Vulkan Member
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- Vulkan 11 yrs ago
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Oooh...i am looking forward to how this goes.
Well, did my first post. Its pretty crap, but hopefully it should put across that Takuma is not the most coordinated chap in the world
@BeastofDestiny
Noticed your character has a "Sweet PC rig" My character plays on a PC too, want them to be gaming buddies?
@BeastofDestiny
Noticed your character has a "Sweet PC rig" My character plays on a PC too, want them to be gaming buddies?
Beep.
“Tired…”
Beep.
“Go away…”
Beep.
“Don’t want to!” said a voice from under a blanket, flicking his hand out to turn the clock off, but instead, his three fingers knocked it aside to the floor, knocking the battery out of the back. The slight exertion managed to put his senses back within the vicinity of his head, and slowly, a figure in a pair of pyjama shorts and an eyepatch crawled from under the sheets. He sat on the side of his bed, shaking his head from side to side to try and wake up more. After about a minute of it, he got up, suddenly regretting said shaking as he had now replaced tiredness with dizziness.
It was that point that he looked at the clock, and saw what time it was.
“Oh crap!” said Takuma, getting up and running to his wardrobe to try and find something to wear. After finding a uniform that wasn’t used, he ran around, wondering what he needed to do next before he loaded a load of things into his bag, hoping that some of it would actually need to be used that day.
“What day is it…damn, I can’t remember what I’m doing today…”
Pausing, he grabbed a chocolate bar from his desk, forced it down his throat like a headache pill, and ran out the door, dragging his bag behind him. He didn’t notice that he was wearing his shoes on the wrong feet, he had odd socks, and he hadn’t buttoned the top three buttons on his shirt. None of this bothered him as he ran out of the door, making his way towards the main building.
In his rush, it never dawned on him that, in his dizzy state, he had accidentally mixed the minute and hour hands on his clock.
“Tired…”
Beep.
“Go away…”
Beep.
“Don’t want to!” said a voice from under a blanket, flicking his hand out to turn the clock off, but instead, his three fingers knocked it aside to the floor, knocking the battery out of the back. The slight exertion managed to put his senses back within the vicinity of his head, and slowly, a figure in a pair of pyjama shorts and an eyepatch crawled from under the sheets. He sat on the side of his bed, shaking his head from side to side to try and wake up more. After about a minute of it, he got up, suddenly regretting said shaking as he had now replaced tiredness with dizziness.
It was that point that he looked at the clock, and saw what time it was.
“Oh crap!” said Takuma, getting up and running to his wardrobe to try and find something to wear. After finding a uniform that wasn’t used, he ran around, wondering what he needed to do next before he loaded a load of things into his bag, hoping that some of it would actually need to be used that day.
“What day is it…damn, I can’t remember what I’m doing today…”
Pausing, he grabbed a chocolate bar from his desk, forced it down his throat like a headache pill, and ran out the door, dragging his bag behind him. He didn’t notice that he was wearing his shoes on the wrong feet, he had odd socks, and he hadn’t buttoned the top three buttons on his shirt. None of this bothered him as he ran out of the door, making his way towards the main building.
In his rush, it never dawned on him that, in his dizzy state, he had accidentally mixed the minute and hour hands on his clock.
The attack has begun. Feel free to use the attacking soldiers as you will. The ones attacking on the ground are just militia, you can cut through them like wheat.
If you are with The Resistance/The Lost and are in the club, you might want to make your way to the basement. Ill explain why next post.
If you are with The Resistance/The Lost and are in the club, you might want to make your way to the basement. Ill explain why next post.
Far away from the nexus’s nightclub, there were a block of offices.
They looked relatively normal, exactly the same as any other block. Grey, square and tall with windows on each side, not unlike what a child might draw if you asked him to draw a big building. No one really knew what it was actually there for, but if you were to go in, you would find several security guards politely but firmly telling you to leave. Therefore, people simply forgot about it. It was hardly interesting.
However, no one noticed that the glass was completely bulletproof, the building was hooked up to one of the most advanced security systems in the city, and the guards were carrying five-seven handguns and several frag and smoke grenades.
Inside the building, in one of the rooms below ground, a woman in a three-piece suit stood at a bookcase, in a room that looked like something out of a billionaires hotel. The walls were completely white, with a roof that was covered in gold leaf around the edges. On the walls were several copies of famous paintings from the old civilisation. A group of sunflowers, a woman who strangely had no eyebrows, several paintings that seemed to make no sense.
The owner of this room preferred literature however. The art was there simply because she liked the feeling of the old civilizations greatest work around her.
The woman herself appeared to be in her late thirties, but a good look at her face would indicate that she was quite a bit older. A lot of work had gone towards making that face look younger. She was tall and fairly thin, but it was clear by the suit that she was quite well muscled.
She ran her hands over the book spines, reading the text on the sides as she did so. These works were completely uncensored, she hadn’t let anyone from the propaganda departments touch them. If she got bored and sold everything in this room, she could buy her own district.
Her thoughts were broken by the sound of a beeping noise. Forgetting about the books, she reached into her pocket, flicked a phone open and raised it to her ear.
“Yes?” she said quietly.
There was silence in the room, as the woman listened to what the person on the other side was saying.
“…he’s doing what?”
_______________________
Andrew was bored. The barman hadn’t come back to him, which led him to assume that his request for ice cream was not going to happen.
“Nexus don’t have ice cream…the red wolves were based out of a glorified shed at the beginning and even they had some!”
He sighed quietly when he remembered the wolves. They hadn’t deserved what had happened to them. No one did.
He was so trapped in his melancholic thoughts, he didn’t notice someone sit themselves down next to him. Andrew moved his head slightly, making sure to hide his face behind his hand. The person in question was pale, with brown hair that appeared quite messy.
