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originally posted in:The New Dojo
10/31/2016 5:08:44 AM
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[b]The men scattered, having their shields off at the time, sensing no threat... Well, now they regretted it. So they all quickly took cover behind upturned tables and counters, opening fire at Treyman.[/b]
[b]Some to the men were wounded by the shrapnel, on even critically, but they suffered no casualties.[/b]
[i]"Kill him! That stupid bastard!"[/i]
[b]And with that, one of the men lobed a thermite grenade towards Treyman.[/b]
English
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[i]Oh grenades. Slow moving, deadly as all hell and potentially able to destroy most things in the room, which Treyman couldn't exactly have happen, so he used one of his abilities to suspend it midair, a gravitational pulse emitter. Throwing it back at the sender, he also picked up a few bullets headed towards him and sent them back, though he did take damage to his hardlight shields as he couldn't exactly move away while doing so. [/i]
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Edited by Chesh I Guess: 10/31/2016 10:42:53 PM[b]The grenade quickly burned and killed the soldier, the other four promptly taking cover and reloading as the wall of the bar caught fire.[/b] [i]"Shit. We got a manipulator. Pulse him."[/i] [b]Unluckily for Treyman, these guys had a means to deal with people who manipulated matter forms... They called it a pulse.[/b] [b]In a low rumble and a horrid high pitched noise, a sudden sickening sensation overtook him until he felt like he was about to vomit...[/b] [b]From the corner of the room, one of the soldiers was using some kind of box, something emitting a frequency that was making Treyman feel horrible...[/b]
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Treyman had made an attempt to dive into cover though it came as little more than a rushed scurry just before his shielding broke. He needed a plan, so he would need to use a special... Gift, lets say in order to escape and keep the civilian safe. "Vun... Drin Mal!" The words weren't of an English tongue nor the other languages of the worlds that man inhabits, instead it was a phrase crafted by the Damned General himself to cause a spell of sorts. A purplish wave of fog escaped his lips like a breath in the winter air, and it moved to his hand where it hovered as a ball of violet plasma. A magic grenade, which he tossed over the cover he leaned against, as it didn't burn metals but instead just flesh and cloth.
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[b]The grenade shattered the plasma across the left side of one of the men, causing him to scream in agony before collapsing and slowly... Melting. The rest quickly moved back, sending out a Pulse towards Treyman in an attempt to unbalance him. He was either about to feel really sick... Or nothing at all.[/b] [i]"Keep distance... This one has got... Fūcking magic."[/i]
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[i]Well now that they believed him to be an all powerful Magician, Jack could finally use his greatest strengths, the abilities of a Genesis. The pulse hitting him was enough to cause an immense sickening within his body but he grabbed a small vial of morphine and another if adrenaline from inside the left side of his jacket, which he proceeded to shoot into his body with a shout. The morphine and adrenaline pierced the adamant/carbon mesh that contained his skin and tapped into a specialized vein in his body that affected all non-bionic parts to his body and in turn make him feel less sick to his stomach. [/i]
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[b]As he injected himself with the mixtures, the remaining men pulled a ungodly amount of mustard gas grenades and tossed them at Treyman... They were pricks. Soon the toxin began to spray out as the soldiers kept in cover to watch he'll break loose.[/b]
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[i]Well -blam!-, Treyman could digistruct things but a gas mask wasn't something he could easily do, because that would be no fun. So a filter was needed, and he got up before sprinting to a rag, soaking it in water, and tossing it to the civilian he was trying his best to save. After all, he could hold his breath, civvies couldn't. [/i]
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[b]The 'civilian' a girl of no more than about nine or ten years of age was fully unconscious... Blood seeped from a wound in her forehead and the hole in her leg... Plus she looked deathly pale... Using the homemade mask would be... A problem.[/b] [i]"Ignite the gas... Let's flush this fūcker out."[/i] [b]With a snap, the men began to throw thermite grenades, this time using a mixture of napalm and the explosive powder to create a sticky flame...[/b]
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[i]Explosions and gas? Two of the things that served as his trigger. And I'm not talking a regular feminist type of trigger, I'm referring to violent flashbacks of the wars Treyman took part in. The Damned General had digistructed himself a pair of .44 Colt Anaconda revolvers just as he heard the words, and instead of a kitchen in a Tatakai bar he was witnessing a rundown little restaurant, in what looked to be New Mexico. In his eyes he was peering over the cover he had and seen a pair of... Not robots, that didn't even begin to describe the kind of war machines he thought they were. So he stood and with pinpoint accuracy, he started to fire. Bullet after bullet, explosions in the barrel sent the shots rippling through the air as he grabbed the girl by the arm, thinking her to be a wounded NTR ODST from the war, before he hurdled her with immense force out of the window that was on the outside of the bar, and through the door to the kitchen, so she would be out of the bar. Besides, the Omega had a little ace up his sleeves for dealing with explosions, in the form of a custom digistruction. [/i]
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[spoiler]How hard is he throwing, cause she's barely alive as is...[/spoiler] [b]The bullets tore through and slaughtered the men, bright splatters of metallic body fluid coating the walls like a sickening Rorschach test. But even in death they posed a threat, one's chest beginning to light up with a vehement red light and blaring noise that signaled a self destruct sequence meant to bring down the building.[/b]
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[spoiler]Light enough to keep her innards from tumbling but just hard enough to smash through the window. [/spoiler] [i]Treyman thought it was a protocol of the Sol Collective in an attempt on his life, so what dud Treyman do? He conjured up a shield of plasma in front of his body, jumped onto the figure and just laid there as he knew his Hard Light Body Shields, the Plasma Barrier and his metal mesh skin would keep the building from falling completely, and only pose a bit of harm to him. [/i]
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[b]There was a crack against his shield and then a noise only a monster might have once made as shrapnel and thermite exploded around him, the bar rumbling as the flash of the C4 and thermite mixture bomb detonated right under Treyman... The crazy sun'a'bitch had just saved a bar... Maybe... But at what cost?[/b]
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[i]Yeah, the shrapnel pierced his armour and broke through his stomach as a massive, gaping wound was seeping AntiMatter onto the ground beneath, but his hard light body shields soon got back up so that they would stop the seepage and regenerate quickly enough to not let the material seep out. The thermite was absorbed by the plasma and, when Treyman stood up, he just walked outside like it was nothing. The guy had tanked far worse in his life, believe me. [/i]
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[b]Things quickly quieted down with the deaths of the assassins, but that was about it... Now, Treyman could check for survivors... Or go after the girl once more... Either way, the men were dead and were probably feeling their mistakes in the afterlife as well.[/b]
