Faclan
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Everyone's Favorite Space Chicken
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Post by Faclan on Mar 4, 2017 2:21:37 GMT -6
Sorry for taking awhile to get this up peeples For March, since we have had a Drabble and a short story contest now, the contest shall be up to the user to decide! You may either make a drabble or a short story. If we have enough entries they will be judges separately but if we only have a few they would be judged together. For the Subject it shall be free form. So pretty much a fully open Month. Have fun
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SPARTAN-A120
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The One Who Vanishes
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Post by SPARTAN-A120 on Mar 5, 2017 0:03:38 GMT -6
Drabble or Short Story?: Short Story Created by: SPARTAN-A120 Theme: Alternate Worlds Genre: Science Fiction (OOC: This was the exact copy that I had written for my Alternate Worlds class during my Freshman Year of college and received a good rating from my professor so… enjoy!) Original Date of Publication: December 4th, 2013 Audio log: one. Day one. I am Sergeant First Class Marcus Valentine. I serve in the United States Army’s First Special Forces Operational Detachment – Delta. I am a marksman within Specter Team which is a four-man team. We work alongside Ghost Team and together we are known as Phantom Squad. We have a force of eight soldiers in total. Two days ago, I’ve been ordered by the President to conduct reconnaissance on Ghost Team. It is vital that I keep this confidential from anyone, even Phantom Squad themselves. The reason why I am spying on Ghost Team is because they are suspected of performing acts that are not… human… during combat operations. I know this is espionage against allies, but direct orders from the POTUS cannot be refused. This audio log will record my findings as it is the only device that’s securely encrypted by DARPA tech. So far, there is nothing significant going on today. My team and Ghost Team inserted via High Altitude – Low Opening onto one of the numerous mountains of Afghanistan. Current time is 2247 hours, local. Operation Rattlesnake starts at midnight. Our mission is to kill or capture a Taliban commander hidden in a village eight kilometers, North East, of our current location. I have to return to our camp now. Sergeant Valentine, signing off. Audio log: three. Day one. Our mission was successful. We captured the Taliban commander in one piece. Current location is FOB Scorpion. Current time is 0314 hours. Nothing significant to report, yet again. Although, I have been having problems with my comms. Had been hearing static once in a while. Apparently, my Freq knob was tuned into a dead frequency. I thought my electronics were fried by an EMP during the Op. Ain’t that something? Valentine, signing off. Audio log: five. Day four. Operation Zeus’ Lighting. The mission was to destroy the enemy anti-air assets and crippled their communications so that the Seventy Fifth Rangers and Air Force could clear the area so that Allied Forces can have a clear space to insert and extract units that were already in the AO. During the operation, I could’ve sworn I saw Staff Sergeant Patterson get shot in the left side where his armor left him exposed. I saw him take a knee, but a few seconds later, he got back up and continued returning fire against the OPFOR. When Staff Sergeant Rucker, Ghost Team’s medic, checked Patterson after the firefight, there was no wound. There was only a blood stain and a small hole where the bullet had impacted. What surprised me was that Patterson and acted as if nothing had ever happened. I don’t think they saw me witnessing this. In addition, Captain Fisher, Ghost’s Team Leader, either ran Track for high school or trained hard in his agility because he was very light on his feet; running quickly between cover with roughly fifty pounds of gear on him. He was faster than any Olympic Track runner I had ever seen. I will continue my recon on Ghost Team further. Got a new high-definition helmet camera from Lieutenant Colonel Dawes during debriefing back in Camp Albany. Hopefully, I can capture what I witness during operations and send the recording straight to the Pentagon. I think the President was right about the team. Signing off, Valentine. Audio log: six. Day seven. Camp Mountain Lion. After conducting a training exercise with Ghost Team, I reviewed the footage I recorded. I could not believe what I saw. Throughout certain portions of the video, operators of Ghost Team appeared as faintly blue figures. I thought it was because of the Infrared Strobes playing havoc with the feed, but we were training without strobes under low-light conditions. Strobes were not permitted. When I reviewed the footage of my team, everyone was clearly and vividly visible as the camera automatically transition to NV when not enough light was detected by its sensors. There was also a strange static that occurred throughout the footage now and then. After a few minutes of tedious rewinding, fast-forwarding, and pausing on my laptop, I got a hint of why there was static at certain points in the video and why members of Ghost Team appeared as blue figures. My guess was that Ghost Team was employing mobile jammers so they could disrupt enemy comms and disable recording devices when in proximity. That was how they were able to ambush part of the OPFOR team in the warehouse without any interference from the second OPFOR team who were standing by outside. I’ll be sending this footage to the Intelligence Office in D.C. via encrypted email, today, along with my previous audio recordings. Sergeant Valentine, signing off. Audio log: ten. Day twelve. Camp Mountain Lion. I asked Sergeant Patterson about their mobile jamming devices. I was surprised when he said that his team was not carrying any kind of jammer. He was confused and started asking each of his team members about possessing a mobile jammer. They all denied using one. Patterson then asked me why I wanted to know about a mobile jammer so I avoided answering with the helmet-cam related situation and lied by replying with the assumption that I had radio signal whenever I got near them during the training exercise a few days ago. I thought he gave me a suspicious look and he said in return, “Probably have a faulty battery.” Later that day, during live-fire firearm drills at the Camp’s range, I was pulled out by Captain Fisher. He asked me to stop harassing his men. I didn’t want to get struck with insubordination so I complied and responded appropriately. Something suspicious is definitely happening with Ghost Team and something tells me they are holding back secrets. We both returned to the range and finished the drills. I honestly couldn’t sleep tonight. That’s why I’m up and recording. That’s all for now. Valentine, signing off. Audio log: thirteen. Day fifteen. Operation Pouncing Panther. Ghost Team was ambushed while infiltrating into the AO. I thought they were goners when an RPG struck the building they were taking cover in. It surprised me that they ran across the street through the smoke and rubble to regroup with my team. The insurgents had the entire squad pinned down in a two story building. Ghost Team disappeared after another RPG struck our building. A few moments later, the gunfire ceased and my team cautiously surveyed the locations where the OPFOR were firing from. Our comms crackled and we heard Captain Fisher advising that the area was all clear. During our ride home in a UH-60 from the 160th SOAR, my team leader, Captain Peterson, asked a question I would never ask because of my previous experience with Ghost Team in the range back in Camp Mountain Lion. Peterson asked how in the world did Ghost Team flank and eliminate the enemy while under heavy fire. Captain Fisher replied on the behalf of his team and said the guardian angels were looking over them. My team gave their thanks to Ghost Team for saving their asses, but I was not at all satisfied with the answer Captain Fisher gave. There was something more to it and I have to find out. Valentine, signing off. Audio log: fourteen. Day sixteen. Fort Bragg, North Carolina. I managed to plant a bug in the private room where Delta and other SF held meetings away from the general public. This was totally going in too deep, but it was necessary if I was going to find out the true nature of who... what Ghost Team really were. “You know why you’re here,” said Captain Fisher. “Specter are starting to catch wind of our abilities.” “It’s not your fault, Top. We all had some close calls. Don’t take the blame on yourself,” Sergeant Patterson insisted. “He’s right, sir. But, we can’t hide our abilities forever. Have you seen Valentine with his helmet-cam? I think he has everything he needs to expose us,” said Master Sergeant Holmes. “I don’t think so, Holmes,” Fisher replied. “Valentine seems like he’s a good character. Yet, I do agree with you. Valentine can expose us, but he’ll need more than a few distorted vids to do so.” There was a long pause that took place. No audible movement, speech, or breathing even took place. After what seemed like minutes, the audio suddenly filled with static. I was dumbfounded. I didn’t know if they found my bug or what. At the time, I was listening in with earphones as if I was listening to music on my phone, but then I heard a voice… and it didn’t come from the ear phones. It was from behind. “Why can’t Specters and Ghosts get along?” Chills ran up my spine as I swiftly pivoted and went for my sidearm holstered on my hip, but no one was there. I̶̥͙͋͝ͅ ̷̭̣̦̂̌͊͂͜͝w̶̻͔̺͙̉̒͊ȧ̶̧̹̜̟̊͋͐́͝ş̷̡̮̫̫̈͆͆̑ ̸̙̭͚̭͆͗b̷͉͈͛e̵͔̘̫̜̘͆͌̎̓g̶̨̾i̴̖͕̫͑̎̎n̶͎̪̥̰͐́n̶̛̘̑̓̆ì̶̛̞̀̈̀̌n̵͙̺̔͘g̸̡̯͍̟̗͑̀͛ ̷̫̩̬̽̽͑̀͘͝t̷͕̼̃̔o̴̮̙͚͚̾ ̴̨̛̭͈̟̖̙͌͌w̶̙̲̼̔o̷̙̩̙͔̰̪̐ŕ̸̛̗̻̠͉̌̽̊̏ŕ̷̲̼̮̤̙́̿̄ỳ̴̨͍̝͎̓̈ a̶̱͔̩̥͂̄͠b̸͉͐͆̉͠t̶̛͚͉̙͉̱̐͗̀͘͝ ̸͖͚̥͍̙͆m̷͔̙̯̪̋͂̚y̴̡̻̮͑̚ ̵͈͋̉m̷̼͗͌̀i̶͇͈͐̌ŝ̵̩̖͛͘͜s̸̢͖̺̟̍̃̀́̓n̴̺̣̟͑̈́ͅ ̷̡͖͎̖̣͉͠à̸̟̟̱̮͋̒̕ņ̷̮̼̐̏̿d̷̥̦̠͖͖̘̆̓ ̷̝͍͌͌̕w̴̧̘̋̚̕h̶̝̔͋̌̓͛ț̶̣̳̤̥̊̌͑e̷̝̩̺̰͚͌̊͑r̴̛̰̊͌́͌ ̴̮̖̽i̷̟̙͖͙̊̀͝͝f̵̞̰̰͇̾̐͐̿͒ ̴̧̺̠̝͔̐͗͆̌́̚I̴̟̟̬̩̙͊v̷̧̙̑̅͌ ̸̢̛̉̂͘b̶̨̭͉̦̣͕͗̃̌̂ ̶̯̗̫͎̳̒̾č̶̤̖̄̑͝ȍ̴̟m̴̬̬͙͌̃͐͝r̸̥̝̜̺͉̻̍̿o̵̭̜̅͆͛͋͑̓į̴̪̫̜̻̭̉͑́s̴̰̗͚̆̒̕ȩ̶̙̰̬̔̀̀̅̑͊d̷̤̔ ̶̙͎̉̏a̴̪̭̋̑͒̔͛̀ş̷̹̳̠̼͆j̵̡̡̖͈̓̋̔̍͂͗ͅk̴̯̦̲̮̲̚h̴̟͈̔͐͋͗͘͘ͅf̸̜̠̥̟̆̂̾̚d̸̗͔͂ ̴̰͙̊̔̒b̸̙͈͉͇͖̾͒́͛̑͘ṿ̸̧̐ą̸̉̂͂͒ ̶͔̺͙̲́̅̌̔͐͘l̷̢̜͈̭͛͊̾͘s̴̡̝̤͇̙̒͐̍̏̅͝l̶͇̽̔͒̀̏̚d̴̗͉͖̥̲͒̋̾̊̕e̵̡͙͓̰̹̒̂̐ͅń̴̡̜́͌̇̈́̋f̸͚̰̃͋ 01010111011001010010000001101011011011100110111101110111001000000111100101101111011101010111001000100000011100110110010101100011011100100110010101110100 •-- • -•- -• --- •-- -•-- --- ••- •-• ••• • -•-• •-• • - [Error: Entry not found]
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tento125
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Site's Resident Thai
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Post by tento125 on Mar 8, 2017 23:59:03 GMT -6
Drabble or Short Story?: Good question..... I guess somewhere in between Theme: Post apocalyptic I guess.... Genre: Action Title: Rebellion Jamie Granarus sat quietly beneath the trees, overlooking a stone quarry as a Gengo soldier struck a skinny man with a whip, causing the man to scream out in agony. Still unsatisfied with the man, the soldier kicked the poor man in the gut, resulting in even more screaming. Jamie couldn’t bear watching anymore, he knows how badly the Gengos treat their slaves, he had been one himself. He turned towards his 20 compatriots and pulled his hand down, NOW! All 21 men raised their crossbows, aiming for the nearest Gengo soldier, and fired. 