RE: One Round Only: The
05-08-2017, 05:33 AM
Magnus spots the robot as his first liftload of raiders goes "ding" at the top. He's completely unruffled by this because giant monsters attack his city like, all the damn time. There's contingencies for shit like this.
Some of the raiders scream, because it's not a giant killer robot attack without a good background of cries of fear and distress. They quit it after a hot minute because screaming's damn tiring on a hot desert day. Magnus ties his sweater around his head to keep the sun off, not giving much of a shit about stretching the sleeves cuz he can't use them anyway. Dude's got wings.
He says to the raider with the sickest decals on his bike, the leader, "Hey so, you guys solemnly swear to like, steal the product you need and head off back into the sands after?"
"Aye, and to take good care of your meatbike if we find it," nods the crime dude. A couple of her compatriots have already climbed down into the cargo area, and were busting open crates with crowbars. Magnus catches a lobbed water bottle in one foot, and everyone applauds both him and the thrower seeing as that was like a 70-ft vertical height to clear. Good shit.
"Kicking rad," quoth the magpie, only to be cut off by a ferocious clang. Up ahead in the distance, he saw a shimmering fight - Grothok had scaled the robot -
the whining rock Johnson in tow - and caved in half its metal face. The entire vista wavered in the desert heat.
"A rad replete in kicks indeed," affirmed the raider chief. "Believe you me, bloodless theft from those with money enough to amass this much water is a much nicer state of affairs. Who'd think we enjoy terrorising craftsfolk and middlemen?"
"I would," says Magnus, struggling with the cap on the water bottle. "Enjoy freaking out some wage slaves, I mean. Like, yeah, stealing straight from a water tycoon is, lark, where it's super-hells-of-at, but when it's slim pickings and lean times you gotta make your own fun just to cope, yeah?"
The raider rescues Magnus' bottle, and holds it at a steady angle for Magnus' robot arms to twist it open. "Too true, my feathered friend, too true." She grabs another from the pile of supplies the other raiders are extracting from amidst the cargo, opens it, then clunks plastic bottles with the magpie. "Cheers. If you're not elsewhere imposed, I'd love to have you and your wings on hand the next time the train rolls through-"
????: "Hey! You! You raiders up there! And that bird!"
Magnus: "Aw beans"
Some of the raiders scream, because it's not a giant killer robot attack without a good background of cries of fear and distress. They quit it after a hot minute because screaming's damn tiring on a hot desert day. Magnus ties his sweater around his head to keep the sun off, not giving much of a shit about stretching the sleeves cuz he can't use them anyway. Dude's got wings.
He says to the raider with the sickest decals on his bike, the leader, "Hey so, you guys solemnly swear to like, steal the product you need and head off back into the sands after?"
"Aye, and to take good care of your meatbike if we find it," nods the crime dude. A couple of her compatriots have already climbed down into the cargo area, and were busting open crates with crowbars. Magnus catches a lobbed water bottle in one foot, and everyone applauds both him and the thrower seeing as that was like a 70-ft vertical height to clear. Good shit.
"Kicking rad," quoth the magpie, only to be cut off by a ferocious clang. Up ahead in the distance, he saw a shimmering fight - Grothok had scaled the robot -
the whining rock Johnson in tow - and caved in half its metal face. The entire vista wavered in the desert heat.
"A rad replete in kicks indeed," affirmed the raider chief. "Believe you me, bloodless theft from those with money enough to amass this much water is a much nicer state of affairs. Who'd think we enjoy terrorising craftsfolk and middlemen?"
"I would," says Magnus, struggling with the cap on the water bottle. "Enjoy freaking out some wage slaves, I mean. Like, yeah, stealing straight from a water tycoon is, lark, where it's super-hells-of-at, but when it's slim pickings and lean times you gotta make your own fun just to cope, yeah?"
The raider rescues Magnus' bottle, and holds it at a steady angle for Magnus' robot arms to twist it open. "Too true, my feathered friend, too true." She grabs another from the pile of supplies the other raiders are extracting from amidst the cargo, opens it, then clunks plastic bottles with the magpie. "Cheers. If you're not elsewhere imposed, I'd love to have you and your wings on hand the next time the train rolls through-"
????: "Hey! You! You raiders up there! And that bird!"
Magnus: "Aw beans"
peace to the unsung peace to the martyrs | i'm johnny rotten appleseed
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow