Thoryne meanders over to the Vantichrist and raps on the roof with his knuckles. He leans down to address Axel through the driver's window.
"Omae, the entrance is rigged to blow. It should come down nicely. Only catch is that the remote detonator won't work so hot out here. I figure I got maybe thirty meters range, tops. Just so's you know."
Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
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Drew Buddy
- Posts: 1488
- Joined: Sun Oct 30, 2011 7:06 pm
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Axel blinks away the shift from VR to meastpace, sticks his elbow on the drive's window sill, and cranes his head toward the booths, as if looking at it would make the explosive rigging self-evident.
"Good to know, chummer. We might need it." The air feels electric with the threat of violence lurking like a shadow from the deep, beneath a calm surface of tedium. "If we have to bail, blow the booths. If we have to run in, blow the booths as we're leaving. I'm trusting you can time that as we drive by on our way out?"
His eyes focus on the middle distance as he checks his AR feed. He looks at the thermal blotch that he's labelled "Akela", and his eyes trace an invisible line to the bridge.
<<Akela, I've got you at–>>
(( Just want to answer Yung's request about how far from the bridge he is. ))
"Good to know, chummer. We might need it." The air feels electric with the threat of violence lurking like a shadow from the deep, beneath a calm surface of tedium. "If we have to bail, blow the booths. If we have to run in, blow the booths as we're leaving. I'm trusting you can time that as we drive by on our way out?"
His eyes focus on the middle distance as he checks his AR feed. He looks at the thermal blotch that he's labelled "Akela", and his eyes trace an invisible line to the bridge.
<<Akela, I've got you at–>>
(( Just want to answer Yung's request about how far from the bridge he is. ))
Last edited by Drew Buddy on Wed Nov 10, 2021 3:19 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Mick's assessment of the tent is at once both instantaneous and irrelevant. Everything inside their conscious mind calls out to pull back a moment, evaluate the best course of action, and proceed cautiously.
But it doesn't matter.
The cloud of blood slithers through Mick's skull, wrapping around their brain like a thick blanket of sarin fog and washing over their vision. All the world goes red. Their vision clouds-but-doesn't as the fog reaches around their brain and floods over their optic nerves, coating the scene in a deep, sanguine syrup. The tiny hairs on the waifish ork's arms and legs and neck stand at full attention like electrified cilia, screaming to get their way.
And they always get their way.
There's simply nothing to be done; they need to release the pressure. Maybe they wouldn't be drowning in an insatiable need for violence if it hadn't been for the very real gore smeared all across Bongoland, but the levees of Mick's mind can only hold back the crushing bloodstorm surge for so long. The red deepens impossibly– from cherry, to brown, to black, and further into a fathomless achromatic abyss. Vantablack, but blacker. Impenetrable to all light that might incur and blast away the irrevocable darkness.
The ork is moving before they even know it– unconsciously compelled at the very core of their being. The meat doesn't have a mind of its own because the action is completely mindless, innate; inevitable.
There would be blood.
(( Stealth roll to approach [ + Edge > Second Chance if I biff the stealth roll ], called shot for a good ol'-fashioned neck-breakin' + Edge > Push the Limit ))
But it doesn't matter.
The cloud of blood slithers through Mick's skull, wrapping around their brain like a thick blanket of sarin fog and washing over their vision. All the world goes red. Their vision clouds-but-doesn't as the fog reaches around their brain and floods over their optic nerves, coating the scene in a deep, sanguine syrup. The tiny hairs on the waifish ork's arms and legs and neck stand at full attention like electrified cilia, screaming to get their way.
And they always get their way.
There's simply nothing to be done; they need to release the pressure. Maybe they wouldn't be drowning in an insatiable need for violence if it hadn't been for the very real gore smeared all across Bongoland, but the levees of Mick's mind can only hold back the crushing bloodstorm surge for so long. The red deepens impossibly– from cherry, to brown, to black, and further into a fathomless achromatic abyss. Vantablack, but blacker. Impenetrable to all light that might incur and blast away the irrevocable darkness.
The ork is moving before they even know it– unconsciously compelled at the very core of their being. The meat doesn't have a mind of its own because the action is completely mindless, innate; inevitable.
There would be blood.
(( Stealth roll to approach [ + Edge > Second Chance if I biff the stealth roll ], called shot for a good ol'-fashioned neck-breakin' + Edge > Push the Limit ))
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Dice Rolls
In the ocean that is Mick's subconscious something massive skims though dark currents. The ork can feel the frigid depths and yearns to bathe in hot blood. Their hands float to the Smile's neck.
Churning water, black in the moonlight.
Mick's strong fingers sink into the folds of flesh beneath the ganger's chin.
Rows and rows and rows of razors; a fractal of murder.
Beneath the warm skin Mick's probing digits find the rigid resistance of bone.
Feast.
The sinew in Mick's triceps lifts and their scapula bulges as they squeeze.
The Smile's eyes pop open but Mick knows that they can't see the tent, just the sordid perversions locked away in the stim cassette. It's a biological response to the trauma. Cartilage starts to crack and splinter. The Smile turns ever so slightly, greasy mouth parting in an attempt to raise alarm. But it's too late.
Mick jerks to one side, using the momentum and their iron grip to finish the deed. There's a soft crunching sound as the Smile's larynx is crushed and the cervical vertebrae separate from one another. The ganger spasms once and then exhales slowly, head lolling at a bizarre angle. A fleeting pulse fades to nothing under Mick's hands.
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
A bridge, a great divide. A juxtaposition, meant to keep hostile forces at bay, yet provide safe passage to travelers across still waters. In this instance, likely the former; but ineffective. Nonetheless, it remains the most effective avenue of egress.
Not long now...a slight glow of the eastern horizon, muted due to the weather.
The pack leader can’t leave two stranded...exposed as the veil is lifted; even worse, with no means of escape.
He sends a message to Thoryne, < Oye, big man, you keep these meatbags safe eh. That da biz. But maybe cover my hoop too, yeah? >
It’s time...
Yung moves towards the convention center, trying to find what cover he can in the dilapidated remains of what used to be some kind of natural aesthetic to the north between the ticket booth and the bridge.
(( Sneaking forward to the bridge. ))
Not long now...a slight glow of the eastern horizon, muted due to the weather.
The pack leader can’t leave two stranded...exposed as the veil is lifted; even worse, with no means of escape.
He sends a message to Thoryne, < Oye, big man, you keep these meatbags safe eh. That da biz. But maybe cover my hoop too, yeah? >
It’s time...
Yung moves towards the convention center, trying to find what cover he can in the dilapidated remains of what used to be some kind of natural aesthetic to the north between the ticket booth and the bridge.
(( Sneaking forward to the bridge. ))
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Yung - Sneaking Skill Check
The bridge materializes in the haze of droplets as he slinks forward; a girthy concrete affair supported by rusty trusses and decorated with worn cobble. A dilapidated lychgate stands at the edge of the bridge, bedizened with washed out plastic letters that form the park's name. Yung notes idly that someone has removed an O, dubbing the park BONGLAND. He ducks behind one side of the lychgate and glances around the corner.
An ork Smile stands in the middle of the bridge, immersed in the fruitless act of trying to light a cigarette while fully exposed to the elements; a fortuitous circumstance for Yung who remains unnoticed.
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Mick's hands remain locked around the ganger's neck. His mouth hangs slack, and Mick thinks with unamused irony that they seem to have solved a riddle of the sort that their father might have posed to them when they were little– 'How do you make a Smile frown, Guppie?' The thought came in their father's voice, swimming warbly and otherworldly through leagues and leagues of psychic gore.
And the blood doesn't abate. It never does when the violence starts. The thing about chumming the waters is that it doesn't satisfy the cartilaginous monster swimming through their soul. Blood in the water doesn't simply dissipate– it blooms and expands, blotting out more and more of the world as it goes. Attracting more monsters. More violence.
It won't be the first time the ork has tried to clamp down on the be-razored demon in their heart and stop its feeding frenzy. If Mick succeeds, it won't be the first time for that, either. Nor will it be if they fail.
The strain races through Mick's metacarpals with a persistent tremor, their digits aching and ablaze in the throes of the adept's death grip. Slowly, they release the tension. The effort breaks like silence. Seemingly all at once, Mick pulls away a pair of wildly trembling mitts, drained of all their energy and somehow grayer than they had been before, frail.
Mick raises the back of their trembling right hand to their face and wipes a slick of sweat from their upper lip, recoiling less than they would normally at the sour stench of the Smile's sweat, greasy and seething on their palm.
The ork wipes their hands on their pants, withdraws the comm from its seat at their sternum, and types out a message with vibrating digits. The screen bounces and jostles in their grip, like trying to read a novel in the backseat when the driver is letting it rip off-road.
< Killedd smiile.. Ffouund 1 llomne star box. Sstandvyy.. >
Mick re-nests the comm and tries to regulate their breathing, the blood still swimming all through their vision, their meat, their thoughts. They look between the Lone Star crate and the frowning Smile, the vibration in their body cycling down like an imbalanced centrifuge, rising and falling unevenly in rolling waves. They should pause, slow down. They should investigate the crate more. They should investigate the rag-dolled mountain of mid-mortem meat, moldering and putrid in the corner. But they need to see in the third tent. They need to see if the second Lone Star crate is there. Or they need to keep chumming the waters. To keep feeding the monster.
Mick doesn't know which.
(( I want to roll stealth + Push the Limit to grab a look under the corner of the third tent, obviously trying to be very stealthy about stealing a peek. ))
And the blood doesn't abate. It never does when the violence starts. The thing about chumming the waters is that it doesn't satisfy the cartilaginous monster swimming through their soul. Blood in the water doesn't simply dissipate– it blooms and expands, blotting out more and more of the world as it goes. Attracting more monsters. More violence.
It won't be the first time the ork has tried to clamp down on the be-razored demon in their heart and stop its feeding frenzy. If Mick succeeds, it won't be the first time for that, either. Nor will it be if they fail.
The strain races through Mick's metacarpals with a persistent tremor, their digits aching and ablaze in the throes of the adept's death grip. Slowly, they release the tension. The effort breaks like silence. Seemingly all at once, Mick pulls away a pair of wildly trembling mitts, drained of all their energy and somehow grayer than they had been before, frail.
Mick raises the back of their trembling right hand to their face and wipes a slick of sweat from their upper lip, recoiling less than they would normally at the sour stench of the Smile's sweat, greasy and seething on their palm.
The ork wipes their hands on their pants, withdraws the comm from its seat at their sternum, and types out a message with vibrating digits. The screen bounces and jostles in their grip, like trying to read a novel in the backseat when the driver is letting it rip off-road.
< Killedd smiile.. Ffouund 1 llomne star box. Sstandvyy.. >
Mick re-nests the comm and tries to regulate their breathing, the blood still swimming all through their vision, their meat, their thoughts. They look between the Lone Star crate and the frowning Smile, the vibration in their body cycling down like an imbalanced centrifuge, rising and falling unevenly in rolling waves. They should pause, slow down. They should investigate the crate more. They should investigate the rag-dolled mountain of mid-mortem meat, moldering and putrid in the corner. But they need to see in the third tent. They need to see if the second Lone Star crate is there. Or they need to keep chumming the waters. To keep feeding the monster.
Mick doesn't know which.
(( I want to roll stealth + Push the Limit to grab a look under the corner of the third tent, obviously trying to be very stealthy about stealing a peek. ))
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Heartbeat racing, pounding in his ears like a jackhammer, drowning out the rain. But this is a familiar high, a welcome euphoria that will take minutes to bottle back up and perform any kind of rational thought; but there are no minutes to spare.
< Hey chummers, if things go sideways it was nice knowing you all, only if for a night. >
Yung leans around the outside of the bridge, appraising the cobbled facade that has worn away in places.
Perfect for climbing.
He places his hands on the outside edge of the bridge railing and searches for a small ledge or indentation to give him enough purchase with his foot, before finally committing to the action.
(( Gymnastics to shimmy along the outer edge of the bridge toward the smile. ))
< Hey chummers, if things go sideways it was nice knowing you all, only if for a night. >
Yung leans around the outside of the bridge, appraising the cobbled facade that has worn away in places.
Perfect for climbing.
He places his hands on the outside edge of the bridge railing and searches for a small ledge or indentation to give him enough purchase with his foot, before finally committing to the action.
(( Gymnastics to shimmy along the outer edge of the bridge toward the smile. ))
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Yung - Gymnastics Skill Check
Yung - Sneaking Skill Check
At the bridge's mid-point, Yung hoists himself up by slowly positioning a leg on the bridge and then rolling into a crouch.
The bandolier-clad Smile has wandered away from the railing and stands guard, facing the entrance and sucking on an Alpaca 100. He's positioned just a few meters from Yung, who remains undetected.
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Silently stalking, the wolf is ready to pounce on his prey. Yung slinks off the wall of the bridge and advances towards the unaware ork reaching his arms out in an attempt to grab him with a clinching maneuver.
(( Active Attribute Boost AGI, Killing Hands. Clinching maneuver. ))
(( Active Attribute Boost AGI, Killing Hands. Clinching maneuver. ))
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Mick - Sneaking Skill Check
"It ain't no Red-10, Rusty. It's just some squatter come grokking for vittles."
The floor is cold as Mick carefully prostrates and they suppress a shiver. They inch forward and use an index finger to lift the wrinkled canvas. Mick pushes their face against the angle between floor and opening and peers through.
Four figures are gathered in a circle at the center of the tent: a dwarf dressed in colorful and gaudy stage clothes, sporting a bone through his septum; a human wearing a tattered Vashon Island business suit dyed bright green with matching face paint; another dwarf wearing a patch-work lined coat with (what Mick considers) traditional clown makeup; and another figure that's just out of the angle of their view. All of the scoundrels gathered in the tent bear the trade-mark scarring of the Smile gang. They're armed, as well. Mick picks out a katana, an UZI V, and some kind of shillelagh.
A rack of additional blunt and blade instruments is situated in the rear of the tent. Next to the rack is a pile of boxes, which Mick scans quickly. Indigo Arms. Chiappa Pharm. Soldat Supply... their eyes widen. Lone Star: The unmistakable logo blazes in the light of an LED lantern. The crate bearing the insignia is identical to the one in the tent they had just left.
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Dice Rolls
Two-yen yelps in surprise and thrashes against Yung. "Fuck off of me, cunt! I'll fuck out your eyes," he screams hoarsely, spittle flying from his mouth. The Smile pumps his legs and twists left and right but Yung's grip is solid.
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
< Hostile engaged amigos >
Yung drives his knee into the ribs of Two-yen.
(( Killing Hands, Penetrating Strike, Superior Position ))
Yung drives his knee into the ribs of Two-yen.
(( Killing Hands, Penetrating Strike, Superior Position ))
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Drew Buddy
- Posts: 1488
- Joined: Sun Oct 30, 2011 7:06 pm
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Axel stares at the roof of the van, his imagination filling in the wolf standing on the roof.
"T-Bone, after this you don't get to complain that I never take you anywhere fun," he says to both the car and air in equal measure.
His planned program sits in the corner of his AR feed, and his eyes catch a faint lightening of the horizon. He lets out an exasperated breath, as if it will expel the terror and boredom waging a war for his full attention. He casts a glance back to the rear of the van. Doug sits silently, waiting for a command like an ancient warrior waiting for the word of power that will wake it from its slumber. He keys in a command to the Fly-Spy to maintain altitude, and switch to the onboard pilot, and then starts working on his command console. Adjustments made, he reboots the device, and waits for the scrolling text to resolve into the familiar Maser Industrial Electronics logo. Satisfied with the results, he leans back just as his comm channel buzzes with Akela's message.
"Folks, might be trouble. Get in!"
(( RCC config: drop noise cancellation from 5 to 3, and bump Sharing to 2. Run 2 programs: Targeting Autosoft (Cavalier Frontier), and Virtual Machine, which will then run Smartsoft (smartgun program) and Signal scrub, to bring noise cancellation back up to 5 (plus the 2 already running from his antennae 'ware). ))
"T-Bone, after this you don't get to complain that I never take you anywhere fun," he says to both the car and air in equal measure.
His planned program sits in the corner of his AR feed, and his eyes catch a faint lightening of the horizon. He lets out an exasperated breath, as if it will expel the terror and boredom waging a war for his full attention. He casts a glance back to the rear of the van. Doug sits silently, waiting for a command like an ancient warrior waiting for the word of power that will wake it from its slumber. He keys in a command to the Fly-Spy to maintain altitude, and switch to the onboard pilot, and then starts working on his command console. Adjustments made, he reboots the device, and waits for the scrolling text to resolve into the familiar Maser Industrial Electronics logo. Satisfied with the results, he leans back just as his comm channel buzzes with Akela's message.
"Folks, might be trouble. Get in!"
(( RCC config: drop noise cancellation from 5 to 3, and bump Sharing to 2. Run 2 programs: Targeting Autosoft (Cavalier Frontier), and Virtual Machine, which will then run Smartsoft (smartgun program) and Signal scrub, to bring noise cancellation back up to 5 (plus the 2 already running from his antennae 'ware). ))
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Mick hungers at the sight of the Smiles in the tent, the call to violence feeling so utterly correct. But they have too much riding on this, and they need so badly to not frag everything up again. Carefully, they back out of the tent and return to the previous, backing into the corner adjacent to the opening across from where the dead Smile lies slumped. Considering their options, they remove the comm from its pouch.
The ork attempts to keep an ear out as they type, < Might b about time 2 get noisy, shitheads. Taggged 2nd crattee. > Mick wondered if their self-inclusion in the band of shitheads carried through. And the tremor hadn't dissipated entirety, it seemed. < 4 :)s in tent w 2nd cr8. Make noiz, draw out. Corpo, shoot fuckrs if need 2. If draww all away, we grab cr8s and circle back way we came in, meet at orig locationn. > The ork sets to the brief work of making the dead Smile appear as though he's simply passed out in the throes of whatever simulated horror brings such a creature pleasure. < Could go 2 drek fast. Could work. > It was the best a shithead could do on the fly.
Considering whether it would be best to leave the crate where it is for when the Smiles check the tent, which they probably would. 'Frag it, there's no right answer here,' they think to themselves, moving to pick up the box of goods and slip into the third tent to hide against the entrance closest to where any investigative Smiles would most likely come looking from the scene of the dead one's last yankfest.
(( Obviously, I'll rework if the crate is too large for this action. ))
The ork attempts to keep an ear out as they type, < Might b about time 2 get noisy, shitheads. Taggged 2nd crattee. > Mick wondered if their self-inclusion in the band of shitheads carried through. And the tremor hadn't dissipated entirety, it seemed. < 4 :)s in tent w 2nd cr8. Make noiz, draw out. Corpo, shoot fuckrs if need 2. If draww all away, we grab cr8s and circle back way we came in, meet at orig locationn. > The ork sets to the brief work of making the dead Smile appear as though he's simply passed out in the throes of whatever simulated horror brings such a creature pleasure. < Could go 2 drek fast. Could work. > It was the best a shithead could do on the fly.
Considering whether it would be best to leave the crate where it is for when the Smiles check the tent, which they probably would. 'Frag it, there's no right answer here,' they think to themselves, moving to pick up the box of goods and slip into the third tent to hide against the entrance closest to where any investigative Smiles would most likely come looking from the scene of the dead one's last yankfest.
(( Obviously, I'll rework if the crate is too large for this action. ))
Last edited by John on Thu Nov 11, 2021 11:29 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Yung's strained voice announcing his engagement crackles over Taipan's audio feed just as the dimly illuminated text from Mick's hastily scrawled messages scrolls by in his AR feed. The sudden flurry of comms chatter is a coarse counterpoint to Mick's neatly executed infiltration of the quiet scene below, one that presages an inexorable descent into an entirely new chapter in the story of this particular night.
Taipan kneels, every synthetic muscle fiber in a paradoxical state between rigid and relaxed, the foregrip of the rifle resting lightly on the mezzanine railing. A soft click bounces off the convention center walls, registering loud in his enhanced hearing as he flicks the rifle's fire selector from 'safe' to 'burst.'
<<Copy. Weapons hot.>>
Taipan kneels, every synthetic muscle fiber in a paradoxical state between rigid and relaxed, the foregrip of the rifle resting lightly on the mezzanine railing. A soft click bounces off the convention center walls, registering loud in his enhanced hearing as he flicks the rifle's fire selector from 'safe' to 'burst.'
<<Copy. Weapons hot.>>
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Dice Rolls
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Using the momentum of his failed elbow jab, Yung twists Two-yen’s body and slides a couple of meters towards the side of the bridge. During the weaving waltz Yung applies downward force with the hand still clenching Two-yen's neck attempting to drive his head into the concrete barrier.
(( Killing Hands, Superior Position, using the environment just for flavor. ))
(( Killing Hands, Superior Position, using the environment just for flavor. ))
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Mouse doesn’t need to be told twice. The decker is already primed to bolt, and words ‘Hostile Engaged’ hit like a starting gun. She gives T-Bone a quick smack to the tail-light as she skids around the corner of the van and pulls herself inside. <<Team T-Bone inc. IKZ!>>
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
It’s finally go-time, and Reiya is ready. She stands up, braced for action, quickly considering how best to run alongside the van. Then the shaman grins, her tongue lolling out in pure pleasure. She walks to a spot not far from the front of the van and locks eyes briefly with Axel before leaping onto the top of the van.
The Vantichrist, somewhat to her surprise, stays silent: perhaps the ancient van has better survival instincts than she initially realized. Reiya considers what she can grab onto on the roof of the van; fortunately, amidst the rough metal and its scattered constellation of paint, there are cross bars for cargo. The three horizontal bars are placed surprisingly well for her body length, and she braces her back feet against the middle bar, hooking her forepaws around the front bar.
This is absolutely insane. And awesome. She’s tempted to howl in delight, but that might bring too many Smiles to the party. She lets out a small satisfied woof and taps the top of the windshield to let Axel know (hopefully) that she’s ready.
This is such a bad idea. But why the fuck not? She grins. Will she still have motion sickness as a wolf, and on top of the van? We’ll soon find out.
The Vantichrist, somewhat to her surprise, stays silent: perhaps the ancient van has better survival instincts than she initially realized. Reiya considers what she can grab onto on the roof of the van; fortunately, amidst the rough metal and its scattered constellation of paint, there are cross bars for cargo. The three horizontal bars are placed surprisingly well for her body length, and she braces her back feet against the middle bar, hooking her forepaws around the front bar.
This is absolutely insane. And awesome. She’s tempted to howl in delight, but that might bring too many Smiles to the party. She lets out a small satisfied woof and taps the top of the windshield to let Axel know (hopefully) that she’s ready.
This is such a bad idea. But why the fuck not? She grins. Will she still have motion sickness as a wolf, and on top of the van? We’ll soon find out.
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Dice rolls
Two-yen's head splatters like a rotten pumpkin. Fragments of skull and bloody gray matter slop out and spill over the side of the bridge.
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
<Hostile neutralized, I don't think our cover is blown yet. Axel, can the eye in the sky see if any tangos are moving in my direction?>
Yung appraises the limp body lying on the floor of the bridge.
Better him than me.
He crouches back down below the railing to remain hidden while waiting for a response from Axel.
Yung appraises the limp body lying on the floor of the bridge.
Better him than me.
He crouches back down below the railing to remain hidden while waiting for a response from Axel.
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Drew Buddy
- Posts: 1488
- Joined: Sun Oct 30, 2011 7:06 pm
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Axel removes his hand from the column shifter as the latest comm chatter arrives. If he's honest, he's relieved to not have to charge headlong into danger with what could generously be called half a plan, and only if you squinted really hard.
But he's also surprised at the surge of disappointment, the sensation of a built-up energy crackling in the air, with nowhere to go. A head of steam trapped in its vessel. His sigh is comes from a depth he didn't know he has, and his hand moves from the column shifter to the ignition. The sputtering engine dies, giving way to the patter of rain, and ticking of cooling metal.
<<Yeah, gimme a sec.>> He brings up the AR feed and swipes through it, landing on the Fly-Spy's camera now operating autonomously. The rain has already made the dead Smile cool to a slightly more yellow shade of orange. He scans the rest of the park in thermal.
<<Do or die folks. What's going on?>>
(( Scan the park for more signatures, and report them to Yung. ))
But he's also surprised at the surge of disappointment, the sensation of a built-up energy crackling in the air, with nowhere to go. A head of steam trapped in its vessel. His sigh is comes from a depth he didn't know he has, and his hand moves from the column shifter to the ignition. The sputtering engine dies, giving way to the patter of rain, and ticking of cooling metal.
<<Yeah, gimme a sec.>> He brings up the AR feed and swipes through it, landing on the Fly-Spy's camera now operating autonomously. The rain has already made the dead Smile cool to a slightly more yellow shade of orange. He scans the rest of the park in thermal.
<<Do or die folks. What's going on?>>
(( Scan the park for more signatures, and report them to Yung. ))
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
This is, by Mouse’s count, about the third time that her heart has leapt into her chest in the last few hours, and despite the warning labels, it isn’t entirely from the P90. The Vantichrist once again slows to a stop, and she has to force herself to loosen her grip on the solid bench, which had been the victim of a pre-emptive death grip, anticipating yet another bumpy ride that never came. “HERE I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE BY CLOWNS, BUT I DON’T THINK MY HEART CAN TAKE ANY MORE OF THIS EDGING.”
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
The rain abates, transforming into a persistent drizzle. The ceiling of smog and cloud is beginning to glow faintly signaling the onset of morning twilight. The sun is not yet visible but the burgeoning dawn manifests itself in a cerulean light that quells the darkness, if only an iota.
The three Smiles visible near the amphitheater are still milling about. As Axel eyes the feed he spots another signature emerging from the vendor area and moving towards the main stage.
The three Smiles visible near the amphitheater are still milling about. As Axel eyes the feed he spots another signature emerging from the vendor area and moving towards the main stage.
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Drew Buddy
- Posts: 1488
- Joined: Sun Oct 30, 2011 7:06 pm
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Axel relays his findings to the team.
<<Three still outside, and another moving to the stage. If things are going loud, we can take care of the Smiles outside. But the more warning we have, the better we can coordinate action. Sun's coming up.>>
<<Three still outside, and another moving to the stage. If things are going loud, we can take care of the Smiles outside. But the more warning we have, the better we can coordinate action. Sun's coming up.>>
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Hidden in the corner of the least occupied tent, Mick's typing becomes more normal. < We either create a reason for these assholes sitting on the last crate to leave, or the two of us go at them. > The ork looks around the dim, filthy tent, and concludes, < Or is it just that me and corpo have to do fragging EVERYTHING? >
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Drew Buddy
- Posts: 1488
- Joined: Sun Oct 30, 2011 7:06 pm
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
In every young man's life, there's a period of time when he is most susceptible to goading, or to doing illogical and dangerous things in the name of chasing some idea of "glory". Of putting oneself at risk of life and limb out of peer pressure and a desire for recognition.
Fortunately this phase passes for most, but at the same time, is never truly gone. In times of stress, the mind can fall back on old patterns and habits in a desperate attempt to solve the situation at hand. A shuffling of a personal Rolodex of vestigial instincts come out to play as executive functioning takes a back seat.
Axel is having one of those moments.
<<Let's see, three outside... Maybe a fourth...>> Oh god, ohgodohgod, <<We could– I mean I think we could handle the guys outside if you need a little breathing room. Go big and splashy. It's just, well, I mean in a few minutes, the sun's going to ruin our element of surprise.>>
Fortunately this phase passes for most, but at the same time, is never truly gone. In times of stress, the mind can fall back on old patterns and habits in a desperate attempt to solve the situation at hand. A shuffling of a personal Rolodex of vestigial instincts come out to play as executive functioning takes a back seat.
Axel is having one of those moments.
<<Let's see, three outside... Maybe a fourth...>> Oh god, ohgodohgod, <<We could– I mean I think we could handle the guys outside if you need a little breathing room. Go big and splashy. It's just, well, I mean in a few minutes, the sun's going to ruin our element of surprise.>>
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
As soon as Axel mentions handling 3 to 4 heavily armed gangers, Mouse shoots him a look of almost accusative incredulity, and she once again starts sizing up the troll’s ability to intercept bullets. “...CAN WE THOUGH?”
Maybe a little plausible deniability is in order: something that wouldn’t convince the clowns that they’re under siege, but that something is amiss. She gives the wall of the van a quick thump with her first, feeling the metal reverberate beneath. “HEY REIYA, WANT TO START A HOWL?”
Maybe a little plausible deniability is in order: something that wouldn’t convince the clowns that they’re under siege, but that something is amiss. She gives the wall of the van a quick thump with her first, feeling the metal reverberate beneath. “HEY REIYA, WANT TO START A HOWL?”
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
An increasingly annoyed and indignant Reiya waits on the roof, feeling her rush of adrenaline go to waste. Things are getting hot elsewhere, and members of their pack are in the thick of it. The sudden stop gnaws at her, even as she hears the fear and anxiety-riddled exchanges of Axel and Mouse with the others. The rigger is right about one thing, though: the sun is coming up, and there’s no way they’re going to be able to extract themselves and infiltrate this place again the next night. Plus, wolves are nocturnal, and she’ll start feeling that once the sun’s properly up, even if the daystar remains shrouded in clouds.
Impatient to be on the move, Reiya is more than happy to fall in with Mouse’s suggestion. The shaman stands up, plants her paws and howls, giving voice to her current frustration, her past anger, and her insatiable grief in a long, drawn out call. The sound is difficult to brush off as anything other than wolfsong. Still, it’s loud enough to potentially draw the barks of nearby stray dogs as well as Smiles, and surprising enough in this urban hellhole that their targets are as likely to be confused as much as defensive. Satisfied, Reiya returns to her cargo bar perch and, before tucking her right forepaw in, slams it on the roof as a further goad. Let’s go. Punch it, Vanhole.
Impatient to be on the move, Reiya is more than happy to fall in with Mouse’s suggestion. The shaman stands up, plants her paws and howls, giving voice to her current frustration, her past anger, and her insatiable grief in a long, drawn out call. The sound is difficult to brush off as anything other than wolfsong. Still, it’s loud enough to potentially draw the barks of nearby stray dogs as well as Smiles, and surprising enough in this urban hellhole that their targets are as likely to be confused as much as defensive. Satisfied, Reiya returns to her cargo bar perch and, before tucking her right forepaw in, slams it on the roof as a further goad. Let’s go. Punch it, Vanhole.
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Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Axel's heart beats faster as the emotional dam begins to crack.
"Frag it!" He exclaims to no one in particular. He spares another look at his AR feed. He taps the window and brings up the sharing options, and forwards the view to every team member.
<<Hey all, doing what I should have done from the start. Here's the camera feed from our eye in the sky.>>
He then grabs the window, virtually wads it up into a ball, and tosses it to Mouse, his gear understanding the allegory of digital control transfer. "Mouse, can you handle Echo for me? The pilot has it circling in a stable pattern, so shouldn't need much." The adrenaline coursing through his veins mutes what would have been a million reasons to not give control over something so near and dear to a relative stranger. He's too busy to care.
His hand darts to the ignition. "Frag this phone operator bulldrek. Let's go bowling for drekbags." The words are hardly out of his mouth before the familiar juddering of the Vantichrist's clutch propels the improbable vehicle into motion.
<<Sun's coming up. We're inbound. Be ready for noise.>>
(( Heading across the bridge. If we immediately encounter dudes, we'll deal with them there, otherwise, he'll break off to the Bar/Games/Carnival section of the park. ))
"Frag it!" He exclaims to no one in particular. He spares another look at his AR feed. He taps the window and brings up the sharing options, and forwards the view to every team member.
<<Hey all, doing what I should have done from the start. Here's the camera feed from our eye in the sky.>>
He then grabs the window, virtually wads it up into a ball, and tosses it to Mouse, his gear understanding the allegory of digital control transfer. "Mouse, can you handle Echo for me? The pilot has it circling in a stable pattern, so shouldn't need much." The adrenaline coursing through his veins mutes what would have been a million reasons to not give control over something so near and dear to a relative stranger. He's too busy to care.
His hand darts to the ignition. "Frag this phone operator bulldrek. Let's go bowling for drekbags." The words are hardly out of his mouth before the familiar juddering of the Vantichrist's clutch propels the improbable vehicle into motion.
<<Sun's coming up. We're inbound. Be ready for noise.>>
(( Heading across the bridge. If we immediately encounter dudes, we'll deal with them there, otherwise, he'll break off to the Bar/Games/Carnival section of the park. ))
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Taipan grits his teeth at the chatter coming over comms. This pot's about to boil over. After a moment's hesitation, he signals a palm up to Mick before peeling back from the railing and padding quietly toward the staircase to the convention center floor.
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
The Vantichrist's wheels spin for purchase as Axel drops the clutch. The whole vehicle lurches as the tires eventually gain traction and then jolts forward. Reiya is forced to flatten herself to the roof as they hurtle under the archway connecting the ticketing kiosks. The tarp on the side flaps violently as the van approaches the bridge.
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Taipan - Sneaking Skill Check
Re: Run #1 - Big Top Blitz
Peering out from the corner of the tent, Mick observes the irrefutable certainty of Taipan's actions. His gestures indicate a confidence that will be useful. He will either prove a useful ally, or a useful distraction. Either way, the ork is likely to need to be close by him to get the most of him. Mick is used to playing up close with danger; they do, after all, work with their hands.
Mick floats through the darkness, peering around the tent that contains the Smiles to get eyes on the human's position. And to keep in visual contact. Mick has never so innately understood the value of combat communication as when they saw it projected at themselves by this human. Their muscles harden and connective tissues snap taut. It turns out the feast isn't over. As it goes, the feast hasn't even started yet.
Whatever is about to happen, it's about to get about as bloody as it gets on any given Thursday at Bongoland.
Mick floats through the darkness, peering around the tent that contains the Smiles to get eyes on the human's position. And to keep in visual contact. Mick has never so innately understood the value of combat communication as when they saw it projected at themselves by this human. Their muscles harden and connective tissues snap taut. It turns out the feast isn't over. As it goes, the feast hasn't even started yet.
Whatever is about to happen, it's about to get about as bloody as it gets on any given Thursday at Bongoland.