21 bolts flung through the air, 21 Gengo soldiers fell dead. Jamie then cranked the winch on his crossbow, causing the bowstring to move back, put a fresh new bolt in, aimed for the apparent commander of the enemy, who was using his baton to direct the currently disorganized Gengo forces, and pulled the trigger. The bolt hit the commander squarely in his chest, his lifeless body now fell to the ground. Jamie then drew out his Vera short sword, a curved single handed bladed weapon with a total blade length of 30 centimeters, and charged at the still disorganized enemy. One Gengo soldier saw Jamie and drew out his Vora blade, a straightened version of Jamie’s Vera. The Gengo swung at Jamie, aimed for his right shoulder, but Jamie simply parried the Gengo’s blow with his Vera, directing the enemy’s blade to go harmlessly pass his shoulder, and brought his Vera down diagonally onto the Gengo across his chest, instantly killing him. Out of the corner of his eye, Jamie saw 2 more additional Gengo soldiers approaching him from his left, Vora’s at the ready. Jamie slashed at the nearest one, causing the Gengo to break his attack to parry Jamie’s strike. Jamie couldn’t follow up with another strike as the other Gengo thrusted his blade at Jamie’s abdomen. Jamie redirected the blade as he sidestepped, causing the Vora to pass harmlessly pass his left. Jamie then used his free hand to grab on the Gengo’s wrist holding the Vora, pulled the bastard closer, and sliced his throat with the Vera. Jamie then picked up the Vora as the second Gengo raised his, poised to strike Jamie’s head. Jamie raised his Vera in defence as the Gengo brought his blade to connect with Jamie’s. Jamie pushed the Gengo’s Vora upward as he drove his own into the bastard’s abdomen, the blade piercing through to the other side. As Jamie retracted the Vora from the Gengo’s lifeless body, he took this moment of respite to scan his surroundings. The raid was going on extremely well. Despite being outnumbered, Jamie and his fellow compatriots had the element of surprise on their side and had now got the Gengos on the run. Most of the Gengos had by now fled the quarry into the forest, some stayed and fought, but were quickly slain by Jamie’s compatriots, while others, were shot in the back by crossbow bolts in the back as they tried to flee. “The cowards are running” Jamie heard a voice call at him as he sheathed his Vera. He looked around and found its origin: Parisan Vevola, one of the best archers Jamie had known. “Shall we give chase?” “No” Jamie replied “Let them live up to the cowardly status they hold” “Roger that. And what of those that surrendered?” Jamie looked around to see 5 of the Gengo soldiers herded towards a shallow pit by his compatriots. “Kill them, but save one. General Nam could use some intelligence” Parisan snickered as he passed the word for the executions. The cries of begging for mercy soon echoed through the quarry as the surrendered got word of their fate. Now…. Jamie thought to himself as he turned his attention towards the hundred or so slave workers he and his compatriots liberated, scratching his head. What the fuck am I supposed to do with them?((Bit short I know, its supposed to be the prologue of a new novel I'm working on. Anyways, hope you enjoyed))
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MrKill
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The Site dad
Guardian
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Post by MrKill on Mar 9, 2017 8:15:21 GMT -6
StoryScience FictionAction 'The Fall'So I was going to post this story here, but since it features some... stronger language, I thought I'd just post the google document I am working on. docs.google.com/document/d/1ZJx3gPw-ovJTC7sdnEs2-vo_H_SNZrWMM1_T-wjcJ04/edit?usp=sharinghe story is completed now, just read the doc. It's based off a game I used to play, 'Mech Assault', and the spiritual follow up 'Mech Warrior' - a free to play title. Though it is based off those games, it is loosely at best. If this isn't okay, I'll remove this post and change the words so it'll fit here.
