You're right. I need to work on my reading comprehension skills.
Polyphemus Member
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So our characters had five minutes and they didn't leave? That doesn't make much sense...
I assumed it was spent trying to unblock the exit. Also some time spent catching our breath, maybe kicking at the Warden a little more.
Karate Bastard had been premature in congratulating himself. When the Warden toppled and had been thoroughly pounded, he had assumed the fight was over. It gave him time to catch his breath (though of course a hard man like him wasn't out of breath at all), take stock of the others and make for the exit.
Then the robot had sprang back up and given him a bloody good thrashing, hitting him harder than he cared to admit. Enough to knock the wind of him. Bollocks to that. He would never admit it, but he had been slow to pick himself up, even in the critical moment while the Warden was standing shock-still. Thinking about the next move, maybe. Robots needed to think, right? At any rate, it seemed to direct less fire from its weaponry at him as he struggled to get up. The drongo probably no longer registered him as a threat after the beating it gave him.
A voice sounded in his head, telling him to grab the spinning whips. He shook his head, still groggy, still slow to react. But KB was galvanized into action when he saw the demonic behemoth and the white-skinned giant grab the spinning whips. The smell of ozone filled the air as the two subjected themselves to the crackling electric current. Brave. KB was forced to privately admit that was brave.
He grabbed the nunchaku in his hand, hurled them at the wasp-like waist of the towering robot. The cloth tether wrapped snugly around the axis, hopefully jamming whatever mechanism enabled it to keep spinning around. If his next move didn't pay off, having the Warden no longer spinning about might at least buy the others some time to react. He rushed forwards, already mentally preparing his attack.
There is a theory that every human being carries a certain amount of energy in their body. Call it ley, call it qi, call it whatever you want, but a skilled practitioner can harness this energy, focus it into a certain area, expend it all in a single attack. KB wasn't sure if he believed in qi, if these powerful strikes were better attributed to diligent exercise and muscle control.
No matter what, though, Karate Bastard did believe in the power of the strike he was about to launch. It was forbidden within the tai chi community for its frightening and lethal power, so naturally he utilized it every chance he could. He had used it to split boulders, overturn cars, send men hurtling twenty yards while their hearts exploded inside their chests. He was confident this strike would at least knock free the armor plating on the Warden's chest and leave the power core exposed.
"BUDDHA'S PALM!" Karate Bastard yelled by way of a kiai as he delivered the feared palm strike directly into the Warden's chestplate. All of his strength, physical and spiritual alike, went into this single powerful blow. Temporarily spent, he dropped to his knees, sweat pouring from his body and genuinely out of breath for the moment.
Then the robot had sprang back up and given him a bloody good thrashing, hitting him harder than he cared to admit. Enough to knock the wind of him. Bollocks to that. He would never admit it, but he had been slow to pick himself up, even in the critical moment while the Warden was standing shock-still. Thinking about the next move, maybe. Robots needed to think, right? At any rate, it seemed to direct less fire from its weaponry at him as he struggled to get up. The drongo probably no longer registered him as a threat after the beating it gave him.
A voice sounded in his head, telling him to grab the spinning whips. He shook his head, still groggy, still slow to react. But KB was galvanized into action when he saw the demonic behemoth and the white-skinned giant grab the spinning whips. The smell of ozone filled the air as the two subjected themselves to the crackling electric current. Brave. KB was forced to privately admit that was brave.
He grabbed the nunchaku in his hand, hurled them at the wasp-like waist of the towering robot. The cloth tether wrapped snugly around the axis, hopefully jamming whatever mechanism enabled it to keep spinning around. If his next move didn't pay off, having the Warden no longer spinning about might at least buy the others some time to react. He rushed forwards, already mentally preparing his attack.
There is a theory that every human being carries a certain amount of energy in their body. Call it ley, call it qi, call it whatever you want, but a skilled practitioner can harness this energy, focus it into a certain area, expend it all in a single attack. KB wasn't sure if he believed in qi, if these powerful strikes were better attributed to diligent exercise and muscle control.
No matter what, though, Karate Bastard did believe in the power of the strike he was about to launch. It was forbidden within the tai chi community for its frightening and lethal power, so naturally he utilized it every chance he could. He had used it to split boulders, overturn cars, send men hurtling twenty yards while their hearts exploded inside their chests. He was confident this strike would at least knock free the armor plating on the Warden's chest and leave the power core exposed.
"BUDDHA'S PALM!" Karate Bastard yelled by way of a kiai as he delivered the feared palm strike directly into the Warden's chestplate. All of his strength, physical and spiritual alike, went into this single powerful blow. Temporarily spent, he dropped to his knees, sweat pouring from his body and genuinely out of breath for the moment.
Alright, awesome, I'd say we've got enough people for a start. Watch this space, I'll try and get up an OOC before the weekend starts.
This is not closed by any means, I will still happily accept people!
This is not closed by any means, I will still happily accept people!
This is interesting as fuck, actually. I will keep my eye on this. I would love to play a US Marine of sorts, in charge of a squad-sized element, someone who has weathered conflict before. A badass, but I always do like to see that idea of cracks in characters which can shake things up. I've done plenty of military-themed RPs, but this seems to take a fresh new take on the genre, and if I must say, the political slant of it too of questionable morality makes it ever more exiting.
I'm glad to hear you like the idea! My thinking is that El Presidente is kinda a piece of shit- corrupt, takes bribes, orders human rights abuses. Cortes and his men aren't angels by any means, but the revolution is not entirely unjustified.
You could be the Head of Security for the mission- as I'm sure you're aware, the Marines are tasked with security for embassies.
1. That's my mistake, I must have misread something. Rereading the CS, no mention is made of his nationality. Where is Falcon from exactly?
2. Yes, that's protected by the Eighth Amendment, in the majority of cases prisoners have the right to receive newspapers or other outside information. Depriving them of news of the outside world is considered "cruel and unusual punishment" which is expressly forbidden. Additionally, KB only got into prison very recently, he's been there a few months as opposed to years, so I feel it's entirely probable that he would have a fleeting familiarity with the case.
My apologies for my mistake, I'll fix that up.
2. Yes, that's protected by the Eighth Amendment, in the majority of cases prisoners have the right to receive newspapers or other outside information. Depriving them of news of the outside world is considered "cruel and unusual punishment" which is expressly forbidden. Additionally, KB only got into prison very recently, he's been there a few months as opposed to years, so I feel it's entirely probable that he would have a fleeting familiarity with the case.
My apologies for my mistake, I'll fix that up.
Also, I have to say I love that the fact that I ripped off a robot's arms and turned them into a traditional weapon is the LEAST bananas thing that is going on in this thread.
Good work everyone, pats on the back all around.
Good work everyone, pats on the back all around.
So, only seven of them had made it out. Now that the shaft had been sealed off and the lower floors were being flooded, it seemed like that would be the entirety of the jailbreak. Now, it was just a matter of getting past the Warden, another fucking drongo robot. Were real people just too expensive or something? KB shook his head. This monstrosity was all that stood between him and freedom.
The young lady had suddenly turned into a hulking horned beast and was now grappling with the Warden. Although KB was no strategic planner, he had been in enough fights to think clearly and calmly about his opponent's weaknesses. Deceit and analysis were vital skills. The other man, who looked kinda like that one millionaire who had been all over the news for some reason, seemed to be doing something to the robot, though what it was didn't seem immediately apparent. Some kind of hex, maybe.
A robot that big and heavily armored had to be very heavy. That meant strain on the joints, which had to accommodate this massive weight. As the two behemoths wrestled, Karate Bastard rushed forwards with a scream, nimbly dodging a thrashing whip and whirling the nunchaku he had improvised from the arms of one of the guards. With that, he launched a lightning fast flurry of strikes with his weapon, aiming primarily for the Warden's knees and ankles. If he could get the metal beast to fall or even stumble, it would allow the others to pile on and reduce the fucker to a pile of secondhand scrap. Assuming the others were any damn good. If not, Karate Bastard figured he would do all of the work himself, as he usually did.
The young lady had suddenly turned into a hulking horned beast and was now grappling with the Warden. Although KB was no strategic planner, he had been in enough fights to think clearly and calmly about his opponent's weaknesses. Deceit and analysis were vital skills. The other man, who looked kinda like that one millionaire who had been all over the news for some reason, seemed to be doing something to the robot, though what it was didn't seem immediately apparent. Some kind of hex, maybe.
A robot that big and heavily armored had to be very heavy. That meant strain on the joints, which had to accommodate this massive weight. As the two behemoths wrestled, Karate Bastard rushed forwards with a scream, nimbly dodging a thrashing whip and whirling the nunchaku he had improvised from the arms of one of the guards. With that, he launched a lightning fast flurry of strikes with his weapon, aiming primarily for the Warden's knees and ankles. If he could get the metal beast to fall or even stumble, it would allow the others to pile on and reduce the fucker to a pile of secondhand scrap. Assuming the others were any damn good. If not, Karate Bastard figured he would do all of the work himself, as he usually did.
Because when you think Russian, you think killer. It's all that anti commie brainwashing the western world puts you through.
I mainly just think of my drinking buddy Konstantin from college.
Why did they program the Warden to be a gloating Russian?
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