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originally posted in:The New Dojo
Edited by Trashcan Jesus:
11/6/2016 3:31:37 PM
99
[b][i]Atlas, Rise...[/i][/b]
[i]"Crucify and witness
Circling the sun
Bastardized in ruin
What have you become?
Blame the world and blame your maker
Wish 'em to the undertaker
Crown yourself the other savior
So you carry on"
-Metallica[/i]
[b]Dojoville, Residential Area[/b]
[i]An explosion ripped apart the side of a small store, smoke and flame climbing into the sky. What had happened was not exactly clear, until from the smoke, an [url=http://addu.cgsociety.org/art/concept-photoshop-design-character-deadshot-sci-fi-2d-1283142]armored figure[/url] exited, a strange, rifle-like weapon in hand, a PKP GPMG on his
back. He wore a combat hard suit, one which bore the insignia of the red cobra on its right shoulder pauldron, faded, but still visible. Around him, amidst the rubble were corpses, blown apart, charred, and riddled with shrapnel from the weapon's blast.
Whatever the weapon was, it was massively powerful. As the man marched forwards, he used a jump pack to make his way atop a roof, and from there, he swapped the massive weapon out for his machine gun, which he promptly turned on the people, ripping them down as they tried to escape. Across his body, a flicker of a hexagonal blue pattern, an energy shield of some sort, but his power systems appeared hidden. Clearly, this man was well-equipped for what he needed to be doing, and he had no problem doing it.
Burning through a full belt on civilians, he switched back to the large weapon, which clicked, and then began charging, firing after a few rapid moments with a powerful boom, and ripping into the side of a cafe, bringing much of the wall down, and killing most in the immediate area of impact. Screams and smoke filled the air, the soldier leaping down, and continuing his slaughter, holstering the weapon on his back with the machine gun, and drawing his pistol, a .40SW and a tactical knife, a serrated tanto.
Moving through the streets, he aimed and precisely nailed people in the head, men, women, and children. Those who were merely wounded faced the worst, for the killer slit their throat, letting them choke on their own blood. The streets were littered with shell casings, rubble, and corpses, the figure continuing his rampage as he went, saying nothing. [/i]
[spoiler]Open[/spoiler]
[b]Edit: Closed[/b]
English
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(A woman staggered through the street, and fell to the ground, clearly wounded in the onslaught, leaving a trail of blood behind her)
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Edited by Chesh I Guess: 11/4/2016 2:03:47 AM[b]There was a clicking noise not far off that merely lapped across the wind as the sound of fire and crumbling buildings took up most of the space in the air... But it was still there like an ever present... Wait... The noise... It was growing louder...[/b] [i]"Hey, dickwad, I hope you are used to pain because you are about to get your shit pushed back in."[/i] [b]Unceremoniously, Damien had stumbled upon the scene. Literally. He tripped over some bricks.[/b] [b]But that was in the past, and now he was standing with his full set of armor, LL technical stealth unit and gunner armor, custom made for all hazardous environments. It sat like a second skin if not bulkier. It was black with the white insignia of its manufacturer on the chest piece. The bottom armored portions were covered by red and black camo pants and the helmet was lit up with a visual interface that had so much info a normal man would be horribly distracted... But not Damien. Between the two knives sitting near his collar, the rail sniper at his back, sidearm and magnum at his hip, and enough equipment to level a few blocks... He was prepared. Prepared as hell... But he drew no weapons immediately, instead flipping off the terrorist with a wiggling middle finger.[/b] [i]"Or you could surrender and I'll just use a hatchet to chop your knees to a fine pulp to use as a face moisturizing cream."[/i] [b]To be honest, Damien didn't care about the people so much as he cared about the future. They were dead and he couldn't fix that... But he could put an end to this destruction... And he would.[/b] [b]He stood poised, fists clenched into tight balls as he took a few steps forward towards the attacker, his body stuttering slightly as he moved... Something was up... Or maybe, he was just crazy.[/b]
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[i]The mercenary said nothing, but turned to face his opponent, holstering his handgun. Looking to the armored figure, he drew a large rifle-looking weapon from his back, and charged it, aiming it at the newcomer and letting loose a shot, the weapon going off with a deafening boom. The white hot sabot screamed towards the other soldier's chest at a ridiculous speed...[/i]
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[b]As the princess projectile moved forwards, Damien moved ever so slightly as his shields kicked in, causing sparks to sizzle and crackle across his black armor, a Tesla arc bouncing off the suit and slamming into the Sabot... Which of course slowed and eventually burnt the metal until it merely pinged against his suit and left a slight scratch.[/b] [i]"Alright asshole. You asked for it."[/i] [b]Damien suddenly charged forward, pulling a small device from his belt, something that looked like a hollow plate, launching it behind the armored figure as he swung out a fist.[/b]
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[i]The soldier rolled to the side, slinging his railgun back onto his back as he came back up, firing his handgun at the side of Damien's head.[/i]
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[b]In one moment, Damien was there, in the next... Gone...[/b] [b]Behind the soldier, the plate opened up and reformed Damien like a small teleportation device. Now, he was behind the man, arm swinging around to headlock the man as he moved in one swift burst... He just had to hope the man wasn't as quick as the personal teleporter. He had only narrowly dodged the shots.[/b]
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[i]As Damien attempted to headlock the man, the soldier thrusted his elbow into Damien's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He swung his elbow back a second time in hopes of knocking Damien to the ground.[/i]
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[b]The first strike caused Damien to stumble and cough slightly, but the second strike... Boy... Damien felt bad for that arm...[/b] [b]It was hard to describe what transpired in those short few seconds... No man had the strength to mere twist and snap a joint... But Damien... Damien wasn't an ordinary man. Using his right arm, he had quickly grabbed his opponents upper bicep and yanked then turned, pulling the limb from its socket... No... That strength was... Unnatural.[/b] [i]"Come on, tough shit... I got hours to do this..."[/i] [b]He goaded, sending his leg out to sweep under his opponents ankles and trip him.[/b]
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[i]The man shouted in pain, but swung his knife back and into Damien's side with his other arm, jamming the blade between his ribs and twisting it.[/i]
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[b]Damien grinned under his helmet as the knife slid into his armor and was caught by something that was clearly not flesh... Perhaps... More metal?[/b] [i]"Sorry, bud..."[/i] [b]And with that, his arm began to vibrate, an almost mind numbing sensation filling the air as he swung out his fist at lightning speed towards his opponents chest, a sound wave condensing around his fist so that a mass of energy and concussive force swallowed the air around it and created a devastating single point of impact. It wasn't enough to kill... Well... Maybe, but it was mostly to shatter armor and maybe some teeth.[/b]
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[i]The blow shattered his armor, and crushed his ribcage, killing him almost instantly, rupturing most of his internal organs.[/i]
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[b]Damien sighed frustratedly and looked at his clenched fist... He'd need to recalibrate that...[/b] [i]"Damn... It's only a bother when things happen to work right for once... "[/i] [b]He looked at the mess of a man, disappointed he hadn't been able to get info, but more or less pleased that he had... 'Dealt' with him.[/b]
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[spoiler]End[/spoiler]
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[i] The rubble, smoke, ash, and fleeing citizens was all pretty expectable in a situation like this. After the shootings and explosions, people were doing their best to get the hell out. All except one man.. who most definitely hadn't been there a few seconds ago, only a few meters in front of the terrorist. The man stood tall, at about 6'2", clad in a form fitting, pitch black armor. The metal over his form was glossy, having no markings or signs it had ever even seen battle. It was Almost assassin in nature. On the breastplate of the armor, a yin-yang symbol over crossed swords sits. That was the blatant symbol, but a less conspicuous one, was a blood red, coiled cobra on his shoulder, ready to strike. One that would be pretty damn recognizable to the shooter. At the man's hip lie three katanas, all with the vibe of mystery and an enigmatic feel..hell, they looked like the kind of swords that needed to be sheathed so they didn't cut the air. The first was a vibrant white and gold; quite the contrast to his dark attire. It seemed to gleam, even in areas of low light. The second blade was more at home and looked like it belonged, being completely and utterly black. No..black would imply color. This was the epitome of shadow. It seemed to want to devour the light of its brother blade.. completely Devoid of light and color. The third and final blade was rather drab compared to the other two, a dull, olive green. Though, the pommel is in the shape of an oriental dragon head. One of the more peculiar and downright unnerving things about the man was the mask he wore. A traditional Japanese Oni demon mask; made of contorted and twisted black metal, with sprouting horns. Where his eyes would be, the mask had coal black abysses that lacked any content. From the few steps he took, it was clear He carried himself with self-assurance and dominion. His very presence emanated unparalleled power, in an almost elegant sort of way. Every movement maximizes efficiency..if Death was graceful, this man was his living incarnate. https://imgur.com/a/MiiYp https://imgur.com/a/CdM6F https://imgur.com/a/SXcJq He had one sword drawn, the white and gold blade, but it was lowered and out to the side. Ronin had already made up his mind, this terrorist was going to die. What he wanted to know was why he had a Venom Inc. cobra on his armor..[/i]
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[i]The soldier turned to face him, and noticed the Venom Incorporated insignia very quickly. He did not draw his weapon immediately, rather, he spoke.[/i] You are the one we have heard about.... the Ronin, one of the few surviving commanding officers... [i]He seemed to be seeking confirmation, and quite frankly, seemed surprised that any other high-ranking officers were still alive.[/i]
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[i]Ronin spoke up, his sword still down at his side, his voice filtered and metallic sounding through the mask.[/i] "Yeah, I'm Ronin. Who are you?" [i] In reality, Lance had no affiliation with Venom whatsoever. He only kept the emblem for wild instances like this, but new guy didn't need to know about that. If he saw Lance as his superior for some odd reason, so be it..if that was the case.[/i]
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Name's not important. [i]He said with a shrug.[/i] What's important is the message.
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"And what's that message?" [i] Ronin questions, his posture easy and relaxed. His sword was lowered at his side, but when you were someone like him..that didn't mean much. [/i]
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Give us the Wolf, spare your people. The longer you wait, the more will die. Non-negotiable. [i]He said, looking back to the carnage.[/i] No longer is war a fight between massive armies; no longer is the enemy always noticeable, and no longer are the targets always military.
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"You're assuming these are my people, and that I care what happens to them. Who wants the Wolf?" [i] Lance questions, his voice irritated like this soldier was inconveniencing him. [/i]
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Atlas. [i]A simple, one-word answer.[/i]
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"I'm gonna take a wild guess and say it's not a sky holding Titan. So who are they?" [i] Lance made himself sound curious and interested in the man's goal, like he was actually going to give up Wolfe if his curiosity was dated. [/i]
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Not they. Him.
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"So it's one person? What's his goal, what's he want with the Wolf?" [i] He sounded detached from Wolfe, using the name the soldier had called him and not using any personal labels. The less this guy knew about his dealings with Wolfe, the better.![/i]
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Not my job to know [i]He said with a shrug.[/i] I'm just a messenger.
