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Post by Mister Karma on Jan 15, 2017 17:27:51 GMT -5
November 21st, 206X One year prior to current events...
A small caravan of unmarked, heavily armored vehicles cut through the middle of New Haven in the early hours of the morning. To the civilians of the large city making their respective ways to their daily jobs, this was a military drill by order of the United Commonwealth, and what better way to keep low profiles than using unmarked trucks. That was a Commonwealth practice, after all. Although... Nathan Marshall would have made an official order on public radio 24 hours in advance. Was this some kind of emergency drill that needed to be completed? Maybe the man in Boston would clear things up once the drill was over.
There were six to the caravan today, led by Cpl. Kurt Churchill in the frontmost truck. No one told him which truck hid the "goods" under its canopy, he just knew they needed to transport something of importance to Striper Isles. Besides, this was going to be his last order as official Commonwealth personnel before the "trade" happened. MacFarland kept much in the dark, and the baritone voiced man was infamous for doing such a thing. And I quote...
"Get the goods to the farthest island in Striper Isles. This is your final duty as a Commonwealth soldier. They got us by the balls here, it's get it there or face a war of attrition. Not that it would matter much, we got the numbers to last for weeks. But the bodies they got just keep coming. Get it there."
The order played like a broken record in Churchill's head, hardened brown eyes on the smoothly moving traffic in front of him. His wingman, Lt. Travis Meeks, kept as vigilant an eye out his window. The two were armed with standard issue M1911's and M4's, as were all the personnel part of today's crusade across the state. His gloved hands gripped the tough steering wheel in a white knuckled clutch, his body tingling from the feeling that something didn't feel quite right. It was like static, and it made his short hair stand on end. Meeks peeked over for a moment, his expression mirroring his superior's sensation soon as he saw it. He readied his body should something go south...
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Post by DarkSavior77 on Jan 15, 2017 18:54:45 GMT -5
Cold blue reptilian eyes scanned over the small convoy of unmarked trucks silently, zooming in every now and then to scan plates over and put them into a bank for later should he need to recall the information on his implant. The snake smiled deftly as he confirmed this was a drill of sorts, moving cargo. From the size of it, it was precious cargo. He had snagged information just a few days in advance. Very cloak and dagger. Very appealing. As the trucks rumbled along their route below, the blonde dyed japanese snake sidestepped gently over at a brisk pace to his companion. "That's it, no doubt. I can't make out anything being transported from here. We need a closer look to determine anything of value or not," the snake said softly. "They could be transporting crap for all I care. We need to stop it, and seize it. Useful to us or not, we need to get it out of their hands. It's a setback for them, which is a win for us. You can signal the Yakuza. I'll radio the Undead." The snake nodded mutely once to his commander and backed off, pulling out a cell phone. He dialed in a number and waited for the phone to pick up. "It's a go. They'll be hitting the first check point. Put up a block and a detour at checkpoint two to turn them towards the warehouses. Once they hit the that, and get turned that way, the Undead will step in. Prepare for clean up and cops. I'll call when we're ready," Venom called.
"Wakatta," the burgundy fox on the other end replied. The dark red furred kitsune snapped his phone shut and tucked it away before whistling and rising a hand to wave in a circle to get people moving. A line of safety cones is pulled out across the street to stop the convoy from continuing their normal path. The right street is a one way, leaving the left street the only option for travel. A few other grunt Yakuza manage to drag open a manhole and set a fog machine just inside to start spewing the fog out as if there's a sewer emergency. Others dart the street in hard hats and work vests they bought from a surplus supply store to look the part of workers. The snake throws a thumbs up to his roof companion as he watches the set up. His fox companion pushes a button on a walkie talkie, and begins to chatter into it.
"Checkpoint one clear. Checkpoint two is set. Checkpoint three, be ready for full assault. I want that convoy funneled to the warehouses. Warehouse group, ready for strike." The fox warned.
Countless Undead wait, listening to the radio or their own walkie talkie for the information. Bikes rev, cars idle with lights off while passengers ready guns and get comfortable for a rough ride.
At the warehouse a strange cougar lion hybrid slowly walks to the front shipping doors of the warehouse, a mossburg roadblocker in hand as he whistles the tune of farmer in the dell while fitting a cigar in his teeth and lighting it.