"Hey there. You know, you ain't looking so good... Want me to get you a drink? On me."
"Oh god, hes talking to me! Hes not hitting on me is he? That’s happened before…Its always embarrassing…"
"No, he appears to just be friendly…"
“Um…” said Andrew, trying to hide his thoughts. “Im fine thank you. I…don’t drink. It makes things feel all funny.”
There was another pause.
“Um…sorry, I…er…have to go do something…” he stuttered again, getting up to leave.
_____________________________
Not far from the nightclub, on top of another roof, stood several New Order soldiers, dressed in the black armor with a white stripe that signified their unit.
One of them took a deep breath.
“Are you alright sir?” asked one soldier, looking up from a laptop.
The commander lifted his helmet over his head, tasting the pollutants in the air. He worked out a crick in his neck, and looked down. No one under his command knew exactly who he was, he was only known as “Delta”
The people of the section he worked for didn’t like their names being known. It was said that some of his fellow commanders had forgotten their names, and only answered to their tags.
“I…I don’t know if I should do this. I know that traitorous bastard might be in there, but…”
He looked down again. In the distance, he could see the blaring lights of his target.
“…no. Its for the new order. Its always been for the new order…I tracked the traitor, I sent the failed assassin…this is my fault. I have to fix it. No matter the cost.”
One soldier looked up with alarm.
“Sir! We have a confirmation from Nickel Matrix! Defences are weak!”
The commander looked up. “Give me a comlink to the entire force.”
The soldier tapped some keys on his laptop. “Done.”
“I have to do this…”
“All units, converge on the target! Leave no terrorist in there alive! For the new order!”
__________________________
Andrew was just excusing himself, when the doors of the club exploded.
They looked relatively normal, exactly the same as any other block. Grey, square and tall with windows on each side, not unlike what a child might draw if you asked him to draw a big building. No one really knew what it was actually there for, but if you were to go in, you would find several security guards politely but firmly telling you to leave. Therefore, people simply forgot about it. It was hardly interesting.
However, no one noticed that the glass was completely bulletproof, the building was hooked up to one of the most advanced security systems in the city, and the guards were carrying five-seven handguns and several frag and smoke grenades.
Inside the building, in one of the rooms below ground, a woman in a three-piece suit stood at a bookcase, in a room that looked like something out of a billionaires hotel. The walls were completely white, with a roof that was covered in gold leaf around the edges. On the walls were several copies of famous paintings from the old civilisation. A group of sunflowers, a woman who strangely had no eyebrows, several paintings that seemed to make no sense.
The owner of this room preferred literature however. The art was there simply because she liked the feeling of the old civilizations greatest work around her.
The woman herself appeared to be in her late thirties, but a good look at her face would indicate that she was quite a bit older. A lot of work had gone towards making that face look younger. She was tall and fairly thin, but it was clear by the suit that she was quite well muscled.
She ran her hands over the book spines, reading the text on the sides as she did so. These works were completely uncensored, she hadn’t let anyone from the propaganda departments touch them. If she got bored and sold everything in this room, she could buy her own district.
Her thoughts were broken by the sound of a beeping noise. Forgetting about the books, she reached into her pocket, flicked a phone open and raised it to her ear.
“Yes?” she said quietly.
There was silence in the room, as the woman listened to what the person on the other side was saying.
“…he’s doing what?”
_______________________
Andrew was bored. The barman hadn’t come back to him, which led him to assume that his request for ice cream was not going to happen.
“Nexus don’t have ice cream…the red wolves were based out of a glorified shed at the beginning and even they had some!”
He sighed quietly when he remembered the wolves. They hadn’t deserved what had happened to them. No one did.
He was so trapped in his melancholic thoughts, he didn’t notice someone sit themselves down next to him. Andrew moved his head slightly, making sure to hide his face behind his hand. The person in question was pale, with brown hair that appeared quite messy.
"Hey there. You know, you ain't looking so good... Want me to get you a drink? On me."
"Oh god, hes talking to me! Hes not hitting on me is he? That’s happened before…Its always embarrassing…"
"No, he appears to just be friendly…"
“Um…” said Andrew, trying to hide his thoughts. “Im fine thank you. I…don’t drink. It makes things feel all funny.”
There was another pause.
“Um…sorry, I…er…have to go do something…” he stuttered again, getting up to leave.
_____________________________
Not far from the nightclub, on top of another roof, stood several New Order soldiers, dressed in the black armor with a white stripe that signified their unit.
One of them took a deep breath.
“Are you alright sir?” asked one soldier, looking up from a laptop.
The commander lifted his helmet over his head, tasting the pollutants in the air. He worked out a crick in his neck, and looked down. No one under his command knew exactly who he was, he was only known as “Delta”
The people of the section he worked for didn’t like their names being known. It was said that some of his fellow commanders had forgotten their names, and only answered to their tags.
“I…I don’t know if I should do this. I know that traitorous bastard might be in there, but…”
He looked down again. In the distance, he could see the blaring lights of his target.
“…no. Its for the new order. Its always been for the new order…I tracked the traitor, I sent the failed assassin…this is my fault. I have to fix it. No matter the cost.”
One soldier looked up with alarm.
“Sir! We have a confirmation from Nickel Matrix! Defences are weak!”
The commander looked up. “Give me a comlink to the entire force.”
The soldier tapped some keys on his laptop. “Done.”
“I have to do this…”
“All units, converge on the target! Leave no terrorist in there alive! For the new order!”
__________________________
Andrew was just excusing himself, when the doors of the club exploded.
Lol, the more i wait, the harder it gets for me to post, but i still have no idea what to put so i dont look like an idiot compared to all these other, better posts.
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