The giant’s conversation had gone south. Really south. The Wizard wasn’t caught off guard, though. In fact he had already taken a few steps to prepare for the worse, thinking it obvious that they knew of Pride’s betrayal. Afterall, the entire island was being filmed at all times. But even still, the huge veteran had managed to stall them with argument for a good thirteen seconds, and in that time Oliver had managed to scan the situation in explicit detail.
When the metaphorical ‘shit’ hit the fan, Oliver pounced; carefully fringing the coilgun’s range of fire, as he had noted it to have a rotational arc of 50 degrees. Sliding across the sandy road, he summoned what energy he had left. The white ‘magic’ was projectile-vomited all over the quartet of armed assailants, out from his chest. The chi-shotgun hit its marks … well, two of them. They fell over, unconscious, as Jackson leapt over their dead bodies.
Darting toward a guard like a horizontal lightning bolt, the titan through a jab and it connected like a sledgehammer, while the last guard made for the railcannon. With the stricken guard slouched over his arm, it was easy to use him as a human-sized projectile. The body flew—fwoosh—through the air, and landed on the femme fatale just as she climbed the side of the buggy. Jackson smirked at the results, brushing himself off.
“So much for your plan, ya big lug,” came Oliver’s commentary, “buttt… we’re alive, and that’s what mat—Huh … you’re kidding.“ It was the appearance of the girls that had interrupted his dialogue. Finally, something had caught him by surprise. Walking out from the vehicle were Sage and Ashe. The crystalline-haired girl stopped dead in her tracks. ‘She’s alive…’ Oliver thought to himself, and maybe she could hear him. ‘…maybe this isn’t Hell after all.’
---
It wasn’t ten minutes later that Oliver, Jackson, Sage, and Ashe were barreling through Olde Town in the combat jeep. Since then, the amateur doctor had managed to do some serious work on the pair of juggernauts. Even though they were struck with euphoria, their pain was going away and they were starting to feel alive again. “Hey.. er… girl!” Oliver yelled over the noise of explosions, all the while maneuvering the vehicle violently out of the way of enemy gunshots. “Uh… thanks.” He said, as genuine as he could manage.
Sage was only just processing the comment when the driver took a hard right around a corner. She bumped her head into a window and Oliver cursed. It was a one way street and they were going to fast to…
“We’re—,“ he started, succumbing to the inevitable, “—gonna crash.” And he was just feeling better too.
---
When Oliver came to he could taste drywall. In his attempt to sit up, he pushed a few hundred pounds of splintered plywood off. Simultaneous with his awakening, was Jackson’s own, who had more obstacles to blast away before he could clear the damage. That crash hadn’t gone as smoothly as planned, Wizard admitted. But he could hear their voices. The others… had they made it out okay?
Oliver moved toward the light. Not far from him, the large ebony man beating on the two women. He had moved his attention to Sage, to bust up her ‘pretty mouth’, when the Wizard stepped out from the collapsed building. The old man’s eyes lit up like those of a western gunslinger and fell upon the mighty Balrog. Rage boiled through his biceps, bulging blue and violet veins out of aging white skin. His vision was a little hazy from the morphine, but good enough to make his mark. The targeting axis fell on the Lieutenant.
---
Meanwhile, Zena and Ares stormed through the streets; drawn out of their shelter and toward the cries. The quarter-saiyan warrioress thought she recognized one of the howls. She cringed at the thought, as her jogging made the transition into a full-blown sprint. “If it’s her … if she’s being hurt.”
They turned a corner towards the commotion and everything popped out at them, like some sadistic children’s book. Bullets were flying about, and energy attacks too. There was a miniature war taking place in Olde Town and they were missing it. Ashe licked his lips at the sight, eager to take in some action; but something … someone had given Zena some pause. A chill ran up her spine, chilling her to the core. It was her: Sage.
It took a few seconds to register, but when it did, it was like throwing a match in an oil pool. There, not too far from where she stood, a giant of a man was beating down on her poor little sister. Sage was helpless it seemed, weeping as she took blow after blow. Anger consumed every inch of Zena, the aspiring hashshashin, and she didn’t let this image set in another instant. With a battlecry, she blasted down the block, arms slung back ready-to-strike.
---
Without hesitation, Oliver kicked off from a pile of debris toward the black hulk. He would strike him down before he could do anymore damage.
“Nash, wait! That won’t work on him, he’s too powerf—,” informed the tanned Hercules that had taken Wizard’s side. But it was too late…
“Shocking... first… BULLET!”
A geyser of energy burst forth from the man’s backside, projecting the white-haired Wizard toward his sadistic enemy. He travelled with uncanny precision, like a homing missile, fist thrust forward to conquer Balrog, when…
…he caught it.
