Dustin wasn’t far behind her. Not that he’d been following this odd little lady-she just happened to be heading in the direction of the piled bodies and, therefore, spare weapons and munitions. True, Dustin had his backpack full of futuristic, self-created devices that could probably wipe out legions of…well, almost anything that came at them. Unfortunately he couldn’t remember how to work them. Among other things I mean.
He just wanted to be able to protect Yoshimi. She might not have needed the support (or she might vehemently deny requiring it), but it was the least he could do for her. Not that he would admit that to anyone of course. As far as the others were concerned, Dustin was just as crass as usual, if not even more so due to his loss of advanced cognitive functions and consequent spike in paranoia.
At current, he was rummaging through a corpse several dozen yards behind this other crewmember. He was perhaps disturbingly more excited to find the man holding two casings of small arms ammunition than he was to come across a body that still had all its limbs. This is not the point, naturally. The point is that Dustin had company now, so he almost casually remarked:
“Any luck? I looks like all the good weapons have been taken.”
Signs of life! Lash casually ignored the remark about her yelling and came out of her hiding place between the crushed slabs of the destroyed building. She seemed to recall seeing this man before, maybe passing by in a corridor or talking a few months ago. Whatever, he was someone who was alive and a team member.
"Not much luck." She kicked a half-rotting head without regard. "I managed to find a backpack from one of the dead soldiers, but the rations, if they were rations in the first place, were all rotted. I can use it to carry things, however. Like the few shell guns I found, and a standard grade military knife." She pointed to the infantry rifle that was attached to her back. "I also found this K98, but I still haven't found bullets for it. The scope is attached to it too! Sucks. My biggest catch is a Colt M1911A1, with half the bullets still in the gun. I also found a box of shells for it." She paused, and brought out about five or so round spheres before placing them in her bag again carefully.
"Bombs. They aren't the best grade, but considering the situation, I'll accept anything that comes by way." She pouted a little. "What I wouldn't give for my Neotanks or ray guns or even a black bomb right now. I'm used to much more futuristic weapons than these. It's like going back sixty years in the past."
He raised a thick eyebrow. The names of weapons echoed about in his brain, ready to be spoken in response: ”Perfect. I’ll take the rifle and keep looking for ammunition, you can have these .45-caliber shells that I just found, they should fit that model pistol. A bomb or two would be nice until then. Now, split up and take the left route through those buildings over there, and offer me cover while I search the opposite side-I think I saw a Mosin-Nagant Model 1891/30 3.5x PU scoped rifle through one of the upper windo-“
Dustin went pale, pain shooting through his crippled brain as it locked up and refused to continue. The static reached nigh deafening levels; and then it subsided, leaving his ears ringing with ambient noise and his temples pounding. It took him a few moments before he could pursue a less complex train of thought.
Stupid Nightmare King. With his stupid power dampeners.
But…that was just the thing, wasn’t it? Dustin’s weapons were almost a century ahead of their time, and he couldn’t even use them! Unless…unless this girl here…
No. She was not touching his guns. Dustin already gave up one prized item today, and he was not about to give up a whole backpack full of others. But he had to protect Yoshimi-even…even if it meant doing something like this.
Paranoia screaming all the way, Dustin gave Lash an anxious look and gingerly unclipped his backpack.
“…I might be able to help you there. What’s your name?”
"Name's Lash," she stated with a miniature salute, her eyes still looking around least they get attacked by something. "Ex-Black Hole Commanding Officer. I'm used to wars, despite my age. What's yours?" She spun around the gun she was holding for emphasis, except it didn't seem to spin as well as normal. She was too tied to show off properly. "Sorry. Usually I could...do things, but lack of proper sleep and my CO powers are not activating at all."
She scooted over and stood next to him, looking at the backpack. Any weapons could be helpful right now.
The salute brought another quizzical raise of his brow, though her stance and title suggested that she had enough competence to handle the weapons he was about to bestow upon her-not to mention, the experience and loyalty not to stab him in the back once he did. Normal conditions required that Lash give more than just a statement of rank to win over Dustin’s fickle allegiance, but these were…far from normal conditions. As far as he could fathom, chances were high that Lash was his only hope.
