Lockwood
Alive
There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.
Posts: 46
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Post by Lockwood on Aug 19, 2011 13:32:39 GMT -5
The superhuman seemed amused before he finally acknowledged that weapons staying drawn would not get them anywhere. Dalton was not pleased at his questions regarding his mutations but surprised to see another resident of the UK in Racoon city, Toast couldn’t blame him, when Dalton talked he had been surprised. There were few UK operatives left working in the states, most had returned to assist the rebuilding of Queen and Country.
Simon smiled and nodded his agreement before placing the safety back on and tucking his handgun back into the rear waistband of his trousers.
“Correct sir, London, born and bred. I knew you weren’t a Yank when you didn’t start shooting first and asking questions later. Name is Simon but everyone calls me ‘Toast’, don’t ask. What am I doing here? That’s complicated.”
Simon paced back and forth thinking for a minute before nodding to himself and turning his gaze back onto Dalton. The Superhuman bodyguard was leaning against the desk as if he was in corporate America and this was his office.
“The people who did that to you; Super Solider program. Too advanced to be an Umbrella legacy, no, you’d be some sort of clawed monster or ten feet tall and barely able to speak. Most of the clearance teams took them out years ago anyway. Raccoon city may be a wild west but it isn’t anywhere near housing active Tyrants. No, must be a product of some Tricell genetics.”
Dalton started pacing again thinking about what this all meant. Was Dalton looking for Tricell in Racoon City, did he know about the secret science team and security teams Tricell were running here under the name “Western Energy Resources”. The whole bodyguard story was feasible but there much more to this individual than that, Simon recognized the stamp of a former military man. It was in the body language and the way he held himself, it spoke of the subconscious imprinting the British Military preformed on its men and women. Toast would know, he had experienced it himself for enough years before going private.
” So Dalton, I presume you are after Tricell if my logic doesn’t fail me. Of course stop me here if I am wrong. Which, in turn, makes this situation……interesting.”
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Post by Rhinn on Aug 19, 2011 16:55:56 GMT -5
{OOC - Hey Lockwood, I told Wolf that it would be okay if she showed up. She's an arms dealer incase you want another weapon.}
Dalton was about to tell Simon that it really wasn’t any of his business when he stopped short. He heard the sound coming from outside the building. It was heavy machinery pulling up in front of the store… Dalton didn’t need his enhanced hearing to hear it. Army grade vehicle, thought Dalton. That could be very good… or very bad. He held up his hand for silence and moved to the door. He tensed a little as he approached Toast, not having made a decision about him yet. He heard the crunch of glass as someone came through the front of the building.
His MP5A2, was out in his hand in an instant, trained on the door. He backed into the room and looked over at Simon, giving him a hard look. Was this someone else looking for loot, or was it part of Simon’s team? Was Simon sent in to distract him while they moved in on his location?
Dalton didn’t know and wasn’t going to let them get into position. He moved back to where the safe guarded one side of him and he stood right under the roof hatch he had come through.
“I know you are out there. Show yourself!” He called out in a loud voice. He also had one more trick up his sleeve… he could fire into the air, drawing the attention of every Zee in the area to their location.
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Lockwood
Alive
There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.
Posts: 46
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Post by Lockwood on Aug 20, 2011 3:02:46 GMT -5
(Great stuff, the more the merrier!)
Dalton wasn’t the only one to hear it , although it seemed it wasn’t only his physical strength that was enhanced. The superhuman had heard the sound before Toast and he couldn’t help but kick himself over being sloppy.
As Dalton backed into the room, his MP5 locked onto the doorway he turned to give a hard but questioning look at Simon. Simon did not blame him, the man smelt a rat, a trap. It didn’t help that Toast knew about the super soldier programs and Tricell. He could see what it looked like: a Tricell security forces trap for one of their rogue creations, assuming he was Tricell genetics after all.
Simon shook his head, indicating that he wasn’t expecting anyone. As Dalton moved behind the safe Simon drew his CZ-75b and moved to the wall of the office, lining up to the left of the doorway. He stood legs bent, gun extended forward. It was dark, but nowhere near it had been, cracks of light had given the room a small visibility that had been lacking when Toast and Dalton had first ‘met’.
They were in position; anyone coming through that door would be caught in a deadly crossfire. The only problem was that if the guys or girls in the other room had any heavy weapons and decided to spray the room through the wall Toast had next to no cover. Toast hated being so lightly armed but black operations often meant you found any weapons in the field and he was no stranger to being outgunned. However, the feeling never got any better and being under resourced was grating at the best at times and deadly at the worst.
