LimeyPanda

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

If no one else posts, I'll be posting tonight: in about 6-7 hours.

Naruto: The alternative.

I don't see the logic for me getting upset at you.

I can, however, see the logic of consulting your other Rp partner.

Naruto: The alternative.

As your friendly outsider looking in, I think it might be apt to offer my #2cents

You are early enough into the plot and with a big enough change in the numbers that you could easily just reboot the entire thing with one or two more people. If you want to keep the Jounin an NPC, you can hunt down one person, otherwise you can hunt down two.

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

MelonHead said
Well, there would be two of us shooting him.Do you feel confident fighting in excess of two super-wolves?

If Brovo is DM-ing, I make a habit not to get anywhere close to even thinking about confident.

That man does terrible things in Nuffle's name...

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

Do you feel confident dealing with a guy who has a chainsword which is slicing through the plate of a heavy APC?

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

Raen, just a small note: Kiku doesn't really do cocky...More Childish and perhaps a little brash than anything else. If it came across as cocky, then I probably didn't write it clearly enough: so my apologies.

Imagine the kid at school who shouts dibs on stuff left behind somewhere. She means nothing aggressive towards you, just a sort of 'ooh, that's shiny and I kind of want it' sort of reaction.

Nothing important, just wanted to try and paint Kiku slightly differently. I might make an edit if I can see where you might have got the 'cocky/Arrogant/Tone of superiority' feeling from.

Edit: I gave the 'Twinkle-toes' paragraph a little edit, just to make my intentions a little clearer. The bulk of it is the same, she just adds a little extra at the end, and I describe her demeanor a bit more. Hope that clears up any misconceptions.

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

I think everyone except myself charged into the fog to some degree, so you aren't the only one in danger.

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

Daniel Anders

---

Much as he predicted, his flock proceeded to do stupid act after stupid act. All three of them were eager to engulf themselves in the fog without as much as a glimmer of common sense. He recalled a girl that came to his congregation: very young thing that had no interest in god and more interest in one of his sheep. Even if she was a hungry wolf, she had seemed interested in an almost child-like way to the sermons Daniel gave.

The reason he remembered the strange girl now, was the fact that she’d turned accidentally invisible from the hips down. If a listener could do that, what would a full blown mutant do?

The lord must have been testing Daniel, and he refused to fail in his task. The two Non-pilots advanced towards the APC, and Brucie followed suit after radioing Daniel himself. The Australian heretic was apparently asking him to act the proverbial wingman, and Daniel would oblige. He may have spoken gutter-slang and pseudo-words, but he was proving the most sensible of the trio of allies Daniel had on hand.

“I’ll cover you, Heathen. Just don’t go nuts with your flamethrowers yet.”

Daniel reached up and flicked a switch on his main monitor, switching his main scanning package over to the Infrared scanner. He wanted to get that done before Brucie started acting the fire-worshipping savage that he was, and it might give him enough time to stop Nathaniel and Chris from walking into a death-trap.

In the meantime, Daniel started allocating some power towards the sprint module, keeping it ready for a quick movement. Battle would come soon, and Daniel would need to close the gap in an instant if he was to save as many of the flock as possible. Preping the Sprint Module’s burst of speed could be the difference between one of the squishy pair below being smeared by a Mutant or Daniel smearing a mutant on the end of his powerfist. Daniel gave a small kiss to the hanging Rosario beads in his cockpit, before speaking out loud a passage of the scripture.

“If you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God's wrath on the wrongdoer.”

---

Kiku

---

Kiku found herself liking this group of individuals very much: because none of them spoke too much, or complicated things with shit like ‘moral duty’ or ‘obligation’ or stuff like that. They said smart stuff, or they said nothing at all. That shit flew by Kiku. It was the ‘Get shit done’ mentality!

For a moment though, Kiku’s eyes dwelled upon the masked-ninja lady. If she didn’t know better, Kiku could swear that the woman was giving her the eyes or something. Did she bat for the other team? Kiku hadn’t really thought about a woman like that in a long ass time, and now probably wasn’t the best time to start thinking about poontang, but still…Flattery got you far.

“Right then, twinkle toes…” She seemed to almost sing out the words as she pointed at the guy with the sword. Her face, still visable through the translucent gas-mask, bore a big, happy smile. She wore her feelings on her sleeves, did Kiku. After a second of thinking, she realised she actually had no reason to call him Twinkle toes, except the notion that he just seemed like a twinkle-toes. “…Just thought it’d be fair to warn ya. If you die, I call dibs on the sword, M’kay? It’s pretty...Not that I plan to shank you or anything, then you'd never be able to tell me where you got it! How boring would that be?” With nothing left to say, Kiku giggled before her entire body shimmer out of existence.

Camouflage was a fun mutation because it basically let you cheat if you were good with Close-quarters combat. Nothing wins a knife fight better than the other guy not having his knife out, and being sneaky-sneaky meant that 60% of the time, she didn’t have to fight anyone…100% of the time! The fact that even her clothing shifted colour and form to match the background was a bonus: imagine how inconvenient having to strip every time you wanted to go invisible would be?

