Kuman rushes foreward, ready to smash anything in his path. In the beast's haste, he failed to notice the immobile Gungir, and with a sickening crunch, one paw steps downward, Gungir didn't see it coming, and didn't have a chance. However, this turned out to be a good thing for the others, as the sharp metal armor jammed into Kuman's paw cause him to lose his concentration, and the vine foliage disperses.
Edgar fires the wideshot and cannon, hitting Kuman.
Gunner hunkers down and fires on Kuman's legs. All of the shots hit, and Kuman looks unsteady.
Kuman, starting to fear for it's well-being, opens it's mouth, and with a mighty roar, sends out a violent breath of splinters, leaves, and roots, all at an extremely high velocity, hitting all of the Navis still present.
Triggerman follows Gunner's lead by going for the legs. Using his own sandstorm for cover, He fires shot after shot into the beast's forelegs, ending with a locked on MarkCannon shot, which almost certainly breaks the bone.
Unfortuently, Kuman's rear legs appear to be intact enough that the beast simple rears up into a standing position, which raises his head out over the top of the storm slightly, helping ease the pain of the buffeting sand.
Kuman: 1035
Gungir.EXE: EJO (-500 Zenny)
Gunner.EXE: 15
Count_Edgar.EXE: 5
TriggerMan.EXE: 21
Special: Kuman Minor Netdrain has ended! Full Speed restored.
Special: Kuman is Blinded! His single target attacks have a higher chance of missing.
Special: The Magnificent Seven: 1/3
Yumland Research (EVENT!)
last edited by
Edgar's assault of blood and cannon fire struck the Great bear Kuman. But the grand bear's assault was the most damaging Edgar saw today. Gungir, one of the allies Edgar was to protect, the ally that did nothing but stand there this battle, was destroyed in one shot before Edgar could even attack. Kuman's feat of.... Wooden breath.... Nearly destroyed the team of navis.
Edgar was saddened by Gungir's apparent death, for it meant that Edgar failed in his duty. Edgar was to keep his group alive, and they just lost a member. Edgar begins to speak softly. If you had exceptional hearing, or were right up next to him at the time, you could pick out the words "May the divine Lord in Heaven give me strength" from his lips. Edgar may have failed to protect Gungir, but Gunner and Triggerman were still alive, and Edgar will keep it from becoming a complete failure by keeping those two alive at all costs.
Edgar did not pay attention to what his netop was doing, but he felt new power flowing trough him. His hands begin to glow bright, and he looks down into the sandstorm raging below. Edgar flies right into it, to look for the shapes of his allies. Inside the grand storm, he could make out the shape of Gunner and Triggerman. He extends his palms out towards the two shapes, and the light grew brighter. In a great flash the light vanishes, gunner and triggerman wounds begin to heal, even thought Edgar could not see this fact he smiled. Edgar then looks ahead, and sees the shape of Kuman.
Edgar shoots straight up; just a little ways above the storm, where he saw Kuman's head, wounded and nearly blind. Edgar needed to keep his allies alive, which means that Kuman's attention needed to be on Edgar. Edgar forms daggers in his hand, and begins to jet around Kuman's head, keeping from getting hit, and to keep the bear's focus on him.
((Summery
1 cannon heal triggerman 20
2 shotgun heal gunner 25
3 dodge
Edgar was saddened by Gungir's apparent death, for it meant that Edgar failed in his duty. Edgar was to keep his group alive, and they just lost a member. Edgar begins to speak softly. If you had exceptional hearing, or were right up next to him at the time, you could pick out the words "May the divine Lord in Heaven give me strength" from his lips. Edgar may have failed to protect Gungir, but Gunner and Triggerman were still alive, and Edgar will keep it from becoming a complete failure by keeping those two alive at all costs.
Edgar did not pay attention to what his netop was doing, but he felt new power flowing trough him. His hands begin to glow bright, and he looks down into the sandstorm raging below. Edgar flies right into it, to look for the shapes of his allies. Inside the grand storm, he could make out the shape of Gunner and Triggerman. He extends his palms out towards the two shapes, and the light grew brighter. In a great flash the light vanishes, gunner and triggerman wounds begin to heal, even thought Edgar could not see this fact he smiled. Edgar then looks ahead, and sees the shape of Kuman.
Edgar shoots straight up; just a little ways above the storm, where he saw Kuman's head, wounded and nearly blind. Edgar needed to keep his allies alive, which means that Kuman's attention needed to be on Edgar. Edgar forms daggers in his hand, and begins to jet around Kuman's head, keeping from getting hit, and to keep the bear's focus on him.
((Summery
1 cannon heal triggerman 20
2 shotgun heal gunner 25
3 dodge
last edited by
"Hrr... Dammit, Gungnir..." A low grown rolled from his throat. His gun was cocked and ready, his arm battered but steady. Gungnir had paid the price for his lack of readiness in full... Gunner could only hope that he had jacked out safely. The shifting emerald barrier around them made him uneasy and anxious for his former comrade.
The sudden tingle of magic broke his silent mourning. He could only stare incredulously as the altruistic navi, far more battered than any others still standing, floated well within the bear's striking range to distract it. "Edgar!" He called. He trained his aim on Kuman's back legs as he spoke. "I appreciate the healing and all, but you look like you'r about to fall apart." One click of the trigger. A cacophonic retort. The sensation of falling backwards as the enormous kickback reared its head. He only hoped that the bear's knees would recieve much worse than he had in terms of bone-shattering force. "You're the most valuable member of this team. We can't have you ignoring your wounds while you get torn to pieces... Promise that next chance you get, you're paying a little more attention to your own wounds, okay?" Another twitch of the finger. Another shattering complaint from the bullet. Another burst of energy stirring up the dust behind Gunner's boots. "I don't want you to die, too..." The last part was muttered and nigh-inaudible over the sounds of battle. Another click. No kickback. Just destructive force, far more flashy than the Shotguns as the bullet made for the bear's knees in a dazzling streak of light, but also far less effective. If he wasn't already out of chips, he would be soon.
---------------
Sorry for the incredibly short post. My inspiration flatlined.
