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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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Edited by Sanctus Caesar: 11/3/2016 10:34:20 AM[i]As he went to fire the machine gun, he found that it was ruined, shot through with Old Hickory's pistol and marksman aim. The barrel, still smoking, raised from its position on the gun to the head of the mercenary. His pistol in his left hand, he reached his right hand into the satchel, withdrawing a plasma pistol, which he also aimed the the merc, and began to charge heavily.[/i] "[b][i]Listen here, [u]friend[/u]. I've just fought two other strange men, and both of them are dead. I do not know what skill you have, but it's clearly more than these civilians had. I do not know why you killed them, nor do I particularly care. However, if you attempt to kill me again, I [u]will[/u] respond in kind. Am I understood?[/i][/b]"
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[i]The man did not speak, tossing the scrapped Russian machine gun, and in seconds, drawing his own pistol, and firing the weapon off five times before dropping a flashbang and rolling out of the way. Dimming his visor and reducing his hearing input, he allowed the grenade to go off, the noise deafening, the bright light disorienting.[/i]
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[i]As he drew, Jackson fired the plasma pistol, the ensuing projectile missing as the man rolled. His shots mostly flew by due to the speed at which he had operated, and the fact that Jackson had dodged, his dueling instincts kicking in. However, two shots registered, one in the leg and one in the upper arm. His nanites successfully took the hit, but the damage done gave Jackson perspective. 6% damage from two shots in non-vital areas meant he'd have to relocate the rest to protect himself better. As he reorganized the nanites, the flash bang went off, blinding him and deafening his ears. His hand, however, remained steady, launching a volley of rounds and projectiles at the last known location of the merc for suppression as he entered the building to his right.[/i]
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[i]The plasma rounds seemed to react with the shield, but did no serious damage. The bullets seemed to do little more than ricochet, and the soldier continued to fire, aiming carefully for Jackson's center of mass, as most trained military shooters did, steadying his pistol with both hands.[/i]
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[spoiler]Note that Jackson's main gun uses hard light ammunition, but can switch to accommodate any type he happens to find. He's still using hard-light rounds at this time.[/spoiler] [i]Jackson dodges behind the wall's of the building, careful to expose as little of himself as possible. He replaced the plasma pistol in his satchel, pulling out a particle cannon that somehow seemed too large for the bag, though all of this was unseen by the merc. He charged a shot, then rapidly poked out, firing the large gun at the cover where the merc had last been.[/i]
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[spoiler]The mercenary does have an energy shield capable of withstanding small energy weapons.[/spoiler] [i]The charged shot blows the soldier's cover away, and tosses him backwards. Recovering, he used his jump pack to leap to a rooftop close by, where he withdrew his railgun, charging a shot and preparing to fire. Moments after landing on the roof, he peeked and let loose a round from the weapon, the white hot sabot streaking towards Jackson's chest.[/i]
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[spoiler]Alright, just letting you know now to avoid future confusion.[/spoiler] [i]It would most most assuredly kill him...except he wasn't there. He had immediately run when the merc ascended to the roofs. He was now on the second floor, climbing the ladder to the roof. The blast knocked him loose, and he fell onto his back. He took advantage of his new position to laugh another blast from the cannon through the gaping hole in the building's front, aimed in the general direction from which the merc had fired. After firing, he got up and readied for the next few moments, they would be vital...maybe...[/i]
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[i]The mercenary had been positioned on the roof of the building, and the shot coming through from a lower floor simply blew a large hole into the roof behind him. He knew quickly that his opponent was approaching, and as such, he used his jump pack again to maneuver to another rooftop to hopefully gain a visual again.[/i]
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[spoiler]Ive been under the belief you were on a different roof. My b.[/spoiler] [i]Jackson pokes his head out, then, seeing nothing there, reaches into his satchel, pulling out a small mirror, which he promptly tosses into the air before backing down the ladder a bit.[/i]
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[i]The soldier did not shoot, knowing that the man he had faced did not have any sort of weapon with a scope, and thus he was not fooled by an attempted scope glare trick.[/i]
