@anthony_stark: Nope, he is dead! No longer part of this world, sleeps with the fishes, pushing up daises, the hard goodbye, singing in the choir, an ex person, the milk had gone bad, X's for eyes, on the last train to nowhere, DEAD! o_o. Don't feel bad man, I just sell :P)
@_trip_: ( You are my first RP player kill lol...damn xD )
The leader walked upto the dead body, he lifted up his mask a little, only enough to show his lips and spat on the body, then proceeded to fire 6 shots into his dead chest. The other members of the VRS took out knives and started to carve the body up into little pieces, throwing them to some dogs on the other side of the base.
Trip sat up while gasping in new life, again...Of course this time he was completely naked, sitting with a bunch of dogs that decided not to fully chew one of the chunks of flesh. "Jesus!" He exclaimed at the brutality that the men used on his corpse. This was Trip's "thing"...Ever since he died of a drug overdose in the punk 80's, he came back from the dead. He has no idea why, or how, or anything about it. Just that ever since that night he had one to many painkillers, he didn't age, and nothing kept him dead for more then a day...To his misfortune though, he was still just a petty criminal trying to get by. The freshly revived Trip scaled the fence before one of the dogs got hungry again, quickly grabbing his bloody clothes and bag of morphine from where he was cut up, and scurried off into the night, not looking back.
(Trust me mate, i'm going to be the RP player you kill..Alot XD)
The streets began to clear slowly as the sun set on the city of Puerto Ayacucho, and Abigail had spent a long day helping with those struggling in the wake of the war's aftermath. The language barrier proved problematic for the first few days, but after a while she had found a kind young native who spoke English as well to translate back and forth for her, free of charge..
Now, she had but one more "assignment" to attend to. A small meeting she'd decided to attend with one of the local "resistance groups." They established contact as soon as she had recovered from the ordeal on the HALO Corp rooftop (though it was spotty, and coordination was tough without a translator at first). Recently, she'd lost contact with the group, so her next course of action would be showing herself at the next meeting and getting a firsthand view of things.
Of course, her first thought was that a loss of contact meant something had happened, but the group was often split anyway, spread amongst the city in meetings and members, to make them more difficult to keep track of. She carried her bow, just in case, the dagger and athame placed on the inside of her pant leg and her boot, respectively. Aware of the dangers even from non-authority figures, she was on guard the entire time travelling the streets. Soon, she came to a building with a piece of paper and a red X on the door. She didn't know what the X meant, but on the paper was a half-circle, marking it as the meeting place. No stars, as the connection would easily be drawn with the flag of Venezuela.
Apparently, something had gone wrong anyway. Before she even opened the door, a rancid smell wafted into her nostrils. It was then that she noticed the entire area was devoid of any sound whatsoever, aside from those she made. Drawing an arrow to the bow, she nudged the door open with her foot. The scent grew immediately stronger, unbearable. She recognized blood, with a number of others mixed in. Something was definitely wrong. Heading through the dark hallway to the back room, heart beating mercilessly on her chest, she tugged lightly on the string, raising it gradually higher. A flick of the switch with her elbow and the light revealed a sight she wished she'd never seen.
At that moment she caught what she recognized as her first scent of rotting meat. Six bodies, naked and bleeding. Five of them cut into chunks, the remaining survivor was missing all of the fingers on both of his hands, and in a large, open stomach wound, maggots had already begun feasting on his flesh. His face read shock, but he didn't respond to anything. Seems his brain had completely disconnected itself from the outside world to cope with the pain.
"Oh...Oh, God." Abby gagged out the words while staggering backwards, fighting back the vomiting impulse which had overcome her. Her first instinct was to reach for a phone to try contacting the authorities, but she was suddenly reminded of the current state of things, and who probably committed the inhumane acts. Unsure of what to do or who to call, she looked helplessly back and forth over the bodies, nausea swelling back up inside, and the contents of her meagre lunch from the day spilled over the floor, her body unable to handle the overloading of her senses and emotions.
Before she could even begin to recover, she felt the cold steel of the barrel of a rifle on the back of her neck. "Suelta su arco," a man commanded from behind, jabbing her thrice more with the gun. "Dammit," she whispered to herself. How do you keep letting yourself end up like this? Annoyed, both at herself and at the other, she slowly placed the bow and arrow on the ground. And not a moment after, she felt the breech of the rifle against the back of her skull and she collapsed into a puddle of blood and guts.
"I hope this is not what you call paid vacation time." Archer exclaimed to the Senior VP of Lennox Outfitters, a tall, aged, well mannered Caucasian. He chuckled at his employee comment before mustering up a response before the rest of the technicians. "Mr. Archer, we've synthesized nearly five hundred treatment options but without radiation samples we can't implement anything. No harm shall come to you nor the others. All you need to do is let the device do its job."
Milo shook his head then glanced around the room to meet the eyes of his fellow workers. Though their stares were blank he could tell that they weren't the least bit interested in visiting the war zone that was Venezuela. He himself was curious about the effective damage and quite eager to investigate, yet reluctant to be accompanied by the rest of the staff. It was too dangerous for such a large group to enter the country, especially for those in the party with no combat experience. "Look, I will go, alone. But I want something in return."