0.5. Snipe (Increase Shotgun's accuracy)
1. Shotgun (50, [A]) Kuman's back legs
2. Shotgun (50, [A]) Kuman's back legs
3. Cannon (40. [A]) Kuman's back legs
4. Dodge
The sudden tingle of magic broke his silent mourning. He could only stare incredulously as the altruistic navi, far more battered than any others still standing, floated well within the bear's striking range to distract it. "Edgar!" He called. He trained his aim on Kuman's back legs as he spoke. "I appreciate the healing and all, but you look like you'r about to fall apart." One click of the trigger. A cacophonic retort. The sensation of falling backwards as the enormous kickback reared its head. He only hoped that the bear's knees would recieve much worse than he had in terms of bone-shattering force. "You're the most valuable member of this team. We can't have you ignoring your wounds while you get torn to pieces... Promise that next chance you get, you're paying a little more attention to your own wounds, okay?" Another twitch of the finger. Another shattering complaint from the bullet. Another burst of energy stirring up the dust behind Gunner's boots. "I don't want you to die, too..." The last part was muttered and nigh-inaudible over the sounds of battle. Another click. No kickback. Just destructive force, far more flashy than the Shotguns as the bullet made for the bear's knees in a dazzling streak of light, but also far less effective. If he wasn't already out of chips, he would be soon.
---------------
Sorry for the incredibly short post. My inspiration flatlined.
0.5. Snipe (Increase Shotgun's accuracy)
1. Shotgun (50, [A]) Kuman's back legs
2. Shotgun (50, [A]) Kuman's back legs
3. Cannon (40. [A]) Kuman's back legs
4. Dodge
last edited by
...one.
For that briefest of interludes after the powder smell, it seemed The Kid's gambit had paid off. The first legs had went but it was only a minor hindrance, like the occasional mob squealer who found himself dangling beyond comfort.
The Seven's din announced their intentions yet to the Slinger. They were exerting their will upon Kuman's composure, but the Lady had re-appeared; the Dame was intent on not losing her bet, and now she was keeping the reigns tight on Smokey so he didn't fall. Smokey was trying his damnest not to let the Sinners have the last word.
But she'd forgot just how easy her reigns could be cut.
The Kid was keeping at it; his scissors weren't as dull as Triggerman had thought.
He lowered his hat in the same nonchalant habit that had pervaded his every fight; there'd be a faller out of the big bastard yet.
"...I hope you've got an appetite, old man. Dinner ain't vegetarian tonight," he quipped to his silent operator.
"I've tasted lead in the gut before, Manco. I don't think I need to taste it in my food," Marlowe remarked smarmily.
Triggerman squinted through the Seven's rebellion; Edgar had tried to play the high route, act like bait and take the dice stings.
"...boy, you better start covering your own ass. Smokey's not looking too patient anymore," he barked at him. He didn't need the chump falling, but if he wanted to play fallguy, it'd make Kuman's cutting that much easier.
...You keep looking at Bloody Eddy, Smokey. Keep looking so you don't see them strings falling off.
He smashed the hammer and let loose his shot on Kuman's standing leg, hellnoise overriding the gun's callous report.
Well I'll be damned.
The Count was 0, but the Smokey's threads weren't. Sure as hell there was some reloading to do. With a quick motion, he cocked open the gun; 6 new punishments that the Bear would have to cope with.
Triggerman let loose the first of the last.
Make things easy for me smokey; die before I have to reload again.
-) Kuman is The Target
-) The Magnificent Seven: 2/3 (Kuman receives 10 damage, massive blind, disorient, deafen, immobilize, attempting to sweep Kuman off his footing)
i) Snipe: Vulcan2 Kuman's L backleg (20x5=100, enhanced accuracy, superior speed)
ii) Reload .45
iii) MarkCannon1 Kuman's R backleg (80, superior speed)
iv) Dodge
=Bullets Left: 5/6=
For that briefest of interludes after the powder smell, it seemed The Kid's gambit had paid off. The first legs had went but it was only a minor hindrance, like the occasional mob squealer who found himself dangling beyond comfort.
The Seven's din announced their intentions yet to the Slinger. They were exerting their will upon Kuman's composure, but the Lady had re-appeared; the Dame was intent on not losing her bet, and now she was keeping the reigns tight on Smokey so he didn't fall. Smokey was trying his damnest not to let the Sinners have the last word.
But she'd forgot just how easy her reigns could be cut.
The Kid was keeping at it; his scissors weren't as dull as Triggerman had thought.
He lowered his hat in the same nonchalant habit that had pervaded his every fight; there'd be a faller out of the big bastard yet.
"...I hope you've got an appetite, old man. Dinner ain't vegetarian tonight," he quipped to his silent operator.
"I've tasted lead in the gut before, Manco. I don't think I need to taste it in my food," Marlowe remarked smarmily.
Triggerman squinted through the Seven's rebellion; Edgar had tried to play the high route, act like bait and take the dice stings.
"...boy, you better start covering your own ass. Smokey's not looking too patient anymore," he barked at him. He didn't need the chump falling, but if he wanted to play fallguy, it'd make Kuman's cutting that much easier.
...You keep looking at Bloody Eddy, Smokey. Keep looking so you don't see them strings falling off.
He smashed the hammer and let loose his shot on Kuman's standing leg, hellnoise overriding the gun's callous report.
Well I'll be damned.
The Count was 0, but the Smokey's threads weren't. Sure as hell there was some reloading to do. With a quick motion, he cocked open the gun; 6 new punishments that the Bear would have to cope with.
Triggerman let loose the first of the last.
Make things easy for me smokey; die before I have to reload again.
-) Kuman is The Target
-) The Magnificent Seven: 2/3 (Kuman receives 10 damage, massive blind, disorient, deafen, immobilize, attempting to sweep Kuman off his footing)
i) Snipe: Vulcan2 Kuman's L backleg (20x5=100, enhanced accuracy, superior speed)
ii) Reload .45
iii) MarkCannon1 Kuman's R backleg (80, superior speed)
iv) Dodge
=Bullets Left: 5/6=
last edited by
Kuman, still able to mostly see, drive a paw downwards at Triggerman, hitting him, and a second at Edgar, who dodges. Barely. Edgar does notice a fait glimmer of something in Kuman's eye. Hope?
