Re: Petty Squabble [ROUND 1] [Fort Ayers, New Atlantis]
05-21-2011, 08:07 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Pinary.
John had barely made it two steps from the office before his suit beeped at him. Swiftly, he brought the underside of his sleeve up to eye level, fixing his eyes on the small screen.
"Ooh, hello. A distress call? Now how- ahhh." Comprehension dawned as the screen explained. A damaged and disabled but still intact robot was, for one reason or another, transmitting paired audio and video. Right in front of it, someone had collapsed. They were now busily dragging themselves forward, evidently quite injured, and according to the suit, they'd screamed for help moments prior. A distress signal, by the definitions of the suit's programming, and a high-priority one at that.
John grinned. Before he could act on the signal, though, he heard shouts and gunshots from ahead. His grin widened, and with a chuckle, he started into a run.
-
Six and Nancy turned another corner, soldiers not far behind, and found another contestant, John Smith, coming towards them at a run. When he saw them, he slowed to a jog, then gestured to a door to one side. "Wait there," he mouthed, pointing insistently at it despite having no idea what was behind the door. He couldn't really read Six's face, and Nancy's was in a state of astonishment that didn't particularly seem related to his instruction. Reasonably satisfied, John didn't stop, just straightening his suit jacket and heading to meet the soldiers.
Seeing no particular reason not to obey, Six did as instructed, carrying Nancy along with him. This being- another contestant, he recognized- appeared to have knowledge that would be useful, as well as confidence in his tactics. Their situation could hardly be made worse, given that they were being chased by half a dozen armed soldiers, so there was nothing to really be lost by doing as he said.
-
John rounded the corner a dozen steps before the soldiers did, and had they been less well-trained, they'd probably have filled him with bullets. Fortunately for him, though, they were, and they held their fire long enough for him to start issuing orders with authority.
Authority, as many people know, can be obtained in several ways. Firstly, by looking the part- a person in ragged clothing and mismatched shoes isn't going to seem nearly as authoritative as someone in a military uniform or sharp suit. Secondly, authority can be gained by acting the part- if someone is obviously comfortable and used to being in charge, then it's a fair bet they are actually in charge of something. Thirdly, authority can be gained by genuinely deserving it- earning it through rank or something like that. That's often the easiest way and not terribly fun at all.
"Time is of the essence," John said, closing the gap between himself and the soldiers and coming to a stop just a few paces away. "There's a wounded informant out there, and we need him in here, alive. He's got top-clearance access codes, I've cleared them, don't worry, just hurry up and find him!"
"Sir, who-"
"Black hair, about five foot eight, casual military-wear; cargo pants, short sleeves, grey and black."
"What about-"
"You need to hurry. I'll take care of these two, just get out there and find him." They stared at him for a moment, but when he added a "Hustle!" and turned back to what was ostensibly his own mission, they headed off, double time, back the way they came.
John took a step or two back towards the intersection, then stopped, thinking. It didn't take long for him to make a decision, and he pulled the stolen pistol from his back waistband and fired off two shots at the retreating guards. They whirled (all but one doing so in shock, the other doing so as he fell, bleeding from a wound in his shoulder), and John added a completely mad cackle to make sure they thought of him as a threat, then dashed back the way he'd come.
-
Parsley was beginning to lose the trail when he heard the shots. He'd taken the two flights of stairs up, taken a brief look at the office, then taken the direction indicated by a bloody footprint that looked like it might well have been deliberate. Just a short ways down the hall, the sounds of gunfire started, along with running boots. He turned a corner just in time to see a figure move out of sight past the next one.
He was about halfway down the hall, voices starting to resolve themselves, when the boots started again, then were joined by a pair of gunshots. Not a second later, a man tore into view around the corner, heading towards him and cackling like a maniac.
"John Smith," Parsley remembered, "a bit of a nutcase."
John had barely made it two steps from the office before his suit beeped at him. Swiftly, he brought the underside of his sleeve up to eye level, fixing his eyes on the small screen.
"Ooh, hello. A distress call? Now how- ahhh." Comprehension dawned as the screen explained. A damaged and disabled but still intact robot was, for one reason or another, transmitting paired audio and video. Right in front of it, someone had collapsed. They were now busily dragging themselves forward, evidently quite injured, and according to the suit, they'd screamed for help moments prior. A distress signal, by the definitions of the suit's programming, and a high-priority one at that.
John grinned. Before he could act on the signal, though, he heard shouts and gunshots from ahead. His grin widened, and with a chuckle, he started into a run.
-
Six and Nancy turned another corner, soldiers not far behind, and found another contestant, John Smith, coming towards them at a run. When he saw them, he slowed to a jog, then gestured to a door to one side. "Wait there," he mouthed, pointing insistently at it despite having no idea what was behind the door. He couldn't really read Six's face, and Nancy's was in a state of astonishment that didn't particularly seem related to his instruction. Reasonably satisfied, John didn't stop, just straightening his suit jacket and heading to meet the soldiers.
Seeing no particular reason not to obey, Six did as instructed, carrying Nancy along with him. This being- another contestant, he recognized- appeared to have knowledge that would be useful, as well as confidence in his tactics. Their situation could hardly be made worse, given that they were being chased by half a dozen armed soldiers, so there was nothing to really be lost by doing as he said.
-
John rounded the corner a dozen steps before the soldiers did, and had they been less well-trained, they'd probably have filled him with bullets. Fortunately for him, though, they were, and they held their fire long enough for him to start issuing orders with authority.
Authority, as many people know, can be obtained in several ways. Firstly, by looking the part- a person in ragged clothing and mismatched shoes isn't going to seem nearly as authoritative as someone in a military uniform or sharp suit. Secondly, authority can be gained by acting the part- if someone is obviously comfortable and used to being in charge, then it's a fair bet they are actually in charge of something. Thirdly, authority can be gained by genuinely deserving it- earning it through rank or something like that. That's often the easiest way and not terribly fun at all.
"Time is of the essence," John said, closing the gap between himself and the soldiers and coming to a stop just a few paces away. "There's a wounded informant out there, and we need him in here, alive. He's got top-clearance access codes, I've cleared them, don't worry, just hurry up and find him!"
"Sir, who-"
"Black hair, about five foot eight, casual military-wear; cargo pants, short sleeves, grey and black."
"What about-"
"You need to hurry. I'll take care of these two, just get out there and find him." They stared at him for a moment, but when he added a "Hustle!" and turned back to what was ostensibly his own mission, they headed off, double time, back the way they came.
John took a step or two back towards the intersection, then stopped, thinking. It didn't take long for him to make a decision, and he pulled the stolen pistol from his back waistband and fired off two shots at the retreating guards. They whirled (all but one doing so in shock, the other doing so as he fell, bleeding from a wound in his shoulder), and John added a completely mad cackle to make sure they thought of him as a threat, then dashed back the way he'd come.
-
Parsley was beginning to lose the trail when he heard the shots. He'd taken the two flights of stairs up, taken a brief look at the office, then taken the direction indicated by a bloody footprint that looked like it might well have been deliberate. Just a short ways down the hall, the sounds of gunfire started, along with running boots. He turned a corner just in time to see a figure move out of sight past the next one.
He was about halfway down the hall, voices starting to resolve themselves, when the boots started again, then were joined by a pair of gunshots. Not a second later, a man tore into view around the corner, heading towards him and cackling like a maniac.
"John Smith," Parsley remembered, "a bit of a nutcase."