265 replies to this topic

[Frouste]

Beefsweat, on February 22 2013 - 06:45 PM, said:

Frouste, on February 22 2013 - 06:28 PM, said:

"And who in the dickens is this," Piston blurted over the comms traffic.
"Apparently this guy's got a cupcake," his counter-part observantly replied.
"I ain't see no cupcakes nowhere," Piston yipped back, "stop fuzzing with me!"
"His mech IS also called a cupcake.  Now stow it, both of you," Dan barked, as he knew that Vangard models generally don't take stock in the usual run-of-the-mill patrols.  This was an officer, and if you didn't shape up in the presence of an officer, things tended to go south for your career...

Dan's voice cracked as he mustered the strength to iterate the most obvious question, "what's an officer such as yourself doing way out here, sir_"

Off topic for a second, is it weird that I read the voices of the two Pistoneers in the voices of the trolls from The Hobbit_

lol, I haven't seen that movie yet.  But if you read a character any one way, no, it's not strange.

[The_Eldritch_Abomination]

"Orders from the Brass" Eldritch replied. he then realized that they had stiffened in his presence. Noting this, he decided to do this quickly. Standing tall, he briskly said"High Command had decided to strengthen their outposts in the event of a massive Sentium invasion. And doing so, I've been transferred over here."

Eldritch knew this was all a lie, like the metaphorical cake meme that had gone out of fashion centuries ago.

Prosk had hundreds if not thousands of pilots in reserve- mainly recruits and other other cannon fodder, and they weren't afraid to spend a few hundred lives and Mechs to take a few metres of land here and there in Zerg Rush attacks. Then again, Prosk wasn't any better either.

But he wasn't needed for anything like that. Sometimes, the truth is so terrible, that one would simply like to bury it. But in the end, one can never run from the truth...

Enough of that, Eldritch thought to himself, brushing away the now seemingly antiquated thought.  

"so what are you waiting for_" Eldritch barked into the radio, attempting to increase the pilot's morale. "Don't stand around like a bunch of impacted fuzzy bunny, let's show those Sentium scavengers whose the BOSS around here!"

Edited by The_Eldritch_Abomination, March 25 2013 - 03:04 AM.

[Mackindale]

I hear Beef's voice from my intercom radio and having lost my target, I race back down the elevator shaft to meet up with him. "Zzzch- you ready_" I check my weapons system for armament and radio back to base, to confirm hostiles. "HQ, we got an armada coming for us. They should be here in 15-20 minutes I'd guess. Can you spare a few units to help us take back this salv_ We got a lot of it." I look at the old mechs and parts and Q target a few power generators that look good, and plenty of the good mechs. "zzch-eh Beef, looks like this stuff is some of the last few models that were produced before Crion went down. These are recently manuf-zzch-'ured and look like they'll be pretty valuable. If we can stay alive long enough to bring this junk home, we'll probably get promoted to a comfy office job... heh." I look out the large, metal entrance way into the dry desert and spot nothing. "The enemy will probably be here soon... ready to kill something_ -zzch"

[Kruthal_Dexlar]

The order comes through. I sit up in my seat, tighten up my harness slightly and drop down my sun visor. I begin to do a quick systems check, hitting buttons and flicking rocker switches to engage weapons and initiate combat protocols.

Weapons Subsys...      PASS
Mechanical Subsys...   PASS
Safety Subsys...           FAIL

seeing that last report I think to myself "hmm, well we'd better take enough of them out that I can salvage some scrap of my own."

Edited by Kruthal_Dexlar, February 22 2013 - 07:17 PM.

[Frouste]

Piston piped up, "Damn straight, sir," and then he added the words Dan dreaded his gung-ho pilot would say...
"We'll have coffee ready at the end of the mission, would you care for some, sir_"  As if we didn't already have enough problems, Dan dropped his face into his the palm of his hands for a moment, and then composed himself.  Officers generally take over mecha teams when they're sent on spec-ops missions. Maybe... "Eld, you hold the center," Dan began barking orders with a commanding presence like he always had.  "Piston, Bill, you're on interdiction detail; protect Eldritch.  And Kruth, you and I are on point."

Piston whined with a single smart retort, but no more, they were his friend's orders after all.
Bill replied with a "sir," and assumed his formation.

Dan fiddled with his vest as he checked his handgun, ammo and his knife.
Here's hoping all goes well...

[The_Eldritch_Abomination]

'Sure, Expresso if you have it."

[15 MINUTES LATER]

"Right. I don't know what's in there, could be a few scavengers or a whole battalion. Don't underestimate them."


