The Den Games Network Forum RPG
virtualoctopus, CKW, Wesforce
Zizz looked at his watch as he raced up the stairs, he still had six minutes 'till the wings were charged, and he was only two floors from the roof, he glanced down and saw the woman, who he'd nicknamed Bitch, only a floor away from him. He looked up again and saw an OUT OF ORDER sign... ohh this was gonna hurt. Zizz lowered his shoulder and quickened his pace a little, crashing through the door and meeting the blast of wind that was carressing the top of the building. He stumbled, and fell into a sloppy roll to keep his momentum, looked back and saw that Bitch was still behind him... big surprise. He looked at his watch, 5 mins left.. damn, this would be dangerous, he then reached the end of the building, jumped, and feeling the wind force pushing him away from the building, pressed the WING button, which stiffened his arms, and gave him full control of the wings. He pushed down into a dive, and franticly tried to gain the speed to soar at. The wings were aching and felt rough, probably because they weren't charged, but there weren't any other options now, he pulled up about thirty feet from the floor, and let himself glide towards the ground.
Shit! The wings gave way, releasing his arms from their stiff cucoon, and sending him plumeting the remaining ten feet.
"FRAG!" he exclaimed, landing, and feeling his legs crumple beneath him. He looked around and saw the car about five feet away. Zizz decided to drag himself to the car pretty sharp, before Bitch could make it down the 110 floors. He dragged himself upto the driver's side door, his legs throbbing with pain, unlocked the car and opened the door, took a deep breath, let out half and pulled himself into the drivers seat, slamming the door. Zizz had to do something to prove that he was still alive, to prove that he could still soar... he pumped the accelerator and headed for the Bio Dome.
Mary closed her eyes, thinking maybe she could make the time pass more quickly that way. She tried to sleep. A faint whirring sound cut through the van's roar and the music, niggling at the back of her mind.
Her eyes snapped open again.
The Priestess was staring at her, a smile playing on her lips.
"Um, problem?" Mary asked her. She haerd the sound again.
"No." The Priestess smiled.
Questions filled Mary's mind.
She didn't have time to answer them before the sound she had started to hear exploded into the full-throated roar of engines. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, vehicles were surrounding the van...
In the passenger's seat, Badjimmy glanced in the wing-mirror.
"Shake it baby! Shake it baby! SH-A-A-KE!!!" Raven was singing, quite oblivious.
"RAVEN, Fragnuts! Badjimmy yelled, punching the driver in the shoulder.
"Look out the window!"
At least six motorbikes were roaring up the autobahn, easily outpacing the van. The bikes were mainly Yamaha Rapiers - speedy, light bikes, with a mix of human, Elf and Ork riders. The riders carried pistols and submachineguns, and two bikes had sidecars with passengers busy lighting molotov cocktails.
It was a go-gang - Nomadic Bikers who prowled the motorways, looking for lone, easy targets to trash so they could steal the loot. A lone easy target - Just like this one appeared to be.
Raven recognised the gang: The 501 Hellhounds. He'd known smuggler friends who'd run into them in the past.
The riders surrounded the van, as another bike pulled up the rear. It was a huge Honda viking - A bike specially designed to be ridden by 'The Larger Metahuman'. The rider was a massive barechested troll - His Huge-muscled and bony armoured chest was wrapped with a bandolier of shotgun cartridges - And he toted a Daisaka Autoshotgun in the hand he wasn't holding the handlebars with. He had two horns - One broken, the other with a dried eyeball impaled on it.
And he appeared to have a Dwarf on his shoulders. The flame-haired (and bearded) little halfer toted two machine pistols, and wore biker goggles..
"YAARRRGGH!" He screamed against the wind. "LET'S SET OUR HAIR ON FIRE! YO HO TEE HEE HAR!"
The Troll roared in agreement with his demented companion.
And the 501 Hellhounds attacked...
Matthew 'Zizz' Zizzler was wrapped up tight, his head wrapped in scarf against the biting wind and driven acid-rain. The only part of him not covered was his back.
"Zizz you rakking mongrel! You are seriusly insane. INSANE, I TELL YOU!" A small, oily Dwarf next to him screamed. The halfer was clinging on for dear life, daring not to look down.
He had a good reason: The two were perched high up in the decaying biofabric cages of the London biodomes, somewhere over the West End.
The wind howled like a banshee. When it changed direction, Zizz caught a whiff of the decaying odour of the biofabric and felt violently ill.
Great clouds of dust and particulates drifted upwards. Zizz turned to the Dwarf.
"Hey, Stavros, I've gotta practice for the Zaibatsu championships, right? And where better than the London biodomes?"
"Insane..." Stavros trailed off.
"But look! All these people! All these witnesses! I'll get coverage from the 3DTV crews and BANG! I'll get Corp sponsorship like a shot!"
"I'm going. Frag you Zizz! I resign! I hope you Fragging splat!"
The Dwarf crawled slowly back the way they'd came - The rooftop accessway from one of the dome support buildings. And Zizz never saw his manager ever again.
A shame, after all we've been through. I guess he never had the vision to see me through the big times..
Zizz pulled his goggles down over his eyes.
Ah, screw it. I've put this jump off for far too long!
Zizz launched himself off the edge of the dome - Through a gaping rent in the fabric, down, down into the reeking melange of pollution in the London atmosphere. He kept his body ramrod straight, aiming directly down, like a shot from the heavens.
The ground rushed up, closer and closer.
Little dots and blocks on the ground became people and cars with alarming speed. Zizz felt he could cry. He felt Alive, as only he could when in danger like this.
"Look at me people! LOOK AT MEEEEEE!!!!"
On the ground, crowds of masked commuters trudged through the grey, soaked streets, seekign cover from the biting rain.
Hyland Jacoby, a wageslave chanced to look up at the screaming figure plummeting heafirst into certain doom from the ruined dome.
"Another jumper, eh?" He mumbled to himself. "That crazy dick's got the right idea."
Hyland walked on.
At the last, critical moment, Zizz mentally deployed his wings.
One caught on the edge of his jacket.
"Wha? Slegging hell!"
He realised the error just in time. He reached around to pull the fabric away from the wing.
Big mistake - The sudden motion overbalanced him. With one wing deployed, he spralled crazily out of control - even more out of control than before.
The pavement was there. A man stared comically up - mouth agape like a robo-goldfish. Zizz' short, mindless life flashed before his eyes - School - College - Wing Training, the painful operation, his first girlfriend (an Ork)...
Ah well. See you in the next life.. He closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, he was back up in the air. H seemd to be going upwards.
Weird. I must have died and be going up to the heaven people used to believe in years ago...Hey, i still have my wings...Am I an angel?
Then he realised he wasn't dead. Somehow his wings were deployed - He was soaring on one of the plentiful thermals over the polluted city.
One good thing abouthe city, I suppose - Never short of hot air.
With the joy of life pumping through his veins, Zizz really let hiself go. He soared up, punching the air. He spiralled, he swooped. He circled a tower block. He mimicked a jet fighter's tailslide around a transmission mast.
"I AM GODZILLAAAAAAA!!!!" He screamed. He never knew what he said when he was like this - He just wanted to shout Something.
He rounded another tower block.
And faced his death, again. This time it came ibn the form of a leering, blunt shark-nose.
No, it wasn't a Shark. It was the shark-nose painted on the front of an RPF patrol panzer - Barrelling right towards him.
"FRAG YOU!!!" He screamed at the military machine, darting nimbly out of the way. He imagined the Rigger and Gunner inside getting their jollies by terrifying other sky-users regularly. Well they won't get me!
They didn't - But the huge amount of exhaust and jet-wash from the craft's insanely poweful engines did.
