Two blows glanced off him. Nothing. Barely worth noting; shake offs.
His attack on the dinosaur had failed. A slip up-- should've known better than strangle the horse's backside. Even death's horse couldn't bear certain burdens.
Dumb, dumb mistake. Don't let it happen it again.
He felt he was moving-- a pull, from behind. It was that hairy motherfucker, reeling him in. No. He wasn't going to roll over for an obese doormat.
"I'm in a spot.... hit me, Marlowe," Triggerman grunted. "I need Thunder, IronShield, Vulcan, and MarkCannons."
"Looks like you have this all figured out..." Marlowe quipped, slotting the tools of the trade in.
Azrael's hooves struggled against the doormat's pull, but if the tug of war went on for too long, the advantage would start to be for the rug. He was holding, but he didn't want to play no more.
I don't have time for this shit.
Hammer fell, sights lined up. Had to act decisively; enemies on both sides. Move quick or be at disadvantage. The barrel cried electric; an orb of thunder erupted, ever predatory, seeking, hunting. Five.
Not done. Doormat hung on like a stubborn son of a bitch, kept on whistling that same tune.
From the corner of his eye he kept that dinosaur, the asshole with the cheapshit shield, in sight. As a matter of fact, he had one of those too. A steel plate formed on his left arm, worse for the wear, rusted and imperfect. It wouldn't hold long, but it wouldn't need to-- just enough to glance the blows... and end pair who refused to fall into the ground.
The unfriendly gale persisted.... doormat persisted on huffing that Sharo air. Enough with tug of war. He whipped the reigns; Azrael neighed, ferocious, and kicked up snow. It was a deathly beauty, caught in the midst of a windy struggle that enraged it. Triggerman thumbed the hammer down.
For God's sake...
The barrel repeated anger five times.
Shut that damn trap of yours...
Enough attention for the overgrown loofah. Four. The shield dinosaur hadn't grown out of his habit of living. Too bad... it was just them two now.
Azrael knew the score; the white mount glided across the terrain, leaving no hoof marks. Had to get around that metal bastard's front door. Luckily he brought his own to the ball. He held the ironshield in front of himself, eying the target for the sentence he was prepared to issue.
With a charge, the pale warsteed leapt once more to the skies...
...at a moment, they hovered in the air, over the ugly's rear. No protection from here.
Kiss your sorry ass goodbye.
Sight picture.
Hammer fall-- trigger noise. Three.
Hammer fall-- trigger noise. Two.
That was the problem with the shields... they only worked when your opponent like to play fair. Triggerman didn't.
======================================
-) Marksmanship
1) Thunder Snowblow (80, homing, stun)
2) IronShield1 (2 hit shield)
3) Vulcan2 Snowblow (10x5, Spread1)
-) Passive Movement: sprint and jump to rear of IronShield
4) Snipe: MarkCannon1 IronShield (lock on, seeking)
5) MarkCannon1 IronShield (lock on)
=========================[2/6]==========
The Coldest Night
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[Either a previous iteration of Thunder1 did 80 damage, or you assume SnowBlow is Aqua, or assume that Snow doubles Elec. All of these are not true, and your Thunder only does 40.]
A crackle of lightning, heralding thunder. The shaggy bastard earned its cut, and subsequently ate solid lead, but still lived, and sucked away. Spitting wind, the sloppy shot landed one, and only one hit. (5)
The bomb whore with the shield still kept on going, and didn't hit squat as he blew the damn thing to bits. After that, its comrade took to abandonment, and basically fled like it should.
SnowBlow: 10 HP [Fled]
PengiA: DELETED
Nightmare: DELETED
PengiB: DELETED
IronShield: DELETED
Terrain: 95% Snow, 5% Missing
Triggerman.EXE: 73 HP
-BATTLE FOUR, VICTORY!!-
Rewards: [SummonBlack1] Battlechip, 500z
A crackle of lightning, heralding thunder. The shaggy bastard earned its cut, and subsequently ate solid lead, but still lived, and sucked away. Spitting wind, the sloppy shot landed one, and only one hit. (5)
The bomb whore with the shield still kept on going, and didn't hit squat as he blew the damn thing to bits. After that, its comrade took to abandonment, and basically fled like it should.
SnowBlow: 10 HP [Fled]
PengiA: DELETED
Nightmare: DELETED
PengiB: DELETED
IronShield: DELETED
Terrain: 95% Snow, 5% Missing
Triggerman.EXE: 73 HP
-BATTLE FOUR, VICTORY!!-
Rewards: [SummonBlack1] Battlechip, 500z
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"May 28th, 20XX
This net fears me... I can feel it in every one and zero of my being. With every step I take, she claws at my presence, hideous, cruel, rejecting me. You should not be here, she says. She tries her best to shut me out, throwing vermin at me, knowing they are to be lain to waste.
It's all a ruse. I have stared into the soul of this god forsaken place, and what I saw was empty. There is nothing there.
The snow streams down thick as ever, hiding the rot that festers in this No Man's Land. They cannot hide from me; neither this snow or this net can shield them. They know I draw near, and still they insist.
The night has begun to grow stale, and yet I know there's more to do. So many more bullets to share.
From the frozen wasteland, something draws near... I know it."
(Use minienergy x2 to heal 100, request battle 5)
This net fears me... I can feel it in every one and zero of my being. With every step I take, she claws at my presence, hideous, cruel, rejecting me. You should not be here, she says. She tries her best to shut me out, throwing vermin at me, knowing they are to be lain to waste.
It's all a ruse. I have stared into the soul of this god forsaken place, and what I saw was empty. There is nothing there.
The snow streams down thick as ever, hiding the rot that festers in this No Man's Land. They cannot hide from me; neither this snow or this net can shield them. They know I draw near, and still they insist.
The night has begun to grow stale, and yet I know there's more to do. So many more bullets to share.
From the frozen wasteland, something draws near... I know it."
(Use minienergy x2 to heal 100, request battle 5)
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[Modlocked]
Triggerman continues to tread across the frozen wilderness of the Sharo network. Auroras hang in the starry sky overhead as he walks onward, the chilly winds blowing at him as he trudges through foot after foot of thick snow.
After a long while of walking, he comes upon what looks like a large Igloo, with a door more than big enough for him to fit into with ease, and a window on either side. A small chimney sticking out the top lazily wafts a column of smoke into the sky.
--Objects--
Door: 200 HP (Unlocked)
Window (Left): 100 HP (closed)
Window (Right): 100 HP (closed)
--Terrain--
80% Snow
20% Igloo
Triggerman: 140
Triggerman continues to tread across the frozen wilderness of the Sharo network. Auroras hang in the starry sky overhead as he walks onward, the chilly winds blowing at him as he trudges through foot after foot of thick snow.
After a long while of walking, he comes upon what looks like a large Igloo, with a door more than big enough for him to fit into with ease, and a window on either side. A small chimney sticking out the top lazily wafts a column of smoke into the sky.
--Objects--
Door: 200 HP (Unlocked)
Window (Left): 100 HP (closed)
Window (Right): 100 HP (closed)
--Terrain--
80% Snow
20% Igloo
Triggerman: 140
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And there it was. An anomaly in the wasteland-- another stranger amidst the endless plains of white. This net still bred mysteries.
What did the dame have in store...
"Not sure about this one... don't think I like it," Marlowe commented.
"Thanks for the input, chief. I was dying over here wondering what you thought," Triggerman shot back smarmily.
"Check it out then... but keep your shit together."
The old man was right about that much. Something hung low in his gut, telling him of things to come. Maybe the net had grown tired of him and wanted retribution. Maybe it had finally grown a pair.
And yet still, he approached. No time for games.
Patience. Stay alert. No sense rushing into it, Tex.
With a heavy hand, he slowly pushed the door open. The show was about to begin... whatever it was.
Six.
[Activate Noir.GMO]
1) Slowly approach door
2) Gently push door open
3) Enter
4) Prepped dodge
5) Prepped dodge
What did the dame have in store...
"Not sure about this one... don't think I like it," Marlowe commented.
"Thanks for the input, chief. I was dying over here wondering what you thought," Triggerman shot back smarmily.
"Check it out then... but keep your shit together."
The old man was right about that much. Something hung low in his gut, telling him of things to come. Maybe the net had grown tired of him and wanted retribution. Maybe it had finally grown a pair.
And yet still, he approached. No time for games.
Patience. Stay alert. No sense rushing into it, Tex.
With a heavy hand, he slowly pushed the door open. The show was about to begin... whatever it was.
Six.
[Activate Noir.GMO]
1) Slowly approach door
2) Gently push door open
3) Enter
4) Prepped dodge
5) Prepped dodge
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Triggerman enters the Igloo, and is instantly greeted by the smell of tea boiling in a kettle on top of an old stove. The warmth of the igloo's welcoming interior-- a stove, bed, stuffed ColdBear rug and armchair--quickly outshining the freezing wind outside. As Triggerman walks inside, he notices a Big, silk top Hat hanging on a combination coat/hat rack to the left of the door. He doesn't see any coats hanging on it, however, so presumably whoever lives here is not home.
--Terrain--
Old Stove: 50
Kettle: 100
ColdBear rug: 200
Armchair: 120
Big Hat on rack: 100
Door: 200 (Unlocked) (Hanging Open and letting all the cold air in)
Window (Left): 100 (closed)
Window (Right): 100 (closed)
Triggerman: 140
--Terrain--
Old Stove: 50
Kettle: 100
ColdBear rug: 200
Armchair: 120
Big Hat on rack: 100
Door: 200 (Unlocked) (Hanging Open and letting all the cold air in)
Window (Left): 100 (closed)
Window (Right): 100 (closed)
Triggerman: 140
last edited by
What is this shithole...