As they moved into position near the factory, Eldritch counted down "Right,releasing detonator in T minus 30 seconds."
"20 seconds..."

​He wondered if a full frontal assault was the best idea, why not surround the area and attack from multiple points_ He quickly waved away the thought as he counted down.

"10 seconds..."

As he counted down, the Royal Guard remembered his first time piloting his Cupcake, how it had saved him from multiple direct hits from a crowd of HEAT wielding Scouts- the scars still visible on the Cupcake's frame, and how he swore that he would never let that happen again-

"one"

The detonator flew out of the Cupcake's launching rack, like a bullet from her Submachine Cannon or a Grenade from her launcher, spiraling gracefully before hitting the doors of the factory.

BOOM.

(This will be the last post for a few hours, so continue the story- say I was teleported somewhere_ )

Edited by The_Eldritch_Abomination, February 22 2013 - 07:42 PM.

[Beefsweat]

All at once, I am filled with feelings of deep excitement and sheer terror. The sight of my teammate is reassuring, but his words strike dissonant notes within me. I slam the COMMO rocker with my thumb, "Come again, Mack, did I hear you correctly!_ What the hell, they told us the scanners hadn't picked up anything out here in months. What, does Prosk have an FOB out in the middle of the damn desert_" I can hear the panic rising in my own voice and I cut comms immediately. My palms are sweating in my sandy, work-worn gloves.

Deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Your teammate needs you.

I thumb the COMMO button again while reaching for the SQUELCH and SND-B dial to try and cut through the poor radio reception. "Mack, you're the smaller one. You keep a lookout and I'll extract what I can from these husks." I turn to head back down the garage, and pause for a moment. I've forgotten something. Turning back to my teammate, I press the touchscreen on a monitor near my right hand.A CLUNK emanates from my mech as the forward pod drops a large, stacked disc-like object to the ground. The faded paint on one of the stacks reads "AUTOMATIC DEFENSE TURRENT, MODEL 202, POINT-D VULCAN".

"You're gonna nee-"


TRANSMISSION LOST

Edited by Beefsweat, February 22 2013 - 08:26 PM.

[SilentJacket]

i was just standing here when tom cruise locked himself in the closet
I asked myself why won't tom cruise come out of the closet
and nobody has no answers
so i pull out my gun
tell me why tom cruise is in the closet or im gonna shoot someone.

Edited by SilentJacket, February 22 2013 - 07:40 PM.

[Frouste]

Damnit, another officer with a sense of entitlement.  Dan realized that his leadership went unnoticed by Eldritch after he gave everyone orders.

As Eldritch counted down, Dan and his team readied their SubMachine Cannons and TOW Launchers for combat.  His H.E. charge and scrambler were at the ready as well.  His Brommens has been his most prized tool of his service, don't fail me now, Vira.

BANG!

The door blasted wide open, and Dan's team opened fire, raking all that was in sight.  A red outline flipped out of sight as soon as they opened fire.

When smoke cleared, and the team could make out the outline of several weathered, albeit dated models of mecha and like equipment attributed to modern warfare.  "Hot fuzz," Piston let loose his amazement in a single statement...
"Contact, one B-Class, sir.  Should be a walk in the pa-" "Kruth said there was a Spree pilot," Dan interrupted Bill...  Everyone took a breath and scanned the room.  "Room clear," Dan declared, "stay frosty, lay low..."

[Mackindale]

"zzch- Beefsweat_ What happened__" I blink in a panic as I burn to the entrance the doors, a twisted wreck, flames spouting from half broken pipes still filled with fuel residue. I look around and spot a dangerous cupcake ahead, likely armed to the teeth. I fire my slug rifle and KE-SABOT simultaneously, firing my burners as I circle the Vanguard, filling it with bullet holes and metal. (gone for a few hours_ ;D) I fire a final shot into the cockpit and my ears are honored with a lovely boom, fire and shrapnel filling the air as the hostile mech falls to its knees and explodes.
I burn back to the factory and take cover, looking around for Beef, sweating as I await backup from Sentium command. The turret should keep me safe for a little bit, but I know I can't last long alone. "Command, I need backup NOW!", I yell into the comm. system.

[Frouste]

off-topic: This is looking to be really good!

[Beefsweat]

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Darkness now. Silence.

Utter, perfect, deafening diamond-silence. And ringing. Only ringing.

I am moving now. I do not know how or where but I am moving. The muscle memory is still there, somewhat. Dodge to the right. Step down with the left foot, press both thumbs, jerk to the side, step down with the right foot while letting up the left. There you go. I can hear things whizzing and popping around my mech now. Something is wrong. Why can't I balance_ Why can't I breathe_ Somehow the fog is lifted again, and I am able to inspect the ruins of my armored carapace.

