicked, flickering flame, in those cerulean eyes. He twirled his hand a couple more times, before finally bending his back in mock subservience. "Shall we, dear friend?"
Guest- Guest
FORT BRIGGS > HALLWAYS: Listora > DRACHMA SIDE DOOR: Listora > BASEMENT: Briggs Brigade
by Dai Sat Jul 07, 2012 12:20 am
The breeze quickly whipped its way past his head, narrowly missing it and almost giving him a completely new ear-style to go with his shortened hair. However, instead of flinching, he simply stopped walking; looking at the destruction that the suddenly apparent flash of light wrought upon the stone in front of him. As an Alchemist that was specifically suited to using electromagnetism, Daigoro Ito had studied into the very deepest depths of electromagnetic phenomena. The flash of light, the energy that it brought out, it was most certainly photonic. Chuckling quietly to himself, the male placed his hands into his pockets and slowly turned towards what he assumed would have been the one to fire the attack off at him. Imagine his surprise when he turned around and faced a child, not much older than 9 years old, standing in front of him. Violet locks hung at the side of his head, and the outstretched palms meant that he had just performed some sort of Alchemy. The shortened hair of Daigoro Ito moved slightly with his head as it lowered itself down a little, the male sighing quietly. He didn't fight children, but it looked like he wasn't getting out of this one so easily. "Why did you kill Reznov?" Well, this was going to be fun to explain.
"He was just doing his job. We were going to get ice cream after all this stuff! Not fair!" The man shook his head slightly, chuckling. "Don't misunderstand. I didn't want to kill him, but... he wanted to kill me. I was just surviving... that's what it is all about, up here in Briggs. 'Survival of the Fittest'." As Daigoro spoke that, he knelt down in front of the child, slipping his hand out of his pocket and quickly clicking his gloved fingers, making sure he had his own magnetic field outwardly pressing. As long as that was the case, then he would be able to protect himself from the kid's light flashes. As he reached eye level with the excessively-short child, his darkened expression suddenly changed--a kind smile shone at the boy. "C'mon. Even if you're some powerful soldier in Drachma's military, it's not fair on you to be fighting. Death, the stench of gunsmoke... it's not right for someone your age to be in the midst of all of this. If you want ice cream, then I can get you some... Just... can you not... fight? I don't know what possessed Vanity to even consider sending someone like you out onto the battlefield. It's not kind, and it's certainly not the way Drachma should be fighting us..." As he slowly got to his feet once more, he looked back down at Listora, with a genuine visage of kindness, even though his face was framed by hair that looked like it belonged to a beastman.
A shot rang out, the sound of a sniper firing from a distance. At that moment, the male turned his body and stopped. No, there was no need to worry. Instead, he would deal with this issue, and this issue alone. He didn't want a child fighting the battle that adults fought. There was never any need for such foolishness in this day and age.
"Evacuation at this point is suicide. I want all personnel to meet on the basement level." An announcement. Reila. Turning slightly more, the man bit his bottom lip a little. "The clearance code for the basement elevator is 467Bghz97w. I repeat the clearance code is 467Bghz97w for the elevator. It should take the enemy some time to decode it. We will regroup and form a tactical attack from there. Trust no one. This is a direct order." Tch. Closing his eyes slightly, the male placed his hands into his pockets and turned back to Kean. "Not long to decide, mate. We don't seem to have much ti--"""Activate plan C60387. Passcode つらら氷柱 leave out no quadrants. You have twenty minutes to make it to the basement." Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Alright, Dai, get a hold of yourself. Letting out a long exhalation of air, the man looked quietly at Kean with a more dangerous expression. "I don't care that you're a Drachman, you're just a kid. I'm not letting you die in here." Without warning, Dai leaned down and grabbed Kean around the waist, hoisting him over his shoulder. A soft smile crossed over his lips. "Trust me."
