Re: Grand Battle S3G1! (Round Two: The Great Battlefield)
10-22-2011, 10:50 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
"Attention Tengeri, or whoever's in there!"
Jetsam, pinned to the wall, quit his ineffectual attempts to remove Hubert's hand from his throat. It was something of a betrayl, really - many lives of appreciating a nice wall to which you could keep your back, taken for granted until some jackass decided you'd best stay there until he was finished with you. Jetsam aimed another valiant kick at Huebert's midsection, only for his foot to fall short of the bastard's arm length.
There was a moment's contemplation - a moment's hardening resolve as the wanderer realised what a fucking stupid situation this was - before the weird laws of his particular predicament dawned on Jetsam. He clawed at Huebert's meaty clamp of a fist until the pressure on his throat relented, then glared upward.
"Kill me. You stupid, dumb brute."
Huebert was at least smart enough to see when someone was doing something catastrophically moronic, so just frowned at the soldier. Jetsam did his best to roll his eyes in exasperation, and pointedly yelled into the dark corner he'd kicked Scofflaw into.
"Tell your fucking dumb muscle it's win-win, if he can understand that kind of shit. If that tentacled boyfriend of his wasn't lying, then you guys are gone once I vanish, and I'll be rid of the lot-"
"Now just hang on," interjected Scofflaw, whose previously enjoyable prospect of picking bits of Jetsam's face off his bat was sullied by the fact the nutcase might appreciate it (his stint as the Kinkaiju had been a short one, and not just because animal-themed costumes were a terrible idea for everyone involved.) "you've got your own way out?"
"I just explained that," Jetsam finally managed to choke out, whose feet left the floor again around 'tentacled boyfriend'. "Hurry up and make this stinking gorilla lose his temper already, you can help him aim for my vit-"
To Scofflaw's surprise (he wouldn't have given Huebert that much credit), Jetsam didn't end up on floor less than a second after with a concave skull. "You're an idiot, Jetsam."
"You're uglier," retorted the wanderer. Scofflaw just sighed.
"Huebert's got no intention of killing you, no matter how hard you try to hurt his feelings. You're being so pigheadedly ignorant it's almost refreshing."
Jetsam just grinned, jabbing a thumb at Huebert. "You're uglier than the bitch who brought this fat fuck into the world."
"This is juvenile," sighed Scofflaw, again. Kerak seemed to have wrapped up his spiel outside, which left the three of them no choice but to surface. Jetsam's Red soldiers appeared to have fled the Trench at the first possible opportunity, swearing no fealty to a teal-clad lieutenant, and Scofflaw was already headed for the door. "Coming?"
Huebert glanced around for any sticks of furniture which Jetsam might wield, then somewhat reluctantly finished strangling him. The wanderer avoided having to decipher his situation by massaging his throat, then barked at a departing Huebert with a look of bewilderment.
"Get back here." When that didn't work, "get back here and kill me, you spineless fucking cowards!"
"I'm not going to pretend to understand what just happened," growled Huebert, rather deliberately ignoring a furious Jetsam.
"I'm trying," shrugged Scofflaw, palming one of his various gadgets from a pocket to inside his ear before Kerak's soldiers searched him. "But he's stubborn. And appears to unconditionally hate us for knowing what he doesn't."
"That's... pretty stupid." Hubert jabbed a disinterested thumb Jetsam-ward, as a pack of Chartreuse prowled round for more prisoners to root out. Scofflaw just nodded agreement.
---
Jetsam actually rather appreciated the Chartreuse troops' summary invasion of the Trench, and their forcibly escorting him out to stew amongst the other prisoners of war. It gave him time to sit on his frustrations without standing there looking dumbfounded. After one good blow to the jaw from an overenthusiastic soldier of Kerak's for screaming abuse, there was a decent reason to shut his face for a while, too.
The incumbent Red General spent the negotiations distributing his best glare between Scofflaw, Huebert, Kerak, and the sergeant that had punched him (The latter two paid him no real attention, which didn't improve Jetsam's opinion of them any). The company eventually dispersed, the soldiers marked for conversion hurried ahead to the edge of the nullifying field, while Jetsam and the others marked as prisoners were manhandled along later. The lieutenant, in teal, stumbled further than feasible from the knock a Chartreuse private had given him, bumping into the back of a disgruntled Red sergeant.
