[center][h3][color=tan]Courier 6[/color] and [color=orange]Ratchet[/color] and [color=sandybrown]Jak &[/color] [color=darkorange]Daxter[/color][/h3]
[b]Level 6[/b] - (21/60) EXP (+3),[b]Level 6[/b] - (10/60) (+3), [b]Level 4[/b] - (3/40) (+3)
[b]Location:[/b] Ancestral Farmstead
Dead Zone - Redgraccoon Police Department
[b]Word Count:[/b]1455
Courier Stress: 35[/center]

Jak had a small, barely noticeable grin that nonetheless held a large amount of joy, the kind of look you’d expect to find on someone who’s more than a little crazy. The yellow eco container attached to his morph gun filled up to the brim, giving him unlimited access to his gunplay once more. Now that’s what it’s all about! He couldn’t wait to try out this new harpoon setting courtesy of that felled angel. The discussion of radios to keep in touch barely registered over his enthusiasm for the new gun mode and unrestricted access to mowing down enemies. 

By contrast, Ratchet paid very close attention to what Captain Howard had to say. It made sense that someone from a world with vastly superior technology would overlook something as simple and primitive as a radio. Heck, Ratchet almost forgot to think of it himself! Good thing he had Clank to keep him on task. 

Then Jill, the officer at the computer, reported some news about a fight, not that they needed her confirmation. Gunshots were rather loud after all. Someone needed to get to some civilians and others needed to check out what was going on with that fight. Plus something about some pages taken by someone named Lucatiel, there was so much going on it was hard to keep it all together, wasn’t it? 

[color=sandybrown]”We’ll go to the West side for the civilians,”[/color] Jak said rather curtly.

Daxter shook his head surprised. [color=darkorange]”Go to the civilians? The safe job? Jak, buddy, not that I don’t appreciate it, but are you ok? Didn’t take one too many hits to the noggin?”[/color] Daxter knocked on his friend’s head a couple times. [color=darkorange]”Why aren’t you jumping at the chance to throw us into the most dangerous, deadly situation?”[/color]

Jak shook his head. [color=sandybrown]”You heard him. Killer’s blending in with the civilians.”[/color]

Daxter audibly gulped, then comically fell to the floor. Jak practically had to drag his little buddy by the leg before Daxter willingly got up and walked on his own power.

[color=orange]”I’m heading for the fight,”[/color] Ratchet added. [color=orange]”If this guy wants to kill some more, there’s a good chance he’s causing the ruckus. Besides, we need those pages from Lucatiel.”[/color]

Then Blazermate offered to come with, and asked if Ratchet could carry them both. [color=orange]”Sure, Clank mostly stays in spirit form until I need him anyway, and I’m pretty strong.”[/color] He hefted up his large omniwrench to show off before stowing it away again. [color=orange]”Anybody is welcome to come with me.”[/color]

With that, the lombax was off.

[hr][hr]

The hit was a big success! The brachydios showered blood down from its neck, tons of shotgun pellets opening a large wound where the monster would have one of its largest, most crucial veins! The cherry on top was an extra hit that Linkle struck into the wound, unexpected and uncalculated for on the Courier’s part but a boon nonetheless! If the group were smart, they’d know all they had to do was to pull back and let the monster bleed to death. Honestly it wouldn’t take long, maybe a few minutes at most and it’d grow weaker, slower, and more tired the whole way through. Pulling back was the safest, most prudent option.

So of course everyone did the exact opposite of that! Not like the thought occurred to the Courier himself, being a crazy wild card and all. Where’s the fun in dropping such a big monster through those sorts of tactics? Naw, he intended to be close enough to see it draw its last breath and that meant he had a front row seat to watching the damn thing get all kinds of messed up by the makeshift minefield he and his donphan had made (which was completely intentional and not accidental in any way whatsoever, everything went perfectly according to plan). What happened next though? Definitely not in the plan.

The brachydios went on a rampage and charged, with the Courier right in its path! It wasn’t an intentional attack on him, the beast was simply crazed at this point, but that hardly mattered in the slightest. Under normal circumstances he couldn’t beat the monster in a foot race. Only one thing could save him: another dose of Turbo courtesy of the GRX implant. But with only 3 doses left and 24 hours to refill, could he risk it against future challenges? Well he couldn’t exactly risk getting stomped into paste here, could he?

Unfortunately activating the GRX was a process that required concentration and took a second to kick in, time that he didn’t have. Everything turned to slow motion, but not from the chem in his brain. It was the sensation of time slowing when one realizes they are in mortal peril. The brachydios’s large front claw slammed against his torso with a sickening [i]crack[/i] and the Courier went tumbling away. His duster, more durable than it looked, and his sub-dermal armor protected him from being outright killed, but only just. He coughed up blood and groaned despite the pain, a sensation he practically lived with by now, and forced himself up by the palms of his hands. The Courier gazed upon the battlefield for his animals and quickly caught sight of them. Drumstick was keeping her distance, only a mount and not a trained combat animal. Ivories followed through on its last order and pursued any remaining husks. The proud donphan with a warrior’s heart had caught sight of the horse-like monster attacking their sniper and was rolling at high speed to slam into it.

[color=tan]”Ugh… Come out… Bug… Foot.”[/color] In a flash of light the heracross emerged from its pokeball, ready to help.

“Hera! Cross cross! Heracross!” It pounded its bug-fists together ready for a fight, but quickly was taken aback by the sight of its trainer. “Heracross?” it said both confused and worried.

[color=tan]”Help me up.”[/color] Bugfoot immediately set to do so, grabbing the Courier by his shoulders and lifting him to his feet. The Courier then used this extra stability to grab two items from his bag: a stimpack in one hand, and the Equalizer pickaxe. It’s special properties immediately filled him with incredible strength, allowing him to stand all his own again. [color=tan]”Thanks. I got it from here…”[/color] he trailed off, staring the brachydios in the eye.

“Heracross!” Bugfoot gave a heartfelt salute with a giant smile (as much as a bug can smile) before vanishing back into his pokeball. 

What happened next was rather unexpected. The koopa wizard Kamek came by, casting his gigantification spell on the Courier. Woah, he suddenly got… Big. Huh. The feeling, it was, well, it didn’t dull the incredibly pain he fought through but that’s what the stimpack was for. [color=tan]”Much obliged, pardner,”[/color] he said before glaring back at the brachydios one last time. [color=tan]”HEY VARMINT! HOW’S ABOUT YOU CHECK OUT MY BIG IRON?”[/color]

And with that the Courier charged forth, screaming bloody murder. It didn’t matter that he had cracked ribs or internal bleeding. It didn’t matter that even with the gigantification was was still a fair bit smaller than the monster. Self preservation? He lost that instinct a long time ago, already a walking dead man. Right now he was just a courier with a message, and that message was thus: In the wasteland, you don’t [i]fuck[/i] with the mailman!

Courier 6 closed the gap, pickaxe in hand. [i]GRX implant activated: 2 doses remain.[/i] He swung the Equalizer hard as he could at the monster’s head, then again and again and again. His swings were untrained, but they were brutal and they were powerful. A couple swings weren’t angled right and bounced off the creature’s armored hide, but more made their mark until finally he only had one more swing’s worth of turbo-time left. He brought it up from under, aiming to embed the pickaxe into the open wound his shotgun made. He swung with such force that he broke the handle, rendering the weapon utterly worthless. Time returned to normal, his strength reduced to nearly nothing in the face of his injuries, and the Courier injected himself with the stimpack before bleeding out.

The wiggler hat activated, spreading the stimpack’s healing qualities to the posse all around, skipping over the brachydios itself. It wasn’t going to completely heal the Courier of his wounds, but if the damn thing survived then he’d at least be able to tango with it again.