Do you dare enter the serpents' lair? The howls serenading all within the vicinity turned heads, men pay the price for a gamble and it looked as if the thugs were losing. All the fire and fury unleashed, albeit hurriedly doused in vomit. Nevertheless, the blood soaked streets can never seem to be washed clean, the same can be said for their palms. Don't you know? s**t rolls down hill, a lot like the dumpster that thunderstruck thugs to and fro, many of which splayed out in guttural moans.
Duckie doesn't quite hear the brontide of fiery wrath unbridled by Koga, although filtration doesn't pick up the articulation, the speech drifts given a short distance. It isn't the only one, on the contrary, carnality's mouthpiece speaks in sultry undertones that chill bones, excites flesh to rapture and travels with the haste of a glacier down to Hades, where sin doth dwell like that of a fervent maiden kneeling to the might of her king.
Everything spins harshly, a violent vortex heaving her into a downward spiral to the ground. She screams, panicked and too inebriated to realize the full-scale calamity. Rough-hewn fingers grip her but not before her leg lands on the sharpened threshold of a thug's Air Treks. Sharp and bladed deathtraps! The wire bit into limbs given the struggle, keenly springing ruddy lines to sun-kissed pallor. Pain ripples through her, whimpers and curses spew forth.
"Heyyy... Tssss... I needa--"Help! Jolted like a rag-doll as bounding musculature clashes with that of mediocrity, she can only attempt to hold on, eyne shut tightly and the bubbling brook of blood slithers down her ATs.
Rolling hunk of alloy and refuse knocks down one after another akin to bowling pins. The last thug felled by alloyed rim marked a spare, scorewise. Consistently, the air around him is being gathered throughout the fight; greedily hoarded and taken for himself to use when he saw fit. It was consistent; an unrelenting drain.
If you're a cop, shoot 'em or something!
Was this kid serious? Some gratitude would have been nice. Then again, being an officer of the law implied doing his job regardless of the distressed party's disposition.
"Off duty; thought the civvies'd make it obvious. So 'or something' is what i'm currently workin' on; now shut up and let me do my job, kid. I don't come into Micky Dees and tell you how to flip ya NGGH--BURGERS!"
The last of the sentence is strained as warrior fights with his shield arm, tied up and adorable dead weight occupying the other. Another thug is felled by a full on bash with the lid's broad flat that would break his nose; but there were still far too many left to be felled in this manner. It'd take too long; get too sloppy. Innocent lives were at stake here. As if to remind the law's hand of this fact, some of precious cargo's hot and ruddy ichor trails down bulging boulder of a bicep. Keeping bound comrade in the fight was reckless; a rookie mistake that Hyde couldn't continue. It'd only hinder him, and get them both hurt in the end.
Setting Beni down behind the relative safety of the blood soaked dumpster which had stopped it's murderous rampage, apologetic smile paired with intentionally shuttering halcyon lid hinting towards ever present suave undertones as he takes off back into the fight. Shameless as always; even in the face of imminent peril. "Sorry Duck. Be back before ya have a chance to miss me!"
Called out as the distance between them grows, he scoops up one discarded crystalline bottle; and then another. And so on. A total of four collected. He may not have been much one for aerials, but today this sky borne potato was going to display some impressive maneuverability. Musclebound columns piston him into a heavenbound surge, carrying hulking figure into the air above the angry mob of criminals with impressive speed.
He drops one bottle once enough height is gained. Releasing a burst of air from his skates when it is directly under his feer that shatters the fragile casing into dozens of deadly shards, the miniature meteor shower is sent hurtling down towards writhing crowd of bodies with velocity aided by a combination of expelled wind and gravity. Hyde didn't need a gun; not when he could use the brittle remains of beer as an impromptu shotgun. It may have had far less stopping power, but the method would do for a pinch like this.
The blast of wind additionally sends him jettisoning in the opposite direction, riding upon the back of a tailwind to reposition himself; diagonally to the right before performing the exact same attack and moving directly forward; still too far out of reach for anybody to pose a serious threat as justiciar rains down hell upon those judged; found guilty and sentenced to execution.
Bulky mass of roughly hewn granite eventually descends; if only to reload the 'magazine' he'd just emptied. He could do this until they were either subdued or dispersed, theoretically. With the superior range, widespread area of effect, and high mobility that offered constant repositioning, it would make short work of any bold enough to continue fighting.
Deecee Sama
ccuppajo
Noble Negative J3T
Rolling for elimination count. 12 + 4 = 16 eliminated]
TRICKS: -→ {Rising Action Kick l D} [used four times] -------► A beginning rider of the Over Road starts with the basic understanding of the 'Windmill Theory', making use of it in a very simple way. The basic circulation of wind during movement in a run is focused at the ATs, being ventilated before a 'thrusting' release from both ATs at once. This apparent 'boost' to the user is actually an offensive type trick, giving the user a compressed physical impact depending on the amount of wind gathered before the missile-like impact is made. If performed inside of a tailwind, the user can actually change direction to follow any curve or invert at an increased rate. This initially appears to be riding on air but is so brief and short-lived that it's obvious the user has no extended flight time. This is a D Class trick.
-----
Ya boi raz
Offline
Deecee Sama generated a random number between
1 and 10 ...
2!
The world was spinning on its axis and wasn't gonna stop anytime soon. Drafted to the tee, the spring stepped Koga had came to a sudden halt. Finally releasing the remains of his stomach out fully, his body rose up with a sad expression. God, he felt so much better, but. . "Beni! Beni you-" Eyes struck to refuge and anger brimmed ever longer. Beni. . Beni was bleeding. She was hurt! What in the ******** was this cop doing?! "B-Beni! Beni are you ok-" WHAM! Caught off guard by a righteous left hook, he was sent barreling to the floor. Head rattling as he laid there for a moment; breathing short as digits gripped fiber. They'd hurt her! These bastards, how could they?! Finally when he had to chance to enjoy himself! Finally, something went right and then, because of them. .
It was all THEIR fault.
Boiling, slowly he rose again. True to his anguish, Koga's eyes sparked back to life as crimson dripped down from brow. Furrowed brow as knuckle touched knuckle, fists slamming together while staring to them all. An overshadow coming again; much larger, much louder. The beast roaming within unleashed with a resounding stomp, fire sputtering to life and littering the vicinity. The obvious mixture of twin flame igniting not only on the field, but in his heart. Burning away all the emotion, young Koga had never felt like this before. "All my life I've played the wall. I left everyone push me around. I let the girl I love slip through my hands, but no. not anymore. I refuse to be the weakling who just watches!" Explosion! Pyre took to the heel, illusion or real? The intensity so strong it would melt any who dared stave into his path. For a moment he'd appear, solid, then the next he was gone from view. Zipping in and out of reality at a pace unheard of, executing as many blows as he possibly could in as little time possible.
Impact. Impact! Impact!! Impact!! After his onslaught Koga appeared directly in front of Mouthboy again, the shimmer in his eyes beaming as leg began to shoot up, only to suddenly shift on his axis, moving about to impact the chest. Gleaming with rage, he'd speak. "******** YOU!"
Surreal. The entire scene unfolding within seconds was without a doubt, surreal.
What began as a brontide of laughter, soon dissipated at the un-expectancy of a call. The ringtone itself raising a brow but Monte says nothing, he's important, his calls usually even more so being a Major General, let alone also an ATP officer. Similar to her own standing as an Airman and Rookie. This is what training had prepared her for, and yet, bodies flying, shrapnel, this pyrotechnics, and the howling winds of flapping maws became a symphony of destruction. Monte wouldn't enter the fray but instead opted to get the civilians gawking and taking SnapDats back, further away from the scuffle.
From the car she sprang, shutting the door quietly with her holstered to her side and the field kit in hand. She easily maneuvers through the crowd. At the forefront of the denizens, she ushers them back: "Come on people, get back. No one wants to lose an eye or worse, this is an ongoing crime scene! Please, ma'am, stand back!"
Innovative thought utilizes the kit, procuring the tape from its secured lodgings and begins to tape off the area.
"Please stay behind the line! Again, please stay behind the line."
She finishes without venturing too far into the spectacle, eyne spy Hyde with a fiery redhead in hand so Monte continues on, the work wasn't done yet. Several of the outer laying thugs needed medical treatment. Digits slink into the kit once it's set beside a slumbering fool of a goon. "Dispatch this is Bravo Golf Fiver Whiskey requesting medical assistance at the Asakusa Carnevale, please be aware hostiles are at large."
Her right maintains a grip on the two-way radio, but her free hand checks the thug's pulse, finding it thriving finely. Holstering the device, she beings the process of zap strapping his hands before she scoops up the field bag and moves onto the next one, all the while she takes into account of their injuries prior to securing them.
In an instant, she hears the boom of glass shattering in the distance, canting visage to see some teenager rushing to the other side of the dumpster. "Hey, Kid! Are you---?!" Observance of fast dashes, pivoting form ebbs to and fro, knocking down more thugs, some of which already dazed and down for the count. Monte sighs, shaking her head. Back to the task of rounding 'em up.
The thing about life. Sometimes, chances take too long to realize. Sometimes, mistakes occur that are too fatal to be contained. Watching over this, he had seen enough. It was time to get his hands dirty. Nothing of value was good here. He was going to handle mouthboy, but that was going to be handled it seem .Someone was either going to beat him up or arrest him. There was no reason to kill mouthboy. He was kept on a long leash because he was told anything. He only knew so much, but it was not anything worth the police involvement. His lap rested with a device. The recorded message already looked upon. So, something big was going on and he wanted in on it. Why would a tournament even be created? Could a wish really be granted? COULD IT! He didn't believe in magic or Gods. He believed in facts. He believed, it was time for these kids to realize these games were not meant to be played. Air treks were more than just a sport. There are far more things one could lose besides their treks, their team, their emblem. Even their pride can come back. A slow drag was taken from the methols. A whole pack gone out of anger from watching such idiots muck up the Serpents name. No, he wanted to do this himself. The Harry Potter Symphony had went off. The melodic sounds being replaced to a more studio production song. "Glitter" by 070 Shake. "This glitter. All around your body. All Around your body." he would sing as the car turned onto the street, passing by at reckless pace before coming up to the alleyway. The alleyway Duckie was still at near the dumpster. The glock resting on his lap. Black with serpant on the frame painted so elegantly. The tongue slithering down to the chamber. Pulling up by the alley way, the window rolled down. If Duckie didn't call in and was a snitch, the man wouldn't of cared. If Koga beat them up, he would of just let it be. He would of probably rewarded them. However, some mistakes. Some mistakes can't be taken back. His shots in time with the chorus, but it wasn't glitter that he was going to be giving Duckie. It was going to be this Glizzy and it wasn't shy either. This glizzy, all around your body. (This Glizzy) All around your body"CLICK-CLACK! How many seconds. How many seconds, does it take to lose everything?
KAT KAT KAT KAT KAT!!
The resounding shots from the gun was like a glass bottle breaking against the pavement; loud and gut-wrenching. You knew nothing good could come of it. The car crept forward more, a few shots ranged out towards Captain America. Upper in aim but he was compensating for something. He wasn't sure. Maybe, he wasn't trying aim for the legs? Maybe he wanted them stay useful? It didn't matter. The barrel would then be pointed towards Koga direction. A shot rang out, but the bullet heading straight for Mouthboy. No way for it to hit Koga. Why mouthboy if there was no point? The man hated waste. Why waste a full clip? As the car finally speeding off, the horsepower on full display of the Escalade. The care fine tuned to have more power and more speed than it's stock version. The loud music of 070 Shakes the final memory being left behind of them. The second verse, asking the true questions one may want to know. The only consolation. Free C rank treks. Some money from the thugs. Things that were replaceable. Was not-cooperating worth the end result? See, no one thinks about that during the time. They only think in the moment and the possible gains. Not the losses.
When I did lose it? My friend Tell my friend, my friend, my friend When I did lose it, lose it again? I've been drinkin' lots to forget about the news I know when I sober up I'll have to pay my dues
ccuppajo
Deecee Sama
Ya boi raz
Posted: Mon Mar 25, 2019 5:38 pm
Happy, golden days. The first foretaste of life was mysterious and alluring, and it was so sweet to get glimpses of it.
The air is crackling with what remnants of tension still linger around them; she sits, bound by wrist and leg alike, too gripping as wire cinches. She's safe here, perched with the dumpster at her back. Whimpers resound, utterance muted in the chaos of it all but she tells the burly hero to be careful. Hardly considerable given the circumstance! Eyne swerve, too panicked and dilated to realize Koga has found her. Koga?!"Koga! Help-- Untie me, please! I can't get-- KOGA?!"
THWACK!
She jolts, inching the steel mechanism back. It's like the silence after a shout, there's desperation set in the furrow of her brow, hovering in emerald irises; the way faces of porcelain dolls are painted. A testament to their permanence is frustration and perfect cracks at the edges in an instant. Yet, he's up, enraged and exacting vengeance in fiery fury that rivals a forest fire. He's off, flying, how far does Icarus go before it's too high? She bites her tongue, and holds her breath, and waits for the echo of her heartbeat to drown out the noise. Whirling chrome filters into dazed and confused view, Duckie blinks back brimming tears and finds an onlooking face; familiar, she thinks.
Everything slows.
A thrumming shrill of her heart.
An inhale, an exhale.
What do you say when staring up at a loaded gun?
Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Fight or flight wasn't cut and dried.
The first shot reels, pain quakes her. Blubbering blood spat from trembling lips, there's no plea, only a sickening gurgle. The rapid stream of bullets simultaneously onset shock, leaving rivulets of ichor to pool beneath her hurriedly. Too fast, it's all too fast. Her mind stumbles and sputters; she chokes, gasping, clawing at her own hole-riddled chest to no avail. "Ko--..." Dainty wrists drop, limply laying to rest.
Pallor pallid and eerily still, she stares off, long lost. Gone.
For one who walks the road of temporal defiance, not even he bears the ability to stop what comes next. Not when everything in existence seems to screech to a halt; flashing chrome muzzle drying the saliva in his mouth as angles, aim, and position of orphan duckling are all processed and calculated with lightning fast efficiency. A rising urgency wells within chest as cybernetically enhanced musculoskeletal system strains at maximum output in an attempt to close an impossible distance; circular steel plate held in front of him to protect face and chest.
He's fast, but not faster than a bullet. The first round tears through flank covered in gray cotton. Twice do deadly projectiles ricochet off of alloyed bastion, before final shot sent whizzing his way tears through right bicep. Mountainous physique drops into a baseball slide, covering the remaining distance as the exact image that mental train had conjured up for a worst case scenario finally pans into view.
Red. It was everywhere. The atrocious color flooded swimming vision, caked tattooed skin, even stained tattered clothing with a disgusting amount of it as limp and lifeless form is pulled close to chest. Hyperion remained blissfully unaware of personal injuries, focus fastened upon the critical situation at hand. "Hey, stay with me doll. We're gonna get you help right now. We're gonna-- Damn it... ********> Final curse choked past closing throat as horror in those enormous green eyes gradually died out, innocence snuffed and replaced by glassy absence by a single sick and cruel whim.
Coupled digitus respectfully close lids that could no longer perform the action on their own after one final parting glance, impervious walls of confident discipline erode; crumble in the moment. Protocol forgotten, tossed to the winds. He'd seen people die before; countless times. It came with the territory of being a serviceman for so long. But this... This wasn't war. This was different. The victim... A dear friend. Family nearly, in the short time they'd been acquainted. It made this gut wrenching sensation personal; debilitating nearly. He could've done more.
Unsteady grasp removes cell phone from his pocket, attempt made to hastily unlock it. Medical assistance and back up would be a godsend... However, sanguine stained fingertips cause fingerprint scanning lock to malfunction; denying it's user access altogether several times. A wordless shout rips from raw throat to portray frustrations as the device is flung far, far away; no doubt shattering as it clatters against the ground.
Deecee Sama
ccuppajo
RIP TO THE LITTLEST DUCKLING. SHE SHALL BE FOREVER REMEMBERED X.X
You never know when your time is up. You never know, when everything will come crashing down around you. And you'll never be ready for it, because that's just how life works.
Life is cruel like that.
He was done. Finally, the last of them had been put down and lazily Koga fell to the ground with a sigh. There. Hopefully Beni was alright and this Captain America guy too. "I don't feel like total s**t anymore, which is good. Finally we ca-"
TACK! TACK! TACK! TACK!
W-What was that?
Maybe it was the fact that he was in shook. Maybe it was the alcohol dulling his senses or maybe, maybe Koga didn't want to believe it. He'd seen this kind of thing on TV, but never in person. The sight of blood leaking to the floor from the downed Mouthboy. The shots having rung all throughout the area, in more places than one. Briefly he stopped moving completely -- not able to register what had just occurred. Oh, but it had. It definitely happened and without a shadow of a doubt, what he saw wasn't some farce. It was completely real. Crimson to his Treks as he turned slowly to eye the sight; the slow fall of a tear to a body being clutched. He'd stare. Eyes reminiscent of dinner plates at just how wide they were. Salt staining the line of his cheek, then, to the chin and over more to the feeling inside. Pain riddled him and his heart ripped from his chest.
Beni was. .
"B-Beni?! BENI?!" No no no no no no no no! Hyperventilation. Anxiety. Fear. Through the brain. Through the soul. Emotions rampant as he just sat there in awe and pure shock. One night. That was all it took for him to have everything taken away. Why? Was it because he'd fought? But he was doing it to protect her. Was it because he didn't fight fast enough? Was he not good enough? Not strong enough? Was it. . Was it. .
He didn't know. He just felt pain.
". . ." The subtle tears that continuously ran down his cheek. The blood that lined his face from the strike earlier; he couldn't feel any of it. Flashed hues closed in angst as fist balled. Marred temperament -- rage and so much more building. This was all his fault. He should've stayed with her. He should've protected her himself! Why did he trust someone else to do it?! Why?! "Beni. . I'm sorry. ." Without realizing it, there he stood. Over them as Hyde shrieked. As the sirens blared with ATP showing the scene and people coming to talk to him, but he couldn't even speak anymore. He just sat there staring.
Rigidity turns to steel as gunshots resound, palpable paranoia wafts, the growing sense of disgust blooming in constructed throat. Nausea-bit, lungs curled along fear-wrought bile rising. Something triggers her to suck her stomach in and breathe from her nose; insides twine around the cage of her ribs. Too skinny, or not small enough. Surveillance shifts to the vehicle and instantly she clutches her phone, thumb-brushed button swipes up and pads the camera button. A video captures the car's travel prior to it speeding off into the distance. In this day and age, committing a crime without it being caught was nigh unmanageable.
"Son of a b***h," she spats. The rest, she thinks. HYDE?! Countenance perks up, pink tresses wavering to and fro as she spies seated figure hunched over something, someone. Guttural utterances quake the tension impregnated loci. She hoists one thug up after sheathing her phone, his hands bound tightly twice and she hauls him toward the approaching ATP transport truck. The doors open toward her, and two officers usher the man inside. It goes like this in a successful succession of the others arrested, and in the distance, the blaring lights of medical personnel signal their arrival.
Monte sighs warily, scooping up the field kit once more before silently ascending upon the two males and a victim. Koga—disturbed by the buck of withered anatomy, weak, empty boned—falls to the ground. No utterances would relieve the horrors festering in mauve behind eyelids. She instead kneels beside him, a heavy groan excavated from the slash of her scowled mouth; bent and wrought in annoyance, she gives unto him a curt nod that goes unnoticed.
"Hey, Kid," whispers coo, gloved hand tracing features, hovering over physique to check for gunshots and shrapnel, she finds none but slight abrasions and matted vomit-splatter that reeked of alcohol. "Here. Let's keep you warm." Digits ram into the bottom of the black bag, pilfering the fire retardant blanket that was instantly whipped out and encompassing the young man, couldn't be any older than her. Maybe a year, introspection interjects.
Standing, palm outstretches to wave the paramedic closer. "Got one over here.... No significant injuries, probably dehydrated and definitely in shock."Who wouldn't be? The women nods, tending meticulously to Koga so he may be questioned.
"Can I get a stretcher here? For...Yeah.... Thanks." Clicking her tongue faintly—precariously—to a revelation that has never left her mind. Pivoting boots grind grime and grit underfoot, she perches beside Hyde. Visage doesn't dare meet his hallowed perception, instead, she swallows hard, clearing her throat as the same inspection commences. He had two bullet wounds, that she can perceive.
"Come on, big guy. You gotta let her go." Half a choke, half a lull.
Tragedy-struck, he doesn't budge. Pressing lips in a line, she opts to keep the babbling brook of lifeblood from flowing further. Not a single damn bandage in the satchel would work, like what in the ******** would a band-aid do for a bullet wound? "Tch." Monte hisses, though thankfully she came prepared; bleeding was no surprise to most persons with a uterus. Two tampons produced, their mint green wrappings crammed into her own bag and the absorbent plug; inserted into the ruddy cavity to absorb exuded fluids. One, then the other.
"Hyde... Hyde... Let go. They have to take her away."
Manually palm swivels his stricken facade, gently but firmly.
"We gotta get you cleaned up; you're bleeding."
Icy irises do not falter, they bore holes into pinpoint pupils gutted and deprived a soul. Her hand falls, easing his grip steadily and in care of the body. Time trickles by but eventually, the redhead's figure is left in the hands of those qualified to handle it. Flashes shutter repeatedly, the entire scenery captured. The petite figure was then slipped into the plastique trappings, pronounced dead then and there. Question answered and evidence taken, fast forward to the presently harrowing scene.
Clutching the canvas handles of the kit, she lays a hand on Hyde's bloodied bicep. "You need to go to the hospital. There's the ambulance... or I can drive you if you'd like?"
Hyperion was a bloody and hunched over mess by the time flashing strobes and urgent cries signal emergency unit's crisis response finally arriving; cavalry comes a day late and dollar short. Typical.
Yet none of it reaches him. Sensory deprived, hollowed out shell felt so empty that the fact an errant breeze hadn't blown him away was nothing short of a miracle. Endless ringing strikes eardrums pounding in tune with fever pulse. Lifeless curvity cradled like a broken bird, it was a soft, almost imperceptible rock back and forth; only noticeable if one stops to watch long enough.
Somebody eventually does, familiar face framed in pink silk goes unnoticed; words unheeded, though not intentionally. Nay, he was just... disconnected. Drowning. Deeper and deeper into melancholic folds until... a touch viciously yanks him back to the surface of reality. It was a rough sensation despite gentle assertion; brutal even. But it was one Hyde desperately needed in that moment. The sinking stopped. He was now barely treading water, hardly even afloat... but no longer submerged in despair. Impromptu ministrations take care in staunching sanguine flow, though he is silent still.
Gazes meet with insistent prodding, his expression? Torn. Barely present, a million miles away. Nevertheless, obedience eventually does come. Unwavering opposite's visage implores him, it was something that had to be done. He'd been in Monte's shoes several times before, after all.
"I... yeah. She--... she's gone."
Response was moreso a self given affirmation; an insufficient attempt to close situation's case. Heavy and long inhalation taken to steel himself, final kiss is planted upon stilled brow beneath bangs of roiling wildfire; lain out upon the pavement delicately. As if she were made of glass. Accepting helping hand in rising to full height, they'd move away and allow forensics to get to work.
You need to go to the hospital. There's the ambulance... or I can drive you if you'd like?
"Monte... I really can't right now. The people, the questions, the poking and prodding. Can you... just take me home? Please?"
Of course, Hyde could drive himself. But he just felt... drained, and exhausted. The simple task sounded like monumental strain.
: A gang that resides in the Kansai region. Due to the popularity of A-T they have decided to use air treks for their own good. While officially a Team under the names of their leaders, they possess More than enough territory for an increase in Team Ranking, but care nothing about storm riding. Their territory has never been reported to the BBS system but everyone has talked around town knowing that they are in charge of the area. They tend not to do battles and those who challenge them end up getting brutally beaten or jumped. These are like the skull saders, but way more competent and deadly.
Post: Congrat's first gang down >W> Mouthboy was an A rank leader. even though he not big boss man. we still give it to you all. so 20SP for gang fight over. + A Rank victory. The ATP stuff. Believe cup has that handled on how much ap and such (do to some system tweaks.) Good scene >w> interesting see how this goes.