The VP grinned firmly and said, "Well?" Milo rose from his seat then deactivated the cloaking system of his suit morphing his casual work outfit into the CWS yet this time the once all black outfit had streaks of energy coursing through it. "I'm keeping the Mark II," he stated, his voice electronically morphed by the full face helmet. The VP held his grin, a trademark of his persona and spoke. "As expected. Who do you think it was made for my boy?"
Utilizing a small space craft provided by the company the Tranquil decided to test out the armor's capabilities. after ejecting from the vehicle he shot into the atmosphere. Like a rocket he soared through the crust, amazed at the fire that enveloped his form as reentered the planet. The systems stabilized the temperature on his end and he didn't break a sweat as he soared head first towards the Venezuelan Northern Quarter. "Touch down in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...." chimed the on board A.I. system, which naturally tracked his velocity and measured the distance. In a heap of smoke and dust stood a crater. From one knee Milo raised, exhilarated by the drop and its success. What he didn't realize is, if they didn't know he was coming, they sure do know he's here now.
Taking Amaranth's suggestions from their last, fruitful conversation in the aftermath of the unanticipated assault launched on the Renegades headquarters, the stylish Don embarks on a journey to the ravaged wasteland, formerly known as Venezuela. With visual prominence, his perfected physique coupled with his luxurious fashion sense in the form of a dapper light grey Armani Martini suit, strongly distinguished him from the ambient population. Calmly adjusting his lavish black tie and black, inner Zegna dress shirt, the Catalan Knightfall readies the intricately-organized zepto-technology of his personalized M.D.D.S. for the purpose of capturing vivid footage of the horrors plaguing the country. Visual stimuli captured by his mesmeric blue eyes, the electro-chemical signals in the neurons, speedily converted into video format by the implanted technological components in his powerful brain.
@morte_knightfall: The V.R.S. was hot on his tail but thank to his stealth system he was able to evade them long enough to set up the device. Yet a distraction in the form of an exquisitely dressed individual who seemed to be aimlessly wandering through the desolate wasteland. Dispelling the camouflage the armored titan approached th man. "Lost?"
@tranquil: With characteristic rapidity, his highly escalated sensory perception had alerted him to the presence of another via the detection of the stranger's muscularly generated electric fields coupled with the distinct voice that seemed to address him with altruistic intent. With arms regally folded behind his back, the aristocratic Spaniard turned round to face the man, greeting him with a polite smirk of charismatic appeal. "Not at all senor. Simply", pausing to glance across the architecturally bombarded landscape, "Observing".
@morte_knightfall: "Looks may be deceiving, but you seem a bit out of place." The sensory function of his suit, hard wired to his own superior senses detected the advancing presence of the VRS. "I don't suppose you've had any run ins with locals yet either? Might find some trouble."
The VRS had been alerted to the sudden arrival of a space-craft hitting the ground, this would obviously not go unnoticed by the response squad. 50 members of the VRS had secretly mobilized and started to encircle the two men. Upon being a mere 200 meter's away, all armed with AK-47s they aimed their guns at the two men as one of the officers shouted "PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD, REBEL SCUM" All the soldiers had raised their guns, ready to fire on a single instruction.
The device, carefully hidden out of sight and undetectable because of its simple function, required more time to gather enough radiation for sampling. Seeking to stall for time the Tranquil seemed to comply, retracting his helmet into the armor and revealing his auburn features whilst raising his hands slowly. "Got a plan?" he mumbled to his now fellow captive.
@anthony_stark: @tranquil: "Oh how they can be my friend", indeed, his poise and inherent politeness served as a perfectly developed cloak to his innate deadliness. "Not yet, but it seems that that will change in a moment". Surprisingly composed in the face of the situation's escalating intensity upon the arrival of the VRS, the Martial Arts Don theatrically rose his arms in a mock surrender, allowing a soft, amused chuckle to escape him. "Tis quite unfortunate that it had to come to this. Shoot", almost taunting the surrounding officers with a cocky pizzaz in his daring eyes.
@tranquil: @morte_knightfall: The VRS walked over to the two men, 25 on each-man as they encircled with in separate trying to cut them off from each-other, suddenly a leader appeared from a crowed of men, looking highly sadistic and dangerous he spoke to Andres with venom tipped words.
"who are you, and what do you want?" He kept his gun low, but ready to fire just in-case.
The other 25 men walked towards the other man, and raised their guns to him as a random VRS trooper shouted "Get on the floor"
@anthony_stark: Using the Air step Milo faded from sight, evaded the cacophony of bullets and reappeared behind the 25 units dispatched to deal with him. From there he took off in full sprint, dropping a magnetic mine and activating it. The high powered magnet would attempt to wrench the weapons from the VRS soldiers hands.
@anthony_stark: "Just a traveler my friend. I was told that this place suffered an unforgivable catastrophe", Andres elaborated, calmly lowering his arms prior to aristocratically folding them behind his back, maintaining his seemingly unbreakable air of poise and class. "I simply had to see for myself senor".
