"You're right!" I cry out to Rey, preparing myself for the final onslaught. I raise a large metal rod over my shoulder, and a heavy one at that, and prepare to throw it at the creep with all my strength; it's about time someone cut him down to size
----
"Well, someone wants to make an enterence" A voice behind me cries. It's cold, brisk, yet young all the same. The man who carried it must must've seen a lot, been through a lot; you don't get a tone like that from raindrops and butterflies.
I turn around to make eye contact with the figure, and glare at his strange form. He's pale, but well built; he's been raised in the dark, but raised with a purpose. The man is wrapped in a mask tattoos, most of which cling to left side of his face and wrap around his neck, almost like bar codes, or labels of sorts. He's dressed in some kind of uniform, but not one I'm familiar with. It's marked with the emblem of the United Nations, but also with another crest, a flame embedded within a silver ring. He doesn't appear to be linked to any sort of rank, and he doesn't have a single medal pined to his chest, but he seems to carry himself with the authority of a man with hundreds. His bruised hands are thrusted deep into his pockets, and his body stands tilted towards me.
His head rolls back as he speaks, unveiling yet more ink coating his collar bone. "What's your name, kid. Must be pretty brave to be messing about with your toys on the front line" He walks towards me slowly, bobbing from one foot to the next as he approaches. Who does he think he is?
"The names Roy, Roy Harper. I'm not 'playing with toys', I'm trying to stay alive"
He lets out a small laugh, as he recalls his statement sarcastically. He raises his arms in a mocking sign of surrender, revealing a small firearm dangling from his left index finger.
"Sorry." He mutters "I just thought you'd want a real weapon" The Man spins the weapon around for a moment, before passing it in my direction, handle outstretched. "Ever fired a big-boy-toy before?"
He mocks me again, as my patience slowly begins to slip. I pelt the rod in Eliots general direction, not overly caring about accuracy; this asshole was too distracting for me to fight at my full potential
"Yes, I have fire a gun before. Quite often, actually"
"What are you then? A soldier?" I cries, raising an eyebrow so heavily pierced it's a miracle he can even move it.
"A theif." I bite down on my lip hard; it's best I lie to him now, rather than waste time explaining the whole 'I'm-a-vigilante" thing again. It'll just save time.
"Definitely not a Candor then." The sarcasm returns "Don't worry kid. Just take the gun and start shooting. The names Eric, I'm with the UN"
I do as he instructs, not out of desire, but out of necessity.
I aim and unleash a wave of lead towards Eliot, shooting to wound. The familiar sense of recall fills my arms once again; the one perk guns have to bows is the sensation of achievement that comes with recall; it's empowering.
I catch this man, this Eric, reach down into a pouch on his leg, just out of the corner of my eye, and remove a small collection of throwing knives; looks like I'm not the only person who enjoys precision. He filters them through his fingers, almost like he's counting them, feeling then, all while remaining perfect eye contact with his foe. I notice his sadistic grin; the sheer adrenaline that must be flowing through his system must be unreal.
With but a twitch of his wrist he
unleashes a flurry of blades in the direction of his opponent, aiming for his major arteries; calling Eric well trained would understate his precision. The next action flows directly out of the previous, with the UN member reaching into his jacket to remove a small, orange injector. The substance looks like Mirakuru in regards to constancy, yet the way Eric holds it stops me from thinking of the substance any longer. He catches my eye and explains "What's wrong, kid. Never seen
Fear Serum before? One dose of this and Ol' Eliot over here will be seeing all of his bad dreams flash before his eyes; I've always wondered what a creep like this' nightmares would look like, maybe some of them are happening already..."
And with that, he
threw the vial towards Eliot, his only recoil being another grin...
@Atomyk @The Silver Paladin (do you approve?)
@Mari @Jeremi
@Verite @Krieg @EveryoneElse
Mobile post