Kiku was the first down the stairs, her spines seeming to ‘taste’ the air as she led the descent down to the 9th floor. She withdrew both her daggers and paused at the first set of rooms: one on the left, one on the right. She had to make sure that they could clear each room silently, and that meant hitting both sides at the same time. If they didn’t, one might turn around to see its buddy with a knife in its throat. That always spooked people.

She used her black knife to point at Kai, indicating he should take the rooms on the left hand side, before slinking to the edge of the room’s entrance and peeked inside. The room itself was a tip. It used to be nice. That much was obvious from the large bed; the person sized broken mirror frame and the large window. In one corner of the room, a skeletal body was lounging in a chair: covered in ripped grubby rags and wearing an oversized pair of dusty-ass sunglasses. Maybe that person used to be a celebrity or something, who knows.

From a single glance, she hadn’t seen much: but then again, if a mutant was set up, it could be as camouflaged as she was. She waited for Kai to get into position before she moved into the room. If they didn’t do this at the same time, the jig could be up real quick: and she didn’t want this to devolve into a shooting contest. She’d already admitted she was a pretty bad shot.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Hell hath no fury...

Peace Keepers

The creature known as Pye had often left Bushi confused and ponderous. The way she hid behind the angel construct: it reminded him of his time as a Kami. Feeling the world second-hand, being known only by the form you experience the world in...She was the spirit behind the Peacekeeper's base. She was like the headquarters’ own godly spirit.

...and that was a lonely life, indeed.

The mission was explained quickly, and it was made quite shocking at that. It seemed they were under attack: and that knowledge had prompted the Air-headed one to bring Team Moon its equipment. Among the team, Bushi was unique in that he did not have to wear the uniform. Upon joining the group, and upon being informed of the uniform, Bushi had staunchly disagreed. Mia and Bushi were set to battle for the right to decide if he should wear the uniform, yet the elders had forbidden the pair from fighting again, on account of breaking the previous simulator room. Mia had made the mistake of offering Bushi the choice of competition...

Bushi chose a drinking competition, and despite Mia's impressive regenerative factor: she could not out-drink a god. He agreed to carry around the badge and the communicator, but nothing else that he did not wish to wear.

Instead of the white attire everyone else wore, Pink-haired-girl brought along an unusual for Bushi. It was a quiver of sorts: except instead of arrows, it held thirty metal poles. The metal poles were...well...remarkably ordinary looking. They were roughly the size of an arm, and had no discernible weaponised features. They looked more akin to the tools of a builder than a warrior.

The saving grace though, was when the pink haired one handed Bushi a wine gourd. The slightly sullen kami's face lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree, and he wrapped an arm around the Banshee's shoulders and brought her into a strong embrace. "Thank you, lass; you know how to make a man happy!"

Tying the gourd to his belt and slinging the quiver over his back, Bushi offered a nod to Mia, as she led the group to the Humvee. It was a quiet drive, and Bushi enjoyed the anticipation for a battle. It was a rare opportunity for Bushi to stretch his muscles, as it were. He would use the opportunity to show off in front of the new prince: since all he'd done so far is provide a convenient source of liquid.

Arriving at the building, the team began to ascend and soon, Mia asked Bushi to join her at point. It was the most common tactic among the group: Mia and Bushi would annihilate the majority of enemies; any stragglers were picked off by whoever was left. The lovely Kitsune offered support, and now the Prince-ling could do the same thing. Angel covered the other side of the group, in case there was a sneak up. He could at least hold his own, even if he was no match for Bushi or Mia in a fair fight. Thankfully, Angel rarely needed to fight fair.

The order was to put on gas masks, and Bushi slipped his on happily. One of the whole deals with his sentience is that he could suffer human injuries, to a certain extent. He needed to breath, just like everyone else: even if he didn't need to eat or drink. The mask wasn't overly restrictive to his breathing: and he suspected that it probably had some sort of handy feature or two. The Peacekeepers never seemed without a trick up their sleeves.

They reached floor thirty in what seemed like no time at all. Mia was taking the lead, as was her right. The leader called the shots, and she called them well. It started with fire-control, and then crowd control. It looked like a helpless bystander, but he wasn’t acting in pain or anything. Mia was moving forward before Bushi even noticed.

“Mia, wait!”

Too late. She was bitten by the creature and suddenly she was lashing out with the odd claw-blade she so favoured. More undead were pouring out of the woodworks and suddenly Bushi drew two metal poles from the quiver.

In his hands, the metal seemed to shimmer and shift. Soon, metal poles had become two short katanas. Bushi looked incredibly menacing with two swords in hand: so much so that he seemed to physically fill out his shirt slightly more. Just as Mia was lashing out at undead, Bushi surged towards the nearest creature: decapitating it and skewering a blade through the eye socket in less time than it took to slice bread.

He moved like a dervish: slicing through anything stupid enough to come close. After the forth undead, he had to leave a sword lodged inside its eye socket, only for Bushi to near-instantly replace the lost weapon with an axe. Again, Bushi’s body mass seemed to shift, as his muscles further filled out his clothing.

“This is a fun little first mission for the prince: Nice and easy!” As he spoke, he caved in an undead creature’s skull: creeping close to double digits now. He was grinning like the happiest of campers. Bushi enjoyed the blood-work far too much.