Suddenly, he pushed off, running through the familiar hallways and towards a door--not the Amestrian side, but the Drachman side. He would take this child, let him go free and then head straight for the basement. He didn't care that he was Drachman. Never would. As he ran for the door, he found himself ticking away the minutes in his mind. Seven minutes passed before Dai had Kean at the door, letting him down with a smile on his lips. "Go. Go home, and wait until this fight is over. Then come back and ask for Daigoro. I'll take you out for some ice cream, okay?" He wasn't sure that it'd work, but as he tilted his head to the side he couldn't help but feel like he was doing something right. "If you go back inside, you will die, okay? So run. Get out of here. It'll be okay." He smiled brightly and went back into the building, closing the door behind him. The child would be okay. He didn't doubt his survival capabilities. As soon as he was away from the door, he ran straight for the basement, passing by Drachmans and ignoring them--passing by Briggs soldiers, ignoring them too. As he reached the elevator, he noticed a few men whispering among themselves--speaking in Drachman as they tried to hack the elevator. Sighing softly, Dai shook his head and slipped the SPAS-12 out. Again, he didn't like it. But there was no way he was going to let them try and hack into the elevator. Turning towards him, the men raised their hands and started to speak in heavily accented Amestrian.
"C-comrade! We're on your side!" He sighed. "Really? What does plan C60387 do, then? Every Briggs Soldier knows this." The men looked among themselves for a brief second, before shaking their heads and lunging. Too slowly, though. Three pulls of the trigger later, and the men were on the ground and bleeding out. That was a bother, alright. Stepping over them, he pressed a few buttons on the elevator control panel--making sure specifically to spell out the code they'd been given. Waiting for a few seconds, the doors opened and Dai stepped in to greet a few other, confused-looking Amestrians--one who pointed at his hair and basically asked what the hell had happened. "Tousle. No more.." And as the elevator descended into the depths, Dai had to wonder. Would the kid be alright?
"He was just doing his job. We were going to get ice cream after all this stuff! Not fair!" The man shook his head slightly, chuckling. "Don't misunderstand. I didn't want to kill him, but... he wanted to kill me. I was just surviving... that's what it is all about, up here in Briggs. 'Survival of the Fittest'." As Daigoro spoke that, he knelt down in front of the child, slipping his hand out of his pocket and quickly clicking his gloved fingers, making sure he had his own magnetic field outwardly pressing. As long as that was the case, then he would be able to protect himself from the kid's light flashes. As he reached eye level with the excessively-short child, his darkened expression suddenly changed--a kind smile shone at the boy. "C'mon. Even if you're some powerful soldier in Drachma's military, it's not fair on you to be fighting. Death, the stench of gunsmoke... it's not right for someone your age to be in the midst of all of this. If you want ice cream, then I can get you some... Just... can you not... fight? I don't know what possessed Vanity to even consider sending someone like you out onto the battlefield. It's not kind, and it's certainly not the way Drachma should be fighting us..." As he slowly got to his feet once more, he looked back down at Listora, with a genuine visage of kindness, even though his face was framed by hair that looked like it belonged to a beastman.
A shot rang out, the sound of a sniper firing from a distance. At that moment, the male turned his body and stopped. No, there was no need to worry. Instead, he would deal with this issue, and this issue alone. He didn't want a child fighting the battle that adults fought. There was never any need for such foolishness in this day and age.
"Evacuation at this point is suicide. I want all personnel to meet on the basement level." An announcement. Reila. Turning slightly more, the man bit his bottom lip a little. "The clearance code for the basement elevator is 467Bghz97w. I repeat the clearance code is 467Bghz97w for the elevator. It should take the enemy some time to decode it. We will regroup and form a tactical attack from there. Trust no one. This is a direct order." Tch. Closing his eyes slightly, the male placed his hands into his pockets and turned back to Kean. "Not long to decide, mate. We don't seem to have much ti--"""Activate plan C60387. Passcode つらら氷柱 leave out no quadrants. You have twenty minutes to make it to the basement." Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Alright, Dai, get a hold of yourself. Letting out a long exhalation of air, the man looked quietly at Kean with a more dangerous expression. "I don't care that you're a Drachman, you're just a kid. I'm not letting you die in here." Without warning, Dai leaned down and grabbed Kean around the waist, hoisting him over his shoulder. A soft smile crossed over his lips. "Trust me."