The old man stopped mid-air, and was held a few above the ground by the monstrous Lieutenant, with his fist caught in the beast’s clutches. There was a sickening crunch as he applied pressure. Afterwards he spun around like a tornado and tossed Oliver Nash into the sky. A quick wave of energy succeeded this action, hammering the veteran in the chest, so hard that it took him further skyward.
So high, that he flew out of sight.
---
The enraged Zena continued onward with unwavering resolve. Not only was he hurting her sister, but she was still feeling his rocket launcher. And nothing was more powerful than a woman scorned.
“Face me and die you bastard!”
It only took her a few more seconds to reach the man, whom—distracted by his ordeal with Nash—was caught unawares … by a sharp kick to the head. It knocked him back a few feet, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised. His eyes were wide at the strength of this weak female. Perhaps it had been a fluke? He tested this when he lunged to strike her. She answered with a flurry of fists and kicks, which shook his iron stance.
“Z-Zena!” Sage called out, tears welling up in her eyes. “You’re…”
“Go, damnit! Get out and take her with you.”
“But—“
“GO!”
Bitter and frustrated, but obedient, she took Ashe’s hand and the two got some distance from Balrog and the girl. Sage knew that her sister knew best, despite her instinct to protest. If Zena died fighting for her, she wouldn’t know what to-- … she turned around, breaking free of the pink-haired woman’s grip. “Sister, I can’t!”
---
Oliver found himself in a pearl room, and he was almost blinded by the light that surrounded him.
“Back again, are you?”
He looked up, confused … angry … but mostly confused. There he saw that persistent son of a bitch, the ‘man in white’, all glamorously clad in a vanilla-cream tuxedo as if constantly at a Governor’s Ball. He was smirking, as always, his face familiarly hidden under a veil of shadow. He sat at a glass table, upon which was a board-game: Chess. Thoughtfully, he moved the White Queen against the Black Rook.
“What was it this time, saving a damsel in distress? Give me a break. You pull more stunts like that, you and me are going to be spending a hell-of-a lot more time together…” he explained, “and believe me, you’re too ugly to be my butler. Therefore, I think this decision is best-left with the cards, don’t you?”
He pulled from his pocket a deck of cards, which we scattered across the table, knocking over the chess pieces.
“Who…?”
“Who am I? Hah, that should be obvious by now. I’m Death, Oliver. Come on, detective, I’m sure you have a better question up your sleeve.”
He pulled two cards from the pile. The first was the Magician, upright.
“Why?” he queried, “Why do you keep saving me?”
“Ah, there you have it. The million dollar question…” he dragged on, mysteriously, “…quite a mystery, indeed.”
He flipped the second card. Death, upright.
“Oh, the luck you have, Mr. Nash! Until next time—“
---
Light. White light. And then … blue skies?
Oliver’s eyes were pried open by forces unknown, salvaging him once again. He looked around and the sight was phenomenal. He was so high, that he was touching the clouds; and it wasn’t just the morphine! Birds cawed not fifty feet from where he soared, while his body still steamed from the impact. Colors filled the atmosphere in a way that just wasn’t possible. Until, something interrupted his euphoria…
GRAVITY.
In an instant, the force that had initially been driving him upwards had lost momentum, giving way to the forces of nature and gravity. There was a heavy pull on his body that felt like it might tear him apart; comparable to if his legs were chain-linked to transports. He yelled at the top of his lungs, not that many or any could hear it up here, as he was driven downwards. His cheeks flapped at the G-forces and his eyelids were bulled back. Oliver could have sworn his skin was catching on fire as he embraced the air resistance.
Even though his body was aching, and his bones were quaking, he could start to see an island. And then … Olde Town; though he couldn’t make out anything specific. They were on an island? He tried to put his analytical mind to use but something was in the way.
That’s when he felt that familiar fire, the unnatural kind, welling up inside him. The rage that had been shut down by the one they called ‘Balrog’. He remembered what had made him so angry. The man was beating on a girl, no older than twenty. Her name was Sage and she had saved him once. Now, it was time to save her.
He could still feel it: his mark on the man. Despite the planetary forces that were fighting him now, he still had a score to settle, and that’s what provoked the arm moment. Gravity protested, but he managed to cock it back, getting ready to fire.
A rare shade of spring green burst from his back in a fountain of energy, much like it had before. There was a hiccup of sound, launching him downward.
While others caught a glimpse of Oliver Nash before impact, Kaden had sensed him far earlier. He rushed past Balrog in a flash of cerulean, grabbing the fighter—Zena—and her sister too. He summoned all the speed his legs could muster to take them outside the bullseye. Catching on, the mighty Lieutenant tiled his head upward, just in time for…
“Annihilatingsecondbullet!”
K A B O O O M
When the metaphorical ‘shit’ hit the fan, Oliver pounced; carefully fringing the coilgun’s range of fire, as he had noted it to have a rotational arc of 50 degrees. Sliding across the sandy road, he summoned what energy he had left. The white ‘magic’ was projectile-vomited all over the quartet of armed assailants, out from his chest. The chi-shotgun hit its marks … well, two of them. They fell over, unconscious, as Jackson leapt over their dead bodies.
Darting toward a guard like a horizontal lightning bolt, the titan through a jab and it connected like a sledgehammer, while the last guard made for the railcannon. With the stricken guard slouched over his arm, it was easy to use him as a human-sized projectile. The body flew—fwoosh—through the air, and landed on the femme fatale just as she climbed the side of the buggy. Jackson smirked at the results, brushing himself off.
“So much for your plan, ya big lug,” came Oliver’s commentary, “buttt… we’re alive, and that’s what mat—Huh … you’re kidding.“ It was the appearance of the girls that had interrupted his dialogue. Finally, something had caught him by surprise. Walking out from the vehicle were Sage and Ashe. The crystalline-haired girl stopped dead in her tracks. ‘She’s alive…’ Oliver thought to himself, and maybe she could hear him. ‘…maybe this isn’t Hell after all.’
---
It wasn’t ten minutes later that Oliver, Jackson, Sage, and Ashe were barreling through Olde Town in the combat jeep. Since then, the amateur doctor had managed to do some serious work on the pair of juggernauts. Even though they were struck with euphoria, their pain was going away and they were starting to feel alive again. “Hey.. er… girl!” Oliver yelled over the noise of explosions, all the while maneuvering the vehicle violently out of the way of enemy gunshots. “Uh… thanks.” He said, as genuine as he could manage.
Sage was only just processing the comment when the driver took a hard right around a corner. She bumped her head into a window and Oliver cursed. It was a one way street and they were going to fast to…
“We’re—,“ he started, succumbing to the inevitable, “—gonna crash.” And he was just feeling better too.
---
When Oliver came to he could taste drywall. In his attempt to sit up, he pushed a few hundred pounds of splintered plywood off. Simultaneous with his awakening, was Jackson’s own, who had more obstacles to blast away before he could clear the damage. That crash hadn’t gone as smoothly as planned, Wizard admitted. But he could hear their voices. The others… had they made it out okay?
Oliver moved toward the light. Not far from him, the large ebony man beating on the two women. He had moved his attention to Sage, to bust up her ‘pretty mouth’, when the Wizard stepped out from the collapsed building. The old man’s eyes lit up like those of a western gunslinger and fell upon the mighty Balrog. Rage boiled through his biceps, bulging blue and violet veins out of aging white skin. His vision was a little hazy from the morphine, but good enough to make his mark. The targeting axis fell on the Lieutenant.
---
Meanwhile, Zena and Ares stormed through the streets; drawn out of their shelter and toward the cries. The quarter-saiyan warrioress thought she recognized one of the howls. She cringed at the thought, as her jogging made the transition into a full-blown sprint. “If it’s her … if she’s being hurt.”
They turned a corner towards the commotion and everything popped out at them, like some sadistic children’s book. Bullets were flying about, and energy attacks too. There was a miniature war taking place in Olde Town and they were missing it. Ashe licked his lips at the sight, eager to take in some action; but something … someone had given Zena some pause. A chill ran up her spine, chilling her to the core. It was her: Sage.
It took a few seconds to register, but when it did, it was like throwing a match in an oil pool. There, not too far from where she stood, a giant of a man was beating down on her poor little sister. Sage was helpless it seemed, weeping as she took blow after blow. Anger consumed every inch of Zena, the aspiring hashshashin, and she didn’t let this image set in another instant. With a battlecry, she blasted down the block, arms slung back ready-to-strike.
---
Without hesitation, Oliver kicked off from a pile of debris toward the black hulk. He would strike him down before he could do anymore damage.
“Nash, wait! That won’t work on him, he’s too powerf—,” informed the tanned Hercules that had taken Wizard’s side. But it was too late…
“Shocking... first… BULLET!”
A geyser of energy burst forth from the man’s backside, projecting the white-haired Wizard toward his sadistic enemy. He travelled with uncanny precision, like a homing missile, fist thrust forward to conquer Balrog, when…
…he caught it.
