What, You think this is a Game?!

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viperslate13610

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SHORT DESCRIPTION OF SETTING! yay :)

Set in the modern day, a young man is fighting for his life against an organization of political assassins, each with their own unique abilities, known as The Headsmen. This young man was once one of them until recently, when he found out that the people that The Headsmen were killing were not in fact political threats or terrorists but honest, innocent people. His desertion would not be taken lightly. Not by the Headsmen, nor the people they work for, as the young man was about to find out. And so our story begins...


Michael, former alias Assassin No.8, bolted down the now not-so-crowded, grimy city street in London as bullets whizzed past his ears and pinged as the ricocheted off the concrete making precise, shaggy craters mere centimeters from their target. Michael specialized in knives and thrown weapons, so there was no way that he could ever stand a chance under fire in the middle of a well-lit city street. He had to find cover from the incessant hail of sniper fire. He spotted an alley to his left. He drew a knife from under his pinstriped business suit and flung it at a nearby streetlight, penetrating the glass and shattering the bulb inside, blanketing a small section of the street next to the alley in darkness. Michael dashed into the alley and behind a dumpster and panted for breath. He looked down and noticed a red stain on his shirt. "Shit... Just a graze..." he whispered to himself as he touched the flesh where a bullet had scraped him along his side.
 
Z a ex military lieutenant hears the gun fire from a few blocks away recognizing the sound of fire he realizes its sniper fire and knows this is no ordinary dispute wondering if there are any innocent bi standards Z rushes of to the scene. he reaches what he thinks is the right street with a quick look around and the obvious bullet hole in the cement wall he starts looking for wounded with fire still coming down he ducks low and hunkers down to the wall and moves quickly along the street as he comes upon an area he notices broken glass and a small blood trail leading to a blacked out alley way. he yells "is anyone in there are you hurt? my name is Z i am here to help." he waits for a response.
 
Michael heard the old man come down the alley. He could hear him even breathing too loudly, let alone his shouts. Michael grabbed the man from behind and pulled him, with frightening speed, behind the dumpster. Michael put the back of a knife against the old man's throat. "Listen good, old fool, I am only going to say this once...", whispered Michael. "Shut up. Not a word, or I will split you ear to ear, understand? Or you are going to get us both killed."

Michael looked a little closer at the man through the darkness. He knew exactly who and what this man was. Ex army, higher up rank, possibly lieutenant, reaching his late fourties... Michael sniffed the air once or twice. Alcoholic? Maybe not. Drank recently? Definitely. A bullet smashed at the concrete, chipping away once again at the surface. He needed at least some form of medical attention but he had no supplies and now he was stuck in an alley, under fire, with a noisy old man...
 
Garneil was stood on a high rooftop, the wind was strong but nothing fierce. He was becoming frustrated with not only the fact that his tie kept escaping from his waist coat and blazer, but that his men were incapable of hitting one single man. "For fuck sake! Hit him! You have a scope don't you!?" He flicked his fringe from his face and cracked his kneck. "Blast you all if i have to go down there, i'm not in a good mood today and i can't be bothered taking hostages." One of the soldiers looked down his scope to see two figures in an alley. "5, i mean sir! Down here! I've..." Garneil kicked the barrel, sending the bullet off target and pinging off a lamp post. "Belay that last order. Try get a mic down there" He placed one foot on the raised ledge, looking out to the alley, resting his fist under his chin. "We'll have you 8. We know how you work" Garneil cocked a smile and laughed to himself. "Soon 8...soon"
 
"Listen to me, old man..." whispered Michael, noticing that the bullets stopped longer than a reload period. "Any minute, they will be getting some sort of surveillance down here. I don't care weather you stay here or not, but I do not want to die today. And you are slowing me down..." he snapped quietly. He released the old man and slipped away into the darkness. Almost becoming one with the shadows. He made his way up a drainpipe and onto a rooftop with a four foot lip on the edge. It was enough for him to hide behind and even take cover. He ducked down and twirled a knife between his fingers. He concentrated on the rooftop 50m away from his position. He heard his breath become calm. All pain in his body subsided, and his mind became clear. He heard a rifle bolt slide. He zeroed in on the sound and as he did, he stood quickly and threw the knife at his target. The knife cut a cresent shape through the air and burrowed itself into the throat of the rifle toting goon. Michael ducked down again and the pain came flooding back and he flinched. "Take that, you son of a bitch... Heh... Not today..." he spat.
 
He saw one figure dispatch as it climbed up a level and into hiding. "The clever bitch" Garneil put his hand onto the side of his head, activating some form of ear. "Ground squad. 6th Alley on the right, from the corner. He's on the..." He darted backwards quickly, avoiding a knife that had flown in which penetrated the wind pipe and collar bone of one of his brigade. He adjusted the knot on his tie, flattened his hair and shuffled his blazer slightly. "BRIGADE! Cover me." He drew from his back a large katana, but this one was modified. On either side at the top of the blade spouted two barrels, underneath the blade at the handle was a drum of shells. This was his infamous double barrel blade. He'd killed many with this weapon and was highly trained in close combat. "I'm coming 8" He leapt from the side of the building and began run down the side of it, pushing of ledges and alcoves to stop impact when reaching the ground. The troops opened relentless fire, continuous waves of 50 CAL. bullets, tearing away at the lip that concealed Michael.
 
