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3/6/2016 11:58:22 PM
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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]
English
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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."
