9 Nov 2016 3:15 9 Nov 2016 5:34
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@Athinar

The foreman turned around to see who had addressed him. It was a foreigner, lanky and gawking, with thick spectacles and bad teeth. Of course. These types just couldn't keep their noses out of this. Foreman Louie had been commissioned by the board to make this city a place that people could live in again, and naturally some big corporation wanted the zone for another biomechanics factory instead. Well, not on his watch, not as long as the taxpayer's money was fueling his paycheck. The foreman stomped up to the foreigner and stared him hard in the face, hairy fists on his hips. The two were out in the midst of the massive dirt field, in full view of the entire project. Several baseball diamonds could have been drawn out in the arid dirt surrounding them. Plumes of dust rose from a few hundred yards away as the wall of a crumbling apartment was shoved down by a laser bulldozer. Yes, bulldozers with lasers. Why the hell not?

"I know what you're here for, moron, and you can take it and put it right up your asshole. Get the hell off-"

The newcomer interrupted, his voice a wheedling guttural mutter. He sounded almost like Mr. Bean.

"Oh dear... Are you threatening me?"

The foreman brought both fists up in front of Xil Gil's eyes, knuckles cracking.

"And if I am? I told you to get the hell out of here. Not you, or any of those other cronies will be fucking up my day job."

Xil Gil glanced around, protruding front teeth sucking on his bottom lip. Several workers were watching, most of the rest weren't. This sort of thing had probably occurred more than a few times before. At any rate, they were witnesses. The foreman had just delivered a threat. Surely this meant one could be justified in fearing for their well-being. In the name of self defense, Xil Gil took a sudden, sharp step forwards and embraced the foreman, taking him into a bear hug as if he were an old friend.

"Wha-, get the fuck off me you slimy little faggot! I'll- AAAAAAUUUUUGGGGHHH!! EEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"

Insults became agonized bellows. Bellows transitioned into high pitched monkey screams. With a curt twist, Xil Gil finished separating the foreman's upper thoracic vertebrae from his lumbar, before efficiently pulling most of the man's spine from his back, ribs and muscles snapping as unstoppably powerful fingers clipped them as easily as pericardial shears.

"Sorry old horse. You were going to hurt me, weren't you?"
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9 Nov 2016 4:28
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Athinar Tell me a story of seas sunless.

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"... and that's how I saved Rio de Janeiro from the Eight Syndicates of 2050." The workmen around him clapped, cheering him on. It was a story they had all heard before as children, how the War Wolf of the Brasil Republique had gone on many adventures in his life. Hell, he was a legend, a real-life Captain America. He had comic books, movies, and novels written about him. It was pretty flattering, if Chico were to be honest.

If America weren't an oligarchy which in no way resembled its' founding values now- anyways, that was neither here nor there. Taking a sip of water from the cooler they were all drinking from, Chico prepared to tell another story, back from the 1990's, when he had assisted the Colombian Confederacy in their American-Backed 'War on Drugs', when a scream split the dusty air of the reconstruction site.

Immediately throwing his helmet back on, feeling the familiar pressurized hiss of the internal oxygen filters purifying the air in his lungs, and the HUD came alive, marking all of the construction workers within a 1000 meter radius with blue dots, and showing Chico that there was a foreign presence about 10 meters away, and three stories down. Sprinting forward, Chico leapt from the edge, and free-fell through the air, getting a complete view of the situation.

Some stereotypically British doof of a salaryman had just ripped out the foreman for this sector's spine. That was one indication that he was more than human, but his EAS (Electric Ambiance Sensor) confirmed it. This guy glowed like a HyperChristmas tree, evidence of some scramblers, which meant a cyborg, because there was no way that he had the means to scramble ECM and rip out a man's spine otherwise.

Landing in the superhero position, Chico grabbed his SCAR off its' position on his lower back, and whipped it around quicker than the eye can see, pointing it at the cyborg's center mass.