Dalton called out, announcing their presence. It was a brave move, if they were friendly it would stop a firefight but if they were enemies, Dalton and Toast would lose the element of surprise. A firefight was no good for anyone in the building, it would alert all the zeds outside and they would swarm. When Zeds swarmed for long enough there was more chance of some of the bigger baddies turning up. Swarms of walkers were bad enough, but if Lickers or any of the bigger BOWs turned up then you were really up the proverbial creek.
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Post by Caliber on Aug 20, 2011 17:42:58 GMT -5
As Cel maneuvered farther into the building, she covered the LED Taclight with her hand, preventing any light from shining through, for fear of alerting any potential infected that might reside inside the building. It was then that she heard a man call out from inside, telling her to show herself. Cel recognized that it was an odd thing to do-- giving your position away like that.
"Looks like we may have a customer," she said quietly, intending Quicksilver to hear.
Whipping around the corner, she took her hand away from the taclight, pointing her Krink forward and allowing the beam to illuminate the room. Deliberately shining the beam into the face of the man, she blinded him. Looking around, she noticed another man-- who had obviously stayed quiet when she'd entered the building. Cel adjusted her aim, as to position the light in a way that blinded both men.
"Scratch that, customers," she hushed, emphasizing the plural.
Cel looked both men up and down, inspecting their weaponry as they pointed it at her.
"Looting, huh?" she smirked, speaking loud enough for the men across the room to hear her. "Considering you're looting a gun store, I'm guessing it's safe to guess that you boys are looking for a new piece," she continued. "You're in luck," she laughed. "And considering nobody has started shooting each other yet, I take it you're interested."
Flicking off the LED light on her Krinkov, Cel allowed the men to regain their sight.
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Lockwood
Alive
There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.
Posts: 46
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Post by Lockwood on Aug 21, 2011 16:10:44 GMT -5
(Didn’t know whether there was a strict post order beyond no double posting before replies, just thought I’d keep it rolling)
”I prefer the term scavenging or surviving.”
Simon looked around and his eyes scanned the room quickly, his vision was all but fried, the pseudo arms dealer had decided to kill off what little night vision he had acquired talking with Dalton. It had been a risky maneuver, Toast knew it well enough; he had done so only 10 minutes earlier to find Dalton in the back room.
Toast didn’t lower his gun; instead his eyes went to the hatch, checking to see whether it was still closed. Chances are nothing had dropped in behind him in the commotion, but there were some were could pull it off under normal circumstances. However, the situation wasn’t normal; he was standing in the back office of a guns store, one that had none of the aforementioned products, talking with a woman selling guns and a superhuman bent on revenge. It was almost reassuring that things were SNAFU as per standard operating procedure.
Toast turned his attention to the woman standing before him, an attractive blonde that was probably as ruthless as she was alluring.
”Perhaps Miss Comedian. But first your companion is going to come on out. No arms dealer worth their salt turns up without any muscle and you don’t look like a complete amateur. Let’s put our cards on the table before we talk business.”
Toast let his gun lower as a gesture of his willingness to co-operate. If he was honest he didn’t like the idea of fighting other humans during this post outbreak world apocalypse. On his way to Raccoon city he had the unfortunate experience that had led to the deaths of two young men plying their trade as highwaymen. It was just a measure of how screwed society was that when zombies were overrunning major population centers and threatening to wipe our humanity there were some that were looking to profit or increase the misery; then there were the pieces of work who did both.
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Post by Rhinn on Aug 22, 2011 12:31:12 GMT -5
Dalton lowered his MP5A2 just a bit. The flash of light really didn’t blind him as it would a regular human, but it was inconvenient. Luckily she dropped the light. He saw Simon lowere his gun and decided that it would probably not be best to open fire. The Lady was talking to someone. Granted, in this day and age, people who spent a lot of time alone, began to talk to themselves, but to Dalton, it sounded like she was passing along information to someone else in her party.
Simon realized it as well as he asked the other person to step out and be identified. Dalton couldn’t blame him and was ready to back him up.
That was amusing, thought Dalton. Just seconds ago, they both had guns trained on each other. Now, they were facing off against a new threat.
“I would look at it more as resupplying than looting, my lady”, said Dalton. “But if you are what you say, a seller of goods and weapons, then I have a question for you. If my Assault Carbine here was straight from the factory, what is the muzzle velocity for it?”
He flashed her his gun briefly, but did not tell her what it was. If she was indeed an arms dealer, then she should know what he was carrying, who made it and the specs.
