aaaaaaaagh_sky | National Guard Depot

From:

Squinting behind his sunglasses as he pushes through the grate, Michael shrugs - getting out of the way to find a clear vantage point with the scope on his rifle.

"I get the impression there's a lot worse out here."

From:

ihavemyflaws

After weeks of what amounts to shore leave at the bar, it does feel weird to be in combat armor, to have her own gun strapped to her hip like it means business and a borrowed assault rifle on her back.

But it feels good. Maybe it's just her, but there's a low-level intensity in the air already that she wants to soak right up.

A few steps behind Michael, she cracks half a smile. "No kidding. This is almost cozy."

She doesn't mind wet feet so long as she still has both feet.

From:

cbucsrule

There's a pack on his back filled with... well, they're grenades, for all intents and purposes, and as much as he doesn't like being clad in anything metal -- too close to the toasters, godsdammit -- he's glad for the protection the armor gives him.

He's got his rifle, got his ammo, and frak if he's not on the highest of high alert. Even though his plan to come out here sucks, according to Kara, he's gotta stay in fighting form and this, this is the way to do it. They've got Ellen, him and Kara, and Michael and Wolfwood, neither of which he'd met before but is pretty frakking glad to have along for this ride. If he said he wasn't on edge he'd be lying, but frak, it's also good to be somewhere different.

Someplace where he's not stuck.

They might be working their way through a bad-smelling wet drainage pipe, but he barely notices. This fighting business, stealth fighting, it's new to him. He hasn't done enough of it yet so it comes naturally, but he'll catch on.

From:

fullofmercy

He sniffs at the air, grimaces, and considers lighting a cigarette, smoke be damned. Would anybody really get close enough to smell it...?

No, no. He shakes his head, rueful. Time enough to smoke afterwards, even if it calms his nerves, even if the smoke would be preferable to...just about anything he might smell here. Shifting the Punisher on his back, he takes a deep breath, and immediately wishes he hadn't.

"I'd say we're doing pretty well until we start getting shot at," he says, picking his way along, the cross a comforting weight against his back.

At least no one's suggesting he leave it behind, this time.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"I've scoped the perimeter out as best I could," Ellen continues. "There's turrets at regular intervals and the occasional Mr. Gutsy patrol. The only robots at the front gate are a pair of Protectrons, which are a lot flimsier. If we're going to get shot at by anything, they're the best choice. Taking the emplaced turrets out before going after the robots is probably a wise idea... Michael, think you can hit one of those things with that rifle of yours? I can use the Gauss on the other, and that'll free other people up to go after the Protectrons and go for the main doors."

From:

luvs_yogurt

"Yeah..." the spy answers slowly, staring straight down the scope at the eyepiece of the turret. He almost hates to shoot it - the technology is significantly advanced from what they've got at home, but honestly the kind of guys he'd end up surrendering it to would only use it for the wrong reasons.

"I've got the far one lined up, gimme a sec..." He takes off his sunglasses and clips them to inside of his pocket.

Bracing himself with the rifle dug into his shoulder between plates of the alloy armor, he takes check of his crosshair before firing three shots in quick succession - a smile stretching his lips when it explodes in a small spray of smoke and sparks. "One down."

From:

ihavemyflaws

This seems like it'll be a lot easier than expected. Especially since the group includes this guy with the sniper rifle and the one with... whatever the frak that weapon is on his back. Which is good, she guesses -- no reason to think the leader of Caprica's resistance stands a chance of getting killed or maimed -- but part of her has been itching for the opportunity to fight since before she even signed on.

Once she's watched Michael deal with one of the turrets, she takes the assault rifle off her back in preparation. The Protectrons have never sounded like the biggest threat in this place, and she's not inclined to waste an explosive round on them unless asked.

Or unless they line up just right.

From:

cbucsrule

So far, this isn't too different from the shit he's been dealing with on Caprica. The biggest difference is that there, he's usually done the planning and scoped out the place beforehand, especially if it was somewhere he didn't already know.

He's itching to try out the grenade-stuffed pyramid balls and he knows the explosives in them is different from what he has at home, from what Rally's been working on, but at least he can test the theory, assure himself there's nothing inherently difficult about using them and that there's nothing about them that'll stop a high-powered explosive from working. Different detonation, he reminds himself, these are grenades, but every explosive needs a charge to work. It's only a slightly different strategy.

Through the sight on his rifle he aims at the other turret, just in case and because backup's always critical. This rifle, it's not as powerful as the one he's used to from home, and he's got one of the grenades at hand. He's no stranger to munitions -- he sleeps on top of lockers full of them back on Caprica, 'cause someone's gotta guard them -- but it doesn't mean they don't put him on high alert.

"First frakking toaster I see, man. Taking that sonofabitch out." That's mostly for Kara's benefit, if not his own. He's got a lot of payback to give, even if these aren't his toasters -- their toasters -- and this isn't his world. He's been reminded of that enough.

"Ellen. Any possible chance there's any friendlies in there? Anything alive?"

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

There are, as Michael had noticed, at least two mutants prowling around among some of the nearby ruins. Heavily armed and heavily muscled, they have the air of beings who've been working far too hard for far too long and just want an excuse to hit something. Or, given their armament, more than hit.

They don't appear to have noticed the humans, at least not yet.

From:

fullofmercy

Wolfwood settles the cross on his shoulder with a heavy clang, tips his head to Michael.

"You've got more range than me -- unless you want me to go straight for the rocket launcher. Still, I think we can probably avoid that for the time being. It's such a mess. On the other hand, there's no way to communicate if we split up. You seem to know what you're doing -- any preferences?"

Edited Date: 2012-06-04 03:33 pm (UTC)

From:

luvs_yogurt

Looking back down the scope, the monsters still haven't noticed them but now it's three and not two.

"Once the other team starts taking down those robots, the big guys are most likely going to notice. We should move and set up a little closer. Double team them - I'll take the long shots and get their attention - when the ones with clubs start coming at us, you open fire and I'll drop the one with the gun at distance."

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Over a pile of rubble in the distance, from the direction the mutants must sure have come, something pinkish and low-slung is hauling itself. If one could take an armless human torso and ram it into another torso at a right angle, and then give the second torso four arms instead of two arms and two legs, it would be something like this.

It pauses on a high lump of rubble, and though its eyes look squeezed shut, it seems to peer in the humans' direction.

From:

fullofmercy

Here's the thing about sneaking closer: dusty as his suit might be, it's still noticeably black and white, and the sun still gleams off the metal of the Punisher, and that makes staying unnoticed difficult, at best.

Well, subtlety's never really been his style.

Still, he tries to be as unobtrusive as possible as they move closer, squinting behind his sunglasses when motion catches his eye.

...Ew.

"Looks like we're about to have company," he says, conversational.

From:

luvs_yogurt

Kneeling in the dust to brace the sniper rifle and train it on the big ugly with the gun, Michael sighs and rubs his eyes.

"Okay... Revised plan, you aim for the squishy looking guy and then the big ugly guys with clubs. I'll drop the gunner and then join you. Ready? Good."

He doesn't wait for any agreement, knowing if nothing Wolfwood would follow his plan by virtue of it being the only one offered. Exhaling as he pulls the trigger - his shot flies true and catches the super mutant in the right eye.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Michael isn't the only one letting loose on his enemies. He is, however, the only one using a gun to do so- because the mutants with clubs are charging, the pink thing is spitting a wad of something brown and wet and disgusting in a long parabolic arc aimed for Wolfwood's position, and the mutant gunner is...

....

... oh, that's just not fair; nothing should be able to clutch at its head like that and stand up again when it's bleeding that much from one eye socket. Goddamn mutant skulls. At least it dropped its gun.

From:

fullofmercy

Oh, crap.

He's got no idea what that glob is, but whatever it might be, it's certain to be unpleasant, so he watches as it arcs towards him before throwing himself out of the way, rolling to end up on his stomach with the Punisher lined up on his shoulder.

Exhale. Squeeze the trigger.

A short burst of bullets speed towards the thing, slamming into its body, but he's not optimistic about even that stopping it, if it's anything like the supermutant Michael's aiming for.

On second thought, the rocket might not be such a bad idea.