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 Posted: Sat Sep 11, 2010 10:36 pm
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Posted: Tue Sep 14, 2010 7:44 am
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Posted: Tue Sep 14, 2010 9:08 pm
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Posted: Wed Oct 06, 2010 8:12 pm
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Posted: Wed Oct 13, 2010 8:40 pm
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"Processing isn't far from here, fortunately." Brom huffed as they sprinted down the hall. "Shouldn't be too many people around, either. Most people don't hang out near the holding cells if they don't need to."
"Good. I'd rather have my weapon back as soon as possible. I feel naked without it." Ronin easily kept pace with the one armed wolf.
Who is this guy? He isn't even breathing hard. "It's right around this next corner!" He pointed at an intersection roughly twenty feet ahead of them.
Ronin lengthened his stride, and almost slid on the linoleum floor as he turned the corner. He stopped dead in front of the door that now faced him.
Brom shortly rounded the corner, and placed his hand on his right knee as he caught his breath. "Whoo... You must be in some kind of incredible shape. Yeah, that's the processing room. It's probably locked."
Ronin walked up to it. "I've recovered enough of my strength to at least do this." He placed his palms on the door, and focused his energy into them, releasing the energy in a force full burst. "Chaos Press!" The door nearly rocketed inward as the hinges and lock were unable to keep it in the frame.
Brom jumped back at the sight, then looked at Ronin suspiciously. "Remind me to never fight you again."
Ronin would have responded to the wolf's request, except that he was now staring at a cyan hedgehog with a flak jacket sitting in a chair just beyond where the door had landed.
"Stalker said you'd likely come here if'n you escaped, bub. I guess ya did." The hedgehog stood up and hefted his triple barreled turret and aimed it at Ronin. "I'm afraid this's as far as you'll go."
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Posted: Sun Oct 17, 2010 2:03 am
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As Nevermore approached the Emperor's office, two mobians standing guard at the doors saluted him rather enthusiastically. They were obviously not inclined to slack off while on duty. Not surprising, considering the leader of the entire Army was within speaking distance. Whether through fear or through dedication, they obeyed the simple procedure. He returned their salute and they opened the large double doors to allow him passage into the dimly lit room. They stood just inside the doors of the office, behind Nevermore; a routine precaution to ensure the Emperor's safety. Though the Emperor would likely be able to handle any such threat himself.
An awkward silence came over the room as they both became rather confused, visible by the inquiring looks on their faces. This was no doubt a result of Nevermore's lack of a salute to the Emperor upon entering the room. It's always in a robot's programming to follow such a formality. They stowed away their astonished faces as quickly as they had appeared, as they would not say a word. For to speak against a commanding officer, robotic or not, would likely land them on the frontlines rather than their current post; let alone the fact that the mobian on the other side of the room would most certainly not stand for such heresy. His mere presence hung over them like an ominous cloud.
The Emperor stood behind a dark red, wooden desk. It was well kept, only a single metal lamp and some files stacked neatly together rested atop its lacquered surface. He stood with his back turned to them, staring at a map of Arklow Fehl and the surrounding areas. Nevermore and the two men stood silently for a few moments, knowing full well not to interrupt his contemplation. The Emperor turned to face them, though he was staring down at one of the papers in a folder. He placed a hand atop the desk, his other hand tucked behind his back, giving off an air of elegance and command. He took his hand off the folders momentarily to motion a slight wave to the two men, signaling them to leave. The two quickly saluted the Emperor before returning to their posts outside the doors. He breathed in slightly before raising his gaze to Nevermore. "Now then. Report." |
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Posted: Sun Oct 17, 2010 2:55 am
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Nevermore described what had transpired during his mission in the city of Rapture. He informed him of the mass prison break and of his confrontation with a sword-bearing Hedgehog with unique abilities, leading to his eventual capture and placement under Master Sergeant Kenderson. Once the incident was made clear, Nevermore inquired about the mechanics that were found on the ravaged Titan model; particularly the green liquid that had been found.
“The Titan Model? It was so easily dispatched? That’s unfortunate. The initial reports showed such promise.”
The Emperor’s attention diverted completely away from his visitor, as though there were no one else in the room but he himself. He reached under his desk, pulling out a small sliding metal tray with a small office phone attached to it and pressed the talk button, patiently waiting for a response from the other line.
>Sir?<
“Sergeant. Send me the files of the scientists who were in charge of the Titan project. As well as the street addresses of their direct families.”
>Sir.<
The Emperor’s eyes met with the heavy shadows of Nevermore’s deep hood once more as he slid the tray back into its slot.
“The Titan Model was a prototype shell for a newly discovered possible power source. The thick, green liquid, the same that you encountered leaking from the Titan shell, seems to have the ability to take raw energy from another power source and multiply it, making the energy output far higher than the input. It also gives off its own unique energy, but it has yet to be harnessed. This substance is found only under very specific conditions, though our team of biologists is currently engaged in extensive research on how to create it artificially. It has been labeled as “Emeralite”, due to the substance’s appearance and possible connection to the gem. The Titan Prototype was built to test Emeralite as a performance boost, or accelerant of sorts. Tubes were used to send Emeralite throughout Titan’s body, giving it a sudden, powerful excess in energy. It truly is disappointing to hear that it was defeated so young. This was only its second mission. Pity.
On another note… This hedgehog… His abilities could serve my Army well. If he won’t be swayed, then the only other option is to capture him. These will be your new orders, then;
You will find and capture any such beings who oppose the New Order. All beings with unexplainable abilities or powers. Capture them. I want to study them… find their source of power.”
His organic eye glazed a little as he dreamt briefly of what could be.
“With it, I could --”
His eyes lowered to Nevermore’s vacant sleeve.
“Your hand, you lost it fighting the hedgehog? That simply won’t do. Report to the laboratory building for repairs.”
The Emperor thought for a moment before continuing.
“You’ll also be getting some upgrades. Mostly minor, though not all. I’ll inform the technicians of what will be necessary. Directly afterward, your new orders will take effect. Dismissed.”
At this, Nevermore turned and made his way to the door. Just as his hand touched the handle, the Emperor’s voice boomed once more.
“And Seth…”
The ominous white hooded figure became stock still.
“When you find them… You’re to bring them to me… Alive. No exceptions.”
Nevermore nodded once and exited the room, leaving the self-appointed Emperor to look over some files and make some… house calls.
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Posted: Wed Oct 20, 2010 8:14 pm
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Posted: Wed Nov 10, 2010 10:43 am
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Night struggled to pull her coat back over her. She might have been acclimated to the cold if she wasn't damp. She blinked a few times. It sounded like she was thinking, but she must have been asleep and woken up. Her hands weren't shivering now, easier to button her collar.
What the ******** just happened? They couldn't have been military. Too clumsily, too informal, no uniform.
Prioritize. What did they leave here?
In one motion she was on her feet. She stomped over to the small box. Honestly, no thought entered her head about regarding the kid's opinion. She plucked it up from him.
"Your friend." Shoot me. Next time I see them I hope their hungry for .9 mm...
She blinked. Simply thrown into it's cardboard enclosure was the most intricate key. Polished silver on a chain of little gears and trinkets; the craftsmanship was genius. She couldn't tell if it was really antique, but, with no doubt, it looked beautiful.
With it's beauty was complete impracticality.
She held it in front of her face, to be lit by the lantern. Yep, useless. Fragile. What a let down.
She kept staring forward. Toward the key, but not looking at it. It became a blur as her focus sharpened to what was behind it. A dark narrow hall. The lantern threw shadows over it where you couldn't what was past it.
...
Whatever he was hiding, protecting... it's back there isn't it?
And I supose that means I'm not allowed back there, isn't it.
She dropped the key into her pocket. Night picked the lantern up, stepping over the rabbit.
That's too bad, isn't it?
Only a few steps took through the narrow hall. Night rose the lantern over her head. On the opposite wall was a large gun rack. This seemed good, quite a wide range. .50 cal Desert Eagle, to a sawed off double barrel shotgun, a- Ooo, even SPAS-12. Damn they need cleaning.
Her eyes scanned around carefully. Nothing was really special, but something about this room was eerie from the papers and weapons. Something heavy lived here; something that made her feel like she had to be quiet in here.
All of this, his fight, the sphere, this room...
Alright! I admit it, I guess. I'm impressed... Did he do this all by himself?
She took baby steps inside, noting everything. All the papers made it look like the walls where made of words. What's the point of these.
Night followed the wall, running a finger over the paper's fading edges. Only glancing at the titles. Every one blazed a different echo of what's past.
Potential Mayor assassinated. Car bomb takes 14. Missing girl found dead. Body of drug dealer in ally.
They're... all murders.
At the end, the back corner, she stopped. Her finger rested in the middle of the headline.
The Snakes' Broken Fangs. Reading on:
"Yesterday night, the body of a wolf was discovered near the precinct in Rapture. Officer Dilbeck
shockingly uncovered the body in the dark on her way into her night shift. Authorities soon
ID'd the victim as the leader of Hijo de serpientes, Son of serpents, one of the violent gangs
in Rapture. Police have been in hunt for the Mobain for years. The large gash in the wolf's forehead
is the indicated cause of death, but not caused by a firearm.
She didn't need to hear the rest. She remembered suddenly. He was dumped there from another location, trying to leave town. But she'd never seen this article. She'd heard this somewhere else. Something personal.
She'd unconsciously slipped her hands into her coat pocket. She felt all the dents and scratches in the cover of the journal, including the marks from her teeth. She pulled it out and leafed trough. It was here... Half these pages and entries match. He didn't do this by himself, Feild was here.
*
..... My mission was to bring back some wolf to the precinct here at rapture, but this wolf turned out to be part of one of the many gangs here at rapture. This makes my job only twice as dangerous. When I found the guy he was right about to leave town to let the heat blow over him or something like that. I knew this was my last chance so I took my chances and did as my friend said I bite the bullet and took the shot. My arrow hit him straight in the forehead and knocked him out, my new rush arrows worked like a charm...
at least I got the bounty...
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Posted: Thu Nov 11, 2010 1:03 am
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The dust could be easily seen from miles overhead. The gorgeous black semi hurtled westward over the arid, hardened dirt, rock music blasting out the window.
MAN those two were… SOMETHING. How hick can you GET!?
Charlie remembered being so completely dumbstruck by the antics of the two deliverymen, that all he could do was stand there, staring at where they had gone, slack jawed and wide eyed. Utter disbelief slapped on his face.
“Whoop--!”
With some fast shifting and a heavy brake foot, Charlie managed to just miss a large, dried up, long dead bush. In the process of saving his new truck some scratches, he jackknifed the trailer, skidding to a dead stop in the middle of his own dust cloud. After sitting in his seat coughing his lungs out, he heard a large metal clunk. It matched the sound his heart made as it hit the inside of his stomach. He froze for a second, not daring to believe that the sound was what he thought it was. His eyes wide despite the light brown fog, he fumbled with the keys as he tried to shut off the semi. Finally, he managed to get the keys out of the ignition, swung the door open and leapt out of the driver’s seat. No sooner had his feet tapped the ground than he had launched himself in the direction of the trailer door, skidding to a stop, and kicking up even more dust, as he rounded the corner.
“No, come on, man… Do NOT tell me…”
He hesitated for just a second before hefting the huge door upward. When the door cleared his vision, his shoulders slumped and his demeanor fell to the ground. He hopped up into his “Harley-Holder”, as he’d dubbed it, and scowled at the sight in front of him.
There before him, leaning on the side of the trailer, no longer held by the “heavy duty” straps that he had been so careful to tie and tighten just right, was his beautiful bike.
His high performance, built to order, limited edition, vintage make, hand custom painted, high polished, immaculate Harley Davidsons Chopper.
Leaning on the side of the trailer.
“NOT okay… Aww MAN…”
He lifted his bike back onto its stand and examined the paint on the side that had hit the wall. It was spotless, save for one silver scratch about an inch and a half long, and the width of a hair.