"Shit!" exclaimed Michael as bullets started to tear away at the lip. "Calm down..." he said to himself as he began his battle meditations. He stood to confront his approaching foe. A fifty cal bullet tore it's way towards his face and he moved aside a fraction as it whizzed past. He drew twin knives, ready for battle. Bullets whisked and pinged all around him, yet he did not flinch. He was determined to escape. And if that meant taking the life of No. 5, his previous mentor, so be it. As 5 drew closer and closer, he became more ready. That was one thing that Michael had over 5. The ability to just let his soul take over during a fight instead of using his brain. Not only that, but it was dark. Michael liked the dark...
 
The past had been strange for Garneil, orphaned and raised within Headsmen, his only family had ever been there. For years he trained and built his power. He'd train all day and then sit quietly in isolation all night. No rest, no play, a child who was devoted to a cause...to prove he could be worth someone to something. Being orphaned he took friends seriously. He remembered the day Michael arrived at the Headsmen's Assassin Academy. They were partners and they bonded like brothers. Michael used to always call him his mentor, but that's only because Garneil was a little older and calmed him down in training. They would accomplish the hardest ranked missions with one another...yet that one mission. After that mission they were never the same. Michael couldn't stomach the truth and deserted them, not believing their values. Garneil wanted to walk away...but they were family. Even if they tortured and abused him. "Where's 8!!! Tell us now!" He learnt to hate that name, he learnt to hate Michael. He not only deserted the company but also Garneil...he was the only person Garneil ever wanted to let go of. He made it his mission to hunt him down.

He stopped in the middle of the street when he reached the bottom, raising his fist into the air, a command to cease fire. Everything was deathly still, the wind passed through the hollow street, bags rustling, signs clanging occasionally. Then the silence was broken. "8! We know you're up there. Come down and we'll take you away...alive. Or you can come down and try your chances." He rested his weapon (DBB) on his shoulder and glanced behind him. "I'm issuing an order as of now. If 8 faces me in battle...none of you, i repeat NONE of you, will fire" He lifted his hand and a huge burst of "YES SIR!" echoed through the streets. "You call yourself a headsman!? Betrayal, deceit, cowering away up there. Face me 8. IT'S WHAT WE WERE DESTINED TO DO!" He laughed loudly and flicked his fringe from his eyes. He took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, returning his free hand to rest in his pocket.
 
The kid's abnormal. They knew that. No one was going to keep that away from the public, no one was going to tell the kid wrong. He was made Headsman, but they doubted he wanted to be. He was only 13. His birthday in a few days. They knew once he hit 14 he could kill every single person in that compound. If he wasn't trained he could defy his role as a Headsman and be the evil prince that everyone feared. They had only a few more days to teach him...before they figured it out...before they die, and the kid one. It's on them.
 
Z after the weird encounter with the knife wielder staggered back and sat against the dumpster and listened. hearing the yells of all the men down the alley way he thought to himself maybe i should just stay out of this. but being the stubborn old war vet he was he stood confidently grabbed onto the dumpster and started to push it down the alley way picking up momentum he let go of the dumpster as it rampaged down the alley way towards the brigade of men Z drew his twin desert eagles and let loose a hail storm of gun fire in the direction of the men.
 
Garneil heard a rattling noise and saw a dumpster come flying at him, following it a rain of bullets coming from the alley. "What the fuck..." he leapt into the air landing on the lid, he ducked and leant out the way of the bullets as he rode the dumpster down the road, deflecting the bullets that were unavoidable. "The silly old fool!" He fixed his finger onto the trigger and sprang into action. He jumped from the bin and sprinted up the street, weaving like a snake to dodge the incoming bullets. He was quick! Very quick. He was the kind of fighter which wasn't all that strong but used speed as an advantage, his power though he only used when needed, and a very powerful one at that. He received a call from his headquarters. "Brilliant timing!" He took cover in an alcove so he could speak to the soldier on the line. "The camera's have picked up on the situation. They're calling in number 16" Garneil's face dropped. "What!? The psycho kid!? I have the situation at hand." The soldier replied. "Sorry, higher orders. Take it up with them when you get back. Over and out." Garneil sighed and slumped to the floor, putting out his cigarette. "Those fools...i want 8 alive...i want to fight him myself!"
 
Running across the rooftops with a grin, a girl made her way through the city. She had just successfully robbed a huge target and was carrying enough coin and jewelry to buy herself a large house and a whole new wardrobe besides. It was finally her chance to get off the streets and stop picking pockets every day just for the chance to eat. Already she had been caught twice and the second time hadn't escaped without being arrested for a few weeks before she managed to break out. A capital 'H' was tattooed on her left shoulder, a memoir for her sister. The thought made her grimace, but none of it mattered now. She would be rich enough that her previous reputation would disappear and she could live in peace.