As it passed, he was sucked in and blown out like a flea in a vacuum cleaner. He spun uncontrollably. His wings weren't built to withstand punishment like this! They couldn't take it!
A building loomed large - He was heading right for it!
Crystal ran to her window.
"Fragging miltary flyboys!"
She meant the RPF panzer that had just buzzed her flat. The next thing she knew, she was covered in broken glass, knocked back against the far wall of her flat, crushed by a heavy weight. She blacked out.
She woke up - Moments? Hours? - Later The weight was still on her. It was a man. Instinctively, she kicked him in the balls.
He grunted, and fell unconsious with the pain again.
Then Crystal noticed his wings...
She examined further - Spotting the spiky blonde hair under the scarf he wore. She pulled it off, and recognised the face immediately...
"Holy drokk! Matthew Zizz Zizzler!"
Zizz awoke. He felt like one giant bruise, waiting to explode. His head ached. His wings - Now safely retracted again - had been almost torn off. His arms and legs had been jolted - And his balls were killing him. One eye blinked. It opened.
The aroma of a freshly brewed soykaf filled his battered nostrils.
"Thanks mum." he sipped the steaming drink. It was bitter with chemial additives, and tasted cheap.
"How's it taste?" The female voice asked.
"Pretty fragging crap actually, mum."
"I'm not your mum, Zizz."
"I am your number one fan."
Zizz opened his eyes. He'd had a nasty concussion - He could see a woman with blue hair.
"I feel...I want a drink."
"YEAH!" The woman said. Her voice hurt Zizz' head. "I'll take you down the pub to meet my friends!"
"I like pubs. I met a pretty girl there once..." He said, as darkness took him again.
Chance reacived Crystal's 'vid-call with relief. The girl seemed really excited about something. What it was, he couldn't tell.
She turned up at Mary's place in a small methane sub-compact car. Chance didn't know if it belonged to her or not. he'd never seen it before, though. He got in with Ash and Crash - Firearm had found some alcohol after all. They left him comatose in Mary's bath.
In the back of the vehicle lay an unconsious, blonde-haired man. Chance looked at Crash. Crash looked at Ash. Ash looked at Crystal, then back at Chance, putting a finger to her head and making a boggle-eyed face. Chance nodded.
They began driving - Crystal navigated the autonav through the West End.
"Crystal...I...Have to ask you." Crash gulped. "Did you beat up some poor slag, steal his car and kidnap him?"
"What, you don't recognise him?"
"Recognise...Oh...OH FRAG! MATTHEW 'ZIZZ' ZIZZLER! GROOVY!" The youngster exclaimed.
"I give up on you people." Chance muttered.
The car hummed to a standstill outside an upmarket-looking London pub - 'Synner's Redoubt' Crystal used slotted some twenty-pound coins into the parking meter. She had to get used to the archaic system of currency here in Britain all over again - Nuyen and Credsticks were also used, but the British had a hard time giving up their traditional currency, coins and notes.
She gave some money to Chance and Crash - Bundles of £5,000 notes.
"I'm a millionaire!" Crash squeaked.
"Yeah. That would be the equivalent of about ¥1,000, though."
"Ah. Okay." Crash moped, more than a little crestfallen.
They went into the pub - Carrying Zizz between them, and chose a table.
Crystal pointed to the barkeep - A black Elf.
"That there's Pearson. He's the man to talk to if you want info around here - Lots of wage slaves come in here."
Chance glanced around - There were indeed many corporates in here. One man was talking to Elven woman at the next table:
"So I says to my kid, right? I says 'No Leroy, I don't care if Timmins next door got a Datajack on the NHS, you're not getting one until you're 15!". His companion nodded in approval.
Crystal and Crash jaundered up to the bar. Pearson recognised Crash immediately.
"Hoi, Crystal. I see your 'aquaintances' get younger and younger'." He winked.
"Yeah yeah, frag you, dandelion eater. How's it going?"