Suddenly, he pushed off, running through the familiar hallways and towards a door--not the Amestrian side, but the Drachman side. He would take this child, let him go free and then head straight for the basement. He didn't care that he was Drachman. Never would. As he ran for the door, he found himself ticking away the minutes in his mind. Seven minutes passed before Dai had Kean at the door, letting him down with a smile on his lips. "Go. Go home, and wait until this fight is over. Then come back and ask for Daigoro. I'll take you out for some ice cream, okay?" He wasn't sure that it'd work, but as he tilted his head to the side he couldn't help but feel like he was doing something right. "If you go back inside, you will die, okay? So run. Get out of here. It'll be okay." He smiled brightly and went back into the building, closing the door behind him. The child would be okay. He didn't doubt his survival capabilities. As soon as he was away from the door, he ran straight for the basement, passing by Drachmans and ignoring them--passing by Briggs soldiers, ignoring them too. As he reached the elevator, he noticed a few men whispering among themselves--speaking in Drachman as they tried to hack the elevator. Sighing softly, Dai shook his head and slipped the SPAS-12 out. Again, he didn't like it. But there was no way he was going to let them try and hack into the elevator. Turning towards him, the men raised their hands and started to speak in heavily accented Amestrian.
"C-comrade! We're on your side!" He sighed. "Really? What does plan C60387 do, then? Every Briggs Soldier knows this." The men looked among themselves for a brief second, before shaking their heads and lunging. Too slowly, though. Three pulls of the trigger later, and the men were on the ground and bleeding out. That was a bother, alright. Stepping over them, he pressed a few buttons on the elevator control panel--making sure specifically to spell out the code they'd been given. Waiting for a few seconds, the doors opened and Dai stepped in to greet a few other, confused-looking Amestrians--one who pointed at his hair and basically asked what the hell had happened. "Tousle. No more.." And as the elevator descended into the depths, Dai had to wonder. Would the kid be alright?
Dai- Posts : 1014
Points : 87
FORT BRIGGS; Dai.
by Guest Sat Jul 07, 2012 1:43 am
Aww, he'd missed. The guy turned, seemingly about to attack Kean, but then- he stopped. The red-head man said some stuff, like about Reznov trying to kill him, and Kean really didn't understand it. "But... Nuh-uh, you guys are the bad guys! Ivanka said so... And the bad guys always lose and the good guys always win... But Reznov didn't win...." For a brief moment, Kean glanced down at the ground, sad. He'd liked Reznov... The Red-Head-Man moved forward. He walked over as Kean started to crack off another photon blast, but then he kneeled down and looked at Kean, smiling. Kean halted his alchemy, perplexed. Why wasn't the guy shooting Kean? Kean didn't WANT to be shot, yeah, but... But the bad gusy were supposed to shoot at the good guys, like in Star Wars and Transformers! It didn't feel right. Why was he getting special treatment from this red-haired murderer?
The guy's words were nice, too. Kean really was a powerful soldier, or at least, that's what Ivanka told him, but that it wasn't fair he was fighting? Why wasn't it fair? The men who found him told him it was a good thing, that he was fighting for a good reason, that Amestris WAS the bad guy! It didn't make sense... If Amestris was the bad guy, why was this guy being so nice? What about Enrya too, why had she been so nice? And Maya and Tracey... They were all nice to Kean, even Tracey, and Tracey hadn't even trusted Kean! Why... It just... It made no sense... He was supposed to be helping Drachma... They told him so...
But... Ice cream? The red-head man had ice cream? Kean's face, somber since he thought of Reznov as having been caught with his last life by Inky and Blinky in a fatal flanking, fourteen pellets to go, now lit up, as if he'd struck come across a shiny Pidgey! "Ice cream? Really, ice cream, you mean it!? Do you have chocolate, or peanut butter, but not strawberry, I don't like strawberry, but I like sherbert and-" He was cut off by an alert from some lady. Kean listened, and the man said he wouldn't let Kean die there. Well, that was reassuring! He couldn't very well eat ice cream if he was dead, could he? Well, Kean got snatched up, and scooped away in the best piggyback ride EVER! This guy was way cool!~ Like Charizard plus Optimus Prime, but with Thor's superpowers! And Captain Creta's shield! And Gelemort Man from The Punchline is Machismo, he was cool like him too!!
He explained what Kean had to do... The guy was Daigoro, and he lived here and he had ice cream, and Kean had to come back after the fighting stopped? That sounded easy enough! He started off and then a thought struck him. "Oh! Mr. Daigoro, hold on!" Placing his hands together, they flashed blue, and he fired a rather large blast of photons in the air. Purpose? To over-ride his bombs. If he blew them up, they'd kill everyone at Briggs, including Daigoro, and if Daigoro was mad at him, and lived, he wouldn't get ice cream! And who knew, maybe Drachma had photon guns lying around. Point being, he scattered the photons, and they SHOULD have hit the bombs he'd placed and deactivated them, as he'd willed. He flashed a thumbs up to Dai, smiling. "No more bombs." Daigoro then entered the room and Kean began to leave
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. Three gunshots from inside, and Kean froze. Darting back to the door, he peeked in. Good... Dai was safe, and the bad guys were the ones that got shot. Dai could safely get back to the rest of the good guys... Kean darted off, with a light clunk of the door, headed for Drachma, so he could get the ice cream later. In his rush, however, his radio fell, cutting his connection with Ivanka...
[EXIT MISSION]
The guy's words were nice, too. Kean really was a powerful soldier, or at least, that's what Ivanka told him, but that it wasn't fair he was fighting? Why wasn't it fair? The men who found him told him it was a good thing, that he was fighting for a good reason, that Amestris WAS the bad guy! It didn't make sense... If Amestris was the bad guy, why was this guy being so nice? What about Enrya too, why had she been so nice? And Maya and Tracey... They were all nice to Kean, even Tracey, and Tracey hadn't even trusted Kean! Why... It just... It made no sense... He was supposed to be helping Drachma... They told him so...
But... Ice cream? The red-head man had ice cream? Kean's face, somber since he thought of Reznov as having been caught with his last life by Inky and Blinky in a fatal flanking, fourteen pellets to go, now lit up, as if he'd struck come across a shiny Pidgey! "Ice cream? Really, ice cream, you mean it!? Do you have chocolate, or peanut butter, but not strawberry, I don't like strawberry, but I like sherbert and-" He was cut off by an alert from some lady. Kean listened, and the man said he wouldn't let Kean die there. Well, that was reassuring! He couldn't very well eat ice cream if he was dead, could he? Well, Kean got snatched up, and scooped away in the best piggyback ride EVER! This guy was way cool!~ Like Charizard plus Optimus Prime, but with Thor's superpowers! And Captain Creta's shield! And Gelemort Man from The Punchline is Machismo, he was cool like him too!!
He explained what Kean had to do... The guy was Daigoro, and he lived here and he had ice cream, and Kean had to come back after the fighting stopped? That sounded easy enough! He started off and then a thought struck him. "Oh! Mr. Daigoro, hold on!" Placing his hands together, they flashed blue, and he fired a rather large blast of photons in the air. Purpose? To over-ride his bombs. If he blew them up, they'd kill everyone at Briggs, including Daigoro, and if Daigoro was mad at him, and lived, he wouldn't get ice cream! And who knew, maybe Drachma had photon guns lying around. Point being, he scattered the photons, and they SHOULD have hit the bombs he'd placed and deactivated them, as he'd willed. He flashed a thumbs up to Dai, smiling. "No more bombs." Daigoro then entered the room and Kean began to leave
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. Three gunshots from inside, and Kean froze. Darting back to the door, he peeked in. Good... Dai was safe, and the bad guys were the ones that got shot. Dai could safely get back to the rest of the good guys... Kean darted off, with a light clunk of the door, headed for Drachma, so he could get the ice cream later. In his rush, however, his radio fell, cutting his connection with Ivanka...
[EXIT MISSION]
Guest- Guest
Sponsored content
Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2
Similar topics» MISSION: World War III: Peace and the Pestilence of RIOTE {2}
» MISSION: World War III: Peace and the Pestilence of RIOTE {4}
» MISSION: World War III: Peace and the Pestilence of RIOTE {3}
» MISSION: World War III: Peace and the Pestilence of RIOTE {Final Stand}
» MISSION: The Dissolution of Drachma and RIOTE's Rebirth
» MISSION: World War III: Peace and the Pestilence of RIOTE {4}
» MISSION: World War III: Peace and the Pestilence of RIOTE {3}
» MISSION: World War III: Peace and the Pestilence of RIOTE {Final Stand}
» MISSION: The Dissolution of Drachma and RIOTE's Rebirth
Page 1 of 2
Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
» Best wishes
» Simon Eris
» Pumpkin Spice
» BARBERSHOP BRUNCH, BRO'S.
» Training Private Daw (Open to Amestrian Militants Only)
» AKI'S NEW FORUM
» Baldursdóttir, Ymir [done]
» Practice Makes PERFECTION
» Just a Checkup