"Sir, I don't know who you are, but if you don't stand down and surrender, you and I are going to have quite a bit of fun before I put you six feet under." Xil Gil couldn't see his smile, but Chico was grinning wildly. "And believe me, I want you to try something. It's been so long since I had a good fight."

As soon as the cyborg opened his mouth, Chico fired, letting loose at full automatic at the doofy-looking murderer.
9 Nov 2016 6:05 9 Nov 2016 6:15
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Xil Gil had indeed been about to say something, having even begun twirling an index finger to accentuate some snobby remark. He then staggered back as bullets pounded against his body, maroon blood spattering from multiple skin-deep holes. His designer coat and undershirt were torn apart as easily as tissue paper, revealing a skinny but unusually chistled upper body criss-crossed in at least two-dozen places by long suture scars.

That kind of rifle could rip a normal man's arm off. Xil Gil, not even close to normal, began quickly pacing towards Chico, the crableg latching mechanisms on his feet digging into the ground and preventing the hail of hot lead from throwing him off balance. As he did so he extended both arms, palms open and in the rifle's line of fire.
He could tough out plenty of gunfire, but if enough bullets were to nail him, it could eventually start damaging his composite muscle fibers. Xil Gil's hands, though, were virtually invulnerable to bullets. They had to be, in order to allow him to squeeze nearly any material into putty.

He'd track Chico's aim with his hands as if they were a pair of tiny shields, trying to take as much heat away from his body as he could. There weren't any sparks, no. That's only in the movies. Instead it looked as if dozens of white smoke puffs were erupting from Xil Gil's hands.

All the while the cyborg slipped closer, he kept trying to yell something over the thunderous noise.


"SELF-DEFENSE!! SELF-DEFENSE!! I AM UPHOLDING MY RIGHT AS A CITIZEN OF THIS FINE STATE TO DEFEND MYSELF!!"

Yes. It was true. This was all taking place in Florida. Still a shit place in the future.

9 Nov 2016 6:44
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@Doc Doctor Chico saw the thin spray of blood as his bullets hit center mass, and smiled. So he could be hurt by bullets. He wasn't some sort of invincible tank. Then, he raised his hands, and Chico frowned. White puffs of smoke, like hitting sandbags or armored plate. Alternating his aim towards different parts of the man's body, the man managed to track the bullets. Interesting. So he had enhanced reflexes, like Chico, and unlike Chico, had armor focused on his hands. Well then, it seemed that he would have to rectify that situation.

Holding the SCAR steady in his right hand, and continuing to fire, Chico reached around his back, and grabbed the H-MAC, leveling it at the ground in front of the British cyborg. "Pretty sure that's not how the law works when you kill someone unprovoked, pendejo!"

Holding down the trigger, Chico unloaded the H-MAC into the ground, 12 grenades exploding in the span of two seconds.
9 Nov 2016 7:46
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When Chico took a hand off his rifle, Xil Gil broke into a dead sprint. Up until that point he had just been power walking. He wasn't super fast, but he wasn't a slacker neither. By the time the grenade launcher had been aimed, Xil Gil would be less than three yards away. He wasn't focusing on blocking the bullets anymore, knowing that the recoil would be too unpredictable to bother with.

Of course, Xil Gil hadn't known a grenade launcher was involved. He saw an opponent reach for something and decided to try and make a rush. When the cyborg saw what was now being pointed in his direction, his expression shifted from that of malignant confidence to jaw dropping surprise and dismay.


"CHRIST IT'S A BLOODY CANNON!!"

Both would be in the explosive range of the grenades, but should Chico be crazy-assed enough to fire anyways, Xil Gil would have an answer. Of course, there being so little time to react, the cyborg would do this anyways. A gamble. His lead foot would bury itself in the ground and latch on, knee bending, center of gravity dropping, momentum screeching to a near instant stop. No vanilla human could have possibly replicated it. Should Chico have been leading his shots, then instead of firing right directly in front of Xil Gil the grenades would land further away and forwards. At the same time then Xil Gil would leap backwards from the brief crouch he had entered during his momentum cancellation.

