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Post by Merlin 2592 on Oct 7, 2004 9:45:41 GMT -5
Merlin: I hate it when I try and do that.
Merlin knocked out Reveant and patched him up then slipped a note that said meet me behind Pond Punk we'll have a shootout or fist fight, your choice.
Merlin
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Post by Raven on Oct 7, 2004 22:16:36 GMT -5
OOC: Hard to do that when you have a knife embedded in your mouth.
IC: Raven respawned and suddenly felt rather cramped. He was inside one of the storm drains, his knees pushing into his stomach and causing a rather large amount of discomfort. Raven attempted to recall what had just happened. I must have let my guard down, Raven said. I may not be the best, but I'm absolutely sure that I can beat Merlin in a hand-to-hand combat. He's got nothing on me when it comes to that... Raven sighed out loud. He checked the R-Tracker on his glasses, but found them useless when he saw the multitude of dots appear on the radar. Civilians, he thought. Raven looked up and saw a metal grating above him. He pulled his arms out from under him and pushed against the grate. Fortunately, it was unlocked, and the grate easily moved aside.
Raven pulled himself out of the storm drain and looked around. He was just outside of the Pond Punk Club again. Raven reached for his Falcons, and found nothing but air. His heart stopped. When Merlin took my belt off, he took my guns. Dammit, he thought. His first objective was to go back to the Club and retreive his items. He looked around precariously, and entered the bar. When Raven made it back to the spot he had been during his fight, his guns were gone. Someone has my guns, Raven thought. The only question is...who. Raven left the club disheartened. He reached for his Laptop Gun. Fortunately, it was still slung around his back. He pressed the button to unfold it and began his quest to find his guns. No one had better approach me, Raven said, or there's going to be hell to pay.
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The Fix
Junior
Nobody's real but the villain.
Posts: 70
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Post by The Fix on Oct 9, 2004 12:50:09 GMT -5
... Bring up the operation details.
The light from Scripts' computer moniter made the room glow ominously. The man's face remained concealed by darkness, however, and it was like a scene out of a film noir movie. A slight grin appeared on his face as the computer finished it's scan.
[glow=red,2,300]Mission ~ UNAVAILABLE Location ~ Chicago Possible Threats ~ Numerous ...[/glow]
I suppose Agency wants me to take a little time off for a few rounds with the PDBA, then? Diana always did know best.
He stood from his comfortable seat, almost regretting moving. It had been a long couple of weeks, and he sure could use a nap. But that would have to wait.
He cracked his back and began to walk into his dress room. It was time for a style change.
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Post by Draxas on Oct 15, 2004 19:42:54 GMT -5
Draxas rose unsteadily from the corner, and tried a few experimental steps. He was almost surprised when he didn't topple over. His leg hurt like hell still, but he had somehow managed to staunch the bleeding. He felt lightheaded, and a little ill, probably from the blood loss.
As he checked his gear and readied his DMCs, Draxas also mused about his fate. His eyes quickly and inevitably wandered to the wide red blur of dried blood leading out to the door of the warehouse. It was an obvious and telltale trail, and he was rather surprised that nobody had picked it up. Seems like my competition is slipping, he thought, When I first started here, a wounded man was very quickly turned into a dead one. Nowadays it seems like they couldn't find me with guideposts and a roadmap... Sad.
As ready for combat as he would be in his current state, Draxas gritted his teeth as he set out into the deluge of rain once more...
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Jeral
Regular
or just having a red curse day....either way.
Posts: 378
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Post by Jeral on Oct 18, 2004 10:26:30 GMT -5
Jeral shakes the rain out of his hair and looks around him, looking for friend and foe alike. Jeral notices a slight trail of blood, almost washed out from the rain. Weird thinks he Someone else is injured as well. Jeral follows it to near a abondon wharehouse. If I guess correctly, someone would be waiting in there to ambush anyone who came in the door. So I'll go through the roof! Jeral starts to climb as a man walks out of the buliding, limping from a shot ankle. Got you! he thinks as he pulls the trigger to his Assult Rifle, aiming right at the man.
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Post by Notesurfer on Oct 18, 2004 10:39:40 GMT -5
. . . But he was immediately shoved back into his alcove by a hand to his chest. Barely able to maintain his balance, he struck out blindly at his attacker. His human hand was grabbed and twisted, putting Draxas in an awkward position. Quickly raising his other hand, he fired a quick spray in a semicircle, sending the small black figure into hiding among the various brown boxes of the warehouse. Wary now, Draxas awkwardly stalked the assailant's trail. The fist that had grabbed his wrist had been small yet strong, and very pale. Undoubtedly Notesurfer had FINALLY decided to join the arena, and at a very inconvenient time for Draxas . . .
Glancing back and forth, Draxas opened a box. The body armour held within was a lucky find. As he put the armor on, he saw a section of almost roof-high boxes tumble to the floor, and muffled cries of annoyance as Notesurfer blew his cover. Quickly grabbing his DMCs, he began firing at the boxes that had fallen. The chain reaction of explosions as volatile contents combusted most certainly injured the symbiotic boy, and Draxas crept closer to finish him off. Suddenly the boxes and their remants seemed to explode outwards, as Notesurfer stood up violently, throwing wood and metal reinforcements everywhere. Grabbing a nearby box, he used it as a projectile as he threw it at Draxas, who quickly ceased firing. Unfortunately, while he prevented it from exploding, it still landed on him, pinning him down. Like a voracious eagle, Notesurfer landed on top of the box, adding even more weight to it. Bulking up his mass, he became heavier and heavier, pressing the sharp metal object even deeper into Draxas' chest. He tried to lift his DMCs, but Notesurfer quickly shot his wrist with his crossbow, effectively pinning the appendage to the floor. Draxas attempted to shoot with his other arm, but the box was pressed so deeply into his shoulder that the electric signal was cut off. Peaceful death by suffocation was not far behind . . .
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Post by Notesurfer on Oct 19, 2004 8:24:26 GMT -5
Leaping up onto the roof, Notesurfer shouted through the rain to Jeral.
"Sorry about that, I thought you were attacking someone else." With that somewhat odd comment, he disappeared into the drenching rain.
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Jeral
Regular
or just having a red curse day....either way.
Posts: 378
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Post by Jeral on Oct 19, 2004 8:49:46 GMT -5
I'll get him for that thinks Jeral as Notesurfer runs off. Jeral looks in the crates around him, notcing that Note had pulled something out of them. Nothing, darn
With this, Jeral walks away into the rain, serching for someone else.
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Post by N3B on Oct 19, 2004 14:16:25 GMT -5
Jeral darted down the alleys, splashing pooled rain water across the leggings of his thick cargo pants. he looked about, his assault rifle in hand, keeping his eye out for any combatants in the dark, cramped alleys.
Overhead, on a hanging fire-escape ladder, N3B crouched, his ZZT held in hand, and a loaded magnum in the other. A nice mix... he thought to himself, loving the silence of the semi-automatic he held, with the power of the magnum in the other. he wound his target with the ZZT, and then deliver the final hit with the magnum, leaving a sound to echo through the city for all the warriors to hear; then he'd escape into the dark and wait.
Jeral walked beneath him, coming to the end of the alley in a dead end. dumpsters and barrels lined the walls around him, filled to the rim with trash and useless junk. He spun slowly in place to check his exits, studying his surroundings to have the advantage in combat.
N3B had already beat him to that part.
A ring of bullet-fire spilled into the area around Jeral, a few bullet landing themselves in his shoulder, most of them directly aimed away, apparently to send fear into the target.
Swinging down from the fire escape catwalk one-handed, N3B dropped to the wet ground, bringing the ZZT to level, and bringing the magnum he had stowed in the holster to get down, out. Jeral was still holding his arm in the spot where the bullet had landed when he saw his attacker drop into sight. The heavy-plated assailant wore a helmet; blue, and a strange thick-padded combat suit.
Jeral swung himself over a dumpster suddenly, conveniently placed right next to him, with several other obstructions blocking any bullet-fire behind him.
too convenient.
he breathed heavily, trying to formulate a plan against the combatant with the upperhand. He fought the pain of the bullets laid deep in his bone, and brought the assault rifle to his chest, hoping to just spray a line of fire over the top of the barrel and duck back down, taking a peek to check the situation.
then he saw it; the dim, red blinking LED light right at his feet. in a quick scramble, he leapt to his feet, trying to jump over the dumpster, right as the mine detonated.
N3B wore a satisfied smile on his masked face as he placed the remote detonator back in the satchel at his waist.
Jeral was sent hurling across the open end of the alley, straight into a brick wall, landing hard on the floor, the breath completely taken out of his lungs. he gasped for air as the masked attacker loomed over him, and sharp knife in his hand.
In one agonizingly slow and painful sweep, the dagger was across his throat, Jeral drowing in the blood which now filled his throat and lungs.
N3B strode off into the deep alleys, stowing the knife back on his leg.
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Post by kidgame2001 on Oct 20, 2004 9:17:08 GMT -5
Kid Game had entered the arena. It took him a while to get there. He shut the door on his Modified hover car and walked over to the trunk. He opened it and took out his equipment. He put on a suit of body armor and then took his weapons. He had a set of Falcon 2's which were loaded. He slid them into their holsters then grabbed the next weapon he had which was a K7 Avenger. He loaded a clip of ammo into it and set some clips in his pocket and backpack. Next he took out a datadyne favorite- the CMP150. It was a classic little submachine gun and was one of kid's favorite. He loaded it with ammo and put it in a holster as well. He also grabbed a box of 6 hand grenades and put them in his backback. He looked in the backpack to see what he had and found everything necessary for basic combat- his grenades, several clips of ammo for his Falcon 2's, clips for the CMP150, and a bunch of clips for the K7 Avenger. Kid was about to leave when he remembered his Raincoat. It was pouring rain and kid didn't want to be soaked. He grabbed his brownish raincoat and put it on. Then he closed the trunk and locked the car door. He equipped the K7 Avenger and began walking off towards the G5 Building- supposed location of the battle. He was prepared for anything he would face. It was kill or be killed and kid was hopeful that he would do well and kill whoever- or whatever was in the arena.
