Digitalism - Miami Showdown
Final Round
Establishing host control. Standby.
ToasterThe sun paints everything gold. Everything, even the dirty, shady alley you are in, through a copious amount of reflections. A shady alley with only a sliver of sky visible above it that is slowly becoming darker and darker. A shady alley with garbage bins, garages made for loading trucks and locked service or emergency doors. A shady alley where a plastic bag was just carried to an open electrical panel full of spliced wires, where it became stuck. A shady alley with a metal door you are trying to break through, a door with a surprisingly modern and robust electronic security system for its old and dirty appearance. This is taking longer than you'd like.
SalsacookiesThe sun paints everything gold. The smog filled sky of the city and the few fluffy clouds visible on the horizon. The sea, each wave a tiny mirror, constantly moving. The dots of various sizes denoting ships and swimmers. The beach, with people slowly trickling away from it while the few rushing for a late swim (or party) arrive. The buildings rising ever higher as they come closer to you, the static dim golden reflections of their windows contrasting with those of the sea. The bedroom you are in, alone yet in the company of an armed escort. The gun of the assassin jumping through the window, pointed straight at your head, a dark shadow blocking the sun.
ToasterThere is a tremor. You look up. Smoke and dust is rising out of the side of the building. There is the sound of gunshots. You were too late. Well, there's no need for stealth anymore. A quick stab and the lock disappears, while a more ranged solution assembles on your other hand.
You come in with alarms blaring. A quick shot stops the noise, at least in the immediate area. A second shot causes the guard you encounter in the next hallway to stop and spasm. A hit with your shaft hastens his fall, while your other hand tosses the overheated gun away and gets to work on a small sphere. The moment it is ready, it is launched at an unsuspecting guard looking at his camera feeds with confusion, causing him to spasm and fall to his chair, unconscious.
With a poke, you undo your sabotage and make the screens show the truth. A quick peek shows you your target before another poke disables the surveillance system for good. You walk out of the room just as the machines start emitting smoke, the drives inside them catching fire.
SalsacookiesEveryone else that was in the room is gone. Friend or foe. You're in the hallway now, making your way between numbered doors. The power is still out. The only light comes through the holes in the wall and door of the room you were in, the swirling dust making the golden sun rays appear tangible. Intermittent gunfire comes from above, below and all around you, muffled by the concrete and insulation between the rooms and levels.
A door bursts open, creating a wall of light in the hallway. A shadow deforms the wall, a man dressed in black, a crow with glowing red machine eyes. He knows where you are. He raises his weapon, but you slap it away. He expected that. He immediately reaches for a knife, drawing it and slashing with it in one swift motion. You catch the knife from the blade. He did not expect that. His masked face betrays no emotion, but you can tell by the way he freezes. A kick and he's flying out the room's window.
More men come from either side of the hallway, pointing their guns at you, the glowing red lights in their goggles and glowing red laser pointers in their assault rifles all pointing at you. There is only one way out.
ToasterAnother tremor. The doors of the elevator open. At the end of the dark hallway, there is a hole, broken supports bent downwards, cut wires sparking, burst pipes spewing water, golden light escaping through the dust. Standing below it on a small crater formed by concrete rubble is your target. Time to end this.
SalsacookiesThe elevator door opens. The question of why this one is full of light while everything else is dark is answered by the man inside it. He too is here for you. And he won't stop until it's over. Time to end this.
<Synchronisation complete.>
Establishing host control. Standby.Coolrune206 You watch from your vantage point as the windows on the top level of the building are blown outwards, dust and smoke flying out of the holes they leave. Well, looks like it's time for plan B then.
You fiddle with the buttons on your coat as you wait. Not very comfortable with this heat, but necessary to hide who and more importantly what you are. Not that anybody could spot you up here, but you never now.
Yes, and here is the response. Slowly moving down the bridge, towards the island, the exact opposite of subtlety and practicality. No wonder films say the cavalry is always late to arrive.
You open your cloak, jump off the top of the building and spread your wings, quickly gliding downward. You point at your target and prepare to fire. This will be too easy.
Hawk132The spikes came out of nowhere. There was only the evening breeze, the sound of the waves hitting concrete and the sound of traffic, the sound of your transport moving. Then the first struck a car that was unfortunate enough to be next to you. There was the sound of horns and the screeching of tires. The driver panicked and tried to stop. The one behind it drove into it, pushing it through the railing and over the edge, into the sea below. The second one hit your transport in its leg, penetrating the armour and causing it to fall on top of you.
This turned out to be a fortunate turn of events, for your steed did a good job shielding you from the rest of the barrage. But it was damaged beyond your ability to repair in the process. There are spikes embedded deep in its body, already dissolving into a sticky goo. Your employers will have to cover that once this is over.
Not much different from what happened around you. Traffic on the bridge has stopped, through fear, death and mechanical failure. What civilians were not killed are either running away or have locked themselves inside their cars.
You lift the mechanical steed off of you, get up and search for your attacker. The winged man lands in the middle of the road, his wings disappearing as they merge with his body. He looks up to you, adjusts his fedora and smiles.
Standing in your way? Challenging you? Well, he won't stand for long. You may move slowly, but you let nothing stop you, nothing keep you from your objective. You are not afraid to walk right through him. You are the law. And you will be victorious.
<Synchronisation complete.>
OOCShort turn this time, starting the final round. I'll hopefully do the rest of you tomorrow.
If the way I described things was confusing, ask and I will clarify. Just thought it would be more fun to write this way.
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Topic: Special People: Mechanical Syndrome (Read 1141258 times)