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The New Dojo

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originally posted in:The New Dojo
originally posted in: THE DOJO
2/6/2018 12:13:36 AM
8
[b]Journal entry #3245 Unknown location[/b] [i]Jesus Christ. Out if all the assignments.... Of füçking course Clef gets preferential treatment. Seniority I guess. God, the O5 spooks are seriously cunts. They find a new dimensional tear, and send me. What do I know? Not like I have say over the fact that I can do what I do. Mary Sue, "god", and now reality bender. Jeez. There are so many things they call me. SCP-3002 is my new name apparently. It'll be nice to be known by an actual name, at least while I'm here. Shit, you'd think they'd give me more freedom considering what I do. They're throwing me in once they can figure out what I'm supposed to be kitted out in. Halo? Prototype? Dark Souls? Personally, I hope they let me use Elite. I wouldn't mind an Anaconda. Shit, they're calling. Time to get to work.[/i] [b] Dojoville 10:32 AM[/b] [i]God...what a shit show[/i] Was all he could think as he walked down the lane. For once, he was allowed his pick. 'Unlimited Jurisdiction', or so they said. He grinned, being a bender who obeyed video game rules had it's perks. He had a lot of weapons stowed. For now, he had nothing showing save for his outfit. He'd chosen James Heller's outfit for this. It was a nice setup. The jacket, jeans, and boots were what he liked. Unfortunately biomass manipulation was off the table. 'Too much collateral damage', they said. Whatever, he liked the freedom otherwise. Time to get to work [spoiler]Open[/spoiler]

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  • The unrealistically realistically average clothing had put him into the normal category of people to steal from. Said category usually didn't have valuables on them but the challenge to fish around in their pockets was always fun. Plus, who knows, maybe he had a cool pen or something. Such was the thought process of a 4'3" Kig-Yar (jackal from halo, imagine the kind from Halo 4 in this instance). Since no one could pronounce his actual name, he had been using the nickname "Kig" for years. And so, Kig decided to trail the average stranger for some time, casually strolling a ways behind him as he made it seem like he was trailing someone else, glancing at another person from behind the shades he wore while his eyes remained on his jacket-wearing target. Kig's goal, since he didn't notice anything special about his pockets, was to slip a half-used pencil into his back left pocket from his right side, and then to follow him along until he noticed it was there. Kig allowed a small smile to cross his face from under his linen hood, adjusting the jacket he wore over his light, smooth, flexible armor plating. It was less than what was standard for an average Covenant Jackal by comparison, but it allowed him to both wear additional clothes over top it and move around faster. After a few minutes of slowly getting closer among the other civilians in the torrent of people bustling by, he reached into his pocket to get the pencil. With a grin, he moved over to the stranger's right side, slipping the pencil into the opposite pocket as he passed. Kig's hand was back in his own pocket by the time he walked by, and the stranger now had a new pencil.

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  • [i]Hooooo boy. I can kick his ugly ass all the way back to covenant space[/i] He'd played along with it the whole time, until the jackal walked away. The sound of a Magnum (CE) being loaded was heard, and it resonated through the air "Hey bud, look over here"

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  • Kig stopped in his tracks mid-step, his heart skipping a beat at the sound of the Magnum. In all honesty, he was confused as to why the stranger didn't already have the gun loaded. Either way, his life was in danger and this didn't bode well for him. He slowly raised his hands into the air, really not wanting to get shot that day. Up until then things had been going relatively well, and a bullet in his back would likely ruin it all.

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  • There I replied, are you satisfied with the amount of reply’s you have yet?

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  • Edited by Viper: 2/6/2018 3:28:51 AM
    [i]Off on the side of the street, a lurking robot, Chondra, caught sight of him. Several thousand of her nanites scanned him, identifying his clothes as ‘unnaturally realistic’ since, well, she had surfed the web a few million times in search of interesting and useful knowledge...she had yet to come by any of use to her. Chondra began to follow this strange man, being not subtle at all in her dead straight trajectory.[/i] [spoiler] https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/227658094/0/0/1 [/spoiler]

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  • "Yoooo Ultron what's good?" He greeted the thing as he turned "What's up with the beeline?" Internally, he analyzed the thing for any behavior that could indicate hostility, hoping if it attacked he could drop it. "I don't like you creepin' on me, its not cool"

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  • [i]To be honest, emotion seemed rather non-existent on the surface of Chondra. The only real indication of anything he could get, was how she was headed right towards him, closing distance rather quickly. Abruptly, a low and subtly feminine voice emitted from somewhere on Chondra.[/i] “Those clothes do not belong to you.”

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  • "Yeah no shit, but they're mine." He grinned, watching the robot. His eyes darted from side to side, taking in everything. Alleyway on the right, building on the left. Watch for anomalous properties. "Why?"

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