“Tell me about it,” the scruffy man grumbled knowingly, scratching his sore temples with his exposed prosthetic (uncovered as it was by the lack of his usual steel gray overcoat), “It…must be the nightmares, but I haven’t been able to think straight since the Alert went out.”
Why was he telling her this? “-Anyway-Dustin Silver, previously the Assassin.”
And, with a sigh, he handed over his backpack. It was small, red, and had an uncountable number of sewn-on pockets dotting the dirty surface and single strap; there was a little scanning device of some sort on the clasp which silently unlocked as soon as Dustin put his finger upon it. He couldn’t remember why, but for whatever reason it only responded to him.
The inside was…surprisingly vacuous. One can’t quite comprehend how so many electronics were able to comfortably contain themselves within such a tiny space-the sheer complexity of some of them was difficult to understand as well. A few looked entirely scratch-made, with makeshift microprocessors fused to modern pistols and exposed wires duct taped to collapsible rifles. All of them were inactive; most of them would lock in Lash’s hands and refuse to work.
One of the more impressive ones (wrapped tightly in what remained of Dustin’s overcoat) was, of course, the V-12. In its dormant state it was a 6-inch cube of dark gray metal, scope, and bright red fusion tank, bubbling but otherwise dormant. The only thing it was good for now was perhaps bludgeoning.
Among the useable weapons (should Lash figure out how to work them) was an augmented Kel-Tec P-32, which had an extended magazine that appeared to be filled with...wire and LED bullets? There was also some sort of mechanism taped and bolted to the barrel, though it was difficult to tell what it was underneath its silver bindings.
"The Assassin?" she repeated, stroking her chin, "sounds dangerous. I like the sound of that, tee hee hee. And tell me about it. I've never felt this tired in my entire life. They call me the wunderkind, but how is my brain supposed to function without proper rest?"
But then, lo! It was like a chorus of angels had sung out to her, except said angles were equipped with K-42s, napalm and sunglasses. She couldn't help but let out a small glee and audible gasp at the weapons found in his bag. "Wow! Someone's been pretty busy...unless these are yours?" She turned over some of the weapons. "Oh! I've never seen a model modified like that, that's pure genius! Too bad it doesn't seem to work..." She looked at the more complex ones with a tiny sigh. "Stupid lack of sleep, I'm sure I could get this to work!" Oh well, back into the bag it went as she continued to look. "I'd try to hotwire or hack into the mainframe, but I don't have the necessary tools for that anyway. Stupid lack of sleep. Stupid stupid!" Finally, she managed to take out the P-32, which she regarded in curiosity.
"It's so tiny and elegant," she beamed. "I remember Hawke had a similair model which he hid in his front pocket. Although...the led bullets are kind of strange. Cool, but strange."
The exposed prosthetic did not escape from her eyes (which wasn't that hard considering it wasn't hidden) and curiosity got the better of her as she continued to look at the weapons like a child did a mountain of candy. "What are you, exactly? And what is that reddish tank filled with a substance that's bubbling? Is it acid? I hope it's acid! Hey, if the weapons are yours, maybe you can get them to work, right?" Yeah, at this state her mind was all over the place, sorry Dustin.
Dustin glanced at the ground, a charming but distinctly proud grin crossing his scarred face. Yes, Lash, those are his own designs, and indeed, they are genius in every way, shape, and form! Dustin knows this and he’s letting every bit of your muttered praise and squeals of joy inflate his ego to the point of bursting. The only humbling factor to all of this was the fact that he couldn’t even understand the devices which he had created-and unfortunately, neither did Lash.
Well, to some degree. Some prodding might help, perhaps? Dustin regained his usual feel of urgency and partial annoyance, waiting for this eccentric weapons specialist to finish babbling so that he could get to the point.