Edgar quickly tends to the wounded, putting his own safety as secondary. How noble!
Gunner guns, and guns well. He shoots Kuman's back legs, causing him to fall into the cloud of the Seven, disabling him.
Triggerman finishes the job Gunner started, shattering the bones in Kuman's back legs, making him unable to rear up out of the storm again.
Kuman: 705
Gungir.EXE: EJO (-500 Zenny)
Gunner.EXE: 40
Count_Edgar.EXE: 5
TriggerMan.EXE: 11
Special: Kuman Minor Netdrain has ended! Full Speed restored.
Special: Kuman is Blinded! His single target attacks have a higher chance of missing.
Special: Kuman's back legs are broken! Extreme penalties to movement and dodge.
Special: The Magnificent Seven: 2/3
Edgar quickly tends to the wounded, putting his own safety as secondary. How noble!
Gunner guns, and guns well. He shoots Kuman's back legs, causing him to fall into the cloud of the Seven, disabling him.
Triggerman finishes the job Gunner started, shattering the bones in Kuman's back legs, making him unable to rear up out of the storm again.
Kuman: 705
Gungir.EXE: EJO (-500 Zenny)
Gunner.EXE: 40
Count_Edgar.EXE: 5
TriggerMan.EXE: 11
Special: Kuman Minor Netdrain has ended! Full Speed restored.
Special: Kuman is Blinded! His single target attacks have a higher chance of missing.
Special: Kuman's back legs are broken! Extreme penalties to movement and dodge.
Special: The Magnificent Seven: 2/3
last edited by
Edgar looks into Kuman's eye, and sees something.... Unexpected. A glimmer, of hope? Fear? Desperation? Whatever it was, it meant that this beast, the source of the mutations and CPU drainage, could very well be one of the victims in this whole affair. Then, Edgar's..... shoes failed? YES HIS SHOES, the source of his flight, have failed, as he is now falling to the ground. He land on the ground, and there is a massive cracking sound. The landing broke nearly all of the bones in his legs. Yet, he seems to stand up, and starts to walk towards gunner and triggerman. Each step towards them is accompanied by a cracking noise. Edgar then speaks, thinking that they believe that he needed to look after himself more. "I've been tough worse" was what he said, as he raises his hand some, and this box appears in his hand. He opens it with his other hand, and a massive bright light shines out. It is unknown to all what color it is, or even what will happen, but it will do something incredible.
(heal self for 8
DBLbeam 30 heal all or 30 damage foes
Heal trigger for 30 with blood pummel)
(heal self for 8
DBLbeam 30 heal all or 30 damage foes
Heal trigger for 30 with blood pummel)
last edited by
"Heh... Only these two left, huh Swift?" Gunner fanned the two chips in his mind, inspecting them carefully. Neither seemed particularly useful.
"Yeah. Things are about to get a lot tougher; it's just a test of endurance, now."
"But we have the bloody mage on our side; So long as he manages to tend to himsef as well as he's tended to us, we can outlast this thing no problem."
"Still..." Swift's usual imperious air was gone. "I feel a bit helpless. After these two chips, we have nothing more to offer. The Cybeast can shrug off the Hawkeye like a second skin, and you don't have much in the way of upgrades. Soon enough, this fight's going to turn into a mutual struggle between us and the Beast."
"You gotta count on the other guys some more. Edgar'll give us the power to last this out, and the Man With No Name's more powerful than we are by far. This thing'll go down, no problem."
A rare sincere smile crept across Swift's lips. "Glad you think so too. Now, time for an ammo dump!"
Gunner held his left arm out straight, Sulphur dissapearing from his grasp in a gentle coruscating wave of light; the same wave of light that spread from his shoulder, leaving burnished metal in its wake. Before long, an exceedingly strange weapon decorated Gunner's arm. Unlike the quintessential navi weapon, the Buster, this weapon formed around his arm instead of replacing it entirely.
The weapon itself was little more than a simple metal tube, widening in a sudden step at Gunner's wrist and sontinuing a foot or so past. Like all weapons, though, this one had a trigger. He raised the weapon up to a forty-five degree angle and pulled. A satisfying sound like one made from blowing into a cardboard tube hinted at the source of propulsion that sent a small purple ball on its way to Kuman, where it soon landed and burst in a dome of black light and purple static. The strange weapon itself absorbed the recoil from the Magbomb's launch, the larger portion from Gunner's wrist onwards shooting a short distance up the weapon's length to compensate for the force. "All of a sudden, I like this thing," mused Gunner.
The weapon wasn't done yet. As it fell back and reset into its original position, the large portion slowly rotated, stopping with a click as it reset itself. Now, the weapon was pointed directly at Kuman. Light began to collect in the barrel of the unorthodox weapon as it began to spin again, faster this time. Shortly, the light shot from the barrell in a three-fingered buckshot pattern before converging again on the bear's position. The weapon left in a blaze of light.
---------------
0.5. Snipe (Increase Magbomb's accuracy)
1. Magbomb (30, Elec, [c]) [Stun?] Kuman
2. Cannon (40, [A]) Kuman
3-4. Attack (10) Kuman
"Yeah. Things are about to get a lot tougher; it's just a test of endurance, now."
"But we have the bloody mage on our side; So long as he manages to tend to himsef as well as he's tended to us, we can outlast this thing no problem."
"Still..." Swift's usual imperious air was gone. "I feel a bit helpless. After these two chips, we have nothing more to offer. The Cybeast can shrug off the Hawkeye like a second skin, and you don't have much in the way of upgrades. Soon enough, this fight's going to turn into a mutual struggle between us and the Beast."
"You gotta count on the other guys some more. Edgar'll give us the power to last this out, and the Man With No Name's more powerful than we are by far. This thing'll go down, no problem."
A rare sincere smile crept across Swift's lips. "Glad you think so too. Now, time for an ammo dump!"
