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Edited by HickoryHamMike:
7/13/2015 8:01:41 PM
1
[b][i]The man with the blue eyes is getting close to his target. His mind pulsates, his kinetic abilities lustful for something to rip apart.
He turns a corner into a tunnel where a shanty Mafia outpost has been built over a large sewage reservoir. Two rats, one in a greasy white tank top and jeans, carried a Type-14 ((new entry to Weapons database)) submachine gun, while the other, in a dirty tuxedo and fedora, hoisted an M-26 Carbine with an ACOG-2 scope attached to it.
They both turn their attention to the bald man and mutter to each other suspiciously as he strides past the outpost.
"Hey!" one of them barks at the blue-eyed man.
The bald man stops in his footsteps, and tilts his head towards them. "Yes?"
"Come over here." a rat says.
The man now turns to face them. "Why should I? You are rats, and I am man. Why should I follow your commands?"
The rats raise their weapons. "The fuçk did you just say?!"
"Don't worry about it." the man says, and makes their heads combust with kinetic pressure.
Their brains are now sewage, flowing in the dirty river of the stuff, as they always were inside their skulls.
The man with blue-eyes continues walking. [/i][/b]
English
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Clink enters the coordinates in his arm pad for the location of his target. He then checks to see if the synth is trackable yet. As he stares at his screen, he realizes that they are both the same person. This raises many more questions. Why is he being targeted by the mafia? What has he done? Clink knows where he is now, so it is of no matter. He walks down the streets, careful to stay out of the synths path. He comes across two members of another mafia family, the LaDuces. Both of them wield puny 9mm pistols. Using his cyber arms, he rips the guns out of their hands, and with the same movement, uses his second pair of arms to crush the chests of the men before him. He takes the guns, more comforted by the firearms. He walks into the shadows, intent on the murder of one pesky synth.
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((I'll be adding those pistols to the Almanac)) [b][i]The blue-eyed man looked down at his Tac-Pad, went to an ordinance tab, and checked the targets location. His eyes narrowed. He quickly put his back against the wall to an upcoming corner into another passage, and waited there. His target would be coming to the corner any second now.[/i][/b]
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Clink was sure his target was here somewhere. He glanced down at his Tac-Pad. The dot marking the synth was directly next to him. Clink barely had time to dodge the flurry of sewage water that came flying at him. He had found his target.
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The Pursuer quickly turns the corner and holds Clink in the air with kinetic force, stiffening your muscles so your limbs won't move. "We meet again, Cyborg rat. Now tell me: who do you work for? What are your motives?" he asks, his face as emotionless as before.
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Edited by HappyChappy7: 7/14/2015 12:53:10 AM"I could ask you the same. What new kind of synth are you? What's an Insufferable? I won't tell you anything until I know all about you or the person who controls you," Clink replied as he tried to struggle out of the force holding him.
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"I am not controlled; I am ordered. Insufferables are ordered to ruthlessly attempt to complete their set objective, unlike the regular operatives who can get bribed away from completing it. Synths like me are the perfect being for the job. And I am not new; I am the one and only Synth model, and I have probably shown you the abilities you didn't know we were capable of."
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Clink thought things over, as hard as it was to do that suspended in mid-air. "So basically you're a contract killer? Because that's something I'm [i]very[/i] familiar with. I'm guessing you were sent to kill me?"
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"I was sent to kill you, but to also retrieve information on these Mafias. But not by contract: by loyalty to my... authorities..."
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"Authorities? Like who? Another mafia family? How did they get the funding to even make you? Tell me, or I won't say a word."
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"I work as a sentinel of the Monarch, cleaning Cedyetica of pests like you. Now what are your allegiances, your motives?"
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"You know who I work for. Don Falcone. The head of the biggest mafia empire the Sewers have ever seen. You kill me, and I guarantee you, all hell will break loose."
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"Hell doesn't matter to us. Our forces can be something deeper than there. And thank you for your information. I will kill you quickly now for your cooperation, disintegrate your entire body so your rats won't have a clue of what happened to you. But before that," the Pursuer tightens the muscles in your arms and legs to completely immobilize them. "Any last words? Any last confessions?" [spoiler]Think clearly about the situation at hand. I sense at least one way to escape this.[/spoiler]
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Clink grins widely. "Why yes, I do." At that moment, Clink whistles loudly. Around 15 heavily armed men walk out of cover and aim their impressively powerful weapons at all the critical parts of the synth's body. "I knew you were too powerful for me to overcome, so I brought some backup. Now, I don't want to hurt you. You seem like a nice enough, er, robot, so we'll let you go free, on the promise that you don't bother us anymore. In return, we will cooperate with [i]you[/i] and you exclusively; we don't want to meddle with the law too deeply. We will tell you the location and the main bases of the people you wish to exterminate in the Sewers. If not, I'm afraid my buddies here will blow you to tiny bits before you can use those powers of yours. We can either part as allies, or you dead, and no ground gained for either of us. The choice is yours."
