Diva, from Aeons Torn
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If blood is the currency of life, then what's its tax collection service?
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Post by Diva, from Aeons Torn on Aug 20, 2013 11:43:47 GMT -8
Deep within a magical looking forest with thick tree trunks, on that planet with a screwy name, with those animals who love trees and so happen to cancel out the Force. The terrain is sloppy and uneven as massive tree roots, outcroppings, boulders, and even a stream or two bisect the shady hills —offering plenty of cover, concealment, and even a quick escape or two. Here and there about the area are corpses, some badly mangled, of Mando troopers and their effects. Nobody has bothered to collect the equipment, so all types of ordinance and battle treasure dots the landscape, some jammed, some depleted, but even more just begging to be scooped up and used on the fly. Soon, dusk will settle in a hush.
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Ak-Akari Obachu
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Still the proud holder of the "Most Losing-est Judge of the GBA" Award
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Post by Ak-Akari Obachu on Aug 20, 2013 18:01:26 GMT -8
Ak-Akari came too in a small clearing and rubbed his head. First thing he noticed as he wracked his mind for details was that the Force was completely out. He knew the Force was never gone, but there were things that could cause a bubble of incredibly unchangeable Force energy that might as well be the same thing to a man like himself. Whatever was going on, he would have to fall back on his null force training, which while not insignificant was not anything he had ever really wanted to have to use.
Dwelling on his lost abilities was useless though, so he focused on something more useful, like how he got here. Last thing he remembered was being on his way to rejoin the GBA council after some personal business, and suddenly his ship crash landed. He had been thrown clear of the ship, but details after that were fuzzy. Gathering himself up, he pulled himself to his feet and assessed his situation.
By some miracle he found that he was completely unharmed, and not only that, he felt completely rested and rejuvenated. Which was odd, but considering he HAD been on GBA business it likely meant one thing:
"Dammit Eralam! How many times do I have to tell you, you don't have to sabotage my ship, you can just ask me to go!"
He sighed and started gathering up his equipment from the ground, glad that he was wearing his armour. The armour itself was capable of changing colours according to it's environment, which while it didn't compare to a cloaking device it did make sure he always had military level professional camouflaging with just the push of a button. Next was his pistols, which he shoved into his holsters cursing slightly. Those wouldn't be the ace in the hole that they normally were, as the custom made unstable cores couldn't be easily detonated without his own personal insight into their construction and the use of Force Combustion. Still, stun pistols could be of many uses, so it wasn't a total loss. Then he check his light spear, extending the shaft once, then collapsing it again to make sure it was working, not bothering to check the blade itself. Finally he strapped on the grenade belt, ensuring that the assortment of two flash bangs, two sonic decoys, and two frags were on his belt. Oh and the deployable holoprojector was there as well, whose inner workings would simply hurt his head to think about without further provocation.
He stretched his limbs and got ready to head out on a jog.
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Diva, from Aeons Torn
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If blood is the currency of life, then what's its tax collection service?
Posts: 799
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Post by Diva, from Aeons Torn on Aug 21, 2013 14:41:36 GMT -8
Was it someone new? Oh, she could just wear him like a sheet, feeling the lining of his raw skin slip-sliding on her milky white demonically enhanced flesh. Cover Girl had nothing on her. Hell, those bitches wore makeup.
The Diva needs no make-up, needs no hair care product.
All she needed was desert, and this new comer -looking oddly familiar like she may have spoken to him politely in one of the myriad multiverses- looked like the perfect nightcap to mark the coming night.
"*giggle*"
She jumps from her a perch in a mighty birch tree, spins like a dancer on crack throughout the air, and lands with a smile like a true kitten, 10 meters right in front of the wandering man.
"Can I kill you? Puuhhhhhhhhhleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?"
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Ak-Akari Obachu
Member
Still the proud holder of the "Most Losing-est Judge of the GBA" Award
Posts: 150
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Ak-Akari Obachu on Aug 21, 2013 18:01:41 GMT -8
Ak-Akari came to a stop the instant the obviously crazy woman jumped down in front of him. He'd been expecting a fight, but this was a little more than what even he had thought. Well, if he had to fight a psychotic killing machine, he might as well be grateful she asked nicely. Being polite always made these things go soooo much nicer, if still a little bit hazardous for one's health.
"Only if you promise to send my middle fingers in a box to Eralam. He'll understand." He said, as he pulled out his spear, extending the shaft to full length. He intended to use the heavy metal shaft as a stave for fighting, knowing that using the blade was incredibly dangerous without the enhanced reflexes the force gave him. It wasn't as bad as a true lightsaber since it had the weight of the whole shaft to work with, but it still was a little nasty.
"I'm assuming you don't just want me to lie down and let you slit my throat right? More fun if I fight back or something like that?"
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Diva, from Aeons Torn
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If blood is the currency of life, then what's its tax collection service?
Posts: 799
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Post by Diva, from Aeons Torn on Aug 27, 2013 8:51:32 GMT -8
The "girl's" teeth bare as she giggles in a mock execution of bashful playfulness, and as Ak prepared his weapon, she made her hands dive downward and underneath the sides of her pleated skirt. As he finished his sentence, she pulls out and levels two MAC 10 submachine pistols towards the latest soon to be victim, and with a coy smile, she responds to his little quip with one of her own.
"Oooooooo, I love when they whip it out right at the start.
We're comparing reach, am'a'aright?
Size don't matter, but reach? That does!
BYE!"
32 rounds of 9mm caliber bullets, fired at roughly 1,023 rounds per minute, which translates into a little over one second of constant fire doled out with hellish expectation. Oh, and this wasn't her first dance, if he dodged or weaved, she would continue to track and fire out the magazines -not pepper the air space he was currently standing in like some idiot. The end? Non, but from the sound of her laughter over the twin buzz saws spitting out superheated brass casings, she thought it was a great first test.
!RATATATATATATATATATATAT!
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