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Post by Incendiary Aftermath on Nov 15, 2011 0:33:18 GMT -5
Yea, happy fucking birthday. *It's odd, walking through the tower without being shot at.* Orwell, I need to meet with everyone you have available in your unit. This is going to require some... reluctant team-ups.
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Post by rileywilson on Nov 15, 2011 0:33:53 GMT -5
*Red starts to back away from Basilisk and I move behind her, pushing her closer. She shakes her head*
And what, Basilisk, does having a father have to do with any of this?
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Post by thevipers on Nov 15, 2011 0:38:36 GMT -5
We often choose our fathers as a model for god. *He snickers* My father is dead, so what does that say about god? What does that say about you? *He slams his head into the bars some more and blood trickles down into his mouth. He spits it out at Red and Wilson* You wanna play God? You wanna let technology guide mankind? Be my fucking savior then! SAVE ME! FUCKING DO IT!
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Post by Jonathon Orwell on Nov 15, 2011 0:39:23 GMT -5
*I usher everyone into the elevator and I push the button to the highest floor. We are crammed together and the music plays overhead.* You have very few members. I do not see the need for such.. team ups. My unit is designed to work best together. At best I could spare only a few.
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Post by Incendiary Aftermath on Nov 15, 2011 0:42:15 GMT -5
We may not have many, but we know how the Vipers work. You don't. You know how to fight... Us. And trust me, these people are NOT us. *I roll up my sleeve and show the cracked, peeling skin left over from my torture session with Basilisk* This is how they say hello.
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Post by Jonathon Orwell on Nov 15, 2011 0:46:33 GMT -5
Ah. Wonderful. *I lead them out of the elevator and into my office. I usher to a couch and a few chairs laying about the room. I walk over to my kitchenette and grab a cup of coffee before walking over to the large windows that take up an entire wall. I stand there a moment, contemplating, before I sit down at my desk.* So tell me Aftermath... how do they work?
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Post by Incendiary Aftermath on Nov 15, 2011 0:51:13 GMT -5
You ever see the History channel, before the war, that is? *I sit down and set my rifle aside* You got anymore coffee? I could REALLY use a cup... anyways... *i recollect my thoughts* They focus on old school warfare. Bullets, explosives, swords, knives. Anything that doesn't have a laser in it... they have it. Sure, they'll sell it, and steal it, but they'd never use those hi tech things. They hate 'em.
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Post by Jonathon Orwell on Nov 15, 2011 0:56:01 GMT -5
*I motion to the coffee pot.* Help yourself. As for no laser weapons or advanced technology they are already putting themselves at a disadvantage. We have powerful weapons backing us up. *I pause and remember who I am talking to. I laugh.* The only reason we have not used it on you is because they are much too expensive and your kind is not worth it. Also do not forget we manufacture medicine. We have concentrated doses of weaponized medication in gas form that we can release on a given crowd. My only question is how many of the Vipers are there?
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Post by Incendiary Aftermath on Nov 15, 2011 0:59:10 GMT -5
*I walk over to the coffee pot excitedly and pour myself a cup, then eagerly take a sip* Ah, oooooooh Hell yes. *I set the cup down* A thousand. They've been around since before the war. Before BLI, before the killjoys. And don't think for a second they are at a disadvantage. You ever seen the results of a flechete round fired from a cannon? Let me tell you... no laser gun or ray pistol can match the carnage. They're insane, above all else... They just don't quit. Ever.
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Post by Max Griffiths on Nov 15, 2011 1:08:55 GMT -5
*I'd followed Orwell and the rest of the team to the city wall, but saw no need to involve myself. The situation was taken care of almost as soon as it began. I didn't bother trying to remember the name of the man I'd been introduced to earlier; the information was of no immediate use to me.*
*When the team returned upstairs after depositing the Viper's leader in the cell, I stayed behind. No one noticed, even when Wilson and the girl from the training room came down the hallway, and I moved to sit on the bench just inside a nearby cell, mostly hidden by the shadows. The man is quite insane - I find him interesting.*
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Post by Jonathon Orwell on Nov 15, 2011 1:19:50 GMT -5
*I nod my head but I am not impressed. With a little effort they will fall as easily as others before them.* One thousand you say? I have 21 draculoids in my unit. There are several larger units all of which have been notified. They are all ready for this. I estimate our total numbers to be around 350 so that should be plenty. Oh and Aftermath... we will make them quit. I assure you of that.