Gunner held his left arm out straight, Sulphur dissapearing from his grasp in a gentle coruscating wave of light; the same wave of light that spread from his shoulder, leaving burnished metal in its wake. Before long, an exceedingly strange weapon decorated Gunner's arm. Unlike the quintessential navi weapon, the Buster, this weapon formed around his arm instead of replacing it entirely.
The weapon itself was little more than a simple metal tube, widening in a sudden step at Gunner's wrist and sontinuing a foot or so past. Like all weapons, though, this one had a trigger. He raised the weapon up to a forty-five degree angle and pulled. A satisfying sound like one made from blowing into a cardboard tube hinted at the source of propulsion that sent a small purple ball on its way to Kuman, where it soon landed and burst in a dome of black light and purple static. The strange weapon itself absorbed the recoil from the Magbomb's launch, the larger portion from Gunner's wrist onwards shooting a short distance up the weapon's length to compensate for the force. "All of a sudden, I like this thing," mused Gunner.
The weapon wasn't done yet. As it fell back and reset into its original position, the large portion slowly rotated, stopping with a click as it reset itself. Now, the weapon was pointed directly at Kuman. Light began to collect in the barrel of the unorthodox weapon as it began to spin again, faster this time. Shortly, the light shot from the barrell in a three-fingered buckshot pattern before converging again on the bear's position. The weapon left in a blaze of light.
---------------
0.5. Snipe (Increase Magbomb's accuracy)
1. Magbomb (30, Elec, [c]) [Stun?] Kuman
2. Cannon (40, [A]) Kuman
3-4. Attack (10) Kuman
last edited by
...five.
The Slinger squinted at Smokey amidst the desert's Purgatory. Kuman had gone done a fine job of laying down his own fight.
He'd fallen but he hadn't Fallen.
The bullets had taken Kuman off his footing, but the carcass was only half made. The Dame's vultures had fled long ago but they were keen to come back-- and still she insisted on playing their heartstrings. Death's chariot had grown restless-- he wanted his fall man, and with thinning patience he would be content with settling for less.
Marlowe's smoke heavy baritone came over the link. "I ain't going to lie to you, Manco," he gruffed. "We're running out of bullets-- you think you still have it in you to make the carcass?"
Triggerman stayed silent, his lack of voice fulfilled instead by Hell's wash of cacophony. His thoughts were affixed with lead, distracted by half notions and the embittered concepts of the bullet.
He was obsessed with having the cure to Kuman's ailment; the bastard's sickness was choosing still not to sleep.
All roar and wind; the Slinger's allies had snapped to action once more.
But then Her voice came.
Feel like gambling?
The Dame had asked him the question, the kind with an answer too cold to make out the syllables that would frost the words.
Pick a card-- any card.
She fancied herself a magician, but he knew it was just a parlor trick. She was selling a damn guessing game with no easy return.
"...you know something, old man?" Triggerman finally responded gravelly, breaking his pause. "...I'm feeling lucky."
"You've never seemed the type... and you know I've never trusted her song and dance routine."
Triggerman lowered his hat. "...I think the bitch has come to my side of street."
"...I'll tell you something else. I'm pissed off now-- out of smokes," Marlowe grunted detachedly.
"...Too bad he ain't," Triggerman quipped through gritted teeth, with a nod to Kuman.
Triggerman knew the cards-- the dealer was on his side, The Damn Dame and Old Man Death both. He stood as if alone, just one of the lonely damned with a hell of display and a torn poncho behind.
But he was already too dead; too close to the Devil himself not to give Kuman an introduction too.
The sand spectre faded into the Seven's maelstrom, that hell he shared with the septet of fleeing sinners and a whole lot of broken liars.
In their next enfuried pass by Kuman, their gale turned sharp; from its sand appeared Triggerman's tattered poncho, and hat in close succession like an afterthought.
The tattered ghost drew himself upon the felled bear, hand reaching for neck, while gun arm prepared itself ceremonially. He was without time to indulge in a mental monologue or bleak observation; he was without time to try the Lady's fickleness. He cocked the hammer with steeled conviction at an instant.
Triggerman bore that cold barrel against Kuman's head, the Seven's hurricane encouraging every aggression with fanfare all their own.
He pulled the trigger at point blank, noise damp like any cry of pain that might've been. But Triggerman knew he'd yet to get his hands dirty; he holstered the .45 as a RageClaw began to take form in its stead.
He held onto Kuman's neck for every damned penny worth of a hurt he could donate, because he was nursing one. With a heavy hand, he threw a blow against the bear's skull, smashing it like he'd never held a gun before.
But the moment had passed; the slinger made haste to avoid Kuman's retaliation.
The beast was crippled but not tamed. In another moment, he had become a ghost again. Poncho and hat were what had become of Triggerman once more, and in escape, it drifted into the Sinner's domain.
The Magnificent Seven began their hard goodbyes; gale tormented that which had fallen, flame jeering like cattle prods upon the still quaking earth.
Hell had cleared, but Death was a patient one.
-)Kuman is The Target
-)The Magnificent Seven, 3/3 (10 damage, kuman massively blinded, deafened, disoriented, immobilized)
1)AreaGrab onto Kuman's neck
2)Snipe: Shotgun Kuman's head (60+ damage?, high accuracy)
3)RageClaw Kuman's head (40+ damage?)
-)Activate Spectre.GMO
4)Fade away into storm/Dodge
-)The Magnificent Seven dismissed (additional 10 damage)
=The Count: 4/6=
The Slinger squinted at Smokey amidst the desert's Purgatory. Kuman had gone done a fine job of laying down his own fight.
He'd fallen but he hadn't Fallen.
The bullets had taken Kuman off his footing, but the carcass was only half made. The Dame's vultures had fled long ago but they were keen to come back-- and still she insisted on playing their heartstrings. Death's chariot had grown restless-- he wanted his fall man, and with thinning patience he would be content with settling for less.
Marlowe's smoke heavy baritone came over the link. "I ain't going to lie to you, Manco," he gruffed. "We're running out of bullets-- you think you still have it in you to make the carcass?"