Mother fuzzers took my arm.

There's blood all over the place. I'm scared to look down. My legs are shaking and I cannot work the pedals. I can feel my ruined body and yet I feel almost no pain. My crushed and battered right-armed Hiefram slumps against the wall as I let go of the control sticks. I slump against the wall of the cockpit almost identically. It's hard to breathe. Someone is shouting in my ear, but I cannot discern their words. My hands are cold and sweaty and bloody, I cannot grip the emergency radio so I rest the hand mic on my lap. I squeak out words that I am not truly cognizant of.

"Command, this is Salvage Escort Yankee Golf One Oh One. We are under attack by unknown hostile forces and need backup immediately. One friendly down." I press something blinking out of the corner of my eye, and the blinking stops. I know what it is. My last message. Coldness grips my body in waves now, draining me of my spirit. I lay back in my seat as my Hiefram slides to the ground, hemorrhaging fluids and twitching in its death throes. I touch a bloodied hand, missing the end of a digit to the armor readout window.

999999999999999999999999999999999999ERROR999999999999999999999999999999999999

I can hear something in the distance, possibly the thuds of another mechanized death-dealer coming to finish me off.

It doesn't matter now.

Edited by Beefsweat, February 22 2013 - 08:48 PM.

[Frouste]

Dude...

I wasn't expecting you to do that...

Edited by Frouste, February 22 2013 - 08:16 PM.

[tman7919]

It's funny... I do this all the time. I even am in the middle of a fan-fiction of Hawken. I plan on releasing another addition soon.

[Frouste]

As radio chatter keeps buzzing, Dan moves his mech into the next room and notices a heavily damaged Hiefram that lay upon the ground.
A presence seems to be within the mech, but it's faint.  The Brommens points its left arm at the Hiefram's torso and a moment lingers...

Should I leave him be_  No, he might not've done the same...  Damnit Dan, stop yourself!

The Brommens slowly turns and continues on, away from the ruined mass, leaving the dying pilot be...
What good is your humanity if you lose yourself in the worst of times_

[SilentJacket]

felt like joining in


noise.

I hear noise in the silence.

I glance out of my make-shift home to see a battlefield outside, and to the left of me, the carcass of a mechanical monster

there is someone inside

or, what was someone

An arm, a leg, gone, but alive

"I'm going to regret this" I say to myself, as I drag the dying pilot into my shop

"Building parts for humans can't be any different than building parts for androids" I thought to myself

and then I set to work

[SilentJacket]

running back and forth between my stores and cannibalizing parts from the downed mech, I start to make him whole again

nerves became fiber-optics, as blood vessels were re-routed back into he body using a small army of nano-bots, derivatives of the Hawken Virus that doomed this planet

quickly, quickly, I thought to myself as I used hardened ceramic to rebuild his ribcage

"maybe I can coax him into giving me some supplies" I think to myself as I work

Edited by SilentJacket, February 22 2013 - 09:00 PM.

[Beefsweat]

Thump... thump. Thump... thump. Thump...   ...thump.

Everything is cold. Dark. Silent. Even peaceful. I'm left with ragged and distant thoughts and memories - I am not sure which is which, and which are even mine anymore. Something keeps whining in my ear. It won't let me die.

Shut the hell up and let me bleed. Wait... what_

...DATA PACKAGE WITHHELD, NO CONNECTION AVAILABLE...

My message... have to send it to command... is the emergency transponder still here_
God dammit. There's always one more job to be done.     

The distant thuds are here, now - I reach for the emergency pistol on my vest and my hand meets the butt of the weapon, but I do not take a firing grip. I hear the unmistakable whirring of servos and gears, the slight grind of metal on metal. The pistol finally slips out of its holster and I drop it to the cockpit with a grunt. Whoever it might be, I don't need weapons now. The thuds reverberate down through the halls - whatever was there seems to be gone. I use the survival knife on my hip to cut myself out of my harness. Any attempt to move sends a wave of white fire up my back and into my brain and into every nerve like a daggery hand outstretching through my entire body.

Oh god. Can I do this_

Edited by Beefsweat, February 22 2013 - 09:03 PM.

[SilentJacket]

breh, you just missed the part where I pulled your carcass from your mech already

[Beefsweat]

SilentJacket, on February 22 2013 - 09:05 PM, said:

breh, you just missed the part where I pulled your carcass from your mech already

oh cripes, I'm not good at refreshing