If not… then he’d have to show her.
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Post by Caliber on Aug 22, 2011 17:24:23 GMT -5
Cel eyed the man's gun from across the room-- it was easily recognizable.
"That, right there, is a Heckler and Koch Mp5. Judging by the fixed synthetic polymer buttstock, it's either the A2 or A4 variant. I don't see a three-round burst option on the trigger grouping, so that would make it an A2. It's likely chambered in the standard nine-by-nineteen millimeter parabellum rounds, rather than ten millimeter auto or forty Smith and Wesson, which would indicate a four hundred meters per second muzzle velocity," she told him. "Also," she began again, "It's a submachine gun, not an assault carbine, as it fires pistol-caliber ammunition," she added. "Convinced?"
Briefly jerking her head to the side, Cel spoke to her companion.
"Let's introduce you to our guests, shall we?"
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Post by Rhinn on Aug 22, 2011 23:04:43 GMT -5
Dalton smiled satisfied that she knew what she was talking about. He aimed his gun at the ceiling. He hadn't seen anything, but he had heard the ceiling creak under the weight of someone moving. He assumed that someone was in the rafters, ready to pounce.
"And yes, it would be good for your associate to come out. Then we can talk about weapons."
He waited for that person to appear.
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Post by Mikey on Aug 22, 2011 23:48:47 GMT -5
Quicksilver listened to the conversations going on below him. He had managed to slip over the doorframe and onto the ceiling of the room everyone had congregated to. He had heard everything that had been said since the ramp had opened, he knew they were dealing with one man and one who wasn’t quite a man. Even his smell gave him away. He didn’t smell like a human, but he didn’t smell like a zombie. Contrary to the rotten flesh smell they emanated, there was another smell beneath it. He was pretty sure human’s could pick up on it, but he could smell it a mile off. It was similar to pheromones, something he could smell quite easily as well.
Tensing the muscles in his hands and feet, he no longer held to the ceiling. Falling to the ground with a quiet thud, the result of only weighing a hundred pounds. His outline was seen, the subtle ripple in the air that was him while cloaked, he slowly began to fade back into sight.
Holding his hands to his sides to try and remain non threatening, he was still ready to attack if anyone felt the need to attack him. They were expecting humans as her guards, not a BOW.
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Post by Rhinn on Aug 23, 2011 10:24:38 GMT -5
Dalton spun around, twice as fast as any human and had his gun out aimed at the person's chest in less than a second.
Person, yeah right. This person had just appeared out of nowhere behind him. With even asking, Dalton knew that this person had been "changed" just like him... though his attributes seemed to be more advance. The being's skin was a silvery color and his eyes were red. He was small, probably weighing in at only a 100 lbs and less than 5 ft 6 in tall.
Even with as small as he was, Dalton knew that this being had some power to him.
Through this all, he remembered not to open up with a mag of 9mm on him. When the man did not move, Dalton lowered his gun again.
A smirk appeared on his face. "Nice adaptation. I bet you are killer at hide and seek. Remind me not to go to the bathroom without knowing where you are at."
Dalton turned back around to the woman. "So any more surprises, Miss, before we look at those guns that you have?"
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Post by Caliber on Aug 23, 2011 20:46:08 GMT -5
Cel watched as Quicksilver leapt from the ceiling, then decloaked. She smiled as the men whipped around, started, then listened as one of them spoke.
"Hmmm," Cel said, tapping her chin, then briefly glancing over her shoulder. "Nope, it looks like I've ran out of BOWs," she joked. "Although, my stock of weapons might qualify as a surprise in itself, you'll see."
Cel made brief eye contact with Quicksilver, implying that he should watch her back. Whipping around, she took lead, making her way toward the front entrance, as the other men followed. Stepping through the shattered windows of the front doors, they made their way out into the street, and toward the Stryker. Still ahead of the group, Cel raised a small remote control toward the back of the APC, then firmly pressed a button. The Stryker's loading door lowered to the ground, making a ramp, as usual.
As Cel walked inside the APC, shrugged her Krinkov off of her shoulder, then returned it to its place on one of the gun racks. Walking back out of the APC, she spoke to the small crowd in front of her.
"Take a look," she said, smiling cheekily, as she gestured inside the APC, toward the impossible number of weapons and munitions that lined nearly every inch of the interior.
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Post by Rhinn on Aug 24, 2011 12:02:13 GMT -5
Dalton followed her outside to her vehicle, being only slightly tense at the Silver dude falling in behind him. He was right, it was an Army surplus vehicle... a Stryker. She had converted it to a mobile arms store and he was impressed by what she had accumulated inside. As he looked around, he saw that the undead were starting to mass towards their location... the smell of three meals enticing them to congregate.
