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Post by fen on Jul 14, 2019 23:50:38 GMT -6
05/18/0386, Dhaka, India
The bustle of city life was punctuated with the symphony of whistles and boots on asphalt. Today was a semi-public showing of a new east territory defense facility built along the rim of the city; a collection of primed anti-ship guns. The armored six-wheel limo rolled down the streets flanked by military protection. A row of newly rolled out ALAs, MKIII ‘Cunningham’s formed a wall by the main street down to the facility, just feet away from a large canal that ran down the city.
The afternoon sun made travel noticeable, particularly for those attempting to approach the wall. Luckily, individuals with particular talents could find a way to use the crowds of passerby forming nearby for such a thing. Though there were plenty of soldiers, their attitude seemed lax. After all, with all these guns, no one would dare to try anything, right? The ESU’s Warthog patrolled the skies, a 6MW veteran ship, its old navy guns since swapped out with an array of potent anti-air and anti-AA weaponry.
The Ymir knelt at the bottom of the lake, a shimmering blue above it. It’s form was not entirely hidden beneath the lake’s veil from up above, but the lake was far enough away from civilization that it worked just as well as a hiding spot. Many of the nearby forests had already been cut down, either for urbanization or for future development.
It was… Oddly cold. The pilot bunched the neck of his jacket closer together, his gaze fixed intently on the map on his screen. A fish fluttered behind it, staring into the Ymir’s main camera.
“...sorry little guy, I’ll be out of here soon enough.”
The map showed the location of his team mates: Fran, Wren, Eve. They each had their roles to fill, and he too. Though he had his reservations about this operation, about their goal this time… It wasn’t enough to convince him to stay away. In any case, it wasn’t as if he had a choice in the matter.
“ETA on the target passing the confirmed point?” Came his voice on their reserved channel, a channel that had mostly remained quiet for the past two hours.
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cy
Little Twinkle
Posts: 4
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Post by cy on Jul 30, 2019 0:58:30 GMT -6
Francisco isn't a very patient person, that much is obvious. The operation is simple, at least, his instructions were simple for this part of the mission: watch and wait. Well, he could do both of those things, but that didn't mean he'd like it.
Here in an unfamiliar machine, his expression is stormier than usual until the voice of one of his teammates practically jolts him out of his moping.
"Shouldn't be long now," he says, leaning forward, hands already on the controls, as if he can't wait to wreak some havoc. "You all better be ready to move when it's time." As if they need to be told that.
Eyes on the streets, his face lights up as he spots it: their target vehicle. "Actually, scratch that, seems like it's time to get to work," he says, that insufferable grin on his face that the others can't see, but could certainly feel. "How long do we have? Three minutes? Five? Eh, that's plenty."
Without another word, a shot is fired from a certain ALA one would quickly realize was not manned by an ESU pilot, taking out one of the machines near the limo. The next shot... well, it misses, but the objective is more or less met: he spies the halting of the vehicle, senses the tension, the apprehension in the air rising -- and prepares to engage further opposition.
"Don't think they'll believe me if I say my hand slipped, huh?"
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Post by fen on Aug 5, 2019 20:04:49 GMT -6
The vehicle in front of the limo ruptured, spilling out fire onto the streets and sending the nearby crowds running. Screams filled the air as the armored limo and the rest of its convoy came to an abrupt stop. Whether from the nearby buildings or from the stopped vehicles, armored soldiers began to trickle out into the hysterical crowd. Their metallic armored suits made them appear more as robots than humans, but no one could deny the cubical heavy rifles in their hands. Flashes of blue streaked across their faceless, smooth helmets, indicating that they were active.
And looking for someone.
Latched high above, in the space between buildings flickered a multitude of mechanical eyes, each zooming into one of the six armored soldiers that had just entered the crowd. Their weapons were identified; heavy duty laser rifles designed for high-danger single target eradication. The armor was traced to the ESU’s special operations division, and any design weak points were quickly streamed to the bugs’ operator, though there were few...
Over the group's communications, there was a low whistle.
"Zoo wee mama," Tori's voice came through, sounding almost interested. Almost. "Special ops, bringing in the big guns. Try not to die, will you? I’d be missing out on at least half my entertainment if the two of you went out, so… I suggest not getting in their way, yeah?”