The old man stopped mid-air, and was held a few above the ground by the monstrous Lieutenant, with his fist caught in the beast’s clutches. There was a sickening crunch as he applied pressure. Afterwards he spun around like a tornado and tossed Oliver Nash into the sky. A quick wave of energy succeeded this action, hammering the veteran in the chest, so hard that it took him further skyward.
So high, that he flew out of sight.
---
The enraged Zena continued onward with unwavering resolve. Not only was he hurting her sister, but she was still feeling his rocket launcher. And nothing was more powerful than a woman scorned.
“Face me and die you bastard!”
It only took her a few more seconds to reach the man, whom—distracted by his ordeal with Nash—was caught unawares … by a sharp kick to the head. It knocked him back a few feet, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised. His eyes were wide at the strength of this weak female. Perhaps it had been a fluke? He tested this when he lunged to strike her. She answered with a flurry of fists and kicks, which shook his iron stance.
“Z-Zena!” Sage called out, tears welling up in her eyes. “You’re…”
“Go, damnit! Get out and take her with you.”
“But—“
“GO!”
Bitter and frustrated, but obedient, she took Ashe’s hand and the two got some distance from Balrog and the girl. Sage knew that her sister knew best, despite her instinct to protest. If Zena died fighting for her, she wouldn’t know what to-- … she turned around, breaking free of the pink-haired woman’s grip. “Sister, I can’t!”
---
Oliver found himself in a pearl room, and he was almost blinded by the light that surrounded him.
“Back again, are you?”
He looked up, confused … angry … but mostly confused. There he saw that persistent son of a bitch, the ‘man in white’, all glamorously clad in a vanilla-cream tuxedo as if constantly at a Governor’s Ball. He was smirking, as always, his face familiarly hidden under a veil of shadow. He sat at a glass table, upon which was a board-game: Chess. Thoughtfully, he moved the White Queen against the Black Rook.
“What was it this time, saving a damsel in distress? Give me a break. You pull more stunts like that, you and me are going to be spending a hell-of-a lot more time together…” he explained, “and believe me, you’re too ugly to be my butler. Therefore, I think this decision is best-left with the cards, don’t you?”
He pulled from his pocket a deck of cards, which we scattered across the table, knocking over the chess pieces.
“Who…?”
“Who am I? Hah, that should be obvious by now. I’m Death, Oliver. Come on, detective, I’m sure you have a better question up your sleeve.”
He pulled two cards from the pile. The first was the Magician, upright.
“Why?” he queried, “Why do you keep saving me?”
“Ah, there you have it. The million dollar question…” he dragged on, mysteriously, “…quite a mystery, indeed.”
He flipped the second card. Death, upright.
“Oh, the luck you have, Mr. Nash! Until next time—“
---
Light. White light. And then … blue skies?
Oliver’s eyes were pried open by forces unknown, salvaging him once again. He looked around and the sight was phenomenal. He was so high, that he was touching the clouds; and it wasn’t just the morphine! Birds cawed not fifty feet from where he soared, while his body still steamed from the impact. Colors filled the atmosphere in a way that just wasn’t possible. Until, something interrupted his euphoria…
GRAVITY.
In an instant, the force that had initially been driving him upwards had lost momentum, giving way to the forces of nature and gravity. There was a heavy pull on his body that felt like it might tear him apart; comparable to if his legs were chain-linked to transports. He yelled at the top of his lungs, not that many or any could hear it up here, as he was driven downwards. His cheeks flapped at the G-forces and his eyelids were bulled back. Oliver could have sworn his skin was catching on fire as he embraced the air resistance.
Even though his body was aching, and his bones were quaking, he could start to see an island. And then … Olde Town; though he couldn’t make out anything specific. They were on an island? He tried to put his analytical mind to use but something was in the way.
That’s when he felt that familiar fire, the unnatural kind, welling up inside him. The rage that had been shut down by the one they called ‘Balrog’. He remembered what had made him so angry. The man was beating on a girl, no older than twenty. Her name was Sage and she had saved him once. Now, it was time to save her.
He could still feel it: his mark on the man. Despite the planetary forces that were fighting him now, he still had a score to settle, and that’s what provoked the arm moment. Gravity protested, but he managed to cock it back, getting ready to fire.
A rare shade of spring green burst from his back in a fountain of energy, much like it had before. There was a hiccup of sound, launching him downward.
While others caught a glimpse of Oliver Nash before impact, Kaden had sensed him far earlier. He rushed past Balrog in a flash of cerulean, grabbing the fighter—Zena—and her sister too. He summoned all the speed his legs could muster to take them outside the bullseye. Catching on, the mighty Lieutenant tiled his head upward, just in time for…
“Annihilatingsecondbullet!”
K A B O O O M
[SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]
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