If that all came to pass, Xil Gil would be knocked further back by the detonations and great clouds of dust and debris would obscure what had happened to him.

Now, if Chico held off on firing, he'd see the derpy killer suddenly stop and jump back out of reflex, conveniently providing the soldier with a safer opening to fire grenades.
9 Nov 2016 17:36
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@Doc Doctor Chico didn't get where he was by being unprofessional. However, when the man flinched and jumped back, he almost bent over laughing. "Amor de cristo, homem! It's only a fuckin' grenade launcher! Calm your tits!"

However, even as he said this, he backed away quickly, opening fire with the SCAR once more, aimed at his chest. This was a distraction, because when the man blocked with his hands, he would fire twice at his feet, hopefully launching him into the air.
9 Nov 2016 19:25 9 Nov 2016 19:37
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It'd be about the time Chico started talking again that his rifle magazine probably ran empty. 30 rounds available at 600 rpm. That's three seconds of continuous fire.

A ringing silence. Xil Gil darting again towards the retreating Chico, the fresh twelve feet between them diminishing quickly. The average female marathon runner can cover 6 feet, 8 inches per stride. Xil Gil was no professional runner, but a marathon isn't a sprint and he was a man, not a woman. He'd cross four feet with his first lunge and five with the second, resuming the chase the moment he was able to gather the momentum to fling himself at Chico again after having leapt backwards. "Your load is spent, old horse. Unfortunately I am in the mood for sloppy seconds..."

To cross twelve feet in about a second, you need to be able to run but a paltry eight miles per hour. Even a fat child could make that cut, let alone an ex-MI6 agent.

He'd be knocking at the Mexican's front door in that second, and Chico would have only a fraction of a moment to choose a plan. Would he face the brutal cyborg head on and risk blowing himself up or being ground into taco beef? Might Chico beat a hasty retreat and try to keep Xil Gil at bay?

Thing is, there'd be no need for such a tight decision. Xil Gil was suddenly blindsided by four workmen, absolutely bowled over as the angry, large men tackled him to the ground and began beating on him with carpentry hammers.


"Augh! Bugger me!"
9 Nov 2016 21:10
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@Doc Doctor Chico tossed the battle rifle aside as the empty chamber clicked, for in a close-quarters fight, you'd not have any opportunity to reload. Frowning, he backed up as the cyborg approached.

The euphemism was pretty ham-handed, but Chico didn't care. He was about to fire, when out of nowhere, four workmen approached the fight, coming within the grenade launcher's blast radius. Slinging it on his back, he swapped out to the SAW, and leveled it at the man.

Then, out of nowhere, the four workers tackled him to the ground, beating on the twit with hammers. Damn it, what were they doing? They'd get themselves killed.

"Hey, hey, hey, back up! I've got this, you just stand back!" The workers stopped, never taking their eyes off the cyborg, staring at him resentfully. Apparently the foreman had been fairly popular among the laborers.

Approaching the cyborg on the ground, LMG pointed at him, Chico had his finger on the trigger, ready to fire at the slightest twitch. "You now have two options, mijo de puta, surrender, or die. Give me one reason to fire."
10 Nov 2016 4:42 10 Nov 2016 4:48
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"A reason? Are you quite serious!? I am an official here on important business, who was first assaulted by a foreman and now some brute. Have you any idea who I am?"

Xil Gil spread his arms out and lay on his back, scowling.

"Go on then. Left pocket. Take out my wallet and have a look, unless you trust me not to whip out a pistol. If you feel it necessary, then ask and I can turn off my cybernetics. Hmph! My employers will be thoroughly dissatisfied with your antics."
10 Nov 2016 5:18
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@Doc Doctor The man thought himself important. Well, he'd have to disappoint the man, for he wasn't.

