arc_wrench
in
damned
Night 46: Sun Room
[from here]
And now it was time for the traditional cautious entry into the Sun Room, the old classic of carefully scanning the area for the enemy that will surprise you anyway, and then the venerable tradition of running in an attempt to not become very lumpy wallpaper.
HK had done this so many times by now, it at least felt like it deserved ( Read more... )
And now it was time for the traditional cautious entry into the Sun Room, the old classic of carefully scanning the area for the enemy that will surprise you anyway, and then the venerable tradition of running in an attempt to not become very lumpy wallpaper.
HK had done this so many times by now, it at least felt like it deserved ( Read more... )
This time when Red Sox opened fire, Scott was better ready for it. He rolled out of the way with a mental tap of the L2 button, avoiding the first shot aimed at him. He tightened his grip on the pipe he had, ready to dodge again and spring forward for another attack. Pushing off with his good foot again, Scott propelled himself forward like a human rocket, ready to wail on the guy's arm and knock the gun away.
The disadvantage to the intense acceleration, however, was that it became harder for Scott to divert his course quickly. Another bullet sped his way. Scott started veering to the right. He put too much pressure on his injured leg. With a hiss, he slowed for a split second. Bad move. The bullet tore through his right shoulder. Eyes widened. "SHITCOCK!" shouted the boy who normally shunned swearing.
It was too late to stop moving, however; he had built up too much momentum and gotten too close now. Gritting his teeth and furrowing his eyebrows in a way that would make the likes of Wolverine and Kenshiro proud, Scott pushed to close the rest of the distance. His arm was shrieking, but he ignored it, focusing on the flow of pure adrenaline instead. The thick pipe was raised over his head, then slammed down in the direction of the asshole's wrist. "Take THAT!"
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Either way, Sora had some catching up to do, especially when the guy they were fighting kept backing away. That was a good sign, though, right? It meant they were cornering him. Just as Sora started running up to close the gap, though, he realized why the man had been moving away from them. The volley of gunshots was startling enough that it was only instinct that forced Sora into bringing up his Keyblade to deflect one of the bullets.
Unfortunately, the guy wasn't going easy on them, and he fired off more shots than Sora was able to count in all of the chaos. While he tried to keep moving, one ended up catching him in the side, drawing a pained yell out of him. His hand went to the afflicted area for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he felt the stickiness there, but it wasn't enough to stop Sora -- especially not when Scott was still going even though he'd been hit twice.
Gritting his teeth, Sora followed up after Scott's attack, swinging his Keyblade around in a slash aimed at the brainwashed patient's legs. He didn't want to hurt the guy too bad, but they needed to get him stunned so that they could make a proper getaway.
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Her body reacted instinctively to the gunshots, reflexes taking over where mental calculations would have been of little use, and Soma let it. It was impossible to avoid all of the bullets completely, and she hissed softly as one ripped through her arm, but she didn't slow down. It hadn't struck anything vital, and it would heal with time. The important thing was to take the patient down first. Soma wasn't sure where he'd come from or what his world was like, but as far as she was concerned, he had to be close to running out of ammunition. Reloading would take precious time, and she intended to take advantage of it.
Sora was pulling his weapon back; the apparent angle indicated an attack on the patient's lower half. Soma settled for raising her spear and bringing the wooden shaft down toward his head. Even if it didn't connect, it might succeed in forcing him further back. They had to corner him eventually.
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"Awww, did that hurt? Maybe you should take a time-out to cry about it," Jason mocked as he caught loudmouth's pipe on the barrel of the gun. The blow sent it skittering out of his hand and away out of sight in the dark. No loss. It was useless to him now as anything more than a blunt instrument.
The kid with his stupid ass key was right behind loudmouth, following up with a swing that knocked his legs out from under him. Jason immediately rolled to the side as he hit the ground, using the momentum to propel himself back to his feet drawing his dagger as he rose. He was just in time to catch the shaft of the spear on his blade before it hit his head. Again with the head. Made him glad he wore head protection.
Unseen by the group, Jason smirked and set off the closest flash grenade, a loud bang the only warning before the area was covered in a thick cloud of smoke. Moving in quickly he grabbed for the shaft of the spear and lashed out with a palm strike aimed at the girl's head. See how she liked it.
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The next sequence of events happened almost too fast for Scott to keep up with. Sora knocked the enemy off his feet, sending him backing away yet again. White-haired Chick (Anime girl? Sephiroth genderbend? Possible relative of Benjamin Button?) went for the head, but was blocked. Then the action was all covered up by a freaking smokescreen. "Hax! I call hax!" Scott snapped as he lashed out in the smoke with his pipe, trying to find the douchenozzle. Suddenly, he saw a quick burst of smoke moving in one direction at about head level. It was either Red Bunghole or one of his new teammates. No time to guess. He couldn't just keep swinging at nothing, especially not with his arm hurting worse and worse. He took a swing at where he guessed the target's midsection was, hoping to hear the sound of pipe hitting douchey, douchey gut.
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The boy was proud to see that Soma was just as on top of it as he was, watching as she closed in on the brainwashed patient. The man guarded her attack, unfortunately, and Sora was just about to follow up after Soma (they couldn't give him a moment to rest!) when there was yet another loud noise. While it thankfully wasn't a gunshot this time, the fast-spreading smoke wasn't much better. It would be far too easy for the guy to start swinging his knife around and catching them with it, if they weren't careful.
