Who:
Everyone that signed up to rescue the crazy surgeon. CHECK THIS FOR YOUR TEAMS.
What: Rescuing the crazy surgeon in the medical pavilion under the ocean of Promenade.
Where: ...The medical pavilion under the ocean of Promenade.
When: Day.
Warnings: Gore, psychological horror, Dr. Steinman, eventual eye-squick and death. Also language. this log
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Well, with that kind of attention, there was only one logical conclusion. Point staff at the things hurting the helpless little girl and shout out: "Falcon Punch!"
Silver-blue sparks rippled through the air as he unloaded a boulder-sized Fozare into the middle of the group of Splicers in attempt to send them scattering. Like bowling pins. Bowling for Splicers, the new sport of Promenade.
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His arrival and the Thuggish Splicer's movement away from the group clues the rest of them into the team's arrival. The Nitro Splicers, armed with grenades, look up and immediately hurl them at anyone still on the stairs while the Leadheads, those armed with guns, start shooting. They'll focus on taking the team out before they get the Little Sister, even in the face of Isamu's blade -- these ones haven't fought the team before, after all, with the exception of one.
They're so focused, in fact, that they don't notice Billy shielding her. The Little Sister certainly does, though, and she shrieks again. She's scared. She doesn't know these people, her guardian is dead, the monsters want to get her.Harry ( ... )
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Not that Isamu would let Harry know that implicitly.
"Falcon punch? Jesus, the damn brain trust right there." Loud enough, maybe only just, but definitely loud enough to be heard by anyone close enough. Sword still crackling, he wielded it with one hand, the other shooting small blasts of lightning at the downed monsters. "Everyone! Hit hard and hit fast! This is the best shot we've got to get this done without too much damage!"
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When he misses his mark, he's lined up flawlessly to take a lead pipe to the side, a pained yelp escaping him as he loses his grip and drops to the floor. It hurts, but he's taken worse blows from crueler adversaries without being crippled. A quick yank dislodges his hook from where he'd anchored it, the implement clattering to the ground as his winch kicked in and immediately began drawing it home.
In the meantime, he was hurting too much to want to get up, but he knew that if he just laid there and tried to get a breather, his assailants would finish him off. In a flash his pistol was drawn as he rolled aside to dodge any further attacks. Armed, he aimed at the nearest knee that didn't belong to his teammates and fired a quick two taps. Should he be lucky, strike true and perhaps even get the splicer to collapse ( ... )
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Harry ducks a swing from a lead pipe and blocks the other with his shield bracelet. In the spray of sparks that ignite when the weapon crashes with the shield, he cocks his arm back and lets loose one of the force rings on his fingers. The little items store a bit of kinetic energy whenever he moves his arm, unleashing it all at once when the ring is activated. The built up force of the ring tries to hit the Splicer dead in the face.
"Keep them scattered!" he bellowed, "dont let them organize!"
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Bullets and grenades still fly while pipes are brandished, but in the end, the splicers are no match for beta team. There is no where to run this time, and so they don't. They die instead.
The Little Sister is still sobbing over her protector when the last Splicer falls, still clutching at his gloved hand with her own. "Mister Bubbles, get up!"
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"This is Mister Bubbles then?" He made his way over and gave the felled whatever it was (because anything could be inside that damn suit) a poke with his sword, much in the same way a child would have poked at a dead animal to make sure that it was, in fact, dead. "What the hell is a little girl doing in a shithole like this?"
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But now it seemed like he's got enough kick to feel a little more useful. Plus with some string or something, he figures they could jerry-rig a trap or blow-up doors and stuff too.
After stuffing his new spoils into his backpack, he makes his way over to the fallen behemoth, stopping a few feet away. Everyone else seems to be crowding the clearly frightened girl, so after a moment. "Hey guys! Give her some space!" He still doesn't advance any further himself, but crouches to inspect the body of the girl's protector, "It looks like her buddy's pretty banged up. I don't think it's getting up any time soon."
State the obvious much there, Cou?
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