Tarran Smith
USE MY TOTALLY REAL RAGE AND MAKE ALL THE TARGETS SWISS CHEESE! AGAIN!
You once heard something about how anger clouded the mind and some crap like that, well loosening up and being calm certainly didn't do crap. Besides, you aren't sure you can stop being pissed right now if you wanted to. Once more you hit the Target call and prepare to fire. [Marksman 6+1, 2+1, 4+1, 4+1 Vs Difficulty 16] If the training gun was anything that could blow holes in stuff, there would be a steaming pile of slag in place of those targets. Huh, apparently whoever said "Don't Fight Angry." was a moron.
+2/8ths Marksman.
---
Dominique Wakeman & Trol GraneAfter a few minutes of intense staring - which she felt she was at a thorough disadvantage at, damn those shades! - the match was finally called. Dominique breathed a sigh of relief. She had felt him inside her mind, probing around, trying to break through her barriers, even as she was trying to do the same to him. She could only dimly recall catching a few of his memories; working at a casino, being in desperate gunfights... She wondered what he had picked up from her. Probably a bit of the repetition of her life; how every day it was move this, move that, beat down a punk who disrespected her.
She was glad he didn't get much further than that. Some of her thoughts and memories were purely hers. "Well, uh, that was certainly... strange," Dom said. She laughed a bit nervously and crossed her arms. "Wow. All right. D'you... wanna go a second round?" she suggested. If not, she'd go by the signifier's office and pick up her equipment; she would probably need it soon.
"Sure, rematch."
The two of you square of again for a rematch, taking a minute to catch you mental breath before starting again. [Dom A.Empathetics 5, 3, 3, 4] Vs [Trol A.Empathetics 4, 3, 3+1, 4+1] Once again the match is very close, with Trol only breaking down Dom's barriers by virtue of what he got out of orientation.
+1/8th Active Empathetics Trol, +1/8th Active Empathetics Dom
---
Taric Sizier........................
---
Jamie Teague[Observation roll 1] Can't find any of you.
---
James Evans....
......
........ Wha?
You wake up, lying on your side on a metal floor. Your hands are bound behind your back roughly, you can wiggle your fingers a little but the bonds are tight enough that you can feel your pulse throb in your wrists. As you start to come to the pain comes back, you can feel deep bruises on your chest and back, your jaw hurts like crazy and you can taste blood in your mouth.
You remember some things, refusing the orientation, a prisoner revolt in the facility, the Technocrats holing up in the Administration and Science wing. Your head is pounding though, and coherent thought isn't easy. You've been beaten several times, and you can't remember when you last ate or drank. Without peeling yourself off the floor you try and look around the room, it looks like one of the holding cells in the lower levels for patients undergoing experimentation judging by the total lack of ornamentation. You can see another person's knee, and it looks like they're as bound as you are.
This is not your day.
Health: 60/75
Stamina: 55/75
Carried Weight:25/150
Attire: Black jumpsuit, stained, torn, slightly bloody.
Inv:
Nothing but pocket lint.
Status: Wrists bound, in a Holding cell.
Author
Topic: Deviation-22. The End of All Things. (Read 538283 times)