ctrlsaltdel

Noble Arms: The ASEAN War - Thread Three, the Darkest Hour

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SPC "Mikey" Rangel

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“Friendly incoming – no blue-on-blue.”

Mikey froze, Angel Duster in her hands but not yet aimed to deliver the next smoke grenade. The voice sounded familiar--and here, a familiar voice with an American accent could only be so many people. The young woman rolled onto an arm and swiveled her head around--the gesture a bit wild--looking for the "incoming" friendly. Her guess was confirmed a mere moment later, and in the present moment, whether her lack of surprise to Callie's sudden appearance displayed a surfeit or a deficit of composure was really anyone's guess.

“Specialist.”

"H-hi." She hiccuped out the greeting, but thankfully Callie seemed to have better things to do than listen to her stammer. Mikey's eyes tracked the view of the telescope--presumably the other woman's Noble Arm--reluctantly back to the chaos below. Those eyes went wide as she watched the handiwork written upon the riders. "They just fell apart," Mikey breathed, not even realizing she had spoken aloud. Her own destruction of the technical had taken a lot of prep, all told, and had been loud and--something in the back of her mind was screaming--messy. Callie had disabled over ten times as many vehicles in seconds--and a dark corner of Mikey's mind noted that she might not even have killed anyone in the process.

Mikey turned back to the other woman, mouth slightly ajar, as she heard Callie heave a breath of exertion.

“Any orders in effect? If we need evac –”

Before Mikey could speak up, the radio crackled to life.

""All-zzzt-Police units, plus Callie - take the motorbikers into custody; do not-zzzt-them escape! Mike-zzzt-bserve the remaining Technicals as they drive thr-zzzt-tell Nil where and what to shoot! Archer-zzzt-to the breaches on the western fence and cut off their rou-zzzt"

Her first thought was, Oh, thank god, Griff's ok.

Mikey shook her head, took a deep breath, and grabbed the radio. "A-affirmative, your highness. Over. She released the talk key and waved the radio at Callie. "So you just heard all the orders I've got right now. All I know at the moment is we're under attack." Fuck, what information was she supposed to include in her report? "Number of hostiles unknown. One hostile Arms Master, um, neutralized? Fewer vehicles now, I think there are still about three technicals with mounted guns. Uh, sorry--uh, I've gotta... yeah."

She grimaced--Christ, even under current circumstances she was embarassed to look that uncool in front of Callie--rolled back on her stomach, and used a pair of binoculars to peer over the edge of the roof. The technicals had starting moving forward into the camp proper, leaving their disabled sibling behind and pushing the crowd forward--both with the mounted guns and by the simple expedient of driving into them where they were too close to shoot.

Mikey was silent for as she took it all in. For a long moment, she didn't even take a breath. Finally she let out a long, ragged exhale; her inhale was shaky as she keyed the radio, her voice flat, almost robotic.

"Nil, right?" Another breath, this one steadier. "Three targets. All thinly armored. The crowd is heading your way, so watch your fire. There's a big truck about twenty meters to your six o'clock. True to her word, there was an M35 cargo truck parked behind the group on the ground; the soldiers who had used it to haul supplies to the camp had abandoned it when the shooting started, but its roof stood almost three meters off the ground. "You may be able to use that as a vantage point." Mikey resumed her prone shooting position, the barrel of her gun tracking down--"Targets are approaching from the west--first target is at your two o'clock, seventy meters."--past the northernmost technical she had just called out to Nil, until the second technical sat between the metal sightposts. The truck wasn't moving quickly--it literally couldn't, in the cramped confines of the camp--and it was barely more than a hundred and fifty feet away from her perch at this point. Mikey took an extra moment to aim before firing, four rounds rapid, at the man on the mounted gun.

Eidolon: Conspiracy Theory

<Snipped quote by ctrlsaltdel>

If I'd prefer not to control the NPC, would you be willing to play that part?

@rush99999

Not a problem! Seems to me like a good time to draw for the downtime activity as well--this is your Call In a Favor, right?

I Am Thou: A Persona/SMT Inspired Story

Amaranthe Foreste

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Her eyes began to flutter open, and Ami let them. She had never been a morning person, and she had learned that the best way to deal with getting up early was just to rip the bandaid off and do it. She grabbed her phone without looking and checked the time: 06:15. Yeah, no time to go back to sleep.