"Alright, alright. Yaeh. We get quite afew of those Comet weirdos around here these days. Lot of those Church of Light types, too. How about you?"
"Oh, I was in Geneva when it was buked."
"Oh." Pearson shrugged. "Can't win 'em all."
"I need a Cyberdeck. A good one." Crash piped up.
"Thats a bit to-the-point. And also, highly illegal, I migt add." Pearon said, rolling his eyes towards his 'panicbutton' emergency 'phone."
"Ahem," Crystal said, pushing the wad of notes she'd given to Crash across the bar.
Pearson stared. After a moment he pocketed the notes.
"Okay. Meet the Puppet Master at the club tonight, room 3."
Silvia looked out the window.
"Well, 'priestess'... looks like you just got another chance to show off." She smiled. "Or we could all show them wat we got... together."
Tank grinned and looked at his friend. "Juz' like the old times... We can kick that fraggin' troll's ass."
Raven didn't like the idea of his van ending up in a fight though.
"Or we could run like hell! Seems like a better option to me."
Badjimmy aimed his gun out of the window, drawing a bead on the closest rider.
"Au revoir, monsieur dickhead!"
At that exact moment, Raven sideswiped the biker to his left. The nimble vehicle dodged - At such high speed, the van was at a disadvantage to its bulk.
"Merde! Idiote! IDIOTE!" Badjimmy howled.
"You made me drop my gun!!!"
A burst of machine pistol fire rattled off the van's side withour penetrating. Something landed and smashed on the roof - Filling the air with the smell of burning petrol.
Devastating shot-fire bracketed the backwindow - Ricocheting shotpellets scored Mary's arm and took a chunk out of The Binman's keg. The Ork Decker howled.
"YO HO HAR HAR HAR!" The Crazy Dwarf yelled again.
Suddenly, Raven cut the acelleration. The bikers overshot him, and Raven hoped to swerve around and make a break backwards - he wasn't going to outrun the bikers, that was for sure. However, the screaching tires in the turn were not tight enough, and the bikers twisted their machines, to surround the van. Raven whistled silently - now they were in trouble - and reached into his pocket for his gun.
From overhead, van was surounded by about a dozen riders. The troll was about the smash a huge fist into the door, while the others looked on. The boss always got first blood - it was unwritten law.
Inside the van, Raven whispered something. Badjimmy, the Binman, and Tank nodded. Silvia grabbed Dorodo and held him back - she didn't want him getting involved. Mary had missed what Raven said, but the man didn't repeat it, although the Elven Shaman had a smug look on her face. Dorodo squeaked, annoyed at being restrained - although he'd probably do more harm than good.
Raven's right hand slipped onto the door handle. Badjimmy did the same with his left. In the other, Raven gripped 'the negotiator', his prised pistol. Badjimmy gripped his heavy pistol - Raven would have to switch hands after the first shot. A ring-nosed, scarred elf, pulled his bike up, then drew a gun. He knocked with one hand on the window, and scowled in, mouthing obsecenities.
Tank grabbed what of his armour he could, and strapped it on quickly, with the help of the Binman. In his hands, he cradled his shotgun. The other Ork held his heavy pistol in one hand, a peice of Tank's armour that they hadn't been able to fit on as a makeshift shield in the other.
"Ok.." began Raven, "You're only supposed blow the bloody doors off". He smiled at his joke - he was proud of his ability to keep a clear head in situations such as these.
Suprisingly, Tank obliged, the behemoth of a greenskin bursting out of the back fo the van like a shaken narcobeer can being opened, one arm literally ripping the doors off their hinges.
Raven cursed - obviously the Ork's taste in antique movies wasn't as widespread as his own. However, time was of the essence. He and Badjimmy swung their doors open in unison, catching the bikers on either side by suprise. The reinforced van's doors caught the bikers, smashing them off their bikes, as both Raven and Badjimmy leapt out, spraying a storm of bullets at the attackers. Raven changed hands as planned.
