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originally posted in:The New Dojo
10/29/2016 11:10:30 PM
78
[b][i]Hard Times[/i][/b]
[b]Inside the Dojo[/b]
[i]Wilson's Vertibird sat in one of the courtyards, the aircraft's cargo spread out and displayed, an enticing lure for anyone looking to pick up a weapon. However, living accommodations in the craft were suitable for only one individual, and that person was Wilson. For Jackson Wolfe, silence and cleanliness were much more in-line, and so, he had set about procuring himself a home in the Dojo. This place was new, foreign to him. Unlike Wilson, this was his first prolonged stay in the Dojo, and he had few of the privileges that the Courier had.
And so, after loading himself with his normal combat gear, he set out to speak to someone, to get a home and be allowed to duel, should the issue arise. Kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. He also supposed it wouldn't hurt to get out and meet new people. Most of those he had seen were unrecognizable, aside from Riley. The others, at least from what Wilson had told him, were likely from after the time of Venom Incorporated; or had little to do with it. Those that knew were likely not the fondest of the company or Jackson's father, but he knew better than to bring certain things up.
The armed assassin was not a strange sight amongst the other formidable warriors, but he was certainly noticeable. There was not a pride to his step, no cockiness, his movements did not exaggerate a thing. He was silent, and perhaps to those he did not know, cold. Many avoided him, his appearance not particularly inviting, some, perhaps, because they knew his father. Either way, it did not matter to him. He was not there to cause trouble. He was not his father.[/i]
[spoiler]Open, if you want to meet Wolfe.[/spoiler]
English
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[b]The man stood up, grunting as he did so. He dashes forwards, headed for the direction of the shot [/b]
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[i]Rapidly, two more hit him straight in the chest, the rounds outpacing the sound of the rifle firing them. One struck the solar plexus, knocking the wind out of the man, the second hitting the same place, less than a millimeter to the right. Surprisingly, he could see no flashes nearby. Clearly the weapon was not suppressed, the shots were too loud, but it must have had a muzzle break or a flash hider to prevent anyone from catching the muzzle flash.[/i]
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[b]He stumbles back, the four shots doing a number on him. But he kept his advances strong, continuing onwards through the pain [/b]
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[i]Considering he didn't have a clear idea of where the marksman was, his pursuit was going to be much more challenging. This time, a shot clipped him in the side of the leg, just behind the kneecap. Angled more sideways, the rubber bullet hit before the sound of the rifle, again. To anyone who had previous experience with firearms, it was clear that there was quite some distance between the sniper and Kross, otherwise the bullet impact and the sound would be much closer together. From this last shot, one could calculate that the sniper had definitely changed positions, although not by too much. However, a blow to the joint like that was intensely painful, and the rifleman still had half a magazine to expend, not counting any extras on his person.[/i]
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[b]Kross fell to one knee, thunder being heard throughout the dojo. A lightning bolt strikes him and he floats upwards, his strength being re energized. He turns in a circle, firing a. Wave of electricity in every direction [/b]
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[i]Near him, there was nobody. Had he known how sound and rifle rounds worked, he would have known that the rifleman was not near him, else he would have been much more easily able to have pinpointed his opponent's location. For now, no more shots came. [/i]
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[b]He searches around, falling downwards as he grunted heavily, walking rather slow [/b]
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[i]One shot this time, the round impacting Kross in the side of his head, just below the ear. The sound echoed after the round connected, the force of it immense, hurting far worse than the two the chest. Had it been a real round, his head would have shattered like a dish of fine China.[/i]
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"Ugh." [b]He falls to one knee, placing a hand on the where the shot hit him. He groaned, attempting to stand up but falling to one knee immediately. Electricity sparked off his body, as he stood, fighting the pain as best he could [/b]
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[i]Another round hit him just below the rib cage on his right side, the blow likely to end the short fight, and put Kross out of action for a little while. While on-lethal, rubber bullets were intensely painful, and he'd probably have a few serious bruises in the morning.[/i]
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[b]Kross doubles over, collapsing face first into the ground and effectively ending the fight. He groans multiple times before eventually blacking out [/b]
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[i]Before him, the sniper appeared out of thin air, having disengaged his cloaking and teleported back to his opponent. Safetying his rifle, he slung it on his back, and picked the man up. Carrying him fireman-style, he headed into the Dojo to get the man checked by a doctor to assure that he was alright. From what Wolfe could tell, no serious external or internal injury had been done aside from bruising. [/i]
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[b]Some minutes later, Kross is taken by some doctors and he wakes up momentarily [/b] "You're.....good.... For.... Sparring." [b]He falls back into unconsciousness with the doctor watching over him [/b] [i]"Thanks for bringing him." [/i] [b]The doctor says to Wolfe, ushering him out of the room [/b]
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[i]The armored mercenary simply nodded, leaving.[/i]
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[spoiler]End! You're good to spar with others. And you can find your own house or whatever [/spoiler]
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[spoiler]Thanks fam.[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]No problemo boyyo [/spoiler]
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[b]He collapsed forward, his chest Hitt the ground laughing slightly [/b] "Oh man the dojo has changed."