Triggerman stayed silent, his lack of voice fulfilled instead by Hell's wash of cacophony. His thoughts were affixed with lead, distracted by half notions and the embittered concepts of the bullet.
He was obsessed with having the cure to Kuman's ailment; the bastard's sickness was choosing still not to sleep.
All roar and wind; the Slinger's allies had snapped to action once more.
But then Her voice came.
Feel like gambling?
The Dame had asked him the question, the kind with an answer too cold to make out the syllables that would frost the words.
Pick a card-- any card.
She fancied herself a magician, but he knew it was just a parlor trick. She was selling a damn guessing game with no easy return.
"...you know something, old man?" Triggerman finally responded gravelly, breaking his pause. "...I'm feeling lucky."
"You've never seemed the type... and you know I've never trusted her song and dance routine."
Triggerman lowered his hat. "...I think the bitch has come to my side of street."
"...I'll tell you something else. I'm pissed off now-- out of smokes," Marlowe grunted detachedly.
"...Too bad he ain't," Triggerman quipped through gritted teeth, with a nod to Kuman.
Triggerman knew the cards-- the dealer was on his side, The Damn Dame and Old Man Death both. He stood as if alone, just one of the lonely damned with a hell of display and a torn poncho behind.
But he was already too dead; too close to the Devil himself not to give Kuman an introduction too.
The sand spectre faded into the Seven's maelstrom, that hell he shared with the septet of fleeing sinners and a whole lot of broken liars.
In their next enfuried pass by Kuman, their gale turned sharp; from its sand appeared Triggerman's tattered poncho, and hat in close succession like an afterthought.
The tattered ghost drew himself upon the felled bear, hand reaching for neck, while gun arm prepared itself ceremonially. He was without time to indulge in a mental monologue or bleak observation; he was without time to try the Lady's fickleness. He cocked the hammer with steeled conviction at an instant.
Triggerman bore that cold barrel against Kuman's head, the Seven's hurricane encouraging every aggression with fanfare all their own.
He pulled the trigger at point blank, noise damp like any cry of pain that might've been. But Triggerman knew he'd yet to get his hands dirty; he holstered the .45 as a RageClaw began to take form in its stead.
He held onto Kuman's neck for every damned penny worth of a hurt he could donate, because he was nursing one. With a heavy hand, he threw a blow against the bear's skull, smashing it like he'd never held a gun before.
But the moment had passed; the slinger made haste to avoid Kuman's retaliation.
The beast was crippled but not tamed. In another moment, he had become a ghost again. Poncho and hat were what had become of Triggerman once more, and in escape, it drifted into the Sinner's domain.
The Magnificent Seven began their hard goodbyes; gale tormented that which had fallen, flame jeering like cattle prods upon the still quaking earth.
Hell had cleared, but Death was a patient one.
-)Kuman is The Target
-)The Magnificent Seven, 3/3 (10 damage, kuman massively blinded, deafened, disoriented, immobilized)
1)AreaGrab onto Kuman's neck
2)Snipe: Shotgun Kuman's head (60+ damage?, high accuracy)
3)RageClaw Kuman's head (40+ damage?)
-)Activate Spectre.GMO
4)Fade away into storm/Dodge
-)The Magnificent Seven dismissed (additional 10 damage)
=The Count: 4/6=
last edited by
Kuman, lying broken and bleeding on the ground, starts to breathe heavily, the labored breathing almost has a laughter like quality to it. This haunting sound echos around the valley, taunting the Navis.
Edgar patches himself and Triggerman up, while his DBLBeam spun around, revealing the red side, blasting Kuman.
Gunner somehow snipes a bomb, hitting it with the bomb, Kuman shrugs off the stun again, however. Gunner's follow-up shots all land as well, easily.
As the storm dies, Triggerman warps in to do some uncharacteristic short-range fighting. A point blank range shotgun can do quite a bit extra damage, then a claw to the neck can help any fighter's cause, but Kuman manages to fling Triggerman on the ground, landing right between Gunner and Edgar.
With all of the Navi's one place, Kuman's 'laughter' stops long enough to cough up a mighty breath, a large gout of 'wooden' breath, which easily overtakes the three Navi's.
Kuman: 360
Gunner.EXE: 1
Count_Edgar.EXE: 1
TriggerMan.EXE: 1
Special: Kuman Minor Netdrain has ended! Full Speed restored.
Special: Kuman's back legs are broken! Extreme penalties to movement and dodge.
Edgar patches himself and Triggerman up, while his DBLBeam spun around, revealing the red side, blasting Kuman.
Gunner somehow snipes a bomb, hitting it with the bomb, Kuman shrugs off the stun again, however. Gunner's follow-up shots all land as well, easily.
As the storm dies, Triggerman warps in to do some uncharacteristic short-range fighting. A point blank range shotgun can do quite a bit extra damage, then a claw to the neck can help any fighter's cause, but Kuman manages to fling Triggerman on the ground, landing right between Gunner and Edgar.
With all of the Navi's one place, Kuman's 'laughter' stops long enough to cough up a mighty breath, a large gout of 'wooden' breath, which easily overtakes the three Navi's.
Kuman: 360
Gunner.EXE: 1
Count_Edgar.EXE: 1
TriggerMan.EXE: 1
Special: Kuman Minor Netdrain has ended! Full Speed restored.
Special: Kuman's back legs are broken! Extreme penalties to movement and dodge.
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Edgar just got hit in the back by wood. He does not feel the pain of the attack, but he does have to kneel over some from the force of the hit. "I've been trough worse, trust me." He says while grinning. He manages to stand up, and then he says something else. "Looks like it is time for me to use something that might win this for us." He turns around to face Kuman. He raises his right arm into the air, and blood floats out of it at a fast rate into the air. At first, it creates a giant bubble. But when it size becomes bigger and bigger, it starts to change shape. When the blood stops flowing from Edgar's hand, the orb is now a giant long sword. The hilt was very oriental, like it was crafted for a king to whiled, the blade, sharp.
