Avatar of MelonHead
  • Last Seen: 1 yr ago
  • Joined: 12 yrs ago
  • Posts: 4353 (0.96 / day)
  • VMs: 1
  • Username history
    1. MelonHead 12 yrs ago
  • Latest 10 profile visitors:

Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

Mostly given up on this post by post business

Most Recent Posts

The Mech broke through the ashy crust of the earth with each metallic step, finding purchase on the hard rock beneath. Fire shot up on each side of the large twelve foot walker as its monitoring screen pointed out warnings all around its pilot, somewhat pointing out the obvious in Higan’s opinion. The Ramor at the wheel so to speak had a 180 degree view of the world in front of him, and his Mech’s computer systems were tracking his target continuously adjusting for minute changes in the surrounding environment. Ultimately, the Ramor was more than well equipped to catch his foe, but taking him down had proven difficult thus far.

Higan’s A.S.P, or Armoured Support Platform, was equipped with both a 105mm rifled tank gun, 40mm anti-material rifle, and a Chaingun for suppression. He wasn’t particularly well stocked up on ammo, as his mech played a scouting role primarily and was not expected to remain in combat for extended periods, but such fire power should be more than enough for one… man.

He thought of his quarry as a man with some hesitation, Intel on the anomaly was low at best and Ramor had recently been exposed to a great many super-natural forces recently. Like most militaristic governments, the Grent Republic had decided to shoot first, dissect and ask questions later. Hence why Higan had been sent to deal with one such anomaly, some kind of heavily armoured humanoid with the ability to spew fire like the Draconicas of Ramor legend.

“Warning, target sighted.” The grating mechanical voice which served as his vocalised computer system on his Mech announced his opponent’s presence before it was possible for he himself to spot him. Automatic zoom features activated, revealing the figure of an armoured man holding some sort of circular object. He was standing about two hundred feet away in the middle of the rocky volcanic valley they both seemed to be stuck in, without any particularly prominent cover nearby, unless he could reach the walls of the volcanic river basin which stood about one hundred feet to either side of him.

“Well, to work then.” Higan said rather cheerfully, considering the implications, his grinning bearded form looking a little like a stereotypical Dwarf by human standards. He was equipped in standard Piloting gear, with a pistol and light body armour, as well as a knife if he needed it. He hadn’t even considered that though, if things got that dire he was probably screwed.

The Mech lifted its heavy left arm, 40mm anti-material rifle suspended below, automatic targeting systems locking onto Saanga and preparing to make the tiny manipulations required to keep bullets trailing directly at his centre of mass.

“Fire.” Higan said, allowing his Mech to open up engagements for the time being, the Rifle began to spew out heavy calibre armour piercing rounds at his foe’s centre of mass, firing a round every three seconds, Saanga would have to move fast or risk testing his armours durability against superior technology.
Also love the name.
Yeah, I've never felt quite so motivated for conflict before now.
Any comments?
Well, GG Rilla.

My tournament fight is three quarters of the way to being as long as this fight and it hasn't even started.
If one was looking at the Ramor particularly carefully they may have noted a slight tensing of his muscles as he peered out into the clearing. That small reaction was all that Jok made as his target seemed to fly into what he was guessing was the very centre of the island and then stopped.

Is it really going to be this easy? He thought to himself fervently, slowly adjusting his aim to compensate for the distance between him and his opponent’s location, which was negligible but still a concern for his silenced sub-machine gun. Considering he had positioned himself at the far northern edge of his forested region he was incredibly close to his foe, perhaps thirty or forty feet at most, which would serve him well considering his comparative lack of range with his current equipment.

He waited for a few moments, seeing if his foe would move suddenly or reveal the trap he presumed they were setting. His gun was trained on them the whole time, his finger now hovering over the trigger. His shock at seeing what seemed to be a flying human was palpable, but unnoticeable on the surface...
The funny thing is, this battle is linked to Rilla's reputation and his character, the Liason, if it doesn't happen both will look bad ^_^
Try a few years in Mississippi, mate. Hot as balls, wet as fuck, stormy as hell, dangerous weather, flooding constantly, dangerous fauna, crazy drug fiends, and worst of all? Boring.

It was so god damn boring in Mississippi.


There has never been someone who has come to the -ENTIRE- of England, and said they enjoyed the weather.

Some states are hot or cold, but England is perpetually shit.
Mmm... giant pink thing.

Shame England's weather always sucks, we drink cider and beer to drown our sorrows.
© 2007-2026
BBCode Cheatsheet