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Post by Llau on Mar 21, 2017 0:42:44 GMT -6
Fac and I talked and we decided to extend the date to May 2nd. This way, more people can join in and post their drabbles or short stories if they wish. - Llau
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Post by blackshot on Mar 27, 2017 9:23:14 GMT -6
Drabble or Short Story?: Short Story Created by: blackshot Theme: Religion Genre: Military Science Fiction Title: Weapons of Heaven
The Archangel Michael stared down on the Planet below. Gold armor glistened in bright light as the rays of the sun hits it. Blue eyes wandered around the bright orange continent of the planet. It reminds him exactly of Earth, blue oceans, humid weather, and...Human-like beings. But the planet will never ever be equal to Earth, be second to it for that matter.
His right hand rests on the hilt of his Burning Blade, sheathed to its gold scabbard. Brown hair scattered itself as the gentle winds blew. Heaven was located on another dimension somewhere in space. Only those Angelic or those who have Angelic-DNA could access it.
Using his enhanced vision, he watched the northern isles of the Planet. Armed bandits firing at innocent civilians. On the right, monsters were conducting attacks against the local militia, led by the Gods who forcefully tried to subject the people of that city under their tyrannic rule. On the other side, the Demons of Hell were carrying out massacres after massacres. Michael knew that the Planet was slowly falling into Demonic Corruption.
"Brother," Archangel Gabriel called as he appeared beside him. The Strength of God was wearing the same armor as he. The Second Reformation requires them to wear uniformed armors, unlike the First one where they only wear half-naked colorful armors that makes them look like barbarians. "What are your orders?"
"Send in the Legiovus Protektovares." He replied without hesitation.
Legiovus Protektovares, the Minor Enochian for Legionnaire Protectorates, are Humans who were purified to wear the Tactical Armor Gears originally built for the Powers of Heaven but was converted for Humans when it was proved to be destructive at the hands of the mortals. The wearers are preferably earthlings, not from other dimensions or God-knows-where.
"Is that all?"
"And send in the 77th Chalice Regiment of the Battlegroup Niniveh. It was the only Power Unit near this dreaded Planet."
"As ordered." Gabriel replied before leaving.
Michael grinned, but his grin contained disdain and fury, not happiness and excitement. He was angered at the fact that the Demons has chosen the innocent planet for their sickening activities.
Down below, the Hellfire Marines of the 666 Brigade charged at the defending Platoons. Under the leadership of the Demon Kerzah, the Brigade tore down everything in its path.
The Marines were visible in its bright orange armor. Their burning skulls are encased on a round glass, similar to that of the Terran Marines in Starcraft. Each of them are armed with Blast Rifles, loaded with Titan Forge Bullets, ammunition created using Hades' powers and also imbued with Zeus' lightning. Speaking of Gods, it seems like the Odin, the Baphomet and Poseidon was also present in the battlezone.
As the Hellfire Marines came to a close, they fired their guns and obliterated the first line of defense, destroying the men of Planet Charzoka. The second line suffered the same fate and the third one too as the Demons mowed down men after men.
One of the Demonic Marines, Kaziol, aimed at a child and fired without hesitation. He turned to his right and fired at young helpless maiden. He aimed in front and fired at an armed man. His frenzy could not be extuingished. The itch to kill is so strong that it was irresistible.