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Edited by HickoryHamMike: 7/14/2015 4:29:00 AMThe Pursuer makes a side-glancing glare at the Mafia gunmen, and then shuts his eyes. "[i]Fool...[/i]" he says. And then, as the Synth scrunches his eyes up in concentration, each of the mens' heads suddenly and spontaneously combust, sending their brains onto the floor and walls, their bodies slumping onto the ground, and their weapons clattering down with them. Then Clink is released from his kinetic grips, as the Pursuer collapses to his knees, gripping his bald head. He grunts and hisses. His face is twisted and contorted. Does he show... pain? "I've outdone myself...!" the Synth breaths heavily. "Damn it..." His eyes open for a moment, and he hyperventilates, and then growls in frustration as his eyes are clenched shut again, his brow furrowed. "I can't move on... Why can't I move to another body?" He then glances up at Clink. "I'm done, rat. Finish me off, I have failed the Monarch. I'm as good as dead."
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Clink looks deep in thought. Suddenly his face lights up. "No. I'm not going to kill you. You said you've failed the Monarch, so there's no point in working with him anymore. Why don't you come and work for us? We can provide protection, not that you need it, and whatever fuels your powers I'm sure we can get. It may not be what you expected, but it's better than the whole of the Family hunting you down for killing 15 of their men. And if you do decide to join us, I'm sure I can put in a word or two with the Don. Those men are probably happier dead. So what do you say? We could work as an unstoppable team, or you can fade into the oblivion, knowing that you failed your only purpose in life. I hope you make the right choice. I'd rather not have the Monarch after me." Clink, glad to have his arms back, readies them for any backlash from the synth. He stands, waiting for an answer.
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The Synth looks up at you miserably, his head dipped low. "Working... With a rat...? Working..." He stares at the ground in deep thought. He ponders over who's side his fate will meet: dying by the Monarch, or working with the Mafia. Working... After a flinch of mental pain from his KAP-8 deficiency, the Synth glances back up at you. "I was made to serve... To do the bidding of the ones who made me what I am. But you've made me realize something, Cyborg. Realize that I can be something else, something that can still work." He pauses. "I was made to work, rat, and I want to work. So I will join you." He then ducks down and growls as another pulse of pain hits him.
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Clink grins and helps the synth to his feet. "I knew you would come around," he said. Let's get you to the safehouse." Clink, with his arms supporting the synth, walks to the closest safehouse. Along the way, he gets ahold of Pax again. "Hey Pax, I got someone. He's a new type of synth, but he's not doing so well. He needs KAP-8, like [i]right now.[/i] Can you grab some on your way here? I'm going to the safehouse on Wayward St." "Sure can, Clink. Are you sure this guys trustworthy?" Pax asked. "Well, he just asked me to kill him for betraying the people he worked for, so I'm pretty sure we're fine there," he said. "Just get some KAP-8 and get here." Clink hangs up and gets to the safehouse a few minutes later, comforting the synth when his withdrawal attacks happen. "Well, I guess that now since you're one of us, you need a name. Any suggestions?"
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The Synth rubs his head in pain. "My unit code is ISO-141, codename Jax. So I guess you can call me one of those."
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"Sounds good, Jax. You and me are gonna be real good buddies. There's nothing like murdering some scoundrel to bring people together." At that moment, Pax walks in the door. He hands Clink a pack of 50 pills. "This should be good enough for a while." "Thanks, Pax," says Clink. He takes 3 pills out and hands them to Jax, who immediately swallows them. Clink is unsure of whether Jax is better or not, due to his emotionless face. His curiosity is soon dispelled when Jax says,"Thanks. I really needed that." "No problem," replied Clink. "We'll have Pax here take a look at you, see what you really are and what's inside you, and I'll go talk to Falcone. We can get started a week from now. That should give you time to get more pills and get you moved in. You'll stay at my house. It's pretty big for the Sewers, so you'll have your own room and stuff. Hey who knows, after a while, you may even get emotions," Clink remarked with a grin.
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Jax sits on a table, staring at Clink, and then glances at Pax. "If you open me up, you better seal me shut afterward." he says.
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Pax laughs. "Don't worry, you won't notice the difference. I'm just curious as to what makes you work."
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Jax narrows his eyes. "Alright then."
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Pax gestures. "Follow me, then." He walks into another room. Jax gets up and follows. 3 hours later, Pax walks in, an exited look on his face. "Clink, he's a bomb. Literally. He functions off of a small amount of nuclear power. It makes him function better than any synth out there. It also makes him the most powerful thing in our history. If one bullet gets past his armor, it has enough force to wipe out all of Neo Centra." "Well then, better get him some top of the line armor, because I don't want to be next to him when he goes off." At that moment Jax walks in. "Your man here did a good job of patching me up," he remarked.
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"Wait... I am... A bomb?" Jax says. His eyes widen as he ponders over why his previous authorities wouldn't tell him that. And wouldn't that be too risky of a mechanism to place in a random Synth operative's body? Did the Monarch have plans to destroy the Sewers with such a powerful weapon? "Am I powered by this nuclear energy?" Jax asks quickly.
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Pax nodded. "It's what keeps you going. It's nearly inexhaustible. You could go for centuries without wearing down. The people who made you probably had a plan to detonate you sometime later. But being destroyed accidentally isn't really an issue. To stabilize the nuclear energy running through your body, they had to make your endoskeleton out of the best metal money can buy. You're more or less invincible, unless someone hits you with a vortex grenade. But what I'm worried about is that somewhere in this city, there's a detonator. And whoever holds that is a very dangerous person. It's most likely one of the Monarch's men, and once they find out you've gone to us, well, there'd probably be no more Sewer."