Tank barelled into the Troll, the Dwarf flying off his shoulders. The biker swung a fist, but caught it on Tank's metal armour - Tank had a definate advantage, as the metahuman couldn't possibly wear anything as tough as it, despite his trollish bones - although Tank's mobility was greatly reduced.
The bikers, taken aback by this sudden couter-attack, took a casualty from Raven's gunfire. However, a returning hail of bullets sprayed the van, Mary, Silvia, and Dorodo ducking for cover.
Hurricane, however, slid out of the way of the bullet like molten chocolate, and shot another devestating smile at Silvia.
"Well, DemonEye - care to take up that offer? I'm sure we can show off much better together, sister"
Silvia returned an acid glare, and both women exited the van as one, the elf like a dancing shadow, the half-dragon slightly less gracefully.
Tank was outside, and Silvia could see he was fairly evenly matched against the Troll, neither able to best the other, nor risk using their shotguns with the other runners and bikers so nearby. The Dwarf was looking dazed on the ground, intermittantly laughing incessantly.
Hurricane took in the situation,, and glanced at her rival.
"11 left. Which side do you want? Left or right?"
"We're a team, remember....."
"Suit yourself, sister. Left it is"
The shaman, gripping her aspen staff in both hands, shot of a bolt of fizzling lightning towards the nearest biker, the perfect features of the elf contorted in a look of beautiful malice.
Silvia prepared to compete.
Mary, forgotten was left restraining the protesting but liable in combat goblin, Dorodo.
BadJimmy head-shot a human biker with the gun he'd found in Raven's glove compartment - an OCU Dingo 9mm. The little gun may have been underpowered, but a head-shot would end aything this side of an Ork still.
Kid slumped to the ground bonelessly, his HK Mp5TX clattering to the floor. Then the Elf detective faced another ganger, with a flaming molotov cocktail.
A rider blindsided him - The punky girl in leather jacket and shorts charged him, knocking him against the van's armoured side, winding him.
Badjimmy dropped his gun - Then he noticed the girl coming on again - She appeared to be unarmed, too.
"Very well, bitch-girl. Bring it on!"
The girl smiled, revealing teeth sharpened to points. Badjimmy gaped as the girl pulled off her thumb, and let it hang, by an invisible thread.
She swung the false thumb. Badjimmy dodged. He was too slow.
Four fingers fell off his left hand.
Tank took a punch in his unarmoured face, and went down, backwards, reeling, blood spurting from his nose. The dwarf roared in hyenalike laughter, discarding both it's guns.
His opponent brought up his shotgun - ready to end the life of the suprisingly good fighting Ork - the normal rule of the road was the more armour you wore, the worse you'd turn out in an actual melee. The troll grimaced, and prepared to squeeze.
Suddenly, Silvia noticed a molotov coctail flying towards open back side of the van.
"OK... that's it!" she yelled, while she jumped out of the van. The molotov exploded on her chest, and was blown towards the place where Tank and the Troll were fighting. The Troll had the bad luck of being the closest to Silvia, and was blown away a bit. Then they heard a scream - apparently the Dwarf got back on the Troll's shoulders somehow, and now his hair was really on fire.
Silvia slowly stepped out of the flames. After quickly shapeshifting to her Dragon form the Molotov coctail barely hurt her when it exploded. Her dragon skin was resistant to fire and strong enough to stop most glass splinters.
"Let's get 'em, Tank!" She screamed.
"GRRAAARGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!" The partially petrol-covered Troll screamed. He unleashed the full force of his autoshotgun at Silvia, draining the drum magazine in seconds. Silvia was battered by the shells, her wings holed, chest punctured.
But then Tank came up behind the Troll - Who had discarded his weapon for a huge rusty knife a human would call a long sword.
The Dwarf jumped down from the Troll. His hair had been burnt off in an instant. He lobbed a grenade indiscriminately at Tank and the Troll who towered over him, and three Ork bikers fired their machinepistols too - The light rounds inflicted light wounds on Tank's left arm and leg, and somewhat less on the Troll. A bullet pinged off his skull, irritatin him slightly. Another chipped a tusk.
Meanwhile, a girl-biker ran into the van. She spotted Mary and Hurricane, and advanced. Mary noticed the girl's left thumb seemed to be dangling in the air...
Raven tussled with one of the molotov-lobbers...
Silvia got up slowly. She was hurt pretty badly, but not badly enough to be defenseless; one of the bikers that got too close to her got his front wheel ripped apart with a dragon claw, and crashed into the tarmac.
"One more for me."
She ran back towards the van when she noticed Badjummy screaming "Monowire! Look out!"
The biker-girl advanced towards the van.
Mary seemed confused, but Hurricane reacted immediately. She caught the flying finger in a levitation spell and threw it back towards its owner. The biker-girl screamed when her own monowire cut off her hand.
Mary ran towards Silvia. "Oh my... that looks bad!"
"It is bad." Silvia replied. "Not as bad as it seems, but still bad. But that's not important now... we gotta help Tank!"
"Steady, sister." Hurricane said. "You're in no shape to help anyone. I'll take care of this."
"No. You've taken care of quite enough. He's mine!"
"Overmind, we are over Europe. We have travelled a really long distance in a record time!" cheered up Eva.
"Roger. I told you that the Wraith Dragon smuggled from MUNDI several months ago was a real masterpiece. Not only invisible to radar and sight, but also really damn fast."
"Looks like there's a bit of trouble down there. Look!" scruffly said Behemoth."
Pale lights appeared down in the landscape. Eva used the magnifying lens. A fight between some bikers and... the doctor she had met back in Geneva.
"Behemoth, this will take a second."
The Wraith lowered the height to reach the battle, still with the optic camouflage on.
"Frag! What now?" Raven screamed - There was a roaring in his ears like the end of the world. He looked up. There was nothing there...
Hang on - It was some sort of aircraft. Its optic camouflage couldn't hide the vents of it's vector-thrust jet engines, blasting against the pavement.
The gangers noticed it too.
An Ork Lobbed a molotov cocktail - It shattered, setting a large part of the landed craft ablaze - The optic camouflage failed instantly.
"GET DA NEW GUYS!" The Troll boss roared, pausing from headbutting Tank repeatedly.
The injured Dwarf picked up one of his machinepistols - He and three other gangers let rip at the aeroplane, cutting down the first man who stepped out with a hail of autofire...
Eva was winged, and took cover inside the 'plane, thinking this wasn't such a good idea...
Mary saw her - Eva, the woman who'd attacked them in Geneva...
Silvia quickly climbed on top of the van, and after a quick glide-jump she landed on the troll's neck.
"Let's see if that troll skin of yours is stronger than a dragon claw!"
She pushed her razor sharp claws into the troll's neck. The Troll roared in pain and dropped his gun.
"Now, Tank!" Silvia yelled. She knew her small claws couldn't go deep enough to hit anything vital in the big Troll's neck.
While the troll was trying to grab Silvia, Tank got up and punched him in the face.
Silvia pushed her claw into the Troll's shoulder and jumped down again, leaving four deep cuts in the trolls arm.
The Troll roared in pain. But that pain was only just about to begin. Hurricane had fended off the other attackers and poined her staff at the Troll.
"Demon, Tank, spread!".
Silvia quickly jumped aside, pulling Tank with her.
A bolt of lightning blasted out of the staff. The huge troll was blown a few meters back, onto his bike. The bike exploded in the lightning bolt, blowing the Troll towards the van again.
Slowly, the huge beast got up again. Severely wounded, but not dead yet.
And very angry.
"Got any problems?" Eva yelled, while setting up the weaponry. These frag bikers could not handle a Hellfire missile.
The copilot, a 2 meter tall ork, jumped out of the cockpit wearing a minigun and a massive Sword. He drew the sword, daring anyone closer.
"Begone Scum!" said the ork, with no pronounciation mistakes.
The others tried to fire at him, but he was darn too agile. Eventually, the ork used the chaingun, and several of the bikers retreated.
"Now, big guy, let's dance!" said while putting out the sword and heading towards the troll.
"GET THE MAGIC BITCH!" The Troll roared. He threw the wreckage of his massiver bike - it thudded heavily into the van, catching Hurricane's leg. Without breaking a stride, he brought both his massive fists down on Silvia's back. There was a loud crack - Silvia was pounded to the floor. Fearing her back was broken. She could hardly breathe.
"SILVIA!!!" Mary Screamed.
The Troll brought his sword out again on a massive upswing - Then he looked around at the start of motorcycle engines.
The seven or so surviving Hellhounds were back on their bikes.
"Hit and run you said!" The Girl with the missing hand screamed like a wild cat. "You cost me MY FRAGGING HAND!" She clung to the sidecar as the Hellhounds tore off - leaving only the Troll and his Dwarf accomplice.
Raven fired one last shot off with his gold-lated sidear, The heavy round hit an Ork rider in the back - But didn't knock stop him. Raven grunted with distatste.
"We...WE SURRENDER!" The Dwarf squealed, with nowhere to go...
The Troll, however, wasn't finished yet...He howled in rage again.
Silvia recovered - Her back wasn't broken - But she had definitley lost some ribs, and was close to unconsiousness.
Badjimmy was losing blood profusely. The Binman walked up to him.
"I'd get some Meta-TCP for that if I were you mate."
"And where were you when we needed you?" Badjimmy scowled.
The Binman laughed at him, a deep belly chuckle. He prodded Badjimmy - Who promptedly collapse from blood loss, claret still pumping from his neatly sliced hand.
Ery was speeding in his hovercar, trying to make up for lost time.
"How did I let them get so far ahead?" He grumbled.
A light appeared in the distance.
"Wh-" Was all he ahd time to say.
Coming the wrong way, at over 100mph, one of the hellhounds bike and sidecars hit Ery's ACV head-on.
Ery's crash-foam defence system saved him instantly - The car was seriously damaged and knocked off the road.
The bike was in pieces over 100 feet of road, it's rider quite dead, and the girl that had been standing on the back, unsecured with only one hand to hold on with was nowhere to be seen...
Raven holstered the "Negotiator" with a smirk.
"Aint messin' wit me again."
Then he remembered the VTOL craft that had interrupted the bikers attack, and had no doubt saved the lives of him and his friends. Raven turned around to survey the scene.
That troll was still here, his sword held upright in the air as he watched his fellow bikers disappear into the distance. His defiant bellow trailing off as he focused his attention upon the prone Silvia.
He advanced in slow, sluggish footsteps. A murderous glint in his usually dull troll eyes. He could smell the blood, he could see his prey was weakened. All that was left was the 'Coup de grace', although in Trollish it was more like 'Killin' Hit'. Raven pulled out his pistol again, hastily lined up a shot and pulled the trigger.
'Click click click' !! Out of FRAGGING ammo!
Raven dropped the weapon and looked on helplessly.
Ery groaned and stood up from his seat. One of his four passengers opened the car door in time for a bullet to roar in the forehead, dropping him like a stone. Ery jumped out the opposite side with the other Elf companions, all pulling out there guns. Two bulky Trolls appeared to the left started firing torrents of bullets from SMGs into the side of the Hovercar. A second Elf went down, riddled with bullets, his answering shot bringing down a Troll as well. The remaining Troll lobbed a grenade at the car. The roof literally separated from the chassis in a fiery ball and landed, crushing Ery's leg and pinning it to the ground. The Troll lumbered over grinning at him on the ground. He looked stunned when the poison bramble rose from the Earth and stung him in the leg. He still looked stunned when it's lethal poison felled him swiftly. Ery groaned again and tried to move his leg. He couldn't. His companions were off looking for the girl and had missed the Troll entirely, which wasn't easy to do.
He heard a scream and watched an Elf's arm separate from his body. Unfortunately, it was his gun arm. The Elf's head rapidly followed the arm in a spray of blood and with a flick of her wrist, the Monowire was back under the control of the girl. She started towards Ery and was thrown back as she was peppered by a burst from a AET Rifle. The remaining Elf climbed over the wreckage of the Hovercar to help Ery up. They walked back onto the road and looked at the carnage left behind.
Zizz had woken briefly from his minor concussion, muttering something about obsessed fans. From what dregs of conversation the others could dig out of him, the athlete had been chased earlier in the day by a woman he had nicknamed "Bitch". He had gotten away with only minor scrapes, before proceeding to try out the stunt at the biodomes... and finally ending up in Crystal's lap.
It sounded like a barrel of horse poop, but Chance reckoned that Zizz was just about weird enough to fit all of that in a single morning.
Walking back to the car, his wristphone rang. He raised his arm to answer it, before he noticed the identity of the person calling... Mary. Motioning urgently for the others to gather around, he received the call.
Mary was feeling rather sick... Her mission to Orkistonia had disintegrated into a bloody mess just a few miles out of Geneva. As Mary watched, Tank stood up, blood pouring out of his nose as the big orc roared his fury. Silvia lay crumpled at the troll ganger's feet... the bloodied troll was lining up his heavy barbed sword, ready to cleave his friend in two.
That something Tank couldn't allow. He snarled a powerful challenge, pounding on his armoured chest, daring the troll to engage him instead of his badly wounded friend... To fight like a real meta-man and not prey on the weak. The troll turned, his face bloodied and battered, but keen to crush his upstart that dared to challenge him. He hawked and spat, blood-stained drool splattering the pavement.
In the background, Behemoth advanced, his sword at the ready. The imposing Orc saw the gang troll standing near the fallen half-dragon, and immediately moved to protect her. He stood upright like a knight of old, raising his sword and pointing it at the troll's face in a silent, dignified challenge. The troll snarled in reply and gave Behemoth the finger.
Tank saw Behemoth move towards Silvia. In the midst of his battle fury and pain, and with his dear friend in danger, Tank wasn't going to let a stranger go near his friend! He snarled a warning, and Behemoth adjusted his position just in case Tank decided to attack him, while still keeping his eye on the troll.
The three giants advanced towards each other, each one the biggest, mightest fighters of their communities. It was a gathering of assault mechs, an arena of mammoth tanks, the very picture of thunderous battle.
And in the middle of them lay the broken form of Silvia, barely conscious and severly injured.
Mary took all of this in in one glance, suddenly realising that no matter what the outcome of the fight may be, her friends were in desperate straits...
She could see Raven, fumbling with his pistol as he struggled to reload it. She could see Hurricane, her fact contorted with pain from her pinned leg, her mind temorarily too clouded with agony to form a spell. Dorodo, who had broken free and was now hiding underneath the van. Badjimmy, who lay crumpled in a fetal position bleeding profusely. Binman, kneeling near him and putting pressure on the man's arm as he tried to stop the bleeding. Tank, facing off with two of the biggest metahumans she had ever seen. Eva, her face contorted in frustration as she realised that firing a Hellfire missile at such close range was going to kill them all.
Mary was a thinker, not a fighter. her response to all the chaos was simple... Her hand reached not for her gun, but for her wristphone. She speed-dialed Chance. His face appeared, with those of Crystal, Ash and Crash flanking him. Her friends.
Mary didn't respond, but flipped her wrist over instead to expose the lens of the camera. In one sweep, she took in the entire scene of battle and havoc, allowing the picture to speak for itself...
<- Page Two - Page Four ->
RPG: Index page
Den Games Network Forum