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Post by Mister Karma on Feb 2, 2017 9:39:52 GMT -5
"Corporal, we have what appears to be a detour coming up ahead, approximately 900 meters," came a call over Churchill's headset. The brown-eyed gentleman furrowed his brow, not once keeping his stare off the road. How odd, there weren't supposed to be any detours today. Was there sudden road work that needed to be tended to? Maybe a manhole cover needed to be reworked, or a road repaved? There were Union workers garbed in hard hats and high visibility safety vests, so that must have been it. Whatever the case, Churchill noted the cones ahead cutting off the path, his only option now to lead down a one-way street towards the industrial district. That wasn't exactly a good sign; the warehouse district was notorious for large crime waves even after Mayor Cruxis and his furry fox friend cleaned the streets.
Churchill clicked on his intercom then. "All units, be ready to engage in combat. I repeat, be ready for combat," he warned to every person manning the six vehicles. A series of "Roger that" remarks clicked in over his headset, and all weapons went at the ready.
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Post by DarkSavior77 on Feb 23, 2017 17:01:56 GMT -5
As the caravan began to rumble past two Undead looked to one another before revving up and pulling out behind the last truck with a loud roar of motorcycle engines. On their backsides, riding along, their passengers swung forward armaments. The clack clack clack of a submachine gun staccato'd loudly over the engines. Their aim bit along the back of the last truck. As if it was a signal, dozens of others joined. An old truck zipped into the other lane, chasing up alongside the caravan quickly to reach the lead truck. A heavy six barreled machinegun sat in the bed of it and pivoted to face the broadside of the lead car before it whirred to life. And fire began to freely sing forth to bite into the truck. The opposite side was harried by a motorbike as it swerved around obstacles on the sidewalk and its passenger shot along the bottom. As the aim began to head for the tires the bike's driver elbowed its passenger shooter. "Not the tires. We need it to keep moving to the point first," the lion growled over his shoulder.
Any turn the caravan would try off the path they had planned would see the truck pushing to keep it on course, driving its front side in to herd it. The other streets were blocked by even more cars and guns to spit at them and make them reconsider trying to go through. A full on barricade of assault kept them heading to the warehouse.
Above them all a fox and snake watch, directing to the grounds below when to press the attack and back off, and which street blockers need to ready to keep the train going. Hoping for now that the casualties are low to none. "Take out as many of the retaliations as you can; but leave the drivers able to continue to drive. We need them to make it to the warehouse at all costs. We don't have time to recover stopped vehicles along the way," Aruka directed into his walkie talkie. "They are almost to the warehouse. We should get moving," Kinji said with a nod in the general direction. Aruka nodded sharply, turning on his heels to head down to the street to his own bike to hurry himself over to help efforts in fighting as well as damage control. The snake followed as well, at a more leisure pace, to reach his car.
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Post by Mister Karma on Mar 17, 2017 20:30:37 GMT -5
"Corporal, we're taking heavy fire!" bellowed one of the drivers over Churchill's headset. The corporal grit his teeth as he pressed the gas pedal to the floor, the metallic pinging of bullets dancing off the steel canopies covering the rest of the trucks. The goal was to outmaneuver the threat and get the motorbikes in a position where his men could neutralize them. Given the road was quickly narrowing the further into the warehouse district the caravan traveled, there was not a lot of time. Churchill needed to think of a countermeasure, and fast. They were going to be packed tightly.
"Retaliate with suppressive fire," he ordered. "Swerve your vehicles into their motorbikes in the process. If they're after it, then its protection takes utmost priority."
"But, Corpor--"
"Did I fucking stutter? Break formation if you have to!" Corporal bellowed.
"Y-yessir..."
At once, gunfire hailed from the windows of the trucks, from the rear hatches and onto the bikers. The straight and uniform line soon broke apart in sporadic swerves into the gang members, the clear intention of knocking them off the road visible in their inertia. A few thousand yarda ahead, the road narrowed from two lanes into one, crammed between tall abandoned office buildings...
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Post by DarkSavior77 on Apr 5, 2017 12:40:16 GMT -5
The moral and confidence of the chaser group was beginning to waiver as some cars and motorbikes were reduced to dropping out of the chase as their vehicles were unable to keep up. There were injuries and a few fatalities, but the true killer of confidence was in the firepower that they were met with. But ahead seemed to be their second wind waiting. The road along the warehouses was barricaded by concrete road blocks, and even more vehicles. The first of the cars in the convoy was heading full speed. As if to ram to break through formation.