“KRUMN!! STUPID STINKIN BUSH!! NOW I’m gonna have to find someone who’s qualified to FIX this! AAGG!!”
His fist connected with the wall, producing a dull, hollow sounding thunk, as well as a barely audible crunch.
“AAHH! KRUMN!!”
He winced as he pulled his hand back and shook it loosely, throwing a tiny spatter of blood on the undented wall. He pursed his lips around his bleeding knuckle for a second, trying to at least slow the bleeding, and busied himself with fixing the straps so they’d hold. After a few attempts and a good amount of frustration, he managed to get everything to hold together. With his face downturned and grumpy, he stomped his way back to the driver’s seat and climbed in. With a thunderous roar, he started it back up, closed all the windows and turned his radio off. He wasn’t in a good enough mood to listen to music at the moment. He hammered the gas, letting off of the clutch a bit soon, and the truck died on the spot.
“COME ON!! YOU STUPID PIECE OF…”
He mumbled things under his breath that would have sent him through the roof had Jeremy said them, and started the truck up once again.
He clenched his teeth and took off, eyebrows furrowed and white knuckled. With a slight red stain.
~~~~~~~
Charlie arrived at the large city only moments later, having made short work of the wastes by way of outright speeding. He had used so much gas barreling through the dirt that he barely made it to the first fill station just inside the city limits. After filling up (and realizing the difference in price on diesel fuel, this new truck seemed to have an aquarium tank instead of a gas tank), decided that he’d better find somewhere to get his bike looked at.
“Hey, hang on a sec!”
The kid at the pump stopped and looked back at Charlie, head cocked to one side and eyes only half open, clearly showing that he felt he had better things to do.
“Yeah?”
“Where am I gonna find a good- I mean really good detailer or mechanic? I need someone REALLY good.”
The kid lit up a bit at the question.
“What are ya workin on, man”?
Charlie smirked out the window at him before hopping out of the truck. He gestured for the kid to follow him and walked behind the trailer. When he hefted the door open, he grinned widely at the expression on the youth’s face.
“This is my baby! She’s a Limite--“
He was interrupted by several honks and cursing, and turned around to find several other cars waiting to get to the pumps.
“Jeeze! Keep yer shirts on! Heh… Well, within reason!”
He winked at the passenger of a little sedan, a cute little cat, probably only a bit younger than him. His smile grew at the sight of her blushing. He turned back to the other rivers, satisfied at her reaction.
“All right, all right. I’m goin! So, where to, bud?”
“Right! Just go down fourth for about six blocks, then turn left at the big Burger Haus sign and follow that road for about a mile. You hafta watch real close, her shop’s pretty small, but she’s the BEST around! She’ll hook ya up!”
“Sweet, thanks, kid!”
He hopped back into his truck and started it up. Cars were still honking at him, as he was blocking several pumps with his trailer. He pulled out, taking time to glance at the young cat once again, smiling and driving off at the sight of even her fur burning bright red.
He followed the kid’s directions to the letter. Except when he turned off a bit early and had to find a place to turn around. And when he had to find somewhere that had public restrooms. And then there was that cute little squirrel. But he was quite certain he was right back on the road he was supposed to be on.
Stupid kid… Can’t give any decent directions… Got me lost! Should’ve known this’d happen… Krumn.
Just as he was about to give up and find someone else to help him, he saw a little, run down shop. There was no parking lot, so he pulled to the sidewalk without a second thought. His truck stretched all the way from the mechanics shop to the end of the restaurant next door, blocking all possible parking spots. He hopped down and walked inside, looking around as he made his way to the counter. He rang the bell and waited for the mechanic to come out of the back. A tall orange echidna came out of the back and casually walked up to the counter, hips swaying ever so slightly.
“Hey, anything I can help you with”?
Yeah, I think I’m gonna like it here.
Y’know, yeah. I’m lookin for someone who knows what they’re doing to take a look at my bike. I mean someone who REALLY knows their stuff…”
He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head forward a bit, looking up at her slightly, and threw his signature half smirk her way.
“Any chance you can help me out? I’d love it if you could.”