"Shift, herring, emption," muttered Jetsam, as per the instructions the Black Op had given him. "You're our Brigadier, second in command now. Get used to it."
In the shadows of the woods, Operative Trace - Representative of Her Majesty (Partition://Nodes3(caching available for further Nodes0-2)/Designation:Green) sighed to himself. Even Echo couldn't claim to be optimistic about their interloper, and it had gone without saying between the two Operatives that Null (this purported "Red General's" personal Op) would kill him at the first opportunity.
I mean, promoting your first rewired troop straight to Brigadier. Really?
The Operative kind of wished he smoked like his colleague Echo did, if only to keep his hands busy. He unslung a rifle from nowhere, attached a silencer, then without much fuss shot the Chartreuse soldier that had insisted on giving Jetsam so much grief clean through the head.
The Black Op grumbled quietly, flickering through the trees as he pursued that damnable dinosaur. Jetsam's subordinates wasted no time, in the aftermath of the Operative's work, creating enough of a distraction for their general to flee into the woods.
Elsewhere, Scofflaw itched at the tracking beacon in his ear, ignoring an odd look from Huebert as he spun around, trying to triangulate the beeping. Happy enough with Jetsam's trajectory, he beamed at his companion in as disarming a manner as he was capable.
---
Following periodic proddings from a tacit Operative Echo, Jetsam circumnavigated the Trench until the helicopter slid into view. He slunk into the cockpit, took one look at Tor, then wished he'd thought to snatch a gun off someone.
"You're the agent." Walters studiously ignored his higher-ups as he prepared the chopper for take-off.
"And you're..." Jetsam would've followed through with "another one of those arseholes," but Tor's altered appearance had tripped him. (The helicopter's ascent had, too, the soldier having not bothered to strap himself in, though he never would've mentioned it. Jetsam didn't like flying; it was only the confines of the helicopter keeping his residual fears of its associated lack of walls at bay.)
But for a moment. "Shit. You're that- you're that phoenix-man!"
"Attention Tengeri, or whoever's in there!"
Jetsam, pinned to the wall, quit his ineffectual attempts to remove Hubert's hand from his throat. It was something of a betrayl, really - many lives of appreciating a nice wall to which you could keep your back, taken for granted until some jackass decided you'd best stay there until he was finished with you. Jetsam aimed another valiant kick at Huebert's midsection, only for his foot to fall short of the bastard's arm length.
There was a moment's contemplation - a moment's hardening resolve as the wanderer realised what a fucking stupid situation this was - before the weird laws of his particular predicament dawned on Jetsam. He clawed at Huebert's meaty clamp of a fist until the pressure on his throat relented, then glared upward.
"Kill me. You stupid, dumb brute."
Huebert was at least smart enough to see when someone was doing something catastrophically moronic, so just frowned at the soldier. Jetsam did his best to roll his eyes in exasperation, and pointedly yelled into the dark corner he'd kicked Scofflaw into.
"Tell your fucking dumb muscle it's win-win, if he can understand that kind of shit. If that tentacled boyfriend of his wasn't lying, then you guys are gone once I vanish, and I'll be rid of the lot-"
"Now just hang on," interjected Scofflaw, whose previously enjoyable prospect of picking bits of Jetsam's face off his bat was sullied by the fact the nutcase might appreciate it (his stint as the Kinkaiju had been a short one, and not just because animal-themed costumes were a terrible idea for everyone involved.) "you've got your own way out?"
"I just explained that," Jetsam finally managed to choke out, whose feet left the floor again around 'tentacled boyfriend'. "Hurry up and make this stinking gorilla lose his temper already, you can help him aim for my vit-"
To Scofflaw's surprise (he wouldn't have given Huebert that much credit), Jetsam didn't end up on floor less than a second after with a concave skull. "You're an idiot, Jetsam."
"You're uglier," retorted the wanderer. Scofflaw just sighed.
"Huebert's got no intention of killing you, no matter how hard you try to hurt his feelings. You're being so pigheadedly ignorant it's almost refreshing."
