Pale blinds drawn (Ch. 5: Day 4)

ObnoxiousOwl · Posted: Wed Jun 13, 2012 9:39 pm

Wyatt slowly tried to pick himself up, completely unaware of his surroundings. All he knew was that his head- no, his whole BODY hurt like a b***h, he'd found his bat, and now there was some psycho (yet very attractive, he might add) assassin llama trying to frikin' MURDER HIM!

In his haze, he didn't notice Tracer zooming towards him, and also didn't see the metal knee flying up to his face. The next thing he knew, he was seeing stars, and now his head hurt worse than the rest of his- NEVERMIND! he'd just slammed into the wall again, making the pain in his body equal with the pain in his head.

He found himself implanted into the wall like a living fossil, with dust and debris milling about in the air, as well as a feminine sillohuette hovering in front of him. He felt a pain in his ribs. There was no way that they were still intact after that. And for the first time since he'd been captured, he'd felt complete and total fear. If one were to look at his petrified face, one would instantly be reminded of a kitten staring at you with its ears drooped and with large, glistening eyes.

Unfortunately, the "make the cute face to try and make them feel guilty" strategy didn't work, as he felt a hand grip his wrist. The next thing he knew, the cold stone floor rose up to meet him, and his world was suddenly darkness.

Admin edit: This is this player's final post in this RP, as he has been removed for matters of distasteful OOC conduct, poor RP writing quality, and character profile bait-and-switch.

NPC · Posted: Thu Jun 14, 2012 3:26 am

The golden lizard stopped, squinted an incredulous-looking smile, and glanced back at his friends. A brief round of cruel laughter was enjoyed by all.

"We do mean harm," he replied in English, apparently too cool to speak to her in his native tongue. "You're in too deep, little mountain girl."

He raised his folded three-sectional staff and gestured with it, motioning with a glance and nod of his head to a trio of his cohorts. They were the riff-raff of the party, visible both in their dress and armament: a couple of jackal-ish-looking guys, one with a chain, the other with brass knuckles, and an overly-provocatively-dressed leather-and-piercings-covered feline girl with what looked like a billy club with a wrist strap on it. They closed in all at once, at a leisurely stride, looking all too happy to be playing the big, bad bullies.

They fanned out; the guy with the chain went to circle behind, the guy with the knuckles came in from Latika's left, and the girl with the club came in from her right, opening with a broad, gleeful swat.

Rachel · Posted: Thu Jun 14, 2012 6:57 pm

Being pathetic seemed to do nothing in the way of convincing the mercenary to stop. Tracer regarded the still body a moment, then raised her foot over the unconscious form. There was a sickening crunch as her metal boot rendered the skull unrecognizable.

With her opponent dispatched she turned her full attention onto Ace. The armored llama marched slowly back up the hall, rolling her shoulder, leaving messy boot prints along the way.

Greens · Posted: Thu Jun 14, 2012 9:04 pm

It seemed like the whole world passed by in the time it took for Ace to his handcuffs on the right side, when it was only a few seconds spent on his back. Tracer and her friends hadn't even arrived by then, and when they did, time flew even faster. He didn't know what was going on. All that he knew was that he had to take whatever chances he was given. Like Hell he'd give them a stationary target.

The kick-happy thug had the misfortune of being the first to reach him, and he was swiftly dealt with. Even in shackles, the ratty looking punk's movements may as well have been preceded by a messenger with a Telegram announcing what he had planned. Ace shifted deftly to one side, putting the thug in-between him and his buddy, and whipped the lug wrench down on his shin mid-kick. Once he was down on his knee, one meaty swing to the jugular was all it took to bring him down.

Mr. Haymaker got special treatment; rather than trying to back away from his punch, old alleycat stepped right into hugging distance, effectively nullifying the power of the punch and rather, yanking him in further. Ace threw his hands over the poor bastard's head, and used the very chains on his handcuffs to yank him in right into a eye-watering stungun headbutt in the middle of his nose. A quick shuffle later, and he'd suddenly find himself with Ace standing behind him, getting just choked enough to act as a human shield and still stay conscious.

"Tra-ceerrr!" he announced in an inappropriately jovial tone, as only one with everything on the line could deliver. He awkwardly shuffled back towards the hallway, sweating from his forehead, trying pressure control over his meatshield and still keep an eye on where he was going, let alone his surroundings. "...We gotta stop meeting like this."

Seafarinhare · Posted: Thu Jun 14, 2012 10:38 pm

It would probably come as no surprise to Ace that neither Archer nor Tracer really cared about his human shield, but the point of a shield isn't necessarily nullified by the opposition attacking, if it manages to cushion the blow.

That being said, given that the position of Archer was not as far down the tunnel as Tracer and Ace, so it would be hard for the alley cat to shield himself from both of the mercenaries. Archer drew an arrow from his quiver, circling around Ace to cut him off from his escape.

As much as he would have loved to make a quip or two, the situation just didn't bring anything clever to mind, so he just gave a sort of defeated sigh before releasing the arrow into the back of his skull(assuming of course, Ace didn't move or reposition his meatshield). The arrow was equipped with a concussive end piece that would explode on impact into sheer force. Enough impact force to make one feel like they had just been hit by a blunt object. Like a crowbar. Or a more immediately relevant example: A lug wrench.

Nuzlocke Griff · Posted: Fri Jun 15, 2012 3:28 am

Exiting the building victorious, Desmond had stealthily tread over to find the lower grounds of the park... empty. Finding the silence uncomfortable, he carefully walked over to the now blown apart opening into the subway grounds. Taking a leap down, he hit the ground and did a recovery roll, ended on one knee, and while aiming down the sight instinctively, found himself surrounded by a weird group of thugs and planted close by Casey's little luggage carrying friend. "Great," the ferret spoke aloud, "I was wondering if anything could get any worse."

Sheff · Posted: Fri Jun 15, 2012 9:46 am

Careening down from the gaping skylight came a sudden crescendo of a high pitched buzz, a swirling mess of green and quills careening into the battleground. It looked like their hedgehog acquaintance was finally deciding to join in on the assault of the base, having delayed for long enough. Perhaps he'd just didn't want to jump blindly into a smoke-filled chamber that had already clearly been distinguished as a mob leader's HQ. There could have been a pit of snakes waiting for him for all he knew, so he felt somewhat justified when he managed to find himself capable of getting the drop on the new aggressors tightening in around his comrades.

Geoff soon connected with the floor, his whirling body skipping forward once, then twice with a renewed velocity. Unless some of the thugs had an exceptionally poor reaction or awareness, a few would soon be barreled through like a couple of bowling pins, scattering them as the hedgehog shot forward. Now, only a few seconds into his arrival, his spin would stop and his feet planted firmly on the ground, launching into a full body tackle at the next nearest thug available, still carrying the same momentum.

To any observers that held any familiarity with the hedgehog may have been a bit surprised at the lack of his trademark crystal. It appeared he was hesitating to pull that card immediately, instead trying to use the gained speed to his advantage until things became a bit more dire. The numbers weren't stacked kindly, after all.

Mie · Posted: Fri Jun 15, 2012 5:16 pm

The encircled porter puffed a breath of air out her nose in a stiff, yet conceding fashion; the corners of her lips pulled down sharply, simultaneous to her brows, while her eyes (but not her head) darted about, taking inventory of her callers.

"That not very kind," she observed at such a low mumble, even she couldn't hear it.

But the time for criticism pertaining to pleasantries and hospitality were long past— She had company.

The billy club meant for her head was stopped abruptly in a blunt, two-handed catch, as Latika took a single step to the attacking feline's side, her body facing away while delivering a harsh elbow to her attacker's face, and promptly following it up with the butt of her own bat. The cat hit the floor with a groan.

Without pause, Brass Knuckles lunged forward to avenge his felled comrade; Latika was ready for him. A sharp turn brought her around to face her new opponent, bringing with her the face of the billy club in a wide, upward-arcing swing that nailed him cleanly in the jaw, and might well have taken his head clean off his shoulders, were it not for his spine. He thudded painfully onto his back, some fifteen or twenty feet away, skidding to a heavy stop.