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[i]Jackson pulls out a 9mm Glock, tossing it through the window next to him, and the window of the other building, then surges up onto the roof, keeping flat-bellied. The nanites in his eyes switch vision-mode until he hits x-Ray. He reaches back into the satchel, quietly extracting a rifle, before setting it, and firing directly at where the man's head should be.[/i]
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[spoiler]What caliber is the rifle?[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]Not sure. The only one I know is 50 cal. Imma research it up for sure, but go ahead and assume it's 50 cal APR.[/spoiler]
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[i]The shot staggered the man, but did not penetrate his helmet, the armor being rated in the vital regions for 20mm rounds. However, in retaliation, he fired his railgun in the place where he assumed the shot had come from once he recovered.[/i]
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[i]Being no fool, Jackson did not wait after firing. Rather he slid to the ladder hole, falling lightly to the second floor. He dropped softly to the ground and ran around the buildings till he was a few buildings down. Finding a point peeking on the corner of a building, he aimed and fired another shot at the same area of the mercs helmet.[/i]
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[i]I approach the man, in full ear. My good was up and my mask on. At my side rested Kaleb's revolver, and at my side lay my shortsword. In my hands, there was a SCAR-H Battle Rifle, and on my back was a SCAR-Land a MK 20 SSR. On the Battle Rifle was an Elian Sepctre sight, and there was a round in the chamber. I kept my distance and raised the rifle, aiming for somewhere at your shoulder. [/i] "Alright, that's enough. Party's over. I'd say that I admire your handiwork but I'm not a psychotic asshat anymore."
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[i]The soldier was clearly unfazed by this gesture, and immediately returned fire with his handgun, moving to cover quickly. His energy shielding flared for a moment, charging up, and he tossed a nine-banged in Kaleb's general direction.[/i]
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[i]A black sheen glosses over the visor of my mask as I back left, taking a bullet to the lower left leg as I dive. My armor stopped the bullet, but inbound feel the bruise begin to form.[/i] "Well then, there goes the diplomatic option." [i]I remembered seeing that Cobra elsewhere... though I couldn't quite place it. I shook off the feeling, those old Duskwalker instincts kicking in. I break from cover, peeking out of the right side f the rock and firing volley of seven Green-Tip 7.62x51 NATO rounds right into the should joint of your left arm. The first five were stopped by the shield, yet the last two managed to do some minor damage. [/i]
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[i]The most damage green tips did was plink off, catching him as he leaned out with his PKP, leaving not more than a scratch, as his movement to shift his aim had made his shoulder pauldron the new target. He returned fire with a vicious group of bursts from the machine gun, which was loaded with armor-piercing rounds, a tracer every tenth round.[/i]
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Of course the first thing Lucien saw as he passed through the gates was a massacre. Immediately he recognized the stench. The iron in the air, the salty aroma of viscera. His senses were stimulated by all of it as much as he tried to suppress it - the beast inside him howling for bloodlust in recognition of the slaughter. Within a fractals of a second he drew his Raging Judge Mateba and loaded 4 rounds of .454 casull and two .410 shotgun shells at the end. Just in case. His other hand flashed with silver, his Oriental blade suddenly being drawn with a rasp of machinery. The sidearm was held in his left while the blade was held in his right, a stance that would normally be detrimental to any normal human due to the recoil of the former. But he was no ordinary man. He was mentored by the Tribals themselves, mastering the Wanderer stance since the advent of his training. Not only that, but he was also their feared False Prophet, an exile outcast by all with the mark of a demon... He crouched down by one cadaver and looked at the cause of death. Bullet wounds that would've be survivable given the right treatment were complicated by neckties. [i]Alister. Gotta find him before... Whatever did this does it to him.[/i] He puts his revolver down for a second to retrieve the gas mask clipped to his belt, inhaling some oxygen before putting on the herb-filled headgear. Suddenly everything became enhanced. His senses, reflexes and most importantly, his perception. The herbs of the Tribals ensured that their hunters would be able to be quick - if not quicker - than their abominable quarry during their raids. [i]Those people spoke of fighting anywhere here, but this is no duel. This is a massacre.[/i] He picked up his revolver as determination burned in his eyes beneath his new matte black face. He would have to put a stop to the slaughter so he could find the boy without any danger. He ducked into an alleyway and followed the trail of bodies, listening to the source of the slaughter through the many gunshots and screams.