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Post by Raven on Oct 20, 2004 14:42:10 GMT -5
Raven walked out of the Pond Punk Bar, wiped the blood from his face, and buckled his belt up. Damn drunkards, he thought. Raven stood under the awning; he could hear faint gunshots in the distance, but none were close enough that he would become a target. Where is everyone? he thought. The R-Tracker was useless, so what was there to do? I need close combat, he thought, there's simply no other way to do this. Suddenly, he had an idea. He accessed the tele-communicator on his glasses, and sent the following message out to the other members:
[glow=red,2,300]ATTENTION ALL PDBA MEMBERS: One of your fellow combatants has requested a change of arenas to the: FACILITY. All those who wish to respond either way, please send a message confirming or denying the change. Another message will be sent out with the results. Thank you.[/glow]
Raven shut the communicator off and took out one of his Falcons, attaching a Scope to it and patiently waiting beneath the awning. Let's see what everyone has to say.
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Post by Conqueror Worm on Oct 20, 2004 15:47:18 GMT -5
Consciousness had begun to seem a distant dream. Vision blurred and hid body burning, Revenant pushed himself to his feet. Mere will-power and determination fueled the battered man. Blood trickled out of his wounds, rather more profusely than he would have preferred. His eyes scanned the area, but his vision fell upon no immediate threats. Having learned never to trust but one sense, his hand still stayed upon the handle of one of his Falcon 2's. Its laser sight pierced the growing darkness, provided that what he was aiming at was near the center of his newly acquired tunnel-vision.
Weary and almost unable to stand, the battered ex-Marine was forced to use the walls near him to keep him upright. He had begun to grow used to the pain, however, beginning to counter its effects with rage. Rage that numbed all pain and quelled all other emotions. Rage that had driven him since the unjust murder of his family.
Ever so slowly, his body had begun to straighten out. The weariness that had once supremely reigned over his being was fading, being fought back by the simmering anger that Revenant had bottled up inside himself. His grip on his weapon grew tighter, and his vision cleared slightly. He did continue to walk with a limp, but its effects on his agility and mobility paled in comparison to his former disposition.
It was but moments after he regained his strength that his gaze met that of his former teammate, who had promptly sighted him. A grin flashed on the face of the Revenant, and he merely stood there.
"'Lo again, mate."
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Jeral
Regular
or just having a red curse day....either way.
Posts: 378
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Post by Jeral on Oct 21, 2004 10:22:00 GMT -5
ooc: we can respawn, right?
ic: Jeral wakes up, slowly, out of a strange dream. That was weird, I was in Chiago fightin' some masked dude and... is all he can remember of it. He notices the pounding rain on the roof of the Jeep, and his surrondings. Odd. thinks he, This is where I... Jeral stops thinking about it and starts looking through the car for his stuff.
Let's see, Assult Rifle, extra ammo, datapad, remote mine, and....Angel's Falcon-2? Better take it.
Jeral's datapad lights up with a message from Raven:
[glow=red,2,300]ATTENTION ALL PDBA MEMBERS: One of your fellow combatants has requested a change of arenas to the: FACILITY. All those who wish to respond either way, please send a message confirming or denying the change. Another message will be sent out with the results. Thank you.[/glow]
Guess we can get out of the rain thinks Jeral as he sends a replies to him(?) with a yes vote.
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Post by Merlin 2592 on Oct 23, 2004 8:33:24 GMT -5
OOC:So I for got to say I respawned big deal, I'll fix it.
IC: Merlin got the message,the Facility was a small area,close range weapons worked best and most explosives would kill him, he took out his Slayer for a shotgun,and exchanged all his N-bombs and Grenade for a extra set of Combat Boosts,then he laughed and finally took a K7 Avenger,he walked outside to find Kid.
Merlin:Hey Kid,remember me, well I have a proposition to make, I'd like you to substitute a member of my alliance.
OOC:In english kid,want to join my team,SyxPac and Lament haven't been here for God knows how long.
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Post by Draxas on Oct 23, 2004 19:32:47 GMT -5
Draxas respawned in a back alley, to the obnoxious message alert of his communicator. While he was pleased that his wounds were gone, and he was underneath a small overhang out of the rain, he disgustedly checked the message requesting a change of arena.
Guh, we've been here for 5 minutes and they want to switch arenas already? Some people have short attention spans.
Draxas sent out a negative reply, drew his DMCs, and returned to the rain and the hunt...
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