Author Topic: A Close Call (Flint and Hawkeye)  (Read 246 times)

Mad Murdock

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Re: A Close Call (Flint and Hawkeye)
« Reply #30 on: February 09, 2019, 01:27:15 AM »
Hawkeye silently aided Aria as she begun her mining attempt.  However, his silence wasn't forever as she begun a tangent about his oath.  He wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind to be accepting of critique of his actions, or lack thereof, so Aria's confrontation here was less than favourable.
"Aria, if you took a moment to assess the situation in full," he begins while giving her more room, "you'd be aware of who initiated the firefight."  He wasn't wanting to point blame at Flint, but truth be told, Hawkeye hadn't done anything.  Be it the worst thing, or the best thing for his defense, the doctor hadn't moved a muscle.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't begin assuming when you haven't gathered all the facts; isn't that something we learn in medical school?" he hated himself for reminding her, "sorry, that was harsh..."

He rubbed his face as Flint asked about his well-being. What could he say- the truth? That he was tired beyond belief. That he was scared? That he was blaming himself for Flint's position right now?
No, he couldn't pile that onto Flint.  Hawkeye instead flashed the most convincing smile he could conjure, "you worry about you.  Let's get that bullet out eh?"  Though Aria was saying there was no bullet-?!
"What-?" Hawkeye glanced to Aria in alarm before conjuring a pair of tweezers himself, "that's impossible-" though, that man had conjured, was it possible to conjure ammunition? Hawkeye hadn't ventured into knowledge of firearms to know for certain.  Though Aria confirmed his fears. Crap...
"He's a conjurer; why hadn't I realised!?" The doctor mentally kicked himself as he complied to Aria's instructions, "I never laid a finger on that man, Aria.  All we did was stand in a hall.  He was the one to fire a gun."
though is his words stuck, he didn't know.  He was busy looking for the device to then take back to Ms Kane.






Ximena’s voice rang through the air toward him again, grating on his nerves like a serrated chisel; sharp, jagged, and dragging agonisingly slowly.  Just the sound of her mockery triggered nasty, painful, buried memories to rise back to the surface, causing Rico to grimace and then growl lividley as she mentions his face.  His face that she banana'd up.  The soldier was in the right mind to carve Ximena’s cheeks in the same fashion, and possibly severe her throat in the process.  Just the thought of having her blood wash out on the pavement, watching her choke on her words, and rejoicing as her eyes lose their focus was addicting.  But he couldn’t do it now, not in his current state, and not somewhere so public.

Her footfalls drew closer, her voice smugly taking the lead, and the tapping scrape of a blade gave away her position.
Rico pushed away from the wall with a wince; the gun loaded and levelled toward the mouth of the alcove, poised to fire at the first sign of her. Though his palms were clammy, he was unpleasant excrementting bricks with every moment she drew nearer.  He knew what she was capable of, but the extent of her demented technique went beyond his comprehension… what else could she do to him- what were the consequences this time?  Rico was honestly scared.  More so than having any Necromancer on his tail; Ximena trumped all else. Fates worse than death were taunting him from around the corner...
His plans were crumbling as fast as he’d compiled them while he realised what the hell that woman was insinuating.  And then her dialect switched-
     ”¿Por--”
No, NO!
She wasn’t going to win. He wasn’t going to become a mindless puppet, not again!
In a moment of sheer panic, Rico’s adrenaline aided him in recoiling his shotgun to hold right beside his ear.  There, he pulled the right trigger; one shell blasting out, and the sound at close proximity completely burst his eardrum. The pain had him cave in on himself as he tried to hold his head together.  He couldn’t hear anything, it was as if he’d instead dunked himself into a drum full of thick, sound proof gunk.  His knuckles slipped down his cheek as he regained his stance, as if he really had been for a dive in his imaginary drum.  But no, upon inspection, he realised it was blood.
unpleasant excrement.
"Your grasp of the English language never ceases to amaze me" - LovedthenhatedErskine [27 May 2015]

*i've got a question for you; do you think that even the worst person can change?
*heh...
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Gideon