He shut the door behind him gently, sealing the ice tomb from the frozen gale. Somebody wasn't home. He surveyed the furnishings briefly.
Quaint. Too innocent. Something didn't set right...
Memories of crime scenes passed through his head like jagged pieces of broken glass. If there'd been anything he'd learned from his time with those assholes, the NetPolice, it was how to investigate a scene half a damn.
He began to scan and scrutinize...
Why the feeling in his gut?
1) Shut door
2) CSI: Inspect hat
3) CSI: Inspect stove and kettle
4) CSI: Inspect cold bear rug
5) Remain on guard
He shut the door behind him gently, sealing the ice tomb from the frozen gale. Somebody wasn't home. He surveyed the furnishings briefly.
Quaint. Too innocent. Something didn't set right...
Memories of crime scenes passed through his head like jagged pieces of broken glass. If there'd been anything he'd learned from his time with those assholes, the NetPolice, it was how to investigate a scene half a damn.
He began to scan and scrutinize...
Why the feeling in his gut?
1) Shut door
2) CSI: Inspect hat
3) CSI: Inspect stove and kettle
4) CSI: Inspect cold bear rug
5) Remain on guard
last edited by
Triggerman shuts the door behind him, then gets to inspecting the various furniture and appliances. As far as he can tell, it all seems normal enough... he can't quite shake the feeling that there's something familiar about all this, however.
--Terrain--
Old Stove: 50
Kettle: 100
ColdBear rug: 200
Armchair: 120
Big Hat on rack: 100
Door: 200 (Unlocked)
Window (Left): 100 (closed)
Window (Right): 100 (closed)
Triggerman: 140
--Terrain--
Old Stove: 50
Kettle: 100
ColdBear rug: 200
Armchair: 120
Big Hat on rack: 100
Door: 200 (Unlocked)
Window (Left): 100 (closed)
Window (Right): 100 (closed)
Triggerman: 140
last edited by
And then it hit him, with all the velocity of a freight train... derailed now, screeching off the tracks. Out of control. Somehow, the pieces fell together.
There had been a reason it was all so familiar... the feeling in his gut. He should've seen it immediately.
Old Stove. Kettle. ColdBear. BigHat. Vermin, everywhere, crawling all over this damn chamber. Bad place to be in the middle of it.
But what of it. An ambush? They'd had a chance to strike already if that's what they wanted.
Be cool.
"Marlowe... send me Shotgun, FireHit," Triggerman whispered in a low growl.
"Done."
He edged back to the door, slow and easy-like, keeping his head on a swivel.
This had a bad taste all over it. The vermin of this net weren't smart, weren't creative. They just were-- they were the stench of the net's rot. Bottom feeding. How could this bunch be any different.... a thinking bunch?
Wasn't worth much to think too hard on it no more.
He pushed open the door behind him, letting the winter bite back into the rotting ice chamber. Enough with the acting.
Without warning, his hand fled to his holster, discharging a spread of lead on the quiet Kettle and his companion. As quickly as the gun had come to action, it was spun back to his side. Five. More to follow later.
Flames wrapped themselves around his fists, protesting the winter bite. The old one two-- a right straight and a left hook. Blazing fists, ethereal, all rage and fury, leaped from his hands, bringing their fury against the boiling Kettle.
Don't think I'll be staying for tea.
=======================================
-) Marksmanship
1) Back up and push open door
2) Shotgun OldStove, spread to Kettle (50, Spread1)
3) FireHit1 Kettle (60 fire, double attack)
4) Double Attack FireHit1 Kettle (60 fire)
5) Prepped Dodge
================[5/6]===================
There had been a reason it was all so familiar... the feeling in his gut. He should've seen it immediately.
Old Stove. Kettle. ColdBear. BigHat. Vermin, everywhere, crawling all over this damn chamber. Bad place to be in the middle of it.
But what of it. An ambush? They'd had a chance to strike already if that's what they wanted.
Be cool.
"Marlowe... send me Shotgun, FireHit," Triggerman whispered in a low growl.
"Done."
He edged back to the door, slow and easy-like, keeping his head on a swivel.
This had a bad taste all over it. The vermin of this net weren't smart, weren't creative. They just were-- they were the stench of the net's rot. Bottom feeding. How could this bunch be any different.... a thinking bunch?
Wasn't worth much to think too hard on it no more.
He pushed open the door behind him, letting the winter bite back into the rotting ice chamber. Enough with the acting.
Without warning, his hand fled to his holster, discharging a spread of lead on the quiet Kettle and his companion. As quickly as the gun had come to action, it was spun back to his side. Five. More to follow later.
Flames wrapped themselves around his fists, protesting the winter bite. The old one two-- a right straight and a left hook. Blazing fists, ethereal, all rage and fury, leaped from his hands, bringing their fury against the boiling Kettle.
Don't think I'll be staying for tea.
=======================================
-) Marksmanship
1) Back up and push open door
2) Shotgun OldStove, spread to Kettle (50, Spread1)
3) FireHit1 Kettle (60 fire, double attack)
4) Double Attack FireHit1 Kettle (60 fire)
5) Prepped Dodge
================[5/6]===================
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((Apologies for the wait. I've been strangely groggy this week...
How about some mood music to make up for it?))
Triggerman backs up, hand reaching for the door. He gives it a push-- but to no avail! He quickly gives the knob a jerk, but that doesn't do much either. It's locked.
Given that Triggerman is a particularly hard bastard to intimidate, he immediately begins the battle the way he knows best. Not with words, no, only lesser men need to explain themselves. Real men can say everything they need to with one pull of the trigger.
Triggerman fires off a blast of buckshot at the Old stove and Kettle; the stove breaks under the barrage of projectiles, but the Kettle-- the Kettle is punctured by several of the bullets, causing it to spray out boiling water in Triggerman's direction. He attempts to dodge-- but isn't quick enough, being hit back with a suspiciously similar amount of force... (50)
If at first you don't succeed... shoot, shoot again! Or punch, as it were; Triggerman follows up his mainly unsuccessful attack against the Kettle with two flaming punches; the first causes the Kettle to begin to boil, the (mysteriously sealed) holes on the side being ignored in favor of the top literally blowing off the thing. The second Firehit, however, sends the Kettle over the edge. The thing explodes, scattering boiling water everywhere.
Triggerman instinctively prepares to dodge the gout... only to find that nothing hits him? While the Coldbear rug doesn't fare as well (100), it seems the hat wasn't quite so stupid as to sit still for that, given that it is nowhere to be found... As the rug rises to its' full posture, roaring what Triggerman assumes to be obscenities at him, it fires a giant cube of ice at Triggerman from its' gaping maw. Triggerman vaults over the giant cube as it slides towards him, smoothly dodging it. The cube itself smacks into the far wall and then sits there, motionless.
The ball would be in his court, it seems...
--Enemies--
Old Stove: DELETED
Kettle: DELETED
ColdBear: 100
Bighat: 100 (Location: ???)
--Terrain--
Ice Cube: 50 (Behind Triggerman, to right of door.)
Armchair: 120 (Apparently it really was just an armchair...)
Door: 200 (Locked)
Window (Left): 100 (closed)
Window (Right): 100 (closed)
Triggerman: 90
How about some mood music to make up for it?))
Triggerman backs up, hand reaching for the door. He gives it a push-- but to no avail! He quickly gives the knob a jerk, but that doesn't do much either. It's locked.
Given that Triggerman is a particularly hard bastard to intimidate, he immediately begins the battle the way he knows best. Not with words, no, only lesser men need to explain themselves. Real men can say everything they need to with one pull of the trigger.
Triggerman fires off a blast of buckshot at the Old stove and Kettle; the stove breaks under the barrage of projectiles, but the Kettle-- the Kettle is punctured by several of the bullets, causing it to spray out boiling water in Triggerman's direction. He attempts to dodge-- but isn't quick enough, being hit back with a suspiciously similar amount of force... (50)
If at first you don't succeed... shoot, shoot again! Or punch, as it were; Triggerman follows up his mainly unsuccessful attack against the Kettle with two flaming punches; the first causes the Kettle to begin to boil, the (mysteriously sealed) holes on the side being ignored in favor of the top literally blowing off the thing. The second Firehit, however, sends the Kettle over the edge. The thing explodes, scattering boiling water everywhere.
Triggerman instinctively prepares to dodge the gout... only to find that nothing hits him? While the Coldbear rug doesn't fare as well (100), it seems the hat wasn't quite so stupid as to sit still for that, given that it is nowhere to be found... As the rug rises to its' full posture, roaring what Triggerman assumes to be obscenities at him, it fires a giant cube of ice at Triggerman from its' gaping maw. Triggerman vaults over the giant cube as it slides towards him, smoothly dodging it. The cube itself smacks into the far wall and then sits there, motionless.
The ball would be in his court, it seems...
--Enemies--
Old Stove: DELETED
Kettle: DELETED
ColdBear: 100
Bighat: 100 (Location: ???)
--Terrain--
Ice Cube: 50 (Behind Triggerman, to right of door.)
Armchair: 120 (Apparently it really was just an armchair...)
Door: 200 (Locked)
Window (Left): 100 (closed)
Window (Right): 100 (closed)
Triggerman: 90