Walking forward and placing a foot on the man's chest, Chico rested the barrel of the SAW on the man's forehead, finger on the trigger, and bending down, reached into the man's left pocket. Hopefully he would try something. Then he could end this smarmy bastard.
10 Nov 2016 8:42 11 Nov 2016 3:18
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The moment Chico began lowering his foot onto Xil Gil's chest, right when his weight and balance shifted, the cyborg attacked.
He had a striking advantage that most wouldn't consider. Normally when one strikes, one must have solidity behind the blow, crooking stiff the elbow for a hook or straightening the arm for a cross.

Xil Gil did not punch, but slap, and as such had no need to worry about a practical position or power behind his blows. It wasn't the impact that hurt, it was when he grabbed on. A loose left arm whipped in fast to smack against Chico's lower shin, fingers automatically snapping closed to smush armor and bone alike, in the way an empty soda can is crushed. There was a good reason the cyborg was so dangerous despite having no guns. What kind of shit could he do? Check out the previews.



At the same time so did Xil Gil's right, set to seize the barrel of the machine gun whilst it was in the process of being manouvered to his forehead.

One can lie in bed, spread eagle style, and then dart both hands in as if to grasp an invisible sword protruding from the chest. No holding back now. Surprisingly quick, more so than most would guess.
Chico likely expected such a trick, but as Mike Tyson once said, "Everyone's got a plan until they get hit."

Even so, Chico could react faster than other humans. He'd probably have time to squeeze off some fire before the gun barrel was turned into a half pretzel and give back some good damage. Xil Gil had laughed off machine guns before, but the monster Chico was holding had the caliber of guns normally mounted into the sides of helicopter gunships. All of Xil Gil's metal muscles powered his hands, and his bones were tough enough to stand the pressures that the muscles exerted. Roughly two-million pounds of static force packed into a man six feet tall. He could survive the SAW.

But...

It could at least harshly lacerate or dent in parts of his frame, which would bring down his grip strength. Xil Gil was used to being able to instantly crush shit. If he took real damage, say from a badass motherfucking anti-armor machine gun, it'd mess him up to the point where he'd require three to seven seconds to destroy a single piece of Chico's armor.
14 Nov 2016 6:00
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Athinar Tell me a story of seas sunless.

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@Doc Doctor Chico had expected the man to grab his leg and the SAW's barrel, yes, but he didn't expect him to move so quick, even with the wired reflexes of a cyborg. His leg was quickly grabbed, but as soon as the man began to move, his finger, with reflexes tempered on thousands of battlefields, pulled the trigger, getting off 10 rounds in the half-second before the barrel was crumpled, aimed at the Englishman's chest.

Whether his leg was crushed or not, the SAW's barrel was, and Chico let go of the gun, leaving his hands free. Grabbing down at the Englishman's head, Chico was prepared to grab and twist the first thing that his hands came into contact with, reaching over the ruined SAW.
14 Nov 2016 17:37
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Most of the skin on Xil Gil's right pectoral and arm was more or less vaporized. The ultra-fine striations of the metal muscles beneath were dented in in some places and given multiple hairline ruptures in others, the muscle strands that snapped doing so with extraordinarily loud popping sounds, like dozens of m80s going off. Chico's leg would probably break in the cyborg's grip, but before Xil Gil could utterly smush what he was holding into paste, his body hitched up and his grip faltered, giving Chico a chance to escape. When Xil Gil's body took damage, he not only had his grip strength weakened but he also lost a slight degree of control, at least temporarily until his systems adjusted to the new structural power balance. It'd only take a second, but in combat a second is a long time.

Should Chico still want to grab at Xil Gil's head, he'd be able to do so but in a moment the cyborg's left hand would flick up in an attempt to snatch the mercenary by his right arm at the elbow. As for what Chico could effectively twist? Well, he could probably twist Xil Gil's nose and ears real good, which would only hurt a little bit. Xil Gil had pain receptors, but they were very dull.
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