The apartment--and the city around her--was still quiet at this early hour, and as she got ready for the day, Ami's movements did as little as possible to disturb that near-silence. She slipped out of her bed and into a worn pair of jeans with the belt already in them, pulled on a thick work shirt, and with that still hanging loose padded out of the small room.

Ami watched herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. Sleep was slowly releasing its grip on her, and as she powered through to wakefulness, her mind started to put things in order.

To-Do

• Prep lunch for me and Tony
• Put in time-off request at work
• Pick up Tony's meds
• Survive the apocalypse
• Wait, what?

She coughed, choking for a second on her toothpaste, then rinsed.

Ami finished buttoning up her shirt as she walked into the kitchen. Making a beeline for the fridge, she set out few containers of food on the counter, then twisted the top off of a jug of orange juice. She drank heavily from that as she busied herself preparing two lunchboxes with leftovers.

As she put the food away, a piece of paper fell off of the fridge; Amaranthe bent down and found the printed schedule for her mother's new job. She had been set to work overnight; her shift didn't end for another couple of hours.

She looked down the hall, saw her mother's door was closed. Looked over at the key rack, saw her mother's keys hanging there.

Ami sighed, shook her head, and walked back over to her room. Against the opposite wall from where she slept, her brother still lay sleeping--a blonde, messy-haired teenager, wirier than his sister, but with a lot of filling out left to do. She smacked her hand hard against his headboard a couple of times; he started awake, groaned, and rolled over.

"Time to get up, Tony. Your lunch is packed, if you miss the bus it's your problem."

Another groan.

She walked out of the room--stopped at the door--turned around and looked at her brother. She started to say something, then turned and left.

(She grabbed her mother's keys on the way out, took the car key off of them.)

As she nosed the old Toyota out of the parking lot, Ami spotted the pack of cigarettes sitting in the cupholder. "Ah, fuck it." She took one, found her mother's lighter in the console, and lit it as she pulled onto the main road.

I Am Thou: A Persona/SMT Inspired Story

We did settle on this taking place in D.C., right?

ETA: Also started writing my post with Ami waking up at a specific time (6:15 AM), if that doesn't match up with what you have in mind @Bacon just let me know and I'll edit accordingly.

I Am Thou: A Persona/SMT Inspired Story

Yes, sorry, I was waiting to see if Meri was going to post, but I'm fine just advancing to the next scene, I don't thing Ami has much to add here.

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

Ijin, you look out on the city from your perch. Its structure unfolds before you: a pair of expressways form its borders to the north and east, funneling ground and air traffic to other parts of the city-moon in a steady pulse that looks slower than it actually is. Smaller vessels, carrying traffic into the sector, branch off from those arteries, and from them spread the capillary side-streets and alleyways snake into every nook and cranny.

It's one of those that you're in now. You take a minute to try and find the quickest route back to the landing pad where the Cerberus is waiting. Hm--what if they double back towards you?

Well, good news and bad news. Good news is, you do in fact see a way out for your comrades if they double back for a couple of blocks. It's not the quickest route, but if they're careful it should keep them away from the approaching cops. Bad news is, the fuzz is going to reach the rest of the crew before you can get to them, and what's more, you can see the radio signature of a patrol car headed your way, drawn in by the recent gunfire. You're going to have to make your own way back, and you had best get going now.

Quintus, the ur-bot squirms a bit as you shove it into your pack; it's not trying to fight you, there's just no graceful wait to be shoved into a bag. By contract, Cho-Tyrek is perhaps a bit less squirmy than you might want. He can just about hold his head up, but you're supporting most of his weight as you make your way to the groundcar.

Silas, as you turn in place looking for the best way out, you hear a shout from above. A figure leans out of a window, three stories above--a young man, pointing an accusing finger at you.

"Hey! Hey you! You fucking killed that guy!"

You're not sure what instinct spurred him to confront you, but his anger is clear even at this distance.

"They killed that guy and shot that kid! I saw it!"

Lights flicker on in a couple other windows; blinds are cracked. In the open window, a large hand reaches out, grabs the young man by the collar, and hauls him back inside; he shouts something you can't make out, then the window is slammed shut.

Molly, the ground car that Quintus has located for you is a nice one. Really nice, actually. It's no pleasure yacht, but it's definitely a vehicle worthy of your skills. And hey, the spare key is hidden right underneath the driver's door--sloppy, but good for you.

It's not until you start trying to get the vehicle up to speed that you realize it's the valet key, and that until you can figure something out, this sleek performance car is going to be about as fast as the noodle van you just demolished.