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Post by Incendiary Aftermath on Nov 15, 2011 2:10:20 GMT -5
I just hope you're right. *I finish off the cup of coffee and place the mug down* These people can't be allowed to survive. They just can't. *I go back to my seat with a fresh cup of coffee and take place next to my rifle* They'll attack fast and swift with no regard for collateral damage. Chances are, they'll take out half the city before even charging. We need to find them and take care of them. At least weaken them. It's the most we can do right now.
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Post by redhavoc on Nov 15, 2011 2:34:31 GMT -5
*Blood spatters on my face, Basilisk's blood. His face is a contorted mess of bruises and scars, his teeth yellow spikes tipped in pink. But the worst part is his bloodshot eyes, so much blood...even the once black iris is turning Red. I twist away and Wilson lets me go. I fall to the stone ground and quickly back away, panicking. I'd rather face a hundred Aeriths or a thousand Killjoys that whatever is behind those bars*
*I hear Wilson mutter* So this is what we become... *And quickly turns, heading for the elevator, radioing Orwell for an update. He calls for me to follow and for once I'm glad. I look back as I run after Wilson and only see Basilisk's glowing red eyes...*
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Post by Max Griffiths on Nov 15, 2011 2:43:22 GMT -5
*When Wilson and the girl leave, the man in the cell goes back to muttering to himself, occasionally eyeing the guards and bursting into brief episodes of maniacal laughter. It gets boring after a few minutes, so I get to my feet and leave, ignoring the exclamations of the guards. Taking the elevator up, I step out onto the floor where I think myself most likely to find the rest of the team*
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Post by thevipers on Nov 15, 2011 2:59:50 GMT -5
*Once other person leaves, it's only three Dracs and Basilisk in the room. Basilisk moves to the bars and motions to the Drac standing guard by the cell door* Hey, uh... lemme ask you something. You got a Mother? Daughter? Sister?
Ha, I don't need to talk to you. Freak. *The guard turns his attention to the hall, and away from Basilisk*
How would you feel if i told you that my men are gonna defile any woman you hold dear? Would that... piss you off? *Basilisk smiles*
Your men aren't getting in. *The drac turns around and Basilisk gets a view of his name tag. Chris Evans* So i have nothing to worry about.
I guess not... you got a daughter, Chris? I'm sure you do.. how old is she? Can't be more than twelve... *Basilisk starts to wiggle in the cuffs, his wrist bleeds and the cuffs start to loosen* How would you feel if i ruined her? Like... absolutely ruined her? How many pills would you need to pop in order to get rid of that, huh?
*More annoyed, than angry, the drac gets close to the bars and spits at Basilisk* Just shut up. You'll be dead enough soon.
No... You will. *Basilisk reaches through the bars with his bloody, slightly broken hands and grabs the Drac by his neck. He pulls him in close and bigs his teeth into the Dracs neck. After pulling away a large chunk of flesh he reaches for his waist and takes the keycard. Before the other two dracs have time to react, Basilisk is out of the cell and pounces on the second one. A raygun blast hits just near Basilisk's head. He raises his face from the second drac and his throat hangs from between his teeth* Oh deary, you mustn't disturb someone while they're eating... it's just rude. *Basilisk leaps for the third drac and drives the cuffs through his jaw.* Now stay put, will you? *He drags the draculoid to the cell and chains him to the bar* Good boy. Hahahhaha! *He wipes the blood from his mouth and exits the room calmly*
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Yes, I'm still running - sort of. But it is lonely out here. Haven't seen anyone else for a while.
//