"Chishio No Kendo" Edgar shouted out, as his massive blood made long sword floats above his side, the tip facing Kuman. With the snap of Edgar's fingers, the blade starts to glow, then is engulfed in albino flames. The air around Edgar becomes unbearably dry, the plants start to wither away. Edgar, with a great yell, swings his arm forward. The blade then jets right at Kuman, the plants under it withers from the sheer heat of the weapon. The weapon finds it mark as either Kuman's shoulder or the ground near him. Kuman's fur begins to dry up from the flames. Edgar whispers to himself "Time for the fireworks to start." Then the blade.... Explodes. The storm of flames and hardened blood engulfs Kuman, unknown if it even damages him. It better have Edgar hopes, and he says to his allies "I think that is the last of my steam, the lord holds our fate now."
((Summery
0 holy strenght
1 Heatshot (40+20)*2
2 minibomb 60+20
3 minibomb 60+20))
"Chishio No Kendo" Edgar shouted out, as his massive blood made long sword floats above his side, the tip facing Kuman. With the snap of Edgar's fingers, the blade starts to glow, then is engulfed in albino flames. The air around Edgar becomes unbearably dry, the plants start to wither away. Edgar, with a great yell, swings his arm forward. The blade then jets right at Kuman, the plants under it withers from the sheer heat of the weapon. The weapon finds it mark as either Kuman's shoulder or the ground near him. Kuman's fur begins to dry up from the flames. Edgar whispers to himself "Time for the fireworks to start." Then the blade.... Explodes. The storm of flames and hardened blood engulfs Kuman, unknown if it even damages him. It better have Edgar hopes, and he says to his allies "I think that is the last of my steam, the lord holds our fate now."
((Summery
0 holy strenght
1 Heatshot (40+20)*2
2 minibomb 60+20
3 minibomb 60+20))
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"This is it... We've run out of chips. Nothing to do now but hope."
"And the best kind of hope is laced with hot lead." Gunner's comment only managed to increase the melodrama, though. "Let's see if those Navicust parts paid off." He reached into the holster.
The result was... Unexpected. His hand came to grasp nothing; in fact, he no longer had a hand. In its place was a common-issue buster with a paint job that matched Gunner's usual colors, gleaming in ebony and crimson. This was pretty unusual, but he had figuratively asked for it; he hadn't got a weapon firmly fixed in his mind when he reached in. The thing had a mind of its own, sometimes.
With a shrug, Gunner decided to make the best of it. He focussed his mind, and energy began to collect in a tiny orb at the yawning mouth of the thing. Motes of pure light drifted to the growing sphere of power until its size reached a peak. He let fly with the stored energy and fly it did, in a tear drop-shaped mass that screamed through the air at the oversized bear. It was soon followed up with another shot, although this one paled in comparison to the fireworks moments before.
---------------
I'm in a hurry and my Gunner muse is slackening. Sorry for the shortie.
1-3. Charge Attack (40) Kuman
4. Attack (10) Kuman
"And the best kind of hope is laced with hot lead." Gunner's comment only managed to increase the melodrama, though. "Let's see if those Navicust parts paid off." He reached into the holster.
The result was... Unexpected. His hand came to grasp nothing; in fact, he no longer had a hand. In its place was a common-issue buster with a paint job that matched Gunner's usual colors, gleaming in ebony and crimson. This was pretty unusual, but he had figuratively asked for it; he hadn't got a weapon firmly fixed in his mind when he reached in. The thing had a mind of its own, sometimes.
With a shrug, Gunner decided to make the best of it. He focussed his mind, and energy began to collect in a tiny orb at the yawning mouth of the thing. Motes of pure light drifted to the growing sphere of power until its size reached a peak. He let fly with the stored energy and fly it did, in a tear drop-shaped mass that screamed through the air at the oversized bear. It was soon followed up with another shot, although this one paled in comparison to the fireworks moments before.
---------------
I'm in a hurry and my Gunner muse is slackening. Sorry for the shortie.
1-3. Charge Attack (40) Kuman
4. Attack (10) Kuman
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She'd dropped the damned deck now. No more hands or suites to play; a burning joker at the bottom of the pack because everything was folded now. That hairy bastard didn't have any more rolls or chips to throw in.
His stack was empty.
The Kid and Doc had pitched in shots, but Triggerman knew the other two who'd sealed it.
The three had cornered that green son-of-a-bitch; They'd bullied him into that corner without so much as a drink, the Slinger, the Lady, and the Scytheman. They were a hell of a bunch; a Wild Bunch, and the Slinger didn't much like the other two.
They were The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly... and Smokey was without a prayer.
Ugly's chariot still waited in the wings, and now the Lady's vultures heralded it for all it was worth. They'd cawed like a whore's brat first and last breath, come out of hiding because they'd seen the Sinners out the door now. Their sandy purgatory had left, but there was plenty more hell where it had come from; they were just as well inviting Smokey.
The raptors swooped low now; making the paces arbitrarily, because they knew the domino could fall either way. The Slinger knew he was hanging on by the Lady's last thread, her fickle favor; he knew they'd be just as pleased with his carcass as Smokey's. Low circles for the hacken-eyed profiteers and too little to hide.
Triggerman lowered his hat for another damn time, giving a secure tug to his dustworn headpiece in some kind of morbid air.
If Ugly's going cold on me, I'm sure as hell keeping my hat on...
He still had the RageClaw; she had a few swings left in her, enough to swing Smokey to where he'd hibernate for a good time.
Triggerman cocked open the .45's chamber, frowning at the Count; too keen, the bullets. Too much for Smokey, more than he deserved.
Too many bullets he thought.
The leads all fell out; three clinks on the ground deprived of a bloody destination, except for a loner that remained in the chamber.
One bullet in the gun; seemed enough.
One too many, for you, Smokey.
He holstered his faithful companion, patting it with some kind of detached respect. It was a reassurance; the promise that he'd have the last word.
And The Slinger was keen on keeping that promise.
Triggerman made his final rush on Smokey; a whole lot of bullets and skin fading into nothing but a too-broken poncho and sorry hat. The Desert Ghost again, but accompanied by a pair of allies and another duet of punishers.
It was five against one.
The Slinger's phantom poncho threw itself at the prone cybeast again, and from the empty poncho appeared Triggerman's fully bleeding form. From his tattered folds he withdrew his still active RageClaw, still hot from its last encounter with Kuman's hissy fit.