Soon enough, the skies opened, a golden light shone through. The earth shook, threatening to open up. Figures of Angels in full body armor came down, weapons at hand.
Protectorate Blackshot landed down on the ground, leaving the ground cratered. He was on his Angelic Form, wearing the form of the Archangel of Destruction, Arbarel, who belonged to the clandestine 11th Choir. The Angelic Forms looked robotic in nature, because they were robots, golems and puppets of war created by God. At the end of Old Testament, and before the Judgement Era, the 11th Choir mysteriously disappeared. Only Michael and God Himself knew about them.
Blackshot stood up, bright wings covered his armored body. The glowing red 'eye' on his headgear was pulsing, as if it was going to shoot something. The other Protectorates landed behind him, slowly standing up to reveal their menacing Angelic Forms. One looked like a winged Master Chief, the other, a winged Samus Aran. The other Protectorates landed down, all standing in defense of the people of Charzoka.
"Rally to me, Brothers." Blackshot says, voice amplified disturbingly as if he gargled cigarettes for fifty years. "Return the 'greetings' to them. They tested the fury of Heaven. Let our wrath be our weapon and let judgement befall upon them!!"
The Protectorates transformed to their human forms, revealing soldiers in black armors trimmed in different colors. They were varying in age. But nonetheless, they were a force to be reckoned with.
Blackshot raised his Empyrean Glock Pistol and fired at the nearest Hellfire Marine, bursting its chest open. The other Protectorates engaged the enemies swiftly.
The Protectorates shared the same mind; their memories and conscience are collected in a single device that makes them think like one, making synchronization of moves their deadliest deal against their foes. They are created to exert combat superiority over others. Even the Gods tremble at the sight of them. The Protectorates, no merely humans, were augmented with a powerful exosuit that could withstand attacks of all kind. It acted as their second skin and second body. The very same suit also allows them to contact and share memories to one another. They literally see every corners of the battlezone. They fight with pure savagery and hatred. They even earned the moniker, "Savages".
Red Blood and Greaseout fired their Chain Gun rifles at the Marines, taking them down in one stream of bullet shower. Axis hopped over a dead militiaman as she landed a fist at a Marine's visor, denting it with a crack. She sent an uppercut and a push kick before blowing the Marine away with a blast of flames.
Another Protectorate invoked harsh blizzards at a group of Marines, covering them in snow. The other Protecotrates moved up to finish them.
They advanced as if they had no lives. They tore through enemy lines with brutal effectiveness. The enemies are forced to withdraw as the Protectorates chased them but they find no escape as the Powers of Heaven, clad in heavy armor, landed on the ground in the same manner as the Protectorates. They had blocked the 666 Brigade from their escape. No one lives, no one runs.
They were created to protect Heaven and its Hosts. The Humanity, Earth and her colonies were under their protection as well. Wherever they go, they leave destruction. God has given them power over nature to allow them to exact His fury against His enemies.
They are soldiers, they are Protectorates. They are the Weapons of Heaven.
(Only a teaser for Weapons of Heaven. It was cut short because I have no ideas left on what to add to this post XD And you might ask, yes, the name of this account is based on Protectorate Blackshot)
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Post by Llau on Apr 21, 2017 19:43:28 GMT -6
11 more days left before this thread will be closed, and all entries are voted on.