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Re: A Close Call (Flint and Hawkeye)
« Reply #31 on: February 09, 2019, 04:43:54 AM »
Ximena jumped backwards as the bass report of a shotgun went off just a few feet from her, knife raised. But the wall didn’t disintegrate, and neither did her face, as far as the vampire could tell at least. No... this was something else entirely. Had Classified gone and blown his brains out? Would she walk around the corner to see her oh so useful weapon with half a head?
”De ninguna manera...” She said to herself in astonishment, quickly regaining her composure as she came around the corner to see Rico with his entire head, but bleeding profusely from his ear. ”Santa mierda!” She exclaimed, Rico had blown out his fishing eardrum with that shotgun blast to stop himself from hearing the trigger phrase, and was now leveling a shotgun directly at her.
Son of a dog of female orientation.
Ximena wasted no time, as much fun as a little bit of foreplay could add to such a sweet reunion, she wasn’t planning on being blown in half by her own assassin, not today. She dove to the right of him, knife flashing towards the vulnerable tendon and nerve in the crook of Rico’s elbow.

Flint

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Re: A Close Call (Flint and Hawkeye)
« Reply #32 on: February 12, 2019, 07:11:52 PM »
By the time Athena rounded the corner, the blast of a shotgun rang through the alleyways, and another woman was pouncing on her target. Athena raised a brow as she watched them tussle for a moment. She was no Sanctuary agent, Athena could tell. She knew her Cleavers, and she knew her colleagues who worked under Prime Detective Daunt. This woman was something else.
The Cleaver General retreated once more, moving to one of the men she'd beaten and taking his handgun before quickly returning to the fight that was going on behind her. Gritting her teeth tight, the Greek fired two shots in the air, cursing herself for forgetting earplugs.  A dull hum in her ears, she looked at Ximena and Rico sternly, wondering how they'd react. Either she'd avoid a three way fight that could get her injured, or she could chase the duo into the clutches of her Cleavers. Either way, Onyx wasn't ready to let either of them go without some answers

Mad Murdock

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Re: A Close Call (Flint and Hawkeye)
« Reply #33 on: February 12, 2019, 09:24:54 PM »
A message obnoxiously flashed in his peripheral vision, threatening to sabotage his frantic concentration. Though the soldier had no sense of direction, he was bewildered to say the least, only until his brain caught up on what the hell was happening.
Rico managed to register that his right ear was completely banana'd.  It was numb, and he could hear absolutely nothing. His left ear was no better as it screamed like an alarm, rendering him completely deaf.
This was bad, he needed his hearing as much as he needed his sight. However, on the plus side, he hadn’t heard his trigger. But now he couldn’t hear anything.

Conclusion, he was banana'd.

The message was from Aria;
      Robocop: This is a mess, Rico. What the hell is going on? Are you safe? It's absolute bedlam here...
It blared on the edge of his sight, though he had more dire things to be worried about. Such as the vampire that rounded the corner as he raised his attention toward her. He noticed Ximena caught wind of his shotgun, and adjusted her trajectory before Rico had a chance to register her movements.
Without his hearing he hadn’t heard her coming, however his sight was still impeccable. The gun was immediately fired during Ximena’s moment of assessment. It’d been aimed perfectly at the vitals in her chest, however her speed, with Rico’s disorientation, the short-range shell blasted off course.

In the next breath, the soldier caught sight of the Cleaver general rounding the corner. In her hand was a gun pointed upward, but he hadn’t heard the shots.  That fact alone terrified him.
Before he could assess Ximena, or finish her off, Rico instead took this as his chance to retreat.
Though his exit wasn’t graceful. He stumbled backward, narrowly missing the knife honed in on the crook of his arm, jarring his ribs once more, and shuffled to the wall again. His snub-nose shotgun disappeared and in its place he conjured another flash grenade.  Pain flared in all sorts of places, and it was seriously setting him back.  He wouldn’t be able to take much more of this, not with his injuries.  Any other day he’d continue to fight, but he knew when he’d had his fill.
Rico was pressed up against the wall as he caught his pained breath, and calculated the measures he’d need to take in order to get across this next street.  If anyone dared to come near him, the grenade would be thrown; no doubt about it.  It wouldn’t only disorientate the women hotwired to attack him, but also create a distraction for Rico to reach Dean’s Yard just across the small street.  It was an open area, though it was Rico’s best chance.
"Your grasp of the English language never ceases to amaze me" - LovedthenhatedErskine [27 May 2015]

*i've got a question for you; do you think that even the worst person can change?
*heh...
*here's a better question for you

*D O  Y O U  W A N T  T O  H A V E  A  B A D  T I M E ?