But the brat wasn't getting his way this time; they were going to put that bastard to sleep now, smother the mockingbird because it'd never sang easy on the ears.
The distance was closed; Triggerman flung his claw-bearing arm at Kuman's head with the kind of empowerment only the Bad Dame and the Hooded Bastard would ever give.
The starving ones, the black artisans, them bloody buzzards invited themselves; they flung their feathered forms eager at Kuman, The Faller, prematurely clawed at the meat like a preview.
The Slinger threw another blow, felt the claws weighted with the Scytheman's effort too; the Old Man still had his scythearm intact. The black artisans were making some cacophony, raucous like a company of beermongers that wouldn't be told better. Still cawing, still clawing at what they'd labelled theirs.
Triggerman disengaged the Claw with a flick of his wrist; spent too long with it if only to get on Smokey's bad side.
He would keep his promise.
The Slinger withdrew his .45 without drama, cocked the hammer cold; he didn't need to aim, because the other two had done the aiming for him. No pause for the recollection of the jester's whole choreography, that somber ballet of battle.
He pulled the trigger.
The Old Man had put on his hood again.
...Don'cha hear that whistle blowin' Smokey? That train's for you.
=Summary=
i) Dodge/Drift into melee range
ii) RageClaw Kuman's head (40)
iii) RageClaw Kuman's head (40)
iv) Attack Kuman's head point blank (2)
=The Count: 0/6=
His stack was empty.
The Kid and Doc had pitched in shots, but Triggerman knew the other two who'd sealed it.
The three had cornered that green son-of-a-bitch; They'd bullied him into that corner without so much as a drink, the Slinger, the Lady, and the Scytheman. They were a hell of a bunch; a Wild Bunch, and the Slinger didn't much like the other two.
They were The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly... and Smokey was without a prayer.
Ugly's chariot still waited in the wings, and now the Lady's vultures heralded it for all it was worth. They'd cawed like a whore's brat first and last breath, come out of hiding because they'd seen the Sinners out the door now. Their sandy purgatory had left, but there was plenty more hell where it had come from; they were just as well inviting Smokey.
The raptors swooped low now; making the paces arbitrarily, because they knew the domino could fall either way. The Slinger knew he was hanging on by the Lady's last thread, her fickle favor; he knew they'd be just as pleased with his carcass as Smokey's. Low circles for the hacken-eyed profiteers and too little to hide.
Triggerman lowered his hat for another damn time, giving a secure tug to his dustworn headpiece in some kind of morbid air.
If Ugly's going cold on me, I'm sure as hell keeping my hat on...
He still had the RageClaw; she had a few swings left in her, enough to swing Smokey to where he'd hibernate for a good time.
Triggerman cocked open the .45's chamber, frowning at the Count; too keen, the bullets. Too much for Smokey, more than he deserved.
Too many bullets he thought.
The leads all fell out; three clinks on the ground deprived of a bloody destination, except for a loner that remained in the chamber.
One bullet in the gun; seemed enough.
One too many, for you, Smokey.
He holstered his faithful companion, patting it with some kind of detached respect. It was a reassurance; the promise that he'd have the last word.
And The Slinger was keen on keeping that promise.
Triggerman made his final rush on Smokey; a whole lot of bullets and skin fading into nothing but a too-broken poncho and sorry hat. The Desert Ghost again, but accompanied by a pair of allies and another duet of punishers.
It was five against one.
The Slinger's phantom poncho threw itself at the prone cybeast again, and from the empty poncho appeared Triggerman's fully bleeding form. From his tattered folds he withdrew his still active RageClaw, still hot from its last encounter with Kuman's hissy fit.
But the brat wasn't getting his way this time; they were going to put that bastard to sleep now, smother the mockingbird because it'd never sang easy on the ears.
The distance was closed; Triggerman flung his claw-bearing arm at Kuman's head with the kind of empowerment only the Bad Dame and the Hooded Bastard would ever give.
The starving ones, the black artisans, them bloody buzzards invited themselves; they flung their feathered forms eager at Kuman, The Faller, prematurely clawed at the meat like a preview.
The Slinger threw another blow, felt the claws weighted with the Scytheman's effort too; the Old Man still had his scythearm intact. The black artisans were making some cacophony, raucous like a company of beermongers that wouldn't be told better. Still cawing, still clawing at what they'd labelled theirs.
Triggerman disengaged the Claw with a flick of his wrist; spent too long with it if only to get on Smokey's bad side.
He would keep his promise.
The Slinger withdrew his .45 without drama, cocked the hammer cold; he didn't need to aim, because the other two had done the aiming for him. No pause for the recollection of the jester's whole choreography, that somber ballet of battle.
He pulled the trigger.
The Old Man had put on his hood again.
...Don'cha hear that whistle blowin' Smokey? That train's for you.
=Summary=
i) Dodge/Drift into melee range
ii) RageClaw Kuman's head (40)
iii) RageClaw Kuman's head (40)
iv) Attack Kuman's head point blank (2)
=The Count: 0/6=
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Count Edgar bombs away at Kuman, Sending him to new worlds of hurt. Kuman's laughing only seems to get louder as he drives his paw down at edgar, but he misses, and only succeds in burring his claws into the ground.
Gunner fires a shot with all of his energy at Kuman, knocking him around wildly, and three audible snaps can be heard as his arm is pulled free. Kuman's 'laughter' is almost drowning out all of the other sounds around them, it's almost a full roar.
Triggerman slashes viciously at Kuman, then, shoots him between the eyes for the hell of it. Suddenly, Kuman's laughter stops. Dead silence rolls across the area.
Then from the bullet hole, a brilliant green ray of light shoot upwards through the sky, shattering the jackout barrier, and Kuman roars, causing the thick vegitation to die in the immediate area. The ray of light glows brighter and brighter, until it consumes Kuman's body utterly. The beam, now split into many seperated beams, fly upwards, then spiral outwards, over the heads of the trio of Navis. As each ray makes an impact with the ground, it takes the shape of Kuman, over and over again, until Kuman's had been dispersed in all directions.