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[b]The well worn paths of the Dojo were littered with few passerbys. Most didn't pay mind to the Vengeful Son... Plenty of mercs with guns came by. Though most had never heard of him, as many had forgotten the golden ages... None knew that the only thing separating them from a bullet was the skin on their forehead, and the skull bone underneath... All except few... And one in particular just happened to be walking by...[/b] [b]He was dressed in his usual combat attire, combat vest with gel pads, ceramic plating, and sheer clip metals. The compression joints gave fluid motion like a second skin... And of course he wore red and black camo cargo pants to cover everything below his waste... Sure it was armored, but he had decency. Then there was the bullet proof glass helmet with an electronic interface that buzzed and hummed with bits of info and electronic graphs, headed by two long noise sensors piling out the sides. Then there was his weaponry. Two large knives with unfinished hilts sheathed near his left and right shoulder just below his collar bone. Meanwhile, he carried a modified pistol at his left hip and a modified magnum at his right, both custom... As if from a different age. And his crown jewel was the custom rail coil sniper at his back, which was currently disassembled leaving only the base gun...[/b] [b]And what was such a outfitted being doing? Laying on the side of the road with his arms outstretched, scanning... Clouds. Okay... So... He was a little off his rocker, but he clearly wasn't stupid.[/b] [b]He sat up at the approaching footsteps as his eye sensors stuttered slightly, giving Wolfe a good scan. He had a sort of lazy vibe, accompanied by some kind of bored shoulder sag, like he was ravenous for a nap... But there was something else there... A deep sense of insanity... It was like looking at a military merc from some kind of lucid dream...[/b] [i]"Well... I'll be damned... I've seen your... Face thingy before. No... Heard about it. Shit. I don't know. But I do know it! Your friends with Ronin...? Right...?"[/i] [b]The bizarre man tilted his head like an animal and leaned closer in expectancy, as if worried he had the wrong guy.[/b]
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[i]Wolfe turned to the man, silently looking at him for a moment, scanning him with his own HUD. [/i] You know the Ronin? [i]he asked, voice cold and metallic through his mask.[/i]
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[b]The man shrugged, slowly getting to his feet, dusting off the sand particles that clung to his armor.[/b] [i]"Sorta... It's hard to say with him. We are at least very familiar with each other..."[/i] [b]He remarked, his hands sliding into his pockets that sat just in front of his gun holsters...[/b] [i]"I've heard about you. The armor descriptions at least... Uhhh... Wolfe... I think... Something like that."[/i]
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Yeah. [i]The reply was short and terse.[/i] Armor wasn't originally mine. My father wore it initially, but Ronin would not have called him Wolfe.
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Edited by Chesh I Guess: 10/30/2016 5:06:00 AM[i]"I've only heard two names in entirety. Wolfe is the only one. Not sure who your father is to be honest... Unless you want me to know about your other nicknames?"[/i] [b]He questioned, his body language unwavering. For the untrained, his humor would be lost... Heavy sarcasm, so intense that most missed it. Not that they could be blamed... He wasn't ever out to amuse people... Just himself./b] [i]"But... Enough of the stupid shit... I'll do this one right. Name is Judge... Or Damien... Whatever you prefer. Now, here's the part where you give me a name before I call you Blue for the rest of your life..."[/i] [b]Damien wasn't intentionally a rude person, more like... Blunt and uncaring. He had little to no social skills and never tried to learn...[/b]
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[i]Wolfe could sense the sarcasm, the man before him spoke like some of the government operators he had dealt with. There was nothing new about this to him, and he simply played the game as they did.[/i] What you heard is what you need to know. Wolfe is the only one that is of importance.
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[i]"If you say so..."[/i] [b]The man looks up for a brief moment, like the weird thing that he was, before looking down the road Wolfe was coming from.[/b] [i]"So... You are heading where? Lemme just say... Target practice here is shit... Better just go hunting... But something tells me... Not target practice."[/i]