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Posted: Thu Nov 25, 2010 11:08 am
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Blood dribbled down the side of Caden's lips, his pace quickened as he made a beeline home. Each step more unsure then the last. "Oh God, Why now? Why today of all times it had to be TODAY! Several seconds later Caden's front foot gave way. Out of the hundreds of people out on the streets around him no one stopped to help, in a city like this no one helped people with out a reason behind it. Infested with people with one goal, themselves nothing more nothing less. Caden didn't move he didn't want to, he just wanted to curl up and cease to be. His entire body rocked on the ground and a sickeningly deep cough came from his mouth. He looked up only to see the many people who were once just staring wide eyed at him start to go on with there day. Caden took there example and got up rather shakily, and started at a slow pace towards his apartment. Raising his arm to wipe the blood off his face he kept going.
Not even five minutes later he saw his apartment. His pace quickened again, his emotions were his worst enemy at this point not his sickness. They were chewing away at his insides, the memories of his smiling sisters and laughing parents. Just the thought made him want to stop everything and give everything he had to them... after all he didn't need it. Snapped out of his thoughts by the sight of his door. Pulling out his key, only to drop it because of another deep cough. These were not the cough of a healthy man, they sounded as if they were coming from the lower part of his chest. To his they felt like they came from his entire body. Slowly bending over to grab his key several drops of blood fell from his part opened mouth to the floor. Clamping his mouth shut to stop any more he grabbed the key off the floor stood up and jammed it into the keyhole.
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Posted: Fri Jan 07, 2011 11:32 am
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Ronin stared down the heavily armed soldier. His pulse quickened, he didn't think he could out run this guy's weapon. He didn't know much about guns, but he could tell by looking at his opponent that he would get hit. He quickly took in his surroundings for cover. There was a sturdy looking desk off to his right. It would have to do. He leaped for it.
Brom slid behind the door as the soldier inside hefted his weapon. Brom knew that soldier. He had been in his unit during the attack on Darkroot, and had since been recruited into the Special Forces. He knew he should get out of there, this Ronin's life could not possibly be worth so much effort.
"So yer gonna fight anyway? Fine, then." Jack shouted as he pressed down the trigger of his turret. Fifty caliber shells began to erupt from the barrels of the gun, chasing the fleeing hedgehog.
Ronin's right shoulder burst into pain as one of the projectiles clipped him. He grabbed at his shoulder as he landed and rolled behind the desk. This desk won't last long against that gun. If he has enough ammo, he'll get through. The sound of the desk being torn apart by the rounds was deafening. Ronin could barely think.
KER-CHUNK.
Jack looked down at the ammo intake for his gun. The belt had jammed. "Dammit!" He sighed. "Looks like you win this time. I have my orders." He sat back down in his chair. "Do whatever you like in there. I can't stop you." He waved them past himself.
Ronin couldn't believe what he was hearing, but there was no hint of a lie in the soldier's voice. He slowly stood up, and walked carefully towards where his sword leaned against a wall nearby. The other hedgehog made no move to stop him, or even pay attention to what he was doing. He grabbed his sword, and slipped the sheathe back on it's place on his belt. He looked around for a moment, and grabbed a weapon for the wolf who had freed him. It even seemed to be loaded.
He then made his way back to the door. Brom met him there. Ronin held the gun out to him. "Here."
Brom grabbed the gun. It was an M4A1. Pretty standard issue for the military, it made sense that it would have been the first thing Ronin would see to grab. "I may need this. Let's go."
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TrivialCipher Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon Jan 10, 2011 11:54 am
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It had no recollection of anything. Like today was it's first day existing...
S.A.M. had an objective though. and a location. Somehow, he had held onto that. His mission was to return to the Megaopolis base where his commanding officers would give him a new task. He knew this place, the coordinates were listed in the objective. S.A.M. did his best to stand upright, only to collapse from the loss of a tire. For minutes, S.A.M. treaded in a circle on the ground continuesly attempting to get into a mobile position. Until he planted his remaining arm into earth underneath it.