What have the Navi's released?
Kuman: UNLEASHED
Gunner.EXE: 1
Count_Edgar.EXE: 1
TriggerMan.EXE: 1
Rewards:
Gunner.EXE: BambooSword, Kuman's Claw
Count_Edgar.EXE: BambooSword, Kuman's Claw
TriggerMan.EXE: BambooSword, Kuman's Claw
Gunner fires a shot with all of his energy at Kuman, knocking him around wildly, and three audible snaps can be heard as his arm is pulled free. Kuman's 'laughter' is almost drowning out all of the other sounds around them, it's almost a full roar.
Triggerman slashes viciously at Kuman, then, shoots him between the eyes for the hell of it. Suddenly, Kuman's laughter stops. Dead silence rolls across the area.
Then from the bullet hole, a brilliant green ray of light shoot upwards through the sky, shattering the jackout barrier, and Kuman roars, causing the thick vegitation to die in the immediate area. The ray of light glows brighter and brighter, until it consumes Kuman's body utterly. The beam, now split into many seperated beams, fly upwards, then spiral outwards, over the heads of the trio of Navis. As each ray makes an impact with the ground, it takes the shape of Kuman, over and over again, until Kuman's had been dispersed in all directions.
What have the Navi's released?
Kuman: UNLEASHED
Gunner.EXE: 1
Count_Edgar.EXE: 1
TriggerMan.EXE: 1
Rewards:
Gunner.EXE: BambooSword, Kuman's Claw
Count_Edgar.EXE: BambooSword, Kuman's Claw
TriggerMan.EXE: BambooSword, Kuman's Claw
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Edgar has protected his allies, but their foe, the bear Kuman, has split into numerous copies of itself. Was that was the bear's plan? Edgar did not care about that at the moment. The blood used in the attack slowly returns to him as he moves to one of the trees and sits down by it.
"So, who here has the strange feeling that things might have gotten worse?" He asks, not truly knowing what has truly happened. "Well, at least we made it out of this alive." He said, chuckling some.
"So, who here has the strange feeling that things might have gotten worse?" He asks, not truly knowing what has truly happened. "Well, at least we made it out of this alive." He said, chuckling some.
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"Unforatnetly, I am going off somewhere to heal myself in confert." Edgar said, as he slowly starts to vanish. And in a few moments, he was gone.
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Swift was silent. Gunner was silent. Only thunder's throaty rumble could be heard in his small apartment. A rather flip touch from the Powers that Were, spicing up life's eternal drama. It added... weight... to what had just transpired. The Powers fancied melodrama, it seemed.
"What..." Swift feebly broke the silence, but his words trailed off too soon after their conception.
"... The thing's a genius." Gunner stated.
"What?" Swift was weakly incredulous.
"Whatever we just did, whatever happened, the beast wanted it to happen? Couldn't you hear? It was... laughing."
Somber silence descended once again. Swift felt like he was going to empty his morning coffee across the floor.
"Let's report to the Police... It's all we can do to clean up whatever it is we've unleashesd. I took a video."
"Alright." Gunner was preoccupied with scrawling something onto a piece of paper he had conjured from the PET's word program. He made his infirm way to the man in the poncho, and held out the scratched note with his one good arm: peacefulking@home.net.
"I don't know your name, but mine's Gunner. My operator, Swift. You were really a great part of this fight... Email us sometime if you want to fight together again." With a nod, Gunner simply dissapeared from the face of the Net.
"What..." Swift feebly broke the silence, but his words trailed off too soon after their conception.
"... The thing's a genius." Gunner stated.
"What?" Swift was weakly incredulous.
"Whatever we just did, whatever happened, the beast wanted it to happen? Couldn't you hear? It was... laughing."
Somber silence descended once again. Swift felt like he was going to empty his morning coffee across the floor.
"Let's report to the Police... It's all we can do to clean up whatever it is we've unleashesd. I took a video."
"Alright." Gunner was preoccupied with scrawling something onto a piece of paper he had conjured from the PET's word program. He made his infirm way to the man in the poncho, and held out the scratched note with his one good arm: peacefulking@home.net.
"I don't know your name, but mine's Gunner. My operator, Swift. You were really a great part of this fight... Email us sometime if you want to fight together again." With a nod, Gunner simply dissapeared from the face of the Net.
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Smokey'd played him; hell, the dame had been in on it. That was why she'd been so keen to see Old Smokey make amends as the raptor fodder. She'd cheated on her old flame Death; poor bastard didn't get to make any scythe work even after he'd put in the effort to lug his damn pull cart too.
And now the one who should've been the Faller was laughing like the Jester that stayed in the deck.
Dracula and The Kid had gone and left. They'd played their parts to the dame's satisfaction too-- hapless marionettes just like him. But they'd gone done only what they'd thought they knew, just like Triggerman.
He brushed himself off as an afterthought; poncho was tattered like a defaced tribute to Smokey's reckoning. He'd seen better days... and he'd felt them too. Just hanging by that familiar thread while the Dame had fled already. She'd done her fancy.
"...so how're you holding up?" Marlowe quipped in a kind of morbid gravel.
"...Go to hell."
One stroke of a callous breeze passed through the poncho, half a moment to spare. A whole lot of dust and then a whole lot of nothing.
A tumbleweed passed by. The poncho was gone.
And now the one who should've been the Faller was laughing like the Jester that stayed in the deck.
Dracula and The Kid had gone and left. They'd played their parts to the dame's satisfaction too-- hapless marionettes just like him. But they'd gone done only what they'd thought they knew, just like Triggerman.
He brushed himself off as an afterthought; poncho was tattered like a defaced tribute to Smokey's reckoning. He'd seen better days... and he'd felt them too. Just hanging by that familiar thread while the Dame had fled already. She'd done her fancy.
"...so how're you holding up?" Marlowe quipped in a kind of morbid gravel.
"...Go to hell."
One stroke of a callous breeze passed through the poncho, half a moment to spare. A whole lot of dust and then a whole lot of nothing.
A tumbleweed passed by. The poncho was gone.