Clocks

Main Group Spotted By District Security: [ | | - - ]
Ijin Spotted By District Security: [ | | - - ]

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

ah, sorry, been meaning to write up a post--I'll get one in tonight.

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

How do I use a gambit does it just give me an extra dice?

@Penny

yep, that's exactly right

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

@ctrlsaltdel

What would I need to roll to locate another vehicle?

@Penny

Well, Quintus rolled a mixed success to find a vehicle already; I think what makes the most sense is for you to take a point of stress to assist and add a die to that roll, see if you can bump it up to a full success.

Alternatively--I think a good result for @POOHEAD189's roll would be for him to find a vehicle that you all can't immediately use (because you don't have the keys, etc)--which would give you a chance to use Hack or Helm to get it running.

Noble Arms: The ASEAN War - Thread Three, the Darkest Hour

SPC "Mikey" Rangel

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From her new vantage point, Mikey could see that the battle outside was not going as well as it should; the Corriente Family's thugs had put machine guns and armor plates onto four Toyota Pickup Trucks that had broken through the camp fence and offloading squads of well-armed militia, while motorcycle-riding gunmen - sixteen of them on Chinese-made vehicles, rode around shooting at anything and everything. Philippine Government of National Salvation forces were rallying, with Military Police and Regular Army and Police units organizing themselves into a cordon around the camp while others swept the area for infiltrators.

What can she do right now?

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As the prince ran up to him, a feather-light impact hit Griff's chest, and a handheld radio clattered to the ground. It immediately buzzed to life; Mikey's voice came through, crackly and distant, but the strain in her voice could still be heard through the tinny speaker.

-kzzt- "Griff! Griff, are you ok?!" A pause for breath, and her tone became more professional, though her voice still wavered. -kzzt- "Um, sorry, sir--uh, I mean, your highness? Specialist Rangel here. I have overwatch, on the building to your... southwest." Another pause. -kzzt- "Christ alive, there's a lot of them! Sorry, I mean... Counting four technicals, almost twenty smaller vehicles with armed riders following them through the perimeter breach to the west. No count on the... infiltrators, but each of those trucks is carrying an unknown number of armed soldiers." A shaky breath came through the speaker--her instructors would have chided her for bad radio discipline, but at the moment that was the furthest thing from her mind. -kzzt- "I guess Cristina is handling that Arms Master, so I'm going to do what I can from up here. Support incoming." Pause. -kzzt- "Sorry for leaving you behind, Griff. Uh, over."

Another gunshot rang out--one among many--and a gun case clattered to the ground at the Arms Masters' feet. It was branded "US Army", and inside were a Glock 19 pistol and FN SCAR rifle, with several loaded clips for each.

Atop the roof, Mikey let out a long breath. She wasn't missing the extra hardware, and one look at her would make it clear why. She lay prone at the edge of the roof, using the pack that she had pulled the radio from as a rifle rest for Angel Duster; she had pulled a flak vest from it as well, which she had donned over the Army t-shirt she had assumed would be sufficient protection for the day's activities. Her shotgun lay within easy reach to one side, where she had placed it once the enemy Arms Master was... neutralized? (She wasn't really sure what Cristina had done, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.) On the other side sat a pair of metal, military issue containers.

Ok, Mikey. She smacked her own face a couple of times, not as lightly as she intended; her hand as she pulled it away was slightly damp. Just like target practice. Load up, acquire target, aim, shoot. Load up, acquire target, aim, shoot. She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, steeling herself against the sounds of screaming refugees and gunfire, then suddenly opened them again and rolled to one side.

From the waiting containers, Mikey pulled out two grenades--one cylindrical, the other round. She took each in turn, pulling the pin and shooting them with Angel Duster to disappear them, then resumed her sniper's perch and aimed over at the closest technical as it began disgorging soldiers.

CRACK--her shot impacted the bed of the truck, next to the mounted gun, and the first grenade began belching thick white smoke in a cloud that quickly enveloped the area.

CRACK--another shot followed right on the heels of the first, aimed in the same spot, and as soon as the second grenade's impact fuse touched the ground it exploded, sending shrapnel flying in the vicinity of the truck, and hopefully killing or disabling the gunner.

Mikey had a short moment of gratitude that the smoke prevented her from seeing the results of her work before she grabbed another pair of grenades and prepared to fire again.