“-Yes, yes, you’d be surprised what twenty years of constant hunting and blueprint churning can bring,” the scruffy man nodded impatiently, though he was still resigned to answer her questions to assure himself that he knew them as well, “Of course I’m-I’m only human. Well, kind of human. Human by concept-it’s a long story. Now, the tank? That’s a-“
”-fusion chamber that combines the most abundant elements (of both types) into progressively larger polypeptide chains, creating massive amounts of radiation and superheated bullets that can either be pressurized and fired or vented to burn or disintegrate intangible foes, which is really convenient considering that most of our enemies here are spectral in nature and thus are especially suscept-“
Dustin gnashed his teeth, vision swimming as pain shot through his brain. Once again the gears came to a grinding halt.
“-gun. A really, really big gun. I got it to work earlier but I can’t remember what I did. Seems to be the same for most of these…”
He trailed off, ashamed. This is pathetic.
“…Keep that one, it looks simple enough,” Dustin motioned towards the modified P-32, “If memory serves me correctly-“ which it probably didn’t “-then that one works like a…semi-automatic Taser. Two settings, I think. There should be enough rounds in that magazine to last you for a few hours.”
Dustin wasn’t far behind her. Not that he’d been following this odd little lady-she just happened to be heading in the direction of the piled bodies and, therefore, spare weapons and munitions. True, Dustin had his backpack full of futuristic, self-created devices that could probably wipe out legions of…well, almost anything that came at them. Unfortunately he couldn’t remember how to work them. Among other things I mean.
He just wanted to be able to protect Yoshimi. She might not have needed the support (or she might vehemently deny requiring it), but it was the least he could do for her. Not that he would admit that to anyone of course. As far as the others were concerned, Dustin was just as crass as usual, if not even more so due to his loss of advanced cognitive functions and consequent spike in paranoia.
At current, he was rummaging through a corpse several dozen yards behind this other crewmember. He was perhaps disturbingly more excited to find the man holding two casings of small arms ammunition than he was to come across a body that still had all its limbs. This is not the point, naturally. The point is that Dustin had company now, so he almost casually remarked:
“Any luck? I looks like all the good weapons have been taken.”
Reply
"Not much luck." She kicked a half-rotting head without regard. "I managed to find a backpack from one of the dead soldiers, but the rations, if they were rations in the first place, were all rotted. I can use it to carry things, however. Like the few shell guns I found, and a standard grade military knife." She pointed to the infantry rifle that was attached to her back. "I also found this K98, but I still haven't found bullets for it. The scope is attached to it too! Sucks. My biggest catch is a Colt M1911A1, with half the bullets still in the gun. I also found a box of shells for it." She paused, and brought out about five or so round spheres before placing them in her bag again carefully.
"Bombs. They aren't the best grade, but considering the situation, I'll accept anything that comes by way." She pouted a little. "What I wouldn't give for my Neotanks or ray guns or even a black bomb right now. I'm used to much more futuristic weapons than these. It's like going back sixty years in the past."
Reply
Dustin went pale, pain shooting through his crippled brain as it locked up and refused to continue. The static reached nigh deafening levels; and then it subsided, leaving his ears ringing with ambient noise and his temples pounding. It took him a few moments before he could pursue a less complex train of thought.
Stupid Nightmare King. With his stupid power dampeners.
But…that was just the thing, wasn’t it? Dustin’s weapons were almost a century ahead of their time, and he couldn’t even use them! Unless…unless this girl here…
No. She was not touching his guns. Dustin already gave up one prized item today, and he was not about to give up a whole backpack full of others. But he had to protect Yoshimi-even…even if it meant doing something like this.
Paranoia screaming all the way, Dustin gave Lash an anxious look and gingerly unclipped his backpack.
“…I might be able to help you there. What’s your name?”
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She scooted over and stood next to him, looking at the backpack. Any weapons could be helpful right now.
"What did you find?"
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“Tell me about it,” the scruffy man grumbled knowingly, scratching his sore temples with his exposed prosthetic (uncovered as it was by the lack of his usual steel gray overcoat), “It…must be the nightmares, but I haven’t been able to think straight since the Alert went out.”