Dalton wasn't worried... unless he provoked the undead, they wouldn't bother him. It was only if he made loud sounds or quick movements that they would strike out at him... out of instinct.
He moved to the door, but waited to be invited in. He knew how he would feel if someone just entered his ride. Once he was invited to look around, Dalton climbed in.
To say that she had a fair amount of equipment would have been like saying the T-Virus gave you a mild fever.
She had almost anything you could think of. He noticed an M107 sniper rifle that held .50 caliber rounds. It was something that he had trained on while in the British Military. It's range exceptional and with Dalton's eye sight, could be a perfect assassin weapon. There were light and medium machine guns, bladed weapons, handguns, and stacks and stacks of ammo. He was about to inquire about the sniper rifle, when he saw something that made him stop.
There, hanging on the wall with the other handguns was a Deutsche Waffen- und Munitionsfabriken Aktien-Gesellschaft Luger. Dalton picked it up. These were hard to come by in the US but this was was even rarer. It was chambered for a .45 ACP. Dalton flipped it over in his hand and checked the serial numbers. It was 2.
His heart did a flip, but he didn't show it. This was the only gun like in the world. They had been prototypes for the US Army back in 1906. Two were made and the first one was destroyed.
He'd probably only use it in dire circumstances, but it was very collectible and here it was... in Dalton's hands.
"What would you need for this beauty?", he asked, turning back to Cel. He had money, but he also had other items to trade, firearms, gear, some food.
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Lockwood
Alive
There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.
Posts: 46
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Post by Lockwood on Aug 24, 2011 14:17:30 GMT -5
The ballistics of guns was of no consequence to him. Sure he had used or come into contact with alot of guns over the years and he had the knowledge to use most of them, but to him they were but a tool, like the mind or a camp stove to get the mission done. In the end all he was interested in was the end result. Either way, the chauvinist in him couldn’t help be surprised by the fact that this woman knew so much about weapons. However, it wasn’t a ‘normal’ woman who travelled round post-apocalypse America selling guns to whoever they met in derelict stores in the middle of a city full of walking dead. It was a sad fact that little surprised him anymore.
What happened next did surprise him, the air shimmered and another creature de-cloaked. It was the second BOW that he had met in one day. Two mutants were more than enough and this one had some sort of cloaking device and moved like a spider. At least Dalton looked normal, this one was some sort of silver short humanoid with no hair with red eyes. He had known that the arms dealer had backup, but he wasn’t expecting a mutant and especially a cloaked one at that. Toast struggled to contain his awe, he had heard of all kinds of mutation but he had never heard of any organic chameleon mutations. At least the silver BOW wasn’t being threatening, who knew how fast it could move.
Dalton of course found it hilarious, I suppose he had lost the sense of shock or awe when faced with mutants, it was probably inevitable when you were one yourself. Toast couldn’t decide whether today was a good day or not, he was in the middle of a derelict store with nothing of interest with two BOWs and an arms dealer who clearly found the whole situation hilarious.
So they followed the arms dealer out the store towards a US Army Stryker Armoured Personnel Carrier. Probably the legacy of some of the unfortunates overrun in the initial outbreak. He still had not put away his handgun but it was lowered and on safety but the feeling of having the silver mutant behind him made him uneasy. It wasn’t unknown for the freaks that thrived in the anarchy to come up with elaborate plots to trap their victims. Who knew, all these weapons could be the legacy of past victims. It was just another uneasy situation and only added to the fact that while Dalton and he shared a distinct connection he did not trust the superhuman any more than he could throw him.
As Dalton picked up some antique pistol and started his negotiation Toast flicked his view from the silver mutant to past the Stryker at the growing ranks of zeds. The ones nearest them had already noticed them and were heading towards the APC. He wasn’t one to panic but as soon as they started firing more would come and hordes often attracted the larger, nastier products of the outbreak. Uptown Racoon city had already been reported to be a hunting ground for packs of Lickers and home to a few of the larger BOWs that few lived to talk about.
He turned his head and gave a hurried whisper
“Dalton hurry it up, we’ve got a growing audience".
With that he walked into the back of the apc, his eyes scanning the weapons for the right choice. There were a few M4s and other assorted rifles, mostly US issue, hardly surprising. He couldn’t see any silencers and while the rifle was useful, an unsuppressed weapon often led to more trouble when fighting the hordes. Silence, in this case, really was golden.