Fighting like this was going to be near impossible, and so it didn't take long for Sora's mind to jump to the next objective: getting away. He hadn't forgotten that Mercedes and Scott's friend were still waiting for them. "We might want to use this as a chance to run!" he yelled as he stumbled through the smoke, searching for Soma or Scott. It was just as likely he'd run into their enemy, but Sora wasn't going to make a run for it without them -- even if his side was throbbing like nothing else.
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She remained where she was, waiting for the ringing in her ears to fade. She was used to fighting with limited vision, with little more than radar and her quantum brainwaves to dictate her plan of attack, but here she had no radar and her brainwaves were dulled to the point where she could no longer sense where Sora and the other patients were. All that was left to her was her hearing, and it would have to suffice.
Her silence was rewarded with the sound of an angry voice. She had just enough time to register it as belonging to the loud boy before something latched onto her spear and her senses twigged an oncoming attack. She tried to duck, but the brainwashed patient's palm clipped the top of her head with unsurprising force.
It took her a moment to catch her balance and blink the stars from her eyes, and as she pulled on the spear--that helped, she knew who was on the other end and where he was now--she heard Sora's voice not too far away. That was right. They were supposed to run.
Soma's grip tightened on the spear for an instant before she pulled with a strength that belied her small size, driving her aching head forward toward where she hoped her attacker's midriff was. If she could knock the wind out of him long enough for them to run for it, they might still make it to the cafeteria in time.
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His gut aching too much for any acrobatics right now, Jason slipped a couple of throwing knives - actual fucking knives too, not some fancy, Bat-shaped things - from up his sleeve and sent them flying. One in the direction of the kid's voice and the other where the girl should be. It'd help him locate them in the smoke and should slow them down. He didn't want to let this group get away, even if their two friends must've already made a break for it. He followed up with a high kick at where loudmouth's head should be, forcing himself to keep moving and not stop even as he fought to breath right.
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His decision to skedaddle came not a moment too soon. Just as he moved to pivot and and start running, a knife went sailing just past his neck. "Heeee!" Scott went through his teeth, his body seizing up temporarily at how close the call had been. That moment of hesitation allowed Red Herring there to land a lucky hit, catching him in the back of the head with a high kick. Scott sailed forward, seeing stars for a solid few seconds. Instinctively, he put out his arms to catch his fall, and as soon as his damaged arm was hit with pressure, it gave out like paper, letting his right side collapse on top of it.
"OhcrapohcrapohcrapohcrapmovemovemovemovemovemoveMOVE!" he told himself as he struggled to make his undamaged left arm and leg pull the rest of his body up. He couldn't fully get up to his feet yet, but he was managing to scramble along the ground surprisingly fast with all the adrenaline still pumping through his system. Following the sound of muffled screams up ahead, he hurried in (what he hoped was) the direction of the cafeteria door.
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Luckily, Scott seemed to have taken his words to heart. Sora's eyes widened when he heard the man's yelling, and he was able to follow his voice until he found him scrabbling across the floor. How many times had he been hit by now?!
Sora quickly raced over to him, hoping that Soma was heading in their direction as well. Still, Scott seemed to be in the worst shape right now, and so Sora focused on him, extending his free hand to help him up so that they could both make it out. "C'mon!" he urged. If all went well, the three of them would make it to the cafeteria door around the same time and their opponent would be too disoriented by the smoke to follow them -- or to attack any other patients, for that matter.
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Something whizzed past her into the smoke--a knife of some sort, by the sound of it. She forced herself to put that aside; there was Sora and the boy. Good. Now that they'd located one another, they could go.
"Let's not waste time," she said simply, indicating the general direction of the door.
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They'd gotten free of the smoke now, which was slowly dissipating but still blocked them from his view. He'd have to get clear too to get a good shot at them. They'd be heading for the door to the next room - trying to get away like the rest so far.
The problem was Jason wasn't sure that he would be able to stop them without killing them. This would be easier if he could just kill the damn crazies like they deserved but no, the poor little lunatics had to be kept nice and safe. It was a load of shit. Darting out of the cloud of smoke he saw the group racing for the door, too far away for him to do more than throw another couple of knives at them and hope one hit and made them stop long enough.
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Whether Landel was really Gideon or not, he could still see that a-hole's smirking, shadowed face laughing at him. He could see the guy sitting on a great big king's throne, like the one he had seen in subspace. He could see his own defeated body under the guy's feet like so many nice throw rugs. He could see a smaller queen's throne beside both of them. It was empty, but it was labeled "Ramona" over top. And in big, ominous letters over the whole image, he could see the words "GAME OVER?"
No freaking way that'll happen. Screw you, man, he thought, though he knew Gideon couldn't hear him. His eyes were fixed on the door in front of them. Somehow, despite all his injuries, Scott picked up speed. Faster. Faster. He could almost see her waiting beyond that door.
"It's gonna take a whole lot more than some Red Hood or whatever to keep me from Rammy!" Scott yelled back over his shoulder as he outran the trajectory of a knife. He hadn't meant to yell out loud, but now that he had, it felt satisfying. Scott gave the douchebag a big old grin as the three of them burst into the Cafeteria.
[To here]
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