Location: Darkroot Forest
Status: Erased
He knew where he was, and where he had been for an unknown amount of time. He had the capacity to recognize that specific, important pieces of him were... not present. But not how to deal with it. But no matter how out of commision he was, he had to return to Megaopolis. He didn't know if he would ever be repaired, but it wasn't his concern. his mission was complete. That's all that mattered.
Slowly, using his arm as a crutch. S.A.M. wheeled away from the cabin. Yet again, the cabin was unknown. Everything was. He suspected that this assumption would become usual. Perhaps is superiors would inform him on what had happened. Perhaps not, probably not... Oh well.
S.A.M. stumbled through the forest in the direction of Megaopolis.
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Posted: Mon Jan 17, 2011 9:20 am
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Silence.
What was this taste in her mouth? Blood?
Night sat on an ammunition crate, dabbing her mouth. Bleeding. She had been biting her lip without noticing. It was the lone silence, it made her parodied. It could move through silence. That comforting black.
Cold as the end.
She swallowed what felt like the fist of clay in her throat. It isn't real here, she demanded herself, and she wouldn't think about it.
So instid her eyes again fell on the newspapers. She'd pulled off some of the interesting ones off the walls to see if she could match them in the journal. To push away her thoughts she reads:
It’s been a week since I got here and I’m labeled a serial killer. I took a job here and there not much. I’m even working with the cops, bunch of idiots, but they pay well. It’s kind of ironic the most wanted killer is working with the police. They are calling me the Grim Grinning Killer for some reason. It’s weird reading their side of it in their reports, gives you this insight which normally can’t be achieved.
But anyways, on to the more important matters! While I was on the street today and I saw this kid being chased by some local gang members, and one of 'em was a bounty so I killed 'em all. The kid was so filthy it made me think twice about even touching him. I walked up and took a picture of my target and went off. The kid followed me all over town his dirty face looking up to me in some form of envy and respect. He hadn’t spoke a word since I met him, and I wish he hadn’t because when he did I felt like hurting something. When he introduced himself I kept walking and ignored him that set him off real good. When I got back to the station he was gone but his name felt familiar… Davis was his name, I think. I’m sure I will see him again soon.
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Posted: Wed Jan 26, 2011 8:40 am
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Three men walked down the abandoned streets of rapture. The once crowded streets once full of life, now abandoned and full of rubble, death and decay. It was truly an odd sight a city with no people, those who were left hid under any rock they could find. This once great city had met a force so powerful, that it has nearly been wiped off the map. These three men were part of this force, part of the nameless military that had invaded. Out of those three only two could wear there uniform proudly, while the other must watch his back and steady his tone. This man is Rook Felid a gun for hire, and a soldier of fortune.
The other two were tailing Rook and talking amongst one another about there new sergeant, "John Able". The first to talk was the larger of the two, a great dane. Rook didn't really care for his name so he just called him what everyone else did, Mac. He may have been large but his size only covered for a lack of brains.... not much of a threat.
"Ey Mendoza I eard sarge was from forward base." The smaller of the two "Mendoza" was a short brown squirrel. He was everything Mac wasn't smart fast and had an anger as short as he was.
"Bull-s**t Mac, everybody knows no one made it out of forward base." Was the heated response of mendoza. The sarge hadn't turned around once the entire time they had been on this patrol. His eyes were trained on every little nook on cranny, he was looking for an excuse.
"Wull why don'tcha ask em yurslef?" Mendoza looked over to "John" and just as he opened his mouth John's hand shot up. It was the symbol to stop, both saw it and raised there guns forward.
"Alright men, we got a live one!!!" His voice was as rough as sand paper. Sure enough several second several figures dashed from behind a pile of rubble up the street in all directions. "Mendoza!! Mac!! We split up! I want them all dead or captured. We meet up here in three hours understood?"
"SIR YES SIR!" And with that his men followed the survivors. "John" turned around and swung his rifle onto his back. A smile slowly split his face as he walked down an alley.
"See you soon men.... I need to make a pit stop, at an old friends house." His voice was different, before it was dry and commanding.... but now it was dripping with humor, a humor that normally ended peoples lives.
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