The loris didn't even have time to think about pursuing, however, before her third adversary reminded her of his presence. A heavy gauge chain suddenly flashed out from behind her, constricting relentlessly around her neck. The club clattered to the ground as her hands flew to the chain, and she hacked a cough against it. She hunched forward, her teeth gritted, as she yanked the chain with her, then fired first the left, and then her right elbow into the jackal's abdomen. She twisted out of his metal noose, while he sputtered a breathless gasp, his eyes watering. Though in a wide, stationary stance, Latika still moved with a dance-like grace, as her arms swooped, and her upper body circled round, looping the chain cleanly around the canine's neck behind her, and, lurching forward, hurled the thug clean off his feet and over her shoulder with enough force to send him flying into his friend, Billie Club, heels-over-head, and back-first.

The little mountain girl's two-handed grip on her appropriated chain shifted to one, as she turned her gaze back toward the man with the three-section staff. Her brow furrowed, but she said nothing.

NPC · Posted: Fri Jun 15, 2012 8:35 pm

The drop from the skylight placed Desmond right in the middle of the room—right in the middle of the crowd of attackers.

While most of the agile, adept, martially-trained henchmen in fact shuffled and dodged out of Geoff's way, the hedgehog had managed to bowl one brass-knuckle wielder completely over. There were enough to go around, however, so as Desmond break-rolled to absorb the energy of his fall and dynamically crouched in a sighted position, he actually very nearly put his barrel right into someone's back. It looked like a pretty sharp maneuver, really, but it the combatant on the receiving end was someone who was very quick to react—an orangutan-guy with a bo.

He twisted almost as soon as Desmond landed. With a propeller-like whirl of his staff, he struck at the ferret's gun to attempt to deflect its aim off to the sideand possibly the gun itself, if you're willing to play along with this intended-to-be-gunless combat sequence, though you are not obligated, before flowing in less than a blink into a diagonal, whirling strike at the small trapezius space between his neck and shoulder.

Geoff meanwhile had tackled a crude and fairly strong canine. With surprising grace, the thug raised a foot as he fell onto his back and kicked to try to launch Geoff over and off with the continuing momentum of his own tackle, before rolling smoothly back to his own feet and putting up his brass-clad fists. Needless to say, his arms were cocked and ready, and as soon as the hedgehog drew near again, he'd start hurling piston punches.

Before the battle raged on, though, there was a momentary "gap" in the action on the other side of the crowd as soon as Latika stopped and defensively stood, having dispatched with her three attackers in all of a few seconds' time. The red lizard in the neat, long navy coat was grinning; he looked back to some of his unoccupied cohorts and shared in some sort of strange amusement for a moment. Did he get a kick out of that? It sure seemed it. He raised his bundled three-sectional staff, pointed to one of his allies, then pointed to Latika.

He was actually singling someone out to fight her. He seemed to have taken a special fascination in her after that display. And... he chose the biggest guy in the group. It was a rhino. He wasn't enormous as far as big guys went, just a little shorter than Casey, and maybe a little narrower, but unlike Casey, he didn't have an ounce of visible fat to be spoken of. He looked like a lump of gristle wearing a wifebeater and basketball shorts and wielding a wrecking ball.

It was an ornate wrecking ball, bronze-finished and decoratively inscribed, on a long, tough rope. One part of the rope was clutched in his left hand, the other in his right, while the ball dangled loosely, swaying just ever so slightly as he lumbered forward.

He started it into one forward revolution. He turned backward in a slow step; the rope coiled once around his own elbow once; he finished his turn, stretched his arm forward, and with immense speed, unleashed the meteor hammer straight at Latika's gut. He'd keep turning on the recoil, immediately whipping it back to himself and around his own body, before swinging it widely at her to try to ensnare her in its rope like a bola.

Nuzlocke Griff · Posted: Sat Jun 16, 2012 8:18 am

The disarming of the ferret was successful as the quick reaction made by the orangutan caught Desmond of guard, which was then followed by a sweep to his trapezius area. The next blow landed full force, causing Desmond to cry out in pain, but reflexively catch the staff by locking the weapon with the side of his face.

Quickly grabbing the staff, he would attempt a tug-of-war session with the thug. Pulling as hard as he could without getting lifted off his feet, he noticed the meteor hammer going at the porter girl, and uncomfortably close to himself. Attempting to get out of the way, he let the orangutan pull him forward and with the momentum lunged at the thug while prepared to take a hit if need be.

Greens · Posted: Mon Jun 25, 2012 9:30 pm

Meanwhile...

Ace had his best eye on Archer the moment his peripheral vision caught whiff of him drawing an arrow, and sure enough the buck made good on his unspoken promise. With a blistering twist, Ace made good use of his meatshield and force-fed the poor pup in his grasp a mouthful of concussive arrow. But rather than stop there and make a stationary target, he used the moment of the blow itself, and spun as efficiently as he could with bound ankles, and ducking down low before hurling his weight into a discus pitch (hopefully) before Archer could pluck out another arrow from his quiver... all the while, clutching either side of his prisoner's temple between a violent grip in his palms.

By the time the goon's body was hurled in Archer's direction (and at an alarming speed), there seemed to be no more life in him than in the pile of fur and gore hanging from Tracer's boot. It was startling enough just how much force seemed to be behind the pitch, but the way the body's head seemed to seethe with some kind of wisps of chaos energy made it all the more unsettling. Until this moment, Ace had never charged a living person for fear of what awful things it could do to them. But then again, his aura never churned out such an ugly shade of crimson before, either.

In the off chance that actually bought him some time, he'd launch the wrench in Tracer's direction with a similar effect, before pursuing it himself in a hasty shuffle. It went without saying he couldn't run away from the guy with the bow and arrow like this. But he could at least give him a reason to pause before he put him in for a world of hurt.

Sheff · Posted: Mon Jun 25, 2012 10:24 pm

Though the canine's attempt to toss Geoff away was successful, the hedgehog simply landed with another, albeit shorter, roll. With his body twisting around, his feet brought him traction while a hand on the ground gave him the pivot required to get back on his feet, and, more importantly, setting his direction back to the dog. There was a sort of no-holds-barred look in Geoff's eyes as he charged forward, seemingly prepared to barrel right through his opponent if need be.

When the canine's inevitable first punch came flying forward, it connected with the hedgehog's forearm with an audible crunch, bits of crystal blasting outward as Geoff started to generate his rock on the fly. The hastily placed limb combined with the dog's strength brought the 'hog's momentum down a notch, but his feet were still driving, intending to throw the thug off guard with the speedy approach. This flowed into a low punch, and right before it disappeared somewhere into the vicinity containing the canine's gut, a glint of crystal encased the fist now being launched.

Hopefully for Geoff, the dog wouldn't be able to react in time.

Mie · Posted: Tue Jun 26, 2012 1:04 am

In a battle of speed between a twenty-pound medicine ball revolving on a fifteen-foot leash and something called a slow loris, it didn't take much insight to figure out who'd come out on top.

"HUAH!"

Latika's cry resonated clearly and forcefully around the cavernous chamber before the hammer had even made contact; she knew the score, and wasn't about to embarrass herself trying to outrun the hammer. It was all she could do to wring every last wisp from her lungs, tense her core, and brace for impact.

The heavy, bronzed sphere hit its mark solidly, buckling her forward at the waist with a grunt, as her eyes watered, and her chain clinked uselessly to the floor. With barely a blink's time to recollect her bearings, the finely woven eight-strand rope shot around her torso, clamping tight across her biceps, hurtling toward the business end of its line, where, if unimpeded, would shatter her episternum.