A tan man with a weird tail mixed of a lion and cougar broke rank to stand out in front. He lifted his shotgun, a mossberg roadblocker. An aptly named gun. And fired two shots to the driver of the truck, aiming through the windshield to take the driver out. Four more shots into the radiator of the oncoming vehicle to slow it further and incapacitate it. The lion hybrid pumped the last spent shell from his shotgun and began to cycle in more shells. "Take them." Tempo commanded.
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Post by Mister Karma on Apr 17, 2017 22:44:21 GMT -5
"Focus all firepower on the blockade, twelve o'clock!" Churchill commanded. "We're gonna break through that blockade!" "But Corporal--!" Churchill rolled his eyes; there was going to be hell to pay for the constant insubordination. "What could you possibly have to say that's a better idea than what I am commanding?!" he shouted. Meeks, while turning his focus over to the barricade of cars and road blocks, retaliated, "This might be a trap!"
"Like hell it is!" Churchill shot back, but before he could follow through on his plan, he felt a rain of hot metal pellets pepper his skin and his face. The first sent his body into a shock, his feet letting up on the gas, his hands that gripped the wheel now covering his face. The second shot was closer than the previous, and penetrated several spots on the Corporal's torso and face, sending him suddenly into unconsciousness. The car began to spiral out of control, and Meeks had a split second to make a choice.
Nathan wouldn't let me live it down if I didn't come back with the Corporal's body... He let up on the suppressing fire, reaching out with a free arm to grab up the Corporal's limp body, before shoulder-checking the strong truck door wide open, diving and rolling out with both his assault rifle and the burly man in tow. The roll was rather sloppy, as Meeks sustained heavy fall damage and road rash from the roll. As did the good Corporal...
If he were alive.
The large truck went swerving several directions before crashing into one of the large brick walls of the buildings, smoke rising from the hood from the shots. The rest of the convoy came to a quick halt, and the troops inside came storming out, rifles at the ready. With no one to give the order, Meeks spoke into the radio on Churchill's torso, "OPEN FIRE!"
A rainstorm of hot lead was unleashed at the being then...
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Post by DarkSavior77 on Apr 19, 2017 10:59:59 GMT -5
Tempo watched his handiwork only for a moment to make sure its destination wasn't going to be into his barricade and him. Pull the pump back, eject the spent shell, slide the pump forward, and the slide and click of a new shell being pushed up into place let him know he was ready. He had to admit he loved the Roadblocker. Had a bitch of a kick to it, but damn it did its job. The order of open fire did not deter the lion hybrid. He simply stretched out his arm, aimed at another truck driver, and fired. Switched his grip to shunt the gun and cycle another shell. Aim. Fire. Only once the second truck was confirmed to not be going anywhere did he take course of action to get behind thicker cover than a simple car. But that may have been for the best.
Something was soaring in, low, sparking, watching warily. The demon came in hot, landing into a charge as electricity arced off his body violently as its electric reach spanned outwards to the enemy vehicles to compromise their batteries like a giant EMP. The fox demon pulled himself up onto two feet, feathered wings open wide to intimidate as it opened its maw and let out a loud booming fox roar. Seven tails fanned behind him as the air's temperature began to rise. Charged aura began to contaminate the air like glowing embers. Threatening, and foreboding. 'I only got so much time like this in control.'
The fox swung its head slowly in a sweeping motion, fire exploding from his mouth. The aura in the air about the flames quickly latched onto the element and ignited as well. Tires popped as they melted and caught flame. Fire was the deterrent and a way to disable the vehicles. If the soldiers left, fine. But the trucks had to stay.
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Post by Mister Karma on Apr 30, 2017 15:18:13 GMT -5
Several hoods exploded, sending sparks flying from shorted electrical batteries. A truck driver jolted and fell limp in the driver's seat, blood splattering all over the steering wheel and windshield, and his passenger exited the vehicle in a combat roll behind a concrete staircase leading up to an office building. Drivers and passengers followed suit, spraying down suppressing fire as they found hiding spots behind walls and barricades. Good thing, too, because a large demon swooped into the fray, igniting the very air around it. It turned and let loose a jet of flame aimed at all vehicles. Tires popped and melted, heavy duty cloth canopies shriveled at the high heat, and metal began to turn liquid. Meeks, watching with the body of his dead Corporal, assessed. Fire was suddenly being focused on the large being. From behind various points of cover, grenades were cooