View Full Version : 02-wcectrp (ic)
12-29-2007, 10:53 AM
You all open your eyes as you are shoved one by one into a whitewashed room, the flickering fluorescent light giving you a mild headache. There are two rows of 6 chairs, cheap metal things, pressed with their backs against the wall. The ceiling extends no more than 2 feet above your heads, and there are doors at either end. The one behind you slowly creaks shut, and an armed nondescript (surprise!) MIB stands with his arms crossed in a no-nonsense posture.
"Everyboy take a seat, please," he growls in contrast to the magic word.
You can do nothing but comply.
"Two rules. Don't get up, and dont try anything funny, you scum."
As he says this, you see a haggard 30 year old black man stumble in from the far door, and make his way to the exit. The MIB lets him through, glaring at him.
The mans shifts his gaze to you all as he stands by the door, immobile.
12-29-2007, 05:29 PM
Eva Perez leans back in her chair, her left hand drumming out a fast-paced rhythm on the metal. She seems quite at ease with the situation, and surprisingly unperturbed by the vaguely concealed threats of the guard.
Her tone is jovial and polite, with just enough delay on the honorific to be slightly sarcastic.
12-30-2007, 12:29 AM
God'n'christ... let's just get this over with.... over with.... get this.... over with.... get this over with get this over with.... f***in' over with.... over with...
Kenny Mcfretti could've been meditating on close examination. Why the hell did fellow soldiers bother to let the inevitable drag on? What could be more annoying?
Just do what they tell you girl, it's gotta get over with... we're gonna go no where, and if you decide you're gonna keep this up y'know I'm gonna have to mark you off on the hate list.
OOC: Thoughts are italicized, just so y'know.
12-30-2007, 01:10 AM
Michael Jameson sits in his chair looking rather board. after a minute or so goes by, he turns to the others in the room. "So, what are y'all in here for?"
12-30-2007, 01:32 AM
"Who cares? Just hurry the **** up and get on with it!!!
12-30-2007, 01:42 AM
I happen to care. I like to know about any associates I have.
12-30-2007, 12:04 PM
Eva turns her head sideways to glance at Michael.
"Don't see any compellin' reason to tell you. But then again, it wasn't exactly covered up, so you probably know anyway. I'm called Eva Perez, if that's any help."
Given the media reports of the raging psychopath who gunned down prisoners for no reason, her name alone is usually enough to send others edging back at most. Combined with her actual demeanor, it usually ends up confusing people.
12-30-2007, 01:06 PM
Michael Viks sat down obediently in the chair, and remained silent as the others started their useless conversations. Slumping forward, Viks let his head fall back and hit the wall, watching the MIB through half-lidded eyes, maintaining an attitude of boredom and ignoring everything else that went on around him.
12-30-2007, 02:00 PM
Yes, I do recognize the name. There is no reason to tell, but then again, there is no reason not to. Besides, I don't know about the others, but you and me are almost certainly getting a...extremely heavy sentence, so its not like someone would spread the word about what you did. From the looks of the security, I'd say all of us are getting a heavy sentence actually. I was just wondering if the people i'm gonna spend the next who knows how many years next to in a little cell are mass murders, or car thieves, etc, so i don't insult anyone by guessing the wrong crime. he pauses for a moment. Oh, and my name is Michael Jameson. Very nice to meet you Eva.
12-30-2007, 02:34 PM
Frost sat there kicking the underside of his chair seat with the back of his leg. Is this going somewhere or is our sentence to sit here with our thumb up our asses while 00-Douchebag undresses us with his eyes?
12-30-2007, 04:55 PM
"I can think of worse sentences. At least this way I've got people to talk to."
12-30-2007, 05:09 PM
I must agree. I'd rather sit here than in solitary confinement on Death Row.
12-30-2007, 09:46 PM
The guard, without saying anything but giving a murderous stare, just stands near the door.
In time, you hear a loud, ringing knock on the door at the other end.
Mr. MIB grimaces into an expression you can only assume is a smile.
"Enjoy your life trip to Guantanamo, scum."
He strides quickly to the opposite door and opens it, giving you all a mock bow.
"Your new lives await you." He seems almost gleeful.
"Now stay in line, no pushing or shoving, and GET IN THE DAMN CHAMBER."
As you file by him into the auditorium, you glance about to examine the room.
You have entered from the back, and it is not set up like any court you have seen before for it is somewhat small and not at all like a place for grave sentences. The walls are a light beige, and the furniture is wood paneling and granite. A bench sits in front of you, facing the front where a low podium supports a judge's seat. The bench seats all the way to the left and right of the room, with a section taken out of the middle to let you pass as you are called up. Right next to the judge's stand, which is raised only about a foot, is a strange thing. Instead of a witness stand, there is a small workspace with a multi-screen computer. Behind this sits a brawny black man, his hands casually punching figures into a keyboard. His nametag says "Ean Randall". Behind the judge's podium is a more imposing figure, a dashing 40-year old man with black hair, graying slightly at the temples. He carries no identification. The judge beckons toward you as you file in, and says with no placable accent,
"Please... take a seat. We will begin in a short while."
The door slams shut behind you, and the MIB stands vigilantly at it, the Cerberus of this padded hell.
12-30-2007, 09:49 PM
Oh fun. I've always wanted to visit Guantanamo. Michael says, with a roll of his eyes and his voice dripping with sarcasm. As he is told to sit, he looks around and speaks again. Odd, this doesn't LOOK like a prison, especially not one as renowned for its lack of decor like Guantanamo...Hm, this might be more interesting than I originally though.
12-30-2007, 09:54 PM
Viks snorts softly, rising silently and heading through the door. He pauses next to the MIB, taking a moment to give the man one looking over. Then, shaking his head, he walks past.
12-30-2007, 09:57 PM
Its not that good. Frost said in a disappointed tone The walls are so weak...so boring.
12-30-2007, 09:59 PM
(Ooc: My bad... act of god made me press submit earlier than I wanted to.)
12-31-2007, 12:28 AM
"I don't know about any boring walls...but that man up there sure is pretty."
Eva waves at the handsome judge.
"Hey! Does Guantanamo have a coffee bar? Cause if you're not doing anything after this little charade..."
12-31-2007, 12:36 AM
Damnit! We cant even bypass the red tape HERE? Get it over with already! The short man said tapping his foot rapidly on the floor.
12-31-2007, 12:37 AM
"Come on, there's an MIB and a judge. We're obviously in the middle of something with high involvement by the government. There's more red tape here than in the entire rest of the Union." Michael says with a laugh, leaning back in his chair.
12-31-2007, 12:52 AM
The only color of tape I want to see is black, and it better have some C4 under it.
01-01-2008, 07:16 AM
And at one point, you woulda thought suicide was underrated...
(muttering)Freakin' god, freakin' christ, freakin'(muttering)... *sigh* these court cases have a reputation for draggin' on. Pathetically, they seem to have little clue'n how to more efficiently deal with killers. Even on death row there's always a way of widdlin' out, seems. Well, maybe that's lucky for some of them prime sinners. For others though, remorse is like ciggarrettes. It feels good but it's bad for you. Or maybe it feels good and bad but its toxic fuels you to... wait, that didn't make sense.
Seating himself, Kenny eyed Frost.
Y'know if I were the more casual observer I woulda thought this man was a part-time cracky. Little difference does it make, I aint that ignorant. Anyway, this guy looks like he could use a pinch of morphine and an advil.
Maybe I'm only kidding though. But ahaha... I don't think it matters much to you guys, f***ers probably couldn't care less.
He pauses for a second, thinking. Bringing up another subject altogether:
Y'know, you all seem military. At least the setting about suits it. So, like we're in it together, eh?
He eyes Viks this time, for just a full second before he proclaims
Well, well this guy here has sniper fingers. Which maybe probably, I don't know I'm only assuming, he could be a sniper, hehe... Well, if the ball-of-the-finger-to-the-trigger law fits in whatever country you mighta come from. I had a few snipers under my coat way back when, though I never preferred the trade myself.
He put a hand to his forehead for a full 4.5 seconds. Finally he spoke again.
Sorry, just feels like I woke up seconds ago.
He eyes Frost again, finishing the fragmentary comments with, I know how it feels little duder. You just gotta relax. Control your mind. Control the fear. If that's fear your feeling. If it aint, then I know how that feels too. Trust me.
Apparently that fella actually enjoys handlin' C-4... either that or it was just a boring-ass blatantly cheesey voiced suicide proclamation as usual; hey... maybe this could get interesting.
The sentence fragments could've sounded fairly weird, but it seemed right to Kenny upon saying it. And, who knows, maybe it sounded about right to the others.
When things have finally settled down, Kenny resumes his meditation.
01-01-2008, 11:03 AM
The judge watches this interesting play for a while as he shuffles papers. Upon the exclamation from Eva, he looks up, smiles, and gets back to his papers. About 1 minute after Kenny's comment, the judge looks up before anyone can speak.
"Please be quiet everyone. You all know you have been charged, every one of you, with some god-awful crime. Well, we have given you a verdict, to be sentenced and carried out in this very room. You might have realized how very pissed the council was at you. Every one of them wants you dead, which is perfect."
He smiles to you all looking very kindly.
"You are all going to be formed into an elite counter-terrorism unit, to be used at my whim. Don't worry, the council will get their wish, for these missions are to be deadly at best, and suicidal at worst. But what you will recieve from 2 years of this duty is your freedom, but don't worry, this will not happen. Don't get any hopes up. However, I take great pride in my work, and we can always use a working CTU. In that effect, we will pay you for every mission completed. Funds will be split however you all can agree upon, to be spent on arms, ammunition, gear, and... (looks at Frost) other paraphernalia."
"Also, two other advantages are available to you all. First, you will have an extremely secure but very accesible main base. You will only be allowed out, however, upon the start of a new mission. Second, you will be given basic CTU equipment for your first arsenal."
"To prevent you from getting... other ideas, we have planted expiramental chips in your heads. These serve three functions. They will relay your position to your team and us, it will serve to allow us to survey your speech and what you hear, and finally it has a small amount of C4 implanted in it in case you try to take an 'alternate route.'"
"Now that you have been pre-briefed, please step up the my associate here, Mr. Randall, and he will assign you combat gear. Dismissed."
He looks over you all one last time, his gaze lingering on each of you. You could almost detect some new feeling, one that you have not seen in someone else in a while: Pride, in you all. But it only flickers past his eyes, and he stands up to leave, exiting swiftly into what you can only assume is a door behind the stand.
Randall looks at you.
"Alright gang, let's step up to the plate here. File in one at a time and we will assign you equipment. Get in line."
01-01-2008, 01:16 PM
Michael, who had spent more time than necessary playing console games as a kid, couldn't help him self from asking a quick question. as they stood up to get equipment "Tell me, do we get to call ourselves the Arbiter?" He gets out, before he begins laughing Man, I thought this only happened in movies and stuff.
(major kudos to those who get the reference.)
01-01-2008, 05:44 PM
C4 in chips? Hmm... If one of you dies I'll get a chance to see that for myself.
(Eh, the spectres would be better)
01-01-2008, 07:40 PM
Ah, whad'ya know, a pardon already. Freed of the shackles of civility.
Chuckling, Kenny slaps Frost on the back,
That's the spirit, yah sonofab**ch, although the comment might've contained a slight hint of sarcasm. Such a thing was hardly noticeable, however.
He then eyed Michael piercingly.
If I happen to make the rules on the field, rule 1 could be that no one gets to play soccer mom to this kid.
He eyed Eva almost challengingly, but then turned back at Michael,
Reality aint no videogame, I'll tell yah that. And for those that are already aware, I apologize.
If this kid has grown some hefty enough balls, then he'll meet me head on.
Kenny appears to gaze off in the distance once again.
I owned a mighty fine projector back in the day. And to think I could own a 1080p today with 3.2 surround I think it was? Maybe they got higher now. That'd be something.
Christ... only hell is to come. If you wanna face hell, you gotta be hell.
OOC: Swearing allowed? :P
01-01-2008, 10:33 PM
Kid? I'm willing to bet, no, i'm CERTAIN, i've had more training than anyone here, and I'm older than most. I was simply making a joke, though it appears that you've lost your sense of humor in some sort of horrible accident. I feel your lose man. Now how about shutting the h*** up and getting in line so we can get outta here? I know life's not a game, i've fixed up the people who thought that since i graduated med school. I don't need some wanna-be tough guy telling me that until he's put the guts back in someone.
01-02-2008, 12:00 AM
Eva looks from Michael to Kenny and back again, a disapproving look on her face.
"If I'm going to have to work alongside you all, the first thing you're doing is learning to get along. Otherwise I take no responsibility for my actions."
"I mean, I have nothing against seeing you blown up, but I think one of us would have to clean it up, and it sure as hell isn't going to be me. So keep a civil tongue in your head...BOTH of you...or I swear to God I'll take you BOTH down myself."
As she speaks the last sentence, her eyes light up with a somewhat troubling expression, and her otherwise calm and rather jovial manner is tainted with the edges of insanity. The next time she speaks, it is directly to Kenny.
"Another thing...there's no soccer mom here. Just me. Keep on my good side, and everything's just fine. P*ss me off, or try to order me around, and I'll find time to deal with you. If something you say makes sense, I'll do it...if you'll do the same for me, but you try to force me into something and you're going home in pieces."
With that, the emotion passes, and she returns to her usual self.[/i]
"Got that? Good. Time to get kitted up, I suppose."
Eva smiles widely at her new comrades and steps forward to receive her gear.
01-02-2008, 12:02 AM
Viks sighed as he got up, and shuffled to the end of the line. Waiting for the others to get their assigned gear, staring at his shoes but keeping an ear on what each one got, trying to get a feel for his new squadmates. In between, he mulled over the implications of their assignment. Chips with C4, a bunker base, and working with these people. Viks absentmindedly gave a soft snort while in line, but didn't speak.
01-02-2008, 12:55 AM
A fierce glint seemed to appear in Kenny's eyes as Eva spoke. In the depths lurked a savagery so fierce, so animalistic, so rage filled, barbarous, and indescribable, but...
That's good.... that's good. Right woman.
The big guy said this with what seemed like no negative emotion whatsoever.
In fact, he smiled in nearly genuine happiness. A toothy grin.
Then he stared back at Michael.
You look like a god damn kid. No lie. You won't mind if I call you that?
He then laughed out loud as Michael blinked at this profound statement. Maybe a little too loud.
Nah! I'm just f***ing with yah! But I'll hand it to you, you've got sense. Y'know what, declare a truce. We're friends now. Deal?
He held out his hand. This was always made awkward for the recipient, but it didn't matter when it came to business.
Being in prison was worst than the field for crying out loud... Didn't get too much action despite being among the god damn marines, but that'll all change. I can take this...
01-02-2008, 01:14 AM
Truce sounds good. Friends may come later. In the profession were about to enter, i doubt you want to get to attached to people Michael says, as he shakes Kenny's hand
01-02-2008, 01:28 AM
"Nah...that's just what they want you to think. The trick is to know better. We can all pull through this easy...just stick with me, kid. Just stick with me."
In truth Eva isn't much older than Michael, but she seems to have adopted the nickname.
She turns to Kenny.
"You don't seem as bad as you'd want us to think. Just a big softy, eh? Somehow I doubt it. Who're you, and what dirt do they have on you?"
01-02-2008, 07:01 AM
Kenny stands right up next to Eva.
Breathing very low, he quietely rasps
I broke the back of a female officer.
But uh... nothing that could ever interest people like you most likely.
He chuckles accidentally when then looking back at Michael, after having shook his hand firmly (he didn't choose to intimidate with however tight he could squeeze)
By the way, you gotta be my friend if I can trust you or have you count on me for anything. That's how things went down in the business where I lived.
And before Michael can even voice a word in response,
Screw off! I'm joking man! Loosen a little.
I used to feel the same way as you did once. But then I realised, you have to be attached. How else can you survive for f***s sake? Without fellow warriors in arms?
Intimacy can be an advantage. A mind of one... He mutters faintly to that other root of his own mind. Kenny then quiets down completely, mindlessly taking his weapon as per specification, in meditation.
That other chick's a rare one for sure. Never coulda thought I seen a sane weirdo who's messed for a reason. Could she be... ? Nah. Can't assume.
01-02-2008, 11:55 AM
Randall spins a pen between his fingers as he listens to this dysfunctional team. After many comments, small arguments, and make-ups, he snorts.
"Funny group of guys you are. How about you let me hand out some stuff?"
He looks at Eva.
"Let me guess... the only female on the team... you must be Eva? Maybe? Whatever. Anyway, because this is a Counter-Terrorism group and not a wrecking crew we are not giving you an microgun. However, I think we can find something for you here, in this spiffy modified Heckler and Koch HK21 with attachable suppressor and aimpoint with targeting laser. Your sidearms are an
suppressed MP5k, no stock, and a Desert Eagle chambered for .50 rounds. I would only use the Deagle when the **** hits the fan, because that thing cannot be silenced. We will also have a couple crates of grenades of various types shipped to the hideout. You guys hear that?"
He aims the last question at the back of the group.
"Next! Ok, one of the Michaels eh? Alright Jameson, lets see what we have for you..."
He taps some keys on the computer while leaning back and spinning his pen.
"Sweet... medic gear..." He rolls his eyes. "We have for you a nice UMP45 with aimpoint and silencer. You will also be provided with a FN Five-seveN, suppressed of course, and a full field medic kit. A small side SMG will be provided upon request, of course."
He now shifts his gaze to Jacob, completely nonchalant that he could be pissing off some of the most dangerous people in the world. To him right now, at least.
"So, Jack 'Frost'. Lets see what we have mustered for you... A couple pounds of C4, some cutting wire that doubles as a garrote, sticks of dynamite, and some special phosphorus grenades. For your weaponry we have a specially requested (by your benefactor here) compund crossbow, collapsible, and with a good amount of poisoned crossbow bolts. Comes with aimpoint, but no suppressor. Imagine that. Your sidearm is a Kimber with suppressor and tactical laser. Your side SMG is a full MP5, which features a detachable suppressor, an aimpoint, retractable stock, and 3-round burst. This will be chambered in 10 mm Auto for increased stopping power and silence. You will also be given a Fairbairn-Sykes fighting knife, for those close-quarters kills."
Randall looks at Kenny interestingly.
"And you. You are the Assault? Fun times here... You are to recieve the SG 552 with, of course, a suppressor. Here, though, we give you a ACOG with 4X magnification, and a folding bipod. Your sidearm is a Skorpion VZ. 61, along with a Sig P228- wait, excuse me: p229."
Now, he tries to catch the eyes of Viks.
"Mr. Sniper... The crap we have for you is an XM8 we pinched a while ago, full kit... very handy. We included a really long-ass barrel for you too, so thank us later. Your "**** hits the fan" tool is a very compact FN P90, nice for tight spots. In case you need it, we have also included a Longslide 1911 with pistol scope and targeting laser, modified for lower-velocity ammo for accuracy on sustained fire. You should appreciate all the crap he is giving you guys, this is better than most CTU's."
Finally, he get to Kofi. He scrutinizes this man carefully, taking in his silence for a full minute.
"Mr. Kogoski. Pleasure to have you here. Let us get onto your arsenal. You have a very odd selection, Dual suppressed Steyr TMPs. Interesting... Very, very, interesting. You might ask Dirk why he gave you those. Anyway, your sidearm is a manly .357 magnum revolver. Also, very interesting. Your equipment will also be given, of course. You need just name the parts and tools and we will ship them to you. At the bunker you will be supplied with a basic toolbox and some welding equipment. Good luck..."
Randall reclines back in his chair, taps a few keys, and throws his hands in the air.
"Well, wasn't that fun! If you have any questions, just ask."
His hands settle behind his head as he gazes at you all.
01-02-2008, 01:03 PM
Eva picks up the machine gun apprehensively, testing the weight.
"Seems a bit small...you sure you don't have anything bigger?"
Randall glares at her, and Eva holds up her hands in mock submission.
"Just a harmless question. Can't blame a girl for trying."
Huh...broke the back of a female officer? Interesting. So he's either unhinged, a chauvinist, or has something against officers. Gives me a one in three chance to be perfectly at ease, and a two in three chance to teach him a lesson. Sounds like a fun time.
01-02-2008, 01:47 PM
Michael takes his med. kit and weapons. SMG on request hm? well, i think i'll go ahead and request it, so it doesn't fall outta my brain later when i need it.
01-02-2008, 02:48 PM
A turret shouldn'ts be too hards to rips out of a jeep.Frost muttered while packing det cord and C4 into a few crossbow bolts Hmm...what kind of toxins is this? Its much different than my normals blend.
01-02-2008, 03:50 PM
Viks just grunted at Randall, took his gear, and sat down. Once he was seated, the pistol and SMG were tucked away and he began to poke around the XM8, disassembling it and going over the gun piece by piece. Once done with that, he began assembling the various configurations, starting with the sharpshooter.
With the XM8 in sharpshooter, Viks made sure there was no clip and emptied the chamber, then began to test the gun's weight, scope, and other properties. The other guns lay all but forgotten while Viks investigated his new toy.
"Sorry, but I gotta make sure, our base has a range, right?"
01-02-2008, 04:59 PM
Randall smiles at the words from Viks.
"Of course. Alright guys, you can pack up your stuff and come with me. I'll be your driver and techie. In case you can't read my tag, I'm Ean Randall. And Eva, that thing is longer than my leg, I don't think I could manage to sustain fire on it."
He then types some stuff into the computer for Jameson, and turns to monitor towards him to show a picture of a Skorpion.
"This good? I personally like the things. Very fast, good stopping power. It'll be at the bunker."
Randall brings out several black cases with handles, almost inconspicuous. Almost.
"Let's get going." He smiles a devilish smile.
Randall then reaches behind him and pulls out a crutch, hoists himself to his feet, and heads behind the judge's stand.
He waves emphatically towards the group, opens the door, and walks through.
01-02-2008, 05:48 PM
Michael looks at the gun on the screen. Works for me. I'll try it out on the range when we get there. Seeing Ean start to wonder off, he gathers his new stuff and follows
01-02-2008, 05:48 PM
Eva glances sideways at Ean, then quietly questions him.
"You're with us? That makes me wonder...you in for something as well?"
01-03-2008, 10:08 PM
So, we aren't gonna barge on into no man's land right away? From what the juggy said, it sure as hell sounded like it. But hey, maybe it'll turn out to be another ordinary frontline operation. And maybe I'll get to do some jungle cruising. Too bad that crutches diggo didn't gimme a knife. And the suppressor **** sounds weak. Almost forgot this was 'stealth' operation.
No front line infantry fun? No knife fights? No rounds with the sarge? No snake pits, lions or tigers? Looks like this is starting to suck deep. Taking a dagger from some rebel's wrist is a pain too. No grenades or camo cover either, eh?
And yah, blasting away with a heavy machine gun's brain dead approved work, if you don't take offense. Would love to see how lightly that's taken up in a knife fight.
Kenny eyes Randall.
And it aint likely crutches diggo would last two pigeon **** durations in the field either. But I can't really debate on his previous condition.
He eyes Eva again.
So hey, you got at least one friend to relate to, girl.
He jerks his 550, slams it across his chest once, and then levels it at a target. Ready to shoot when others are least expecting most likely.
OOC: Kenny's challenging Eva to a target competition. Whoever can decimate a target the quickest (assuming targets only dent or hole upon bullet impact), wins. He'd also take Randall in a fist fight too, but that might not be as likely to happen.
01-04-2008, 03:53 AM
Eva looks sideways at Kenny.
"If you say so, man. I'm warning you though...this was my specialty for a reason. You may be an assault trooper, but when stuff like this pops up, I'm out of your league."
She stands at Kenny's side, the HK21 held nonchalantly at her side.
"Go on...I want to see this."
01-04-2008, 12:04 PM
Randall Narrows his eyes as he leads you all into a long, iron-blue metal corridor. He stops and eyes Eva and Kenny.
"Do we really have to have some damn competition between you guys? Jesus Christ, this is a Counter-Terrorist team not a friggin' Rambo movie. Pull yourselves together and get focused. If you really feel like wasting that much ammunition, there's a target range at the base. But I'm warning you, try any of this crap in the field and you'll get your effing head blown off! My job, the one I get PAID for, is to make sure you numbskulls don't shoot yourselves in the ass, and I'm gonna do my job. Am I clear here. Good."
This next part is muttered, his eyes narrowed.
"I'll order some concrete blocks for you little 'party' if that's what you really want."
"And to answer your question Eva, no, the most I have done is shoplift when I was a teen. Didn't get caught."
He grins, even after his tirade, and deftly spins the pen between his fingers.
"Crazy crap we do when we're kids eh?"
Randall moves down the hall, taking long half-strides. Opening the door at the other end, he eyes you all and gestures through the door. Light pours through the door, making eyes water for its brightness. You forgot how dark it was in here.
01-05-2008, 06:20 PM
Good on you for staying with the law. Must take a fair bit of willpower to have your attitude and not get involved. But either way, crutch dig, I assure you, I won't shoot my own ass. That's overused hyperbole anyhow.
He eyes Eva.
And who said we weren't put here to die?
Wonder how he got the crutches then? For being a *****?
Go ahead and order the blocks but if it's ammunition that was originally intended for the battlefield, then I guess we can screw that idea. And how'd you get the crutches anyway, dig?
Blowing apart that wall shouldn't get us in too much more trouble; of course that's taking in the current situation.
His middle finger twitches, maybe a milimeter on the trigger.
Woah, easy little fella. In time.
OOC: Questions, questions... sorry guys, Kenny will stop after this, and then we can move on. :smallbiggrin:
01-05-2008, 07:59 PM
Or we could just hurry up and get some ******* work done. I don't know about you, but having a explosive in my head with a trigger held by some needle-dicked prick in a cheap suit isnt exactly the best ****ing thing for my health.
01-05-2008, 09:13 PM
Once again, Viks lapsed into silence, carrying his XM8 gently, with his other gear stowed away on his person, he followed Randall's lead and did his best to keep tabs on what was going on around him without getting involved. he listened intently, but kept his eyes fixed somewhere around Randall's knees.
01-05-2008, 09:58 PM
(OOC: I was trying to stall for Bingo_Bob, but oh well... hope nobody's gun breaks in the middle of combat ;) )
You emerge from the door into a claustrophobic, high-walled courtyard. An APC sits nearby, engines idling. As the last of you enter the outside, Randall moves towards the back, opens the door, and ushers you all inside. There is a minimalist, transport-only feel of this APC, with benches attached to the walls. Roomy overhead looks as if it could store lots of gear...
"Get comfortable gents, and familiarize yourself with where you are gonna stow your gear. This will be your second home, after your base."
He raps twice on the front bulkhead, and you feel the APC lurch forwards, pick up speed, and rumble out into the street. A long ride and a little chattiness ensues, when finally the carrier comes to a stop after a sharp right turn.
"Welcome home! I hope you like the style, it's a little urban.
He moves to the back, flings open the doors, and points outside.
You see... a Starbuck's coffee shop.
He grins at the lot of you and banters,
"Not quite what you were expecting, eh? Don't worry, your bunk isn't inside there, it's underneath it. Come around back. D.C. has wonderful housing, wouldn't you say?"
He chuckles as he limps his way out of the alley, across the street, and into Starbuck's left-hand alley. He stops before a door on that side, pulls out a key, unlocks the door, and walks inside.
01-05-2008, 10:12 PM
Eva grins at the facade of the building.
"Heh. Incognito and all that. Nice one."
"Wonder if it actually has coffee..."
01-05-2008, 10:23 PM
red tape, dip****s in suits, and government coffee... does this bull**** ever end? Even if they did I wouldn't reccoment it. Its likely that they would pull the same bull**** they did with these chips.
01-05-2008, 10:34 PM
"Eh, quit your whining. You're alive. Ain't that good enough for you? 'Cause if you're going to be complaining this whole time, I'd just as soon put a bullet to your head and get it over with. No hard feelings...just my opinion."
01-06-2008, 03:52 PM
Hm...coffee. I haven't had that for...too long. I may have to make a stop upstairs once we get all our stuff inside.
01-08-2008, 09:45 PM
(OOC: Sorry I haven't kept up... My computer broke AGAIN and I am going to have a hard time creating the Tac-maps because I'm going to use Evil Genius. Smart eh? I'll begin again tomorrrow, I'll have time then, and I'll just draw the maps out.)
01-12-2008, 06:45 PM
The trek downstairs isn't long, and you find yourselves looking at a large, partitioned warehouse-style area. The section you are standing in is a long, thin hall with three doors in the middle. Two doors to the left, one to the right. Randall moves to the middle, faces all of you, and speaks.
"Here is your home. Get used to it, you are going to be here for a few years. Or months, depending on how well you do. Maybe even days. Anyway, there is a map right here on the wall. Oh and the coffee shop up stairs is genuine! You are permitted to walk up there, just don't do try anything or go anywhere stupid."
He points to his right.
"If you'll kindly come over here, I'll point out each room, it's layout, and purpose."
Edging closer to see the map, you move to the center of the hall and examine the map.
Randall points to the blue area.
"This is the sleeping quarters. This is, of course, where you will sleep and bathe."
He walks to the door on the left and opes it.
"Here you are. Go ahead and explore."
Inside, the drab tan-painted concrete walls make this look like a very sparse, wide room. Up against the right wall is a row of 6 beds. Each has a metal dresser at the end, with a metal trunk tucked underneath them. Next to the beds stands a metal end table with a shelf and a lamp. At the right wall is open doors, which open into bathrooms. From what you can see, it has pretty much everything, including shower, toilet, and medicine cabinet/mirror. Some washing and drying machines are in the corner.
"Alright gang, lets move on to the mess hall. Follow me out here, and take a look at the map again. I know it's easy to get lost in all of four rooms. The green area is the mess hall, pretty much nondescript, just has a long metal bench table and a basic kitchen with utensils and fridge. I hope one of you knows how to cook, or you all will be living on canned ravioli. Hell, you might anyway. What do I care? Go ahead and look around it too."
He opens the door and walks in. There isn't much more to it that his description, other than the walls being tiled, and the floor being black and white vinyl squares.
"And now, you can follow me to the General Purpose Area! To the map!"
He walks out and points to the red area this time.
"This place is where the magic happens. The other half of this installation is dedicated to making sure you are not bored, unlearned, out of shape, or lazy. Go on in, I'm too tired to explain it all from here."
Inside of this room, you feel slightly claustrophobic. It is jammed packed with items such as ammo crates lined up to your immediate right, the workbenches to the left, and the total gym in the center. In the back left corner you see a decent T.V. and a couch, along with 2 computer terminals along the back wall, and a library along the whole south wall.
"Okay, so here is what you need to know. The ammo crates will be filled with whatever your guns need, and even the grenades you might want. That includes smokes and flashbangs. Over the crates, there are some cupboards in the walls that have several metal ammo boxes in them, which can be used for general purpose. Or we may use them to store special items you request, which will be left on top of the ammo crates in the morning. Anyway, have fun. Any questions? Any at all, I'll answer to the best of my ability."
He shifts his eyed from one person to another with a perfectly profound look of honesty on his face.
01-13-2008, 12:07 AM
Viks frowns as he surveys the general purpose room.
"Someone told me we had a range here. I don't know about whoever used this space last, but I personally would like to give my guns and my aim a little workout before I try using them again. I need to make sure they're both ready for action. So... where's the range?"
01-13-2008, 01:57 AM
Finally, a damn shower. Maybe now I'll have the chance to wash off that monkey-suited-******* smell.
01-15-2008, 05:18 PM
Randall shifts uneasily, looks at the ceiling for a moment, then snaps his fingers.
"Of course! I forgot about that. Don't see how I did..."
He walks over to the bookcase on the wall, reaches into an empty spot, pulls a lever out of the back, and stands back. He rubs his palms together in preparation, and grabs hold of the sides. He slides it back with minimal effort, but you can see he has had a tough time with the footing.
Randall turns to you all and rolls his eyes.
"Here's the damn shooting range. Didn't want to disturb anyone recreating in here, so they had a friggin' passage made to the other room. Hey, if anyone invades, you have a place to hide. Inside there's 4 stalls, all about 30 yards away from a target. Plenty of room to make modifications, too. And we have a stack of targets in the corner, just take one. Some tape in the drawers under the stalls. Anything else?"
01-20-2008, 10:54 PM
Randall grins, and shrugs nonchalantly.
"I'll take it by your very pregnant silence that there is nothing else to be asked. Fine, get acquainted with the place because we leave here in about 4 hours. As for me, I'm going to go hit on chicks at the bar a few blocks down. Or go do paperwork, whatever you want to think."
With those final words of wisdom, he glides (if that is applicable in crutches) up the staircase, whistling "tiptoe through the tulips."
01-21-2008, 03:03 AM
"Well, they certainly don't hide how much they value our lives. 4 hours to get ready before God knows what?" Viks shrugs, then turns and quickly moves to the ammunition stacks, searching until he finds what he is looking for. A short while later, he has himself kitted with webbing and ammunition, then heads for the range. "Well, I'm going to go get greased up for this shindig."
Once in the range, Viks sets one of the targets at the very back, and begins putting the XM8 through all the motions, then moving on to his other weapons. He takes much longer with the rifle in a sharpshooter setup, actually taking time to aim and create a quarter sized hole in the middle of the printed head with a few clips. When he switches configurations, it is simply to make sure all the parts fit together, and when he fires his other guns, he barely adopts a proper firing pose, and leaves a spread like a dinner plate all over the chest region of his target.
02-06-2008, 03:14 PM
Woo, steroids! Kenny suddenly exclaims. You have no idea where the hell he managed to find those and apparently now he has the look of one of those wallpaper dudes with the crazy eyes.
Before you can stop him, Kenny returns with a dozen needles sticking out every arm in his body. He grabs Frost by the head and throws him against the wall.
Yah I been waiting to dwarf toss for awhile now. You know, I used to do it back in the alps, you know?!?!?!
He practically screams these last few words as he promptly tackles viks, stomping on his head shouting,
Why haven't you said anything until only just now you aaaaaaasssss?!?
He then saunters over to Eva oh-so-stealthily with assaultly skill (somehow without you noticing, despite the other crap he'se already pulled), and grabs her by the wrists.
Yo, lady, y'know, yo, let's dance, yo y'know?!
He promptly uses Eva as a club to utterly pwn Mr. Anonymous Russian Engineer, and then kicks Medic Man Mike in the balls. He then throws Eva on top of Mikey, gesturing to Frost,
Go find the APC driver dude and fight to the death; yo...
pointing a rigid finger at Mike and Eva,
you two, make love!
He then rushes out at inhuman steroid-powered speeds to go find Randall and kick his ass for being a 'tard.
You hear Randall in the background shout two seconds later,
"Oh god, not in front of the chicks! No, don't hit on the chicks and ultimately create a humiliatingly awkward situation for me! No, don't date rape the bouncer's girlfriend! No, no... ok, I admit I came here to do paperwork... I... I like the atmosphere, man! Despite my lack of skill at hitting it with the ladies. Aww, dammit man, now you made me admit it, you ass! Ok, ok, uncle! UNCLE! I said uncle! Aw, jeeze, and now look what you did, you made me break my crutch, haha! Aww, no hard feelings, right? Wait, wait... oh god, please no don't reach there... No, you, you... oh hey, that's not so bad."
No?! How about this?!?
"Eeeeee... Neptune's bearded orphans' oreos!!!"
Kenny returns soon, right before you've managed to conspire anything against him,
Criminy, either you two aren't making love right or none of you have listened to my instructions!
He rips off his t-shirt to reveal many layers of nitro-glycerine packages.
And when you don't follow a TERRORIST'S instructions, you get suicide bombzoredz!!!!111oneleven1!1!!!
After he finishes shouting multiple elevens and ones for some reason or other he thumbs the detonator.
Noes, my c-4!
What kinda name's pirate jesus anyway?
Why do you close your eyes when you make love to me-e-e-e-e?!!?! *SOB*
02-06-2008, 03:50 PM
Getting up from the ground rubbing his head Frost glares at Kenny. THATS IT! THIS SUM'BITCH IS GOING DOWN!!! Frost fires one of the C4 loaded crossbow bolts at the hopped up jackass.
02-06-2008, 04:06 PM
Kenny nimbly dodges the c-4 loaded bolt with the nimbliness of a ballet performer, once again seizing Frost by the cranium and hurling him into another wall.
Dwarf 'toss ahoy! Never gets old, ololol.
Anger and steroids are a perfectly healthy combination, folks! you hear an infomercial buzz on the flatscreen TV in the background.
He then continues with the other actions listed previously.
Now what'll Randall do?! :belkar:
After getting noogied and full-nelsoned (and after the subsequent suicide-bomber explosion) that is.
02-06-2008, 04:45 PM
BTW, maybe I should've added a little more enunciation to that explosion.
BOMBASTIC EXPLOSION OF KRACKA-THOOM-BOOM (caused by bombs)
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