“Right Miss Arms Dealer, got anything suppressed?”
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Post by Mikey on Aug 25, 2011 8:26:10 GMT -5
Quicksilver’s gaze had met Cel’s and he did as she indicated, hanging back just a bit with his hands seemingly clasped behind his back. In truth, they were each on a blade at his back, ready to draw and deal with any threat to his new… Employer? Hardly, she didn’t actually pay him anything. Not that she would ever have anything he’d want. Friend? Maybe… He hadn’t known her long, but she had let him come along for a ride. And she seemed to be trusting him enough to watch her back. For all she knew, he wouldn’t have a qualm with walking away and leaving her at the mercy of an undead horde, but she was showing some trust. To him, it made her a friend. But, that was coming from someone who would wander around and help survivors for want of social contact. She hadn’t kicked him to the curb yet. That was enough.
They made it to the Stryker, and Quicksilver had a feeling that if they were going to try anything, they would have done it already. His attention instead went to the pad of paper he still had tucked into the back of his pants. He pulled it free and scribbled out a note for Cel, ripping it off the pad and folding it in half to keep them from seeing it as he passed it to her.
‘Bald one doesn’t smell right. Heard conversation, superhuman. Careful.’ He said, the sloppy shorthand the product of trying to get the note out quickly. Just in case. It was good for her to know what she was dealing with as well.
He knew the crowd of zombies was gathering and approaching, and decided to do what he was meant to do. They didn’t bother him, the zombies. Even if he attacked, the worst they would do is swat at him and try to move on. Other creatures, they had some level of intelligence, but the zombies were the lowest of the low on the undead food chain.
Unsheathing the long blade at his side, he looked around for the closest of them. His mind soon formed a plan of attack, and he was able to put it into action in an instant. Running toward the first in his order, he grabbed it by the shoulder and jammed his blade under its chin. It slid in and out with no trouble. Making a U turn and moving toward the other side, he took out another who was drawing close. He could keep this pattern up for as long as they needed. And as long as the zombies either stayed spread out like they were or didn’t number past ten to fifteen, he could handle them all with ease, himself.
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Post by Rhinn on Aug 29, 2011 10:46:17 GMT -5
When the lady didn't respond, Dalton put the gun back and continued looking. Maybe she hadn't considered selling... maybe it was a heirloom, he thought. He watched as the silver dude sprang into action, heading off towards the undead.
Dalton walked to the doorway of the Stryker and noticed a Benelli MR1. It had a typical scope mounted to it and 20 round mag. He pulled his Kukri out of it's sheath and stepped down the ramp. He also saw a Sig Sauer p229 Equinox that he wanted.
"I would like to get that Benelli MR1 and the Sig Equinox. I have a DS Arms SA58 OSW Carbine, 7.62mm, with a folding stock, and three 30 round magazines. I also have 100 rounds of ammo for it."
"I would like to get three 30 round magazines and 100 rounds of ammo for it."
Dalton knew that it was almost an even trade in his mind. The DS Arms was a more powerful gun and the ammo was more expensive. He figured the difference would be made up by the Sig 226, which was chambered for the .40 acp. He figured that the extra clips and 50 rounds would be extra.
Then he noticed movement to the other side of the Stryker.
"We can settle the payment after I deal with them", said Dalton, indicating the mass of undead coming at them from the other side of the Stryker. He ran into the crowd, faster than most humans and began to slice through the crowd, aiming his knife at the necks. In one slice, he dropped two of the undead and then spun and stabbed his blade through eye socket of the third. As the body dropped, he pulled out the K-Bar in his used it as his offhand weapon. He continued to attack the undead, using their slothness against them. His blessing was also a curse. The undead ignored him for the most part, only striking out at him if he bumped them. The bad part was that they were ignoring him, still moving forward to the Stryker, where the lady and Simon was at.
:: EDIT 09/07/2011 ::
Dalton lept back out in front of the horde that was steadily dwindling in numbers. He held out both blades and ran through the crowd, severing heads as he ran. The K-Bar didn't completely sever the head, but it did some gruesome work on the undead. After a few times of running along their ranks, the last of the undead fell to the ground.
A little winded, Dalton grabbed one of the shirts from the dead and tore it from the body. Then he wiped off his Kukri and his K-Bar, before returning them to their sheaths. Then he made his way back to the Stryker.
The silver dude was still working on the undead, and none were getting past. He was impressed with his stamina. As he rounded the corner, he saw Lockwood and Cel still standing there.
"So about that Sig Equinox and Benelli MR1. Does that sound like a decent trade?"
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