"Nah. It just got boring. When does the next mission start, perchance?"
"We'll decide about a new challenge once the others are back. They're still on that other mission, isolated." He flies on a tree opposite to you and starts cleaning his feathers with his beak.
"He says we need to give everyone of us the opportunity to voice their opinions and ideas about the next challenge.
He says it shouldn't be more than a couple of minutes until the others are back. Then again, time doesn't work the same here. So it might seem longer or shorter than that to you."
"So, whatchu want wit me, Haz, betta speak while ya still gotta head. Dis is Gene turf now, Haz, beat it!"
Measure the Haz up, see if he's going to do anything.
You keep staring at the man opposite to you, trying to look intimidating, and he does the same. Or at least you think he does. Can't really see his eyes behind the lenses of his gas mask.
He finishes drinking from his mug, noisily sucking some air along with the last drops of liquid. He then drops the straw and steps on it with his boot, twisting his foot like he's putting out a cigarette, all the while not taking his lenses off of you. It feels like a silent threat.
Judging from his looks, he's probably not as strong as you. There are no visible weapons on him. And yet he's not backing off, he doesn't look afraid... Maybe he has some other kind of advantage, something that allows him to be this confident?
"I was a caravan guard. Had to deal with people like this all the time."
Finish the drink. Drop the straw and crush it beneath my boot. Size up the new guy.
<Oooh, that's interesting. I like that. Lucky me. Maybe I should get you in a simulation. See how well you work.
So that means you got into a lot of fights? With people trying to steal from you or "tax" you?>Well, he looks buff in a bodybuilder kind of way, large and strong, stronger than you. You wouldn't want to be anywhere near his arms. He's got tattoos that all share the same motif and symbols. But other than that, he looks normal, a normal human.
Then again, just because someone looks normal doesn't mean he is. He could have laser eyes or something. But assuming you're careful and smart and he isn't absurdly powerful, you could probably take him down.
Summon and fire a lounge chair at him!
You point at the stickman. Nothing happens. And then you're hit by a hammer and embedded in a wall.
This feels familiar...
If the staging area wasn't protecting you, this would probably be very painful, if not fatal.
"HAHAHAHAHA! DO YOU ACCEPT YOUR DEFEAT, HUMAN WEAKLING?"
John twitched again, trying to find the perfect spot. "Welcome! Looks like you had a bit of trouble."
Is the minifridge stocked? If not, can I summon some beers? Otherwise, look again for that blasted flaw.
The minifridge is, unfortunately, not stocked. Do you want try using your power to summon beers or just modify the staging area so that there are beers in your fridge?
Hmm, not much else to do but wait and think. Foolish of me to not check for explosives, I'm going to have to get use to dishonorable tactics.
Sit down if I can, and wait.
Waiting intensifies. Also, hard to sit down when you have no body.
Well...
..
..
It's.. it's a phone, I guess. If it works, I'm not complaining.
>No influence. He should know what to do from here.
Your host sits in the chair when he is confronted with the question of who he should call. He hadn't considered that before. All he was focused on was getting help, but now he realizes there's probably no-one he can call. He can't call his contact, that would only put his friend in further danger... if they haven't arrested him already. He knows a few safehouses but they are not usually staffed. Even if they were, he wouldn't know their numbers by heart. If they even have telephones. And on a night like this... No, he needs something else. Someone else who could help.
He sits there on the operator's chair and rests his head on his arms. He goes through his mental list of contacts, trying to remember who else could help him. Not an easy thing to do when you're dying. His mind drifts and he finds himself thinking about all sorts of other things. His life before the war. His future if he survives, now that he is a fugitive. How his comrades are faring. How the Red Defender is going to escape Dr Topper's trap. His car. His equipment.
...
His equipment! The jammer! He got it from a courier, working for his contact. He still remembers his number. If he's lucky, he'll answer the phone. He'll be kind enough to help. Yes, he has nothing to lose by trying. He plugs the handset in one of the plugs near the rotary dial and flips a few switches experimentally, until he gets a dial tone.
Irine
Wait and mentally prepare
Zoe
No Influence
Your host takes advantage of the lull in the shooting to drag Awena to cover. Awena whines but does not otherwise react. She remains there, eyes closed, her face and body tense with pain.
Zoe lifts her shirt and make a quick examination of her wounds. Surprisingly, they are not that severe, despite what the blood and Awena's reaction made her fear. The bullets have hit nothing vital and even the bleeding isn't that severe, mostly because they failed to penetrate more than her skin. The projectiles embedded in her will cause some pain and damage though, until they are removed. But there are more important things to consider now.
"You'll be fine. It's nothing serious. Just stay calm and stay in cover."Zoe doesn't wait to see if Awena understands that. She immediately starts crawling towards Amelia, making her way around the debris surrounding her, careful to stay in cover, trying not to move her injured leg too much. She's almost there, approaching the crystal when she notices something. A glint of well polished metal on the floor a few meters away from her, on the side opposite the door. Not her gun but Boris' gun. The question of how it got there, on the side of the room opposite to the door, does not stay in her mind for long. She immediately starts crawling towards it.
But less than a second later, she can hear footsteps coming from the side of the room the door was in. She can hear them very clearly in the silence that surrounds her. Boots on concrete.
TiruinAwena feels hands grabbing her, dragging her. The movement makes pain shoot through her abdomen and shoulder. She whimpers in response. Someone lifts her shirt and touches her near her wounds, causing more pain.
"You'll be fine. It's nothing serious. Just stay calm and stay in cover." she hears someone say a couple of seconds later as her shirt is lowered.
The words are little comfort for someone who has never been shot before, someone who has never felt that much pain and fear before. She heeds them regardless, staying still, trying to calm down.
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Topic: Special People: Mechanical Syndrome (Read 1126551 times)