Jetsam just grinned, jabbing a thumb at Huebert. "You're uglier than the bitch who brought this fat fuck into the world."
"This is juvenile," sighed Scofflaw, again. Kerak seemed to have wrapped up his spiel outside, which left the three of them no choice but to surface. Jetsam's Red soldiers appeared to have fled the Trench at the first possible opportunity, swearing no fealty to a teal-clad lieutenant, and Scofflaw was already headed for the door. "Coming?"
Huebert glanced around for any sticks of furniture which Jetsam might wield, then somewhat reluctantly finished strangling him. The wanderer avoided having to decipher his situation by massaging his throat, then barked at a departing Huebert with a look of bewilderment.
"Get back here." When that didn't work, "get back here and kill me, you spineless fucking cowards!"
"I'm not going to pretend to understand what just happened," growled Huebert, rather deliberately ignoring a furious Jetsam.
"I'm trying," shrugged Scofflaw, palming one of his various gadgets from a pocket to inside his ear before Kerak's soldiers searched him. "But he's stubborn. And appears to unconditionally hate us for knowing what he doesn't."
"That's... pretty stupid." Hubert jabbed a disinterested thumb Jetsam-ward, as a pack of Chartreuse prowled round for more prisoners to root out. Scofflaw just nodded agreement.
---
Jetsam actually rather appreciated the Chartreuse troops' summary invasion of the Trench, and their forcibly escorting him out to stew amongst the other prisoners of war. It gave him time to sit on his frustrations without standing there looking dumbfounded. After one good blow to the jaw from an overenthusiastic soldier of Kerak's for screaming abuse, there was a decent reason to shut his face for a while, too.
The incumbent Red General spent the negotiations distributing his best glare between Scofflaw, Huebert, Kerak, and the sergeant that had punched him (The latter two paid him no real attention, which didn't improve Jetsam's opinion of them any). The company eventually dispersed, the soldiers marked for conversion hurried ahead to the edge of the nullifying field, while Jetsam and the others marked as prisoners were manhandled along later. The lieutenant, in teal, stumbled further than feasible from the knock a Chartreuse private had given him, bumping into the back of a disgruntled Red sergeant.
"Shift, herring, emption," muttered Jetsam, as per the instructions the Black Op had given him. "You're our Brigadier, second in command now. Get used to it."
In the shadows of the woods, Operative Trace - Representative of Her Majesty (Partition://Nodes3(caching available for further Nodes0-2)/Designation:Green) sighed to himself. Even Echo couldn't claim to be optimistic about their interloper, and it had gone without saying between the two Operatives that Null (this purported "Red General's" personal Op) would kill him at the first opportunity.
I mean, promoting your first rewired troop straight to Brigadier. Really?
The Operative kind of wished he smoked like his colleague Echo did, if only to keep his hands busy. He unslung a rifle from nowhere, attached a silencer, then without much fuss shot the Chartreuse soldier that had insisted on giving Jetsam so much grief clean through the head.
The Black Op grumbled quietly, flickering through the trees as he pursued that damnable dinosaur. Jetsam's subordinates wasted no time, in the aftermath of the Operative's work, creating enough of a distraction for their general to flee into the woods.
Elsewhere, Scofflaw itched at the tracking beacon in his ear, ignoring an odd look from Huebert as he spun around, trying to triangulate the beeping. Happy enough with Jetsam's trajectory, he beamed at his companion in as disarming a manner as he was capable.
---
Following periodic proddings from a tacit Operative Echo, Jetsam circumnavigated the Trench until the helicopter slid into view. He slunk into the cockpit, took one look at Tor, then wished he'd thought to snatch a gun off someone.
"You're the agent." Walters studiously ignored his higher-ups as he prepared the chopper for take-off.
"And you're..." Jetsam would've followed through with "another one of those arseholes," but Tor's altered appearance had tripped him. (The helicopter's ascent had, too, the soldier having not bothered to strap himself in, though he never would've mentioned it. Jetsam didn't like flying; it was only the confines of the helicopter keeping his residual fears of its associated lack of walls at bay.)
But for a moment. "Shit. You're that- you're that phoenix-man!"
![[Image: f42mv7.png]](https://i54.tinypic.com/f42mv7.png)
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