@anthony_stark: @morte_knightfall: @tranquil: Just as the gunfire started, from the bright sky crashed a green mass only ten or so blocks away from the conflict, the impact however was enough to make the earth shake immensely. Meanwhile at the crash site, the green behemoth that was the Brute stood up from the crater it made and glared at the VR forces with rage filled eyes, towering over them like they were toy soldiers. "AAAAAUGH!"
@arquitenens: [I can be a damsel maker too y'know :D]
- During Argentina’s infamous "dirty war," the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights reported in 1980 the use of the "submarine" torture technique during interrogations. It was described as: "Immersion by means of the so-called submarine, where the victim’s head is covered with a cloth hood and intermittently forced into a vessel containing water, in order to induce asphyxiation as a means of obtaining information from the prisoner." (Inter-American Commission on Human Rights. "Right to Personal Security, Country Report on Argentina," 1980.)
- In Chile, under Pinochet, the security forces were also known to be using "the ‘submarine,’ a method that consists in submerging the person in baths full of water—sometimes mixed with excrement—until he cannot breathe," according to the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights report of 1985. ("Report on the Situation of Human Rights in Chile," September 9, 1985.)
The VRS officer placed his gun on the back of the woman's head as she dropped the bow, turning around to his other men he spoke English for the first time "Take the bow" The man walked up-to the bow, and picked it up as he took position next-to the down intruder or possible rebel. The leading VRS member spoke "Tie her up, we are taking her back too base" If she was indeed unconscious the men would put a bag over her head and then carry her out towards the van, once this was done they would throw her in and drive to the military base that was not far ahead. Once inside they would take her and carry her to the torture room and tie her up on a chair. Then wake her up.
"AGAIN!" The young boy squealed with delight as he grasped the side of Nathan's arm. The young boy didn't understand or speak much English but Nathan had managed to teach the boy a few phrases and words after stopping in the small fishing town while traveling through the remains of Venezuela. He even managed to pick up a few words of Spanish himself and used what he knew to communicate with the boy as best he could. From what Nathan could pick up, the boy had witnessed the death of his entire family from what he called "The Growing Sickness". If Nathan had arrived a few hours later the young boy would have joined his three sisters, his younger brother, his parents and his grandma in the shallow graves that remained exhibited in the town's square.
"Alright kid, but after this go to bed." Nathan paused and then with one quick huff the skin on his arm transformed into a hard metallic casing. He didn't want to recognize the obvious. Since his arrival in the war-torn country his powers had depleted exponentially. It had become a chore to phase one single arm a few times when before it was almost impossible to feel a strain after phasing his entire body into metal numerous times back to back. Each time Nathan would absorb the cancer cells or radiation sickness of another he would feel the toxins course through his body and leave behind a trace of the sickness which resulted in him feeling extremely ill and fatigued for hours on end.
"Vete a la cama." A familiar voice rang from behind Nathan. The boy left the small medical tent with a sigh before the voices owner sat and handed Nathan a bottle of diluted water. "You don't look so hot." Maria added before placing her hand on Nathan's burning forehead. "I feel fine." Nathan responded with a confident bold tone in hopes of burying the undeniable truth. The truth that soon Nathan would have to stop helping the sick in order to recuperate himself. It wasn't something he looked forward to especially while he resided in a town full of dying people who needed him now more than ever. "Why are you doing this to yourself?" Maria harshly interrupted the lies that tried to spawn from Nathan's mouth. "I have known you for years and not once has crisis recovery been your forte. Why are we here Nathan? What did you do?"
Maria had never been one to hold back her feelings.. her thoughts. Even though Nathan could transform his skin into solid metal and shoot aether matter out of his hands she had always been the stronger of the two. He had the costume but she had the headstrong drive and stubbornness that pushed Nathan in the right direction. She was the ying to his yang and even though her omniscient power of always knowing when something was wrong drove Nathan crazy, he still loved her and would continue to love her until the day he died and because of that simple fact the truth escaped Nathan's lips for the first time that night. "I let him get away." Nathan finally let out. "I let Anthony Stark get away."
The soldiers started to feel their guns being pulled away before the fastest sprinter on the team ran up, grabbed the magnetic and dashed forward with it as around 5 guns trailed behind him, he had nearly escaped with the magnet before he was impaled by the guns that smashed into him horrendously killing him. However he had averted every-bodies guns being taken away from them that much, they had only just dropped onto the floor, But suddenly a Hulk of a creature smashed downwards attacking at the men killing around 10 of them instantly into a pile of blood. The other VRS members dived for their guns, picking them up before running backwards and firing blindly behind themselves, 80 troops all firing backwards crazy sending hundreds and hundreds of bullets flying into the three assailants as they dived into trenches that had been created by bombs from the previous war, some of them dived into vehicles as other simply fled into a radiated Forrest near-by and an abandoned building, all taking up aim and then systematically firing a volley of bullets at the three targets. The VRS had fled into a circle, so they had surrounded the 3 "attackers"
During this-time the VRS officer had simply fled, he knew this battle was not one he was going to win.