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[i]He could see the back of the soldier, holding a handgun and firing on civilians, his marksmanship on par with that of a professionally trained soldier. This man was clearly out to do something, and it appeared that he was succeeding. Few had challenged him, and those that did joined those that ran in death, laying on the ground, coated in blood, breathing their last breath.[/i]
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[i]Armour of some kind. Exosuit? Most likely Iconoclast. No. Remember, you're not in your home anymore. Think. Armour looks similar to Ronin's. And that serpent emblem...[/i] It was impressive on how far Lucien could make things out with his Tribal herbs enhancing his senses. With a quick sleight of hand, all six rounds were traded for experimental contraband EMP rounds made in the design of .45 colt. He raided the Iconoclast for the blueprints, some black project based on hunting down rogue mercenaries with stolen Ico hardware. Whatever the case, the rounds let off an electromagnetic pulse upon impact. If that symbol and armour was anything to go off of by referencing Ronin's armour, he would have some kind of similar system. With a steady hand, Lucien raised his pistol and fired two rounds at the figure before advancing upon him, using cover to serpentine and avoid any bullets. [i]Automatic weapon of some kind. Knife - Old-Earth design, Oriental blade, modern rework. Unknown ordnance, possibly armour piercing.[/i] His mind analyzed every visible piece of equipment on the assailant as he advanced, unloading a covering barrage of EMP rounds as he ran to cover.
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[i]A flicker of blue light was seen as the rounds impacted his armor, plinking off but seeming to do short his shielding. Utilizing his jump pack, he vaulted to the top of a building, and quickly drew his machine gun. Looking down from the roof, he quickly let off a barrage of armor-piercing 7.62x54mm Russian rounds, armor-piercing with a tracer every tenth round.[/i]
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Time moved slower for Lucien. He saw the bullets as they came, perhaps one of the only men of the Dojo to have such perception. That, mixed with his analytical intellect, made for a deadly combination. [i]Rounds similar to high-funded mercenary .308, hinting at possible modification. Incendiary of some kind? Better watch for those ones.[/i] The rounds bombarded his position as he moved in a whirlwind of his long overcoat. Normal .308 would most likely be stopped and catch in the nano-cellulose layer beneath the thick leather, but as evidenced by the few that came passed through his coat and through his body, that wouldn't be the case with the AP rounds. Unbeknownst to the man however, Lucien was moving in a very special pattern. He was allowing for the bullets to pass through him, but ensured that the majority did not rupture any vital organs and the tracers did not hit. Incendiaries would be a problem for his viral regeneration. This was based off of a mixture of anatomical genius and hyper-analysis of every bullet's placement. It was impossible to dodge the barrage or hide, but the man did not know of his own abilities yet. Through his dodging and weaving came another flash of EMP rounds reloaded in the barrel, the clanging of discarded shells masked by the gunfire. He let out some rounds of his own as covering fire and ran with the speed of no normal person. Lucien leaped from a mound of bodies as his flesh knit itself under his bullet-marked overcoat, each hole searing with a painful [i]hiss![/i] as he ran up the wall. Using his momentum he leapt to the building parallel to him, ending up on its roof. They were now on equal level, although the soldier still had a slight height advantage. This would be a rooftop rumble indeed. A cylindrical object of some kind is chucked over to the soldier as Lucien slides into more secure cover - the opposite side of a roof facing away from the soldier. Right before he ducks into cover he fires two rounds at the man before during into the object as it nears him. The EMP grenade goes off right as Lucien slides down the roof and stabs his sword into the foundation, stopping his descent.
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[i]The rounds that hit him from the second barrage did little damage, his armor soaking them up without fail. The EMP grenade, however, scrambled his systems, and as such, his armor was forced to reboot, temporarily shutting down. Even in this state, it was still protective and he could still see his target, but he was without his shielding and enhanced sensors, as well as his jump pack. Sliding the machine gun onto his back, he withdrew the other weapon, and charged it. Mere moments later, as Lucien landed, he fired it, the depleted uranium sabot striking the ground just in front of him, shattering and sending up shards of white-hot metal and concrete.[/i]