So, if you have yet to post, and want to participate, you still have plenty of time to do so. - Llau
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Huka
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The Hunter
Covenant Guru
Posts: 1,569
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Post by Huka on Apr 26, 2017 2:34:55 GMT -6
Drabble or Short Story?: Short Story Created by: HukaTheme: Vengeance Genre: Science Fiction "The Night of Betrayal" Rtuvo ‘Tedom moved slowly in the thundering darkness. The City was quiet. The moment Solemn Penance made a sudden callous jump that left at most a garrison in the heart of Human territories without obvious hope of leaving. What was that snake-necked fool thinking? Gods forgive his blamphamous tone. It was already a terrible move to take their meager fleet into unknown space with the promise of possibly one of Holiest of Ancient Artifacts. Now...the fleet was beaten back and communications seemed down. What is worse- The release of firearms cracked in the dark. That distinctive sound of almost ballistics hitting armor and flesh, the screams of Sangheili screams that cut into the Honor Guardsman’s soul. The former commando peeked from the shadows, clad in his blessed stealth harness, to see the most disgusting of offenses; Jiralhanae, dressed in power armor, tribesmen allowed to join Regret in this holy task, executing Sangheili warriors. Six young novices, two Obedientiaries...a number of Unggoy. The sight of it was sickening with the stench of spilled blood in the air and burning fire into Rtuvo’s veins. The gruesome, bloody, toothy smiles on those simian faces as one of them approached the bodies to deliver a clearer shot with a tiny firearm that shot like a human scattergun. A maul, he think they were called. The older Sangheili haven’t had the misfortune to join with these brutish heathens when he was on the field, but certainly killed a number of their leaders during the encountering absorption. All things considered, he hoped their planet were to be glassed when they first thought to fight the Covenant. The Humans were more preferable than them. Now, seeing this, he was correct to have this disdain. When one of the Jiralhanae snorted its wet snout and suddenly looked in his direction. Its eyes wouldn’t see the invisible hunter, but curiosity always drew them close in hopes of more meat for their gluttonous bellies. Closer, closer… However, Rtuvo had moved from the alley. Circling around with a reach back for his quill rifle taken from his would-be killer’s talons earlier on this forsaken orbital cycle. It has been long since he handled one of these, but it felt right. A blade in the night, death in its cold embrace. Swift and perfect to his hands. Each death made marked its metallic skin, the last was nearly ten rotations ago with a dissent who spoke ill of the new Trivirumate. That is what earned his place among the Prophet’s silent guard. A day that both heightened and lessened him. He still don’t know if it is a regret. No matter, there was vengeance to have. With swift feet and a nimble body that haven’t completely lost its muscle-training heaved the nearly six hundred pounds of armored assassin up to an abandoned shop. Perfect elevation to see his prey and shadowed under the much more towering buildings in the metropolis. His visors flipped sights and magnified to ensure that the triumphant apes were still there. They were, the distance was more than acceptable. The covert quill rifle could reach as far as a beam rifle and much more quiet with little trace back. He understood the use of those clickers. Adjusting and mentally calculating, the Tedom marksman had his eye for the leading Alpha and pick them off from there. Aiming, finger upon the trigger and thumbs holding tight, the butt against his purposely shaped pauldron that supported his specialization. Just then, a sound broke his concentration. A whelp of some kind. Must be one of those Unggoy, making the quick second. It was about as tall, lean. Kig-yar? Breaking from his aiming and from the sound of the Jiralhanae, something else. A second look both surprised and baffled the Sangheili. One of the heretics; it was smaller than the normal human encountered. Clothes and head-fur wet from the rain, too weak looking. Information profiles from the Ossoona gave that Humans looked relatively the same in their life cycles till their older phases. This one was...young for a better word. Almost of War College age. What was it doing? The twisted bar of metal, he could see the blue-dripping point enough from his scope. It was ready to fight…The Jiralhanae pack were closing in. They didn’t even find the youngling worthy of their firearms and when they used their hands; these monsters were either mercifully quick...or slow agonizing evil things. That thought transcended notion. No creature deserved that, especially a youngling. Rtuvo lifted his sight, looking down at the human. The tired, almost wild look in his pale eyes under the mat of its - he from the classification reports of gender dimorphism is correct - wavy red locks. Teeth baring. A challenge. Shame.The commando’s trigger finger squeezed tight, the weapon whirled its coil and...
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Post by Llau on May 2, 2017 23:46:27 GMT -6
Thread is now closed for voting. Thank you to all who have participated in this contest. Results will be up soon...ish. xD - Llau
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