It wasn't given that opportunity. As the ridiculous caricature of a meteor hammer wound its way around Latika, her left arm bent at the elbow, catching the tether in her hand, as she seamlessly wound the scant remaining slack around her wrist. In the very same motion, she flowed into a harsh, but graceful turn, all but yanking the rhino off his feet, though certainly costing him his balance as he was jerked uncoordinately forward, and stumbled heavily towards her. That was all she needed.

The heel of her right palm and her left knee pistoned out to meet his cheek and the underside of his jaw, respectively, while her slow, but meticulous dance continued in a series of spins that, while difficult to follow, evidently served to untangle herself from the rope. As her foe reeled from the pinpoint hits to his head, Latika had twisted and twirled into a complicated-looking mess of a tangle. Rope criss-crossed around her upper body, while the deadly pendulum spun perpetually faster, intermittently coiling around and selectively slipping off the ball of her foot, by the most indiscernible of ankle twitches, until at last, her leg swung forward, loosing the hammer with tremendous force squarely through the rhinoceros' horn, and right between his eyes.

As the ball flew back to her, she wove its rope around herself once more, continually spinning it, persistently at the ready, but waiting to move.

NPC · Posted: Tue Jun 26, 2012 2:18 am

Desmond's tug-of-war session wasn't entirely fruitful; a martial artist with a staff obviously wasn't just going to stand there and pull like a child fighting over a toy on the playground when someone grabbed his bo. Instead, he just used it as an opening to fire a side-kick at the struggling ferret's gut, free his stick with a brisk overhead twirl, and bring it back around for a flurry of whirling, baton-spin staff strikes. He was by no means the most skilled of the fighters on the field, but like even the dullest among them, he would take a touch more finesse (or brute force) to stop.

See for example Geoff, who opted for the "brute" option. He was successful in landing his hit, for sure, but there was something different about the way these guys handled themselves. The pain showed in the jackal's face, and his body lurched with the blow and staggered back, but he just kept coming without delay, firing swarms of brass-knuckled punches. He would likely continue do so, maybe even in futility if Geoff's armor got thick enough, until he was incapacitated to such a point where he just couldn't anymore. Granted, with Geoff wrapping on the rocky fists, that point would probably only be one more good hit away.

The group's numbers were already dwindling. The rhino with the broken horn hit the ground, unmoving save for his heaving chest, heavily concussed and knocked out like a light. Three of his other comrades lay scattered around him, writhing and groaning, clutching their heads.

The apparent leader, the red lizard in the long, dark coat, grinned far too broadly for such an ugly situation. Without any urging necessary from him, the remaining five members of his underling entourage immediately lunged forward as soon as the big rhino was defeated, displaying mixed concern and anger. It was a mishmash of batons and blades coming Latika's way, with the group fanning out to try to come in from as many angles as possible.

The party was almost over, though. There wasn't really... anyone left, save for their leader himself, and the two punks already tied up in combat with Geoff and Desmond (and at least one of those two was already faring pretty poorly).

Seafarinhare · Posted: Tue Jun 26, 2012 6:37 am

Archer was not one to stand idly by while someone threw a body at him. This maneuver did indeed buy the alleycat time to hurl the wrench at the llama. When the body came hurdling toward him, Archer moved to dodge. Typically, brushing past something like that would be sufficient. And given the nature of the attack, it was probably just as surprising to Ace as it was to Archer what happened next.

As the body collided with Archer's shoulder, he was met with far more force than seemed scientifically possible and Archer was actually sent into a periodic tailspin. What normally would have been a simple shove to deflect the body's trajectory turned into a full 360 degree spin. Archer managed to regain control in the midst of the spin, drawing an arrow as he dropped to a knee. He held the bow horizontally as he armed it, pulled back and let it fly at the back of Ace's legs in a very quick motion.

So quick, in fact, that he had not fully realized what arrow he had pulled, until it was too late.

"Oh, hell."

Whether the arrow hit the intended target or not, it would "pop" on impact. The cylindrical arrowhead released copious amounts of an oily substance. Very slippery and would make it hard for just about anyone that dared step in it to keep traction.

Pale blinds drawn (Ch. 5: Day 4)

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