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3/6/2016 10:36:53 PM
43
[b][i]An arrival of sorts[/i][/b]
[b][i]The hangar. Shuttles and maintenance droids, stretching as far as the eye can see and then some. But oddly enough, a singular ship flies into the hangar, landing in a relatively open and clear area, free of the shuttles and droids.
The cockpit window splits into two, both halves folding outwards and doing a one hundred eighty degree spin, encompassing the sides of the sleek green cruiser. A single figure steps out from the cockpit cautiously, his black boots hitting down on the cold shuttle floor, then the cockpit closes.
Some of the droids take a gander towards him, only to turn their synthetic heads once more and focus on the mop or wrench many of them hold. One approaches the strange man, staring into the dark hole where his face should be. [/i][/b]"Please provide identification." [b][i]The cold, metallic voice of the robot says to him, scanning him up and down. [/i][/b]"Pioneer 0692, name of JT." [b][i]He says to the machine, a deep voice only matched by what would appear to be an old Canadian accent. [/i][/b]"Identification accepted. Welcome Pioneer JT." [b][i]The droid says, before scurrying off to a nearby mop. [/i][/b]"Well, that was pleasant." [b][i]He says to himself, putting his left hand on the grip of a red revolver, in between an onyx black one and an angelic white one. [/i][/b]
((Open))
English
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[i]Off to the left side of the hangar, JT could see Wilson's Vertibird gunship. The hangar ramp was open, ammo crates were situated all around the rear of it, and there was a power armor rack behind it. A couple of rifles leaned against the crates, and a couple of grenades were sitting atop several of the crates. The Courier was nowhere to be seen, but the music playing from the inside of the Vertibird was a sign as to where he might be. [/i]
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"The hell?" [b][i]He thinks to himself, and he slowly walks over, a black cloak resting over him, the words HUNTERS LEGION sprawled across his back in a bright orange[/i][/b]
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[i]As he approached, the hulking figure in power armor walked out of the aircraft, holding an M16A4 in one hand and an FAL in the other. Turning to face JT, he laughed.[/i] Long time no see, you damn Cannuck...
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"Wilson, certainly has been a while." [b][i]He says to the hulking figure, a slight chuckle following his words shortly after. He crosses his arms and looks at the innards of the Vertibird, slightly impressed at the amount of gear Wilson obtained. [/i][/b]"I see you've been busy?"
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You have no idea.... Been hunting for a while, got new power armor up in Boston, killed more people, nuked more shit, my usual...
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"And that's why you're one of the best damn allies I have. Now, whatever happened to that guy you were with, Blackjack I think his name was?" [b][i]He asked, scanning the cargo bay of the Vertibird with his left eye; Cybernetic scan, get a visual layout of the room implanted to memory, while the right focused on Wilson. [/i][/b]
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Wolfie? He's dead, been dead for a while. Venom fell apart during the third World War, and Wolfie got killed by the Feds a couple years later despite making a deal with them. His kid's still alive, somewhere around here with dad's armor.
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"Damn, never pegged him for the type to have a kid. Hell, never pegged him for the type to want a kid. What's he like, anyways?"
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Hey man, what man doesn't want to -blam!-? Kid's a lot quieter than his old man, still radiates that threatening atmosphere, but he's chill.
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"Yeah, I've met a lot of guys that would rather smash a face than a broad. You seen a Space Marine before? I'm pretty sure they'd fūck their guns instead of a woman. Anyways, kid sounds like someone id respect."
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He's boring as hell....
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"Well he seems like the type to not slaughter people, so I can see why. You know of any good VR simulations around here? Need to shoot something."
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I know there's a live-fire training floor on here that I've been using. Has hologram enemies and shit.
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"Damn, whoever built this ship stepped up. Makes the Alamo look like a fighter jet from the 20th century..."
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Hey man, I wouldn't talk shit about Venom's jets, some of the older ones were taking down ridiculously advanced alien jets and shit...
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"I'm talking about older models, like the ones made for civilian use. Jumbo Jet's and shit, barely s military thing. I think Venom's things could easily fūck places up."
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I'm just saying, some of the older stuff is wild, man. Don't knock it because of age.
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"Agreed there. Personally I carry a trio of old Colt Python's with me at all moments, just because of its power." [b][i]He says, gesturing to the three firearms laying at his hip. [/i][/b]
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Gun on my shoulder was first fielded between WWI and WWII. Hell of a weapon. [i]He gestures to the M2HB mounted on his right shoulder.[/i]
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"Damn, I'll only imagine the hell you can raise with that thing. Personally I like a mix of old and new, hence why I got an NTR rifle back on the ship."
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*he sees a man in completely black robes, walking towards a fighter. He turns to to JT "Hello. You one of the Infinite Pioneers that crews this ship?"-Man *JT sees a small yellow glow behind his hood, possibly his visor
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"Aye, names JT. You are?" [b][i]He asks, taking note of the fellows robes. Ironically JT was wearing pitch black robes as well, but with the words HUNTERS LEGION sprawled across the back in Orange, and under the cloak, a black helmet on a green suit of armour rests. Though the helmet had retracted into the neckpiece, allowing his face to be shown if he removed the hood. [/i][/b]
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"Phoenix. I'm a friend of one of the Pioneers. His name is Silver. Met him?"-Phoenix *Phoenix scans JT, then looks at the patch "'Hunters Legion?' Who are those?"-Phoenix
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"Never net the guy. And the legion... It's a long story, one in still pissed about."
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Edited by SilverPulse620: 3/6/2016 11:52:18 PM"I see. Sorry. I can understand how a team can be annoying. For a long time, I was a member of a group of mercenaries. And let me tell you, they could be difficult to control at times."-Phoenix