The clock was ticking as soldiers created a perimeter around the stopped vehicle, scanning the crowd as it began to thin out from fleeing pedestrians. Two of them moved closer to the destroyed vehicle, and to the surprise of spectators and cameras alike, they began to physically shove the charred wreck out of the way, urgently attempting to create space for the armored limo to slip by.
As for Fran, his neighbors didn't take too kindly to his actions, and his ALA's radio came to life. "AX-13 what is the meaning of this?!" The ALA just behind him swiveled its gun forward, hesitating to fire in fear of adding to the disaster. Uncertainty swept through them. "AX-13 if you do not respond in fifteen seconds we will be forced to-"
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dazy
Little Twinkle
Posts: 4
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Post by dazy on Aug 9, 2019 21:25:52 GMT -6
Wren was a bit disappointed that she didn't get to bring the Jabberwock this time around.
Perhaps that was foolish of her-- childish... but she held the machine in high regard. It was a friend to her, and a trusted comrade. So to now once again be taking to the ground on foot, alone in her position? Was it possible to feel lonely on a mission? Perhaps... open was a better word. Vulnerable.
But not weak or incapable by any means. Even as the soldiers began to filter out from the crowd and surround her objective, that confidence did not waver. She felt the fire ever burning in her belly, exiting her in warm breathes as she kept her breathing steady-- just as she was taught, just as she practiced, hour upon endless hour. She would succeed in her job, unexpected bump in the road or no.
(They did not look human. That made this all the easier for her--)
She was done hesitating, done biding her time. As the two soldiers separated from the group to push the wreckage out of the truck's path, she jumped from her hiding spot--
"I am moving in!"
--and drew her sword out from its sheath, fashioned to comfortably hug her back. She did not bother to cover her arms anymore, scaled skin and talon-like fingers giving off a iridescent glint as she exited the shadows of her previous position. Almost immediately she was spotted by one of the soldiers, and as quick as they were in pulling their weapon upon her, she was quicker. In a tight, well practiced maneuver she lowered her body and jumped forward, using her momentum to slide herself forward and behind the opposing soldier. With a cold gaze, she spent a moment examining the back of the solider before thrusting upwards towards what she determined to be the joint in their armor with her sword.
(Her sword... just like the Jabberwock, she felt a connection with it; a kinship. With an antique hilt of assiduously wrapped cloth forming the base for a blade of recent making, forged to be the bane of any modern armor, the sword could be considered a chimera of sorts. It did not know what it wished to be, nor what it could be called... it just was, and it would continue to be. In that way, it was just like her.)
And cut through armor it did, exiting the other side of the soldier coated in red. Wren wasted no time in gawking, and quickly pulled it back out towards her. Taking this small opening, she moved back to the truck and her objective. Reaching into a side back, she pulled out a small explosive device that was built specifically for this purpose. With a quick click, it was activated, and she placed it underneath the vehicle in a fashion obvious enough for others to notice.
She was supposed to run now. That has been in her briefing: her portion of the mission was dangerous, and she should disengage as quickly as possible to avoid trouble. However, as she turned, she noticed the remaining soldiers already beginning to surround her, guns pointed on her.
Her grip tightened on her sword, the corners of her vision growing a bit black. She could still run, she was more dexterous than these armored individuals. It would be sketchy, but she has no doubt she could make it. And yet...
He would be impressed with her, would he not? Should she take these soldiers down... and she knew she could, there was nothing stopping her...
And thus she jumped forward into the fray once again, brandishing her sword, aiming to draw as much blood from these creatures as possible.
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Post by fen on Aug 11, 2019 20:14:22 GMT -6
The seconds ticked by. The bomb would explode in five- just enough time for her to slide it underneath the vehicle and move just far enough away. It wasn’t meant to destroy the car; it was too well protected for that, a suitable explosive would risk innocent lives. While many people had already fled the scene, there were still onlookers within the buildings and hiding behind anything they thought could protect them.
Following a garbled scream came a wave of scarlet. The husk of the soldier fell forward, the heavy armor sealing their fate. Another scream followed- an onlooker caught the sight of the slain soldier and the lightly armored, blade-drawn figure just behind it. A silhouette of red and black beat down on their vision.
One of the two soldiers that had split at the beginning turned, its visor locking on Wren and glowing a bright red now. The soldier swung its heavy rifle upwards, but they had been too slow-
Wren had caught onto their acknowledgement of her, and she had quickly changed her course. With a shocking swiftness, she closed the distance between herself and the soldier, eyes focused upon her mark: the weak armor around the joint of their wrist.
For a blade built to slice through armor with the right angle, flesh and bone were trivial.
With her mark now disarmed, rifle clambering to the ground with a splatter of red following, she wasted no time in going for the killing blow, this time aiming to send her sword right through the throat of her enemy.
But she could only move so fast, and the advantage she gained through her surprise attack was fading…
The rifle fell to the ground with hands still attached; not long after the head followed. Though her attacks were swift, at this point there were multiple witnesses. Some of them armed.
She could hear… Static, faintly, as if there was another low frequency comm range being used nearby.
A boom disarmed her temporarily, as the armored limo hopped in place with the force of the explosion. The front doors swung open with the selfsame force, expelling concussed bodies. The momentary distraction was enough- Wren felt a sharp pain in her blade arm, that seemed to grow and grow…
The pain subsided as she her breath left her body. One of the soldiers had caught her unawares, and with a swift shove she was knocked to the ground with them displacing as much of their weight onto her as possible to keep her there. A sharp ringing sound echoed through her skull, the taste of asphalt was hard to ignore, as did the iron…
Yet still, she could hear that static.
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dazy
Little Twinkle
Posts: 4
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Post by dazy on Aug 11, 2019 20:17:53 GMT -6
Unfortunately for Wren, while her strange body blessed her with a menagerie of useful quirks and advantages for battle and survival, strength was not one of them. Surely, she had the muscle a woman of her stature and physical fitness would and it was nothing to underestimate, but to be placed in such a compromising position, with an armored soldier’s full weight on her?
She knew she was stuck. She was in trouble.
Forgetting to acknowledge the effects the blast would have on her was careless and a testament to her naive nature. Her tunnel-vision got the better of her, and now she lay feeling the punishments pressing hard against her bones, and tasting the blood in her mouth.
(What was that static?! It was making it even harder to think, driving her mad! She couldn’t think, she couldn’t do anything. She needed— them.)
Wren wasn’t even sure if her communication was active, and she didn’t have the time or physical capability to check. So with a shaky voice, gruff with the pressure of her throat against the asphalt, she called out:
“F-Fran… Cain… Eve…” She swallowed with noticeably difficulty. “I need… assistance—“
As she spoke, she felt the sword attempted to be pushed out of her grasp despite her desperate clinging onto it. The sword that she projected herself onto and related with, the sword that he gave her...
Her blade skittered across the ground as the force of another soldier’s foot came crashing down against her arm. There was a distinct crack of bone that came with it, but at this point the static had grown to the point where that faded into the background as soon as it came. She could hear words being exchanged between the two soldiers, albeit faintly, and the killing intent that came from both of them.
Though she being crushed against the asphalt, she could barely make out the sound of a threat to remain still amidst the static, and the sensation of a hefty barrel being pressed to her temple.
And yet, all she could focus on was one thing.
Her sword—
Everything was a dull hum without it in her hand. The pain, nothing. The fear and terror of having death placed against her head… nothing. It might be concerning, should she get the chance to think back upon it, or from the view of another mind, but for Wren only one thing matters.
She would not lose that precious thing, no matter what. No matter what reality befell her, she would defy it, for that sword.
And so she clenched her fist against the pavement, and let out a loud yell. Was it from the pain, or the anger? It was all so numb. She hardly knew how she was acting, or how. All she knew was she felt such a burning fire of desire in her gut to get up, to get to her sword…
And the next thing she knew, her arm had pulled itself free, hitting the rifle away from her head, and she was shoving herself so hard off the pavement, she jostled the soldier enough to roll herself free. She kicked upwards, furthering the distance and allowing herself the free moment to shoot forward and grab back onto the hilt of her sword.
(She did not feel the pain, but her arm still hung rather loosely at her side, the muscle and bone weakened and broken.)
Despite that though, she still flung herself forward into the fray again, a wild rage behind her gaze. She was a phoenix, prepared to scorch the Earth with her virulence. These soldiers were villains, terrible monsters perpetuating violence and cruelty. She knew, because he told her. So, like a wildfire, she would burn them down so new life could rise up!
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brie
Little Twinkle
Posts: 1
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Post by brie on Aug 20, 2019 11:58:56 GMT -6
“One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy, five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret, never to be told.” Eve recited in a murmur, peering into the scope of her rifle. She had been watching the others’ exploits from her hiding spot— biding her time. “Eight for a wish, nine for a kiss, ten for a bird, you must not m—”
A strained voice crackled into her ear. Hm? Upon hearing Wren’s plea, Eve’s nursery rhyme came to an abrupt halt. She let out a sigh and began to follow the scene before her; her scope’s crosshairs slowly hovered onto Wren then to her assailants. Eve wasn’t sure what she was looking at, but it definitely wasn’t the objective.
Instead of offering assistance, Eve withdrew from her position, stretching her arms and legs. Playing the waiting game was bad for blood circulation. Sure, there were more pressing matters at hand—… but her interference wasn’t necessary.
Lo and behold Wren was back on her feet. At least that’s what the commotion suggested.
“Sorry,” Eve said. Her smile was detectable. “A sniper revealing her position would be pretty silly, right? Hmn—… one mistake and all our hard work would’ve gone down the drain. I hate leaving things like this up to chance...” A pause. “— but you guys don’t seem to mind.”
It was likely that her words fell on deaf ears, but Eve wasn’t looking for a response. She had continued watching from her scope.
“Remember. I don’t treat injuries that could’ve been avoided.”
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cy
Little Twinkle
Posts: 4
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Post by cy on Aug 21, 2019 3:04:23 GMT -6
He's already dismounting from the unfamiliar ALA when he hears Wren's entreaty, shaking his head as he shoves his way past soldier and panicked civilian alike (though, he couldn't resist the allure of bashing in a head or two on his way over — don't look at him that way, the chaos allowed for it and it wasn't like he was targeting anyone from the latter category, and hey, those guys'll probably suffer only mild concussions!).
As he draws closer to Wren, he lets out that characteristic "Tch," though whether he's unhappy because the other seems to be faring relatively well after all, or because she's seen a fair bit of action and he wishes she'd saved more for him is difficult to ascertain. What can be garnered, however, is that he wants to hurry up and get the hell out of here.
His voice over the comms has a somewhat irritated edge, but for Francisco, that's de rigueur: "Look, I'm in the middle of this circus right now, and you know I could do this 'beating the shit out of people' thing all day, but we don't have all day and these guys are kind of a pain. You two spot the target yet, or do I gotta drag him out myself, because at this point I really wouldn't mind doing the honors!"
Multitasking, dodging guards more occupied with Wren, elbowing and forcing his way past those who looked at him funny, that might realize his behavior wasn't at all appropriate for the current atmosphere — well, not appropriate if he wasn't somehow in on it in some capacity. Gun in his hand, but the safety's still on — he really hadn't anticipated needing it and he had to scramble to Wren's location or else he would've prepared himself upon leaving the cockpit — and besides it's a (as he so eloquently puts it) troublesome piece of shit so, if anything, he's just using it to bludgeon people over the head as he attempts to attract Wren's attention, wave of his arm and a look that says: Don't have go having too much fun, we're supposed to be getting out of here.
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Post by fen on Aug 26, 2019 0:04:07 GMT -6
A colossus of blue emerged from the lake, water crashing off its form as its thrusters flared and launched it towards the city. A streak of bright yellow as its mono-eye flashed was the only warning the inhabitants got as it skidded on asphalt, coming to a halt in front of the procession, its blade drawn and shield out. Hunched forward with steam still coming off its armor, the Ymir’s appearance was a surprise for everyone involved.
Almost immediately it drew the attention of the ALAs stationed around the procession, and the screams of fright from civilians and ESU workers alike.
“Change of plans! I’m not going to sit around and watch this… Thing get you all killed-”
Almost immediately it was met with a barrage of cannon fire, and a cascade of smoke followed. The Ymir raised its shield, its blade scraping along the ground as it surveyed its surroundings for an opening. There were too many people, the space was too cramped- and there was the worry of getting Fran caught in the collateral if he just rushed forward.
“Damn it, damn-” A stray blast hit the Ymir in the face, causing it to step backwards. Every second glance he took, the same answer came back. You can’t go forward. They’ll die. He’ll die. You’re making a mistake. Stop. But he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t. The thought of him dying again, in front of him, while he could still change it-
“GET AWAY FROM THE CAR!”
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Fran wrested a guard away from Wren as she broke free, but although the two of them were mostly free (and still in the presence of violent, armored guards) there was still the matter of their target. Before any of them could reason what to do, their comms came alive with a single sentence.
GET AWAY FROM THE CAR!
Only a handful of seconds later, a blade came crashing down into the armored limo, tearing it asunder. The carcass bent and creaked as it was slowly torn in two, and the impact knocked everyone- including the guards, off their feet. In the case of Wren, who was already half crawling off the ground, she had a distinct advantage now.
But more importantly, as the dust settled they could see the image of two other guards, dragging a shocked and dazed man in a white suit away from the wreck.
“H-huh—… What did I just say...?” Eve asked in exasperation—strained laughter escaping her lips. “I couldn’t think of a better way to get everyone killed!”
The sniper jumped to her feet and ripped the comm link from her ear. Balling her hand into a fist, she hurled the device as far as her arm would allow. Eve could feel her blood begin to boil before screaming at the top of her lungs.
“FUCKING BASTARDS—-!!!!”
She needed that; tantrums could be very therapeutic. As if she’d flipped a switch, Eve quickly readied herself for action. Like hell would she just let the target flee after she’d waited so intently. What a joke. Without hesitation, Eve propped her foot onto the ledge and angled her rifle towards the commotion. Her colleagues may have jeopardized the operation, but an impromptu distraction was still a distraction. Through her scope, Eve eyed the white suited man and steadied her aim. His head would’ve been ideal, but the 700m between her and absolute chaos heightened the risk. What a joke. Eve zeroed in on the white suit’s neck as she pulled the trigger. It felt short and sweet— not that the girl had expected euphoria or sparks.
Lowering her rifle, Evelyn’s eyes stared vacantly into the distance. The sweetness on her tongue had become bitter.
————
Everything was still a low roar in Wren’s ears. As the sword came down and the guards were sent flying off balance, the red that had begun to paint the corners of her vision began to fade.
She blinked, breath labored and shaking as she realized the gravity of the situation. The dull throbbing of her broken arm was beginning to register in her mind as sharp stabbing pains, and she winced as she moved to get to her feet.
(Despite her physical and mental condition, she did not loosen her grip on that sword.)
Then the shout from Eve, the gunshot, and the blood…
Hawk’s words echoed in her mind: There is a time and place for everything, but not now. Focus on the mission! It was accomplished, certainly! And she had made her point. Hawk would most definitely be impressed with her—
So she moved to her advantage, aiming her sword at the nearest guard, ready the slash should they try to impede her exit. ————
"Shit!" He's practically spitting it out as he shoves himself to his feet. He's considering thanking Cain for the help — because at the end of the day, he had allowed for just the type of chaos that made for a great distraction — but he hears Eve first and finds himself feeling as though he's in trouble.
— But Eve is over there, and the soldiers are over here and aren't we glad for that? No, not really, he thinks as he takes his leave of the scene, taking one last passing glance at Wren who, thankfully, is on her feet.
Francisco reminds himself that isn't in charge of Wren, and he's certainly not anything close to a babysitter, so with the gunshot and the chaos, he figures he's allowed to exit stage left. Without so much as a glance behind he takes advantage of the cover provided by Cain and mutters a belated thanks into his comm link before (as far as anyone on the scene was concerned) disappearing into thin air.
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The shot hung in the air, from her distance it would be difficult to cover up. The reward? The fallen husk of their target was splayed against the ground, a bloody pool forming somewhere underneath his upper chest and neck. A guard was frantically attempting to resucite him on the sidewalk beside the street, while the other tried to call over their allies. Amidst it all, the sight of Fran realizing what had happened and making a sudden break for it. The quiet ‘thanks’ was barely registered by Cain as the ALAs showered him in cannonfire.
The Ymir’s frame could hold the blasts easily, but his tactical experience with the ESU and what they had just managed to achieve meant that reinforcements would arrive soon. Bigger, better armed reinforcements. At the center of it all: a furious, rampaging Wren. She cut through another guard with an inhuman rage, and through the blood Cain could feel a fury swell up inside him. First the assassination, and now this? Murdering people in broad daylight, with no regards for others? Putting themselves and their allies in danger?
“If you want to act like an animal, then I’ll be sure to treat you like one.”
One of the final guards to have assaulted Wren held his arms up to defend himself from her swift attack, and her blade wedged itself into his armor and bone, but before she could wrest it free, the hand of Ymir came crashing down, caging her. With a flare of its thrusters it kicked off the ground, launching deeper into the city, towards their rendezvous point.
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