Suddenly she heard shots that seemed to follow her across the rooftop. She had been spotted! Panicked, she dove across an alley and burst in through a window, shattering the glass and rolling across the floor to bounce back up to her feet. Her dark red hair fell around her face loosely, having partially fallen out of her braid. She looked around with deep hazel eyes, her pale skin flushed with adrenaline. This building seemed empty, but the gunfire was following her. Cursing, she ran up the stairs and nearly ran into a man who was sitting there bleeding. Quickly she stepped back from him, examining him closely. So, perhaps she wasn't the target.


"So, you're the one destroying the neighborhood," she commented conversationally, giving him a mischievous grin as she settled down behind a stack of cement blocks to shield herself.

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[[Also, the only reason she's dressed like that is because she stole from a Ren Faire xD I do realize this is modern day -nods-]]
 
When Garneil put out his cigarette a shadow passed over him, he heard a loud smash and glass fell from the sky along with splinters of wood. "What the hell is going on here!?" He looked up to see one of the building higher up windows had been smashed...from the outside? "So we have 8 here, a crazy old man who is armed to the teeth, number 16 will be here soon and now we have a mystery guest!?" He sighed and rubbed his hand against his head in frustration. "Base this 5 calling in. We have another bogey on site, not sure if Neutral or enemy. I'm off to investigate, over" With that he flicked his fringe from his face and looked around for a way into the building. There was a back door further down the alley. He kicked it in and set for the stairs. "I'm gonna get you ya little shit!"
 
((@Abovus: Please don't threadjack. I know you probably didn't do it intentionally and we were lining up for a good fight scene. I can also see that you are a new RPer and the only way you are going to get better is if someone let's you know these things :) check out the 'Roleplaying 101' thread for more info :) ))
((@Layne: Nice to be RPing with you again, Layne :) ))

"So what if I am?" Michael said to the strange girl who seemed to want to poke around inside his bullet wound. "You seem like a nice enough girl, but I really need you to not get your head blown off just yet..." he said with a smile. He stood and walked to the edge of the far side of the rooftop. He stepped off over the ledge, pin-dropping straight down, swung through the open window, landing perfectly. He faced 5, blades drawn. "We still have time before that psycho 16 gets here. Whaddaya say?" he smirked violently. His battle meditation was already in effect. His constantly stressed and worrying brain was put away where is should be during battle. And the battle was just about to begin.
 
Kali tilted her head a fraction as the guy said that he needed her not to get his head blown off. An odd way to phrase things, but his smile made it almost seem like a flirt. She laughed a bit to herself and watched him walk to the edge and step off like it was nothing. Ooh, this just kept getting more and more interesting! There was no way she wasn't going to find out what he was up to and why so many people apparently wanted him dead. She stood up carefully and adjusted her trousers and shirt, yet again cursing herself for thinking that nicking clothes from a Ren Faire was a good idea. It made her stand out like crazy, but she had always liked the styles. Oh well, nothing to help it now.


She raced to the side of the roof and dove off into an open window on the other side, rolling again and springing up easily. Years of practicing this crap had obviously been effective, she noted with a smirk. Without hesitation, she made her way to a fresh window and peeked out to look into the window the odd guy had dropped into. She could see another man with him, and they obviously weren't buddies.


"Too bad I don't have any popcorn," she muttered with a grin, settling back on a pile of old wooden paletts to watch what would happen.
 
"There you are 8. I began to think you were avoiding me" Garneil closed his eyes and began to roll his ankles and neck, making them crick. He drew DBB from off his back and loaded the drum of shells. "I'm going to enjoy this!" He opened his eyes and a purple aura danced about them. This was Garneil's power of Physio Warp. He could manipulate split seconds of time and movement in little bursts in an isolated area. This is how he moved so quickly when running, being able to take three steps when someone else would be taking one! He hadn't been able to master his power so he could not sustain a time hold for more than 4.8 seconds (this was very energy consuming hence the little bursts of time manipulation). However this was more than enough time to land a killing blow. He ran at Michael and tried to land an over head heel kick, spinning his torso as he twisted overhead and swiping at him with his blade.
 
Michael's brain had blanked out completely. It was his soul in the ring now. He just barely dodged the kick that came from above and ducked the horizontal blade swipe that followed after with frightening speed. Michael had a few tricks of his own. He was absolutely armed to the teeth with knives for one... He performed a backwards handstand somersault to put some distance between them. He sheathed his twin blades in his belt. He shoved his hands into either opposite sleeve and sent a flurry of tiny shuriken towards No. 5.
 
He has no idea what the outside looks like. He was born in the compound and he's been there his whole life, as a puppet. At 14 he will get his own mind. 14 is the key age for him. Only 2 more days. He will be free of those crazed scientists.
 
Garneil had forgotten how good Michael was at hand to hand combat. He watched as the shuriken flew towards him. He shot DBB into them, scattering the knives and sending them in all directions. "I can play like that 8" He used Physio Warp as he shot a shed load of bullets in an arched movement, realising warp to fire them all at once in an all hell barrage. "No escape" Garneil whispered as he let the buckshot loose with a wild and manic grin on his face.
 
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