Why was he telling her this? “-Anyway-Dustin Silver, previously the Assassin.”
And, with a sigh, he handed over his backpack. It was small, red, and had an uncountable number of sewn-on pockets dotting the dirty surface and single strap; there was a little scanning device of some sort on the clasp which silently unlocked as soon as Dustin put his finger upon it. He couldn’t remember why, but for whatever reason it only responded to him.
The inside was…surprisingly vacuous. One can’t quite comprehend how so many electronics were able to comfortably contain themselves within such a tiny space-the sheer complexity of some of them was difficult to understand as well. A few looked entirely scratch-made, with makeshift microprocessors fused to modern pistols and exposed wires duct taped to collapsible rifles. All of them were inactive; most of them would lock in Lash’s hands and refuse to work.
One of the more impressive ones (wrapped tightly in what remained of Dustin’s overcoat) was, of course, the V-12. In its dormant state it was a 6-inch cube of dark gray metal, scope, and bright red fusion tank, bubbling but otherwise dormant. The only thing it was good for now was perhaps bludgeoning.
Among the useable weapons (should Lash figure out how to work them) was an augmented Kel-Tec P-32, which had an extended magazine that appeared to be filled with...wire and LED bullets? There was also some sort of mechanism taped and bolted to the barrel, though it was difficult to tell what it was underneath its silver bindings.
“It’s not so much what I found…”
Reply
But then, lo! It was like a chorus of angels had sung out to her, except said angles were equipped with K-42s, napalm and sunglasses. She couldn't help but let out a small glee and audible gasp at the weapons found in his bag. "Wow! Someone's been pretty busy...unless these are yours?" She turned over some of the weapons. "Oh! I've never seen a model modified like that, that's pure genius! Too bad it doesn't seem to work..." She looked at the more complex ones with a tiny sigh. "Stupid lack of sleep, I'm sure I could get this to work!" Oh well, back into the bag it went as she continued to look. "I'd try to hotwire or hack into the mainframe, but I don't have the necessary tools for that anyway. Stupid lack of sleep. Stupid stupid!" Finally, she managed to take out the P-32, which she regarded in curiosity.
"It's so tiny and elegant," she beamed. "I remember Hawke had a similair model which he hid in his front pocket. Although...the led bullets are kind of strange. Cool, but strange."
The exposed prosthetic did not escape from her eyes (which wasn't that hard considering it wasn't hidden) and curiosity got the better of her as she continued to look at the weapons like a child did a mountain of candy. "What are you, exactly? And what is that reddish tank filled with a substance that's bubbling? Is it acid? I hope it's acid! Hey, if the weapons are yours, maybe you can get them to work, right?" Yeah, at this state her mind was all over the place, sorry Dustin.
Reply
Well, to some degree. Some prodding might help, perhaps? Dustin regained his usual feel of urgency and partial annoyance, waiting for this eccentric weapons specialist to finish babbling so that he could get to the point.
“-Yes, yes, you’d be surprised what twenty years of constant hunting and blueprint churning can bring,” the scruffy man nodded impatiently, though he was still resigned to answer her questions to assure himself that he knew them as well, “Of course I’m-I’m only human. Well, kind of human. Human by concept-it’s a long story. Now, the tank? That’s a-“
”-fusion chamber that combines the most abundant elements (of both types) into progressively larger polypeptide chains, creating massive amounts of radiation and superheated bullets that can either be pressurized and fired or vented to burn or disintegrate intangible foes, which is really convenient considering that most of our enemies here are spectral in nature and thus are especially suscept-“
Dustin gnashed his teeth, vision swimming as pain shot through his brain. Once again the gears came to a grinding halt.
“-gun. A really, really big gun. I got it to work earlier but I can’t remember what I did. Seems to be the same for most of these…”
He trailed off, ashamed. This is pathetic.
“…Keep that one, it looks simple enough,” Dustin motioned towards the modified P-32, “If memory serves me correctly-“ which it probably didn’t “-then that one works like a…semi-automatic Taser. Two settings, I think. There should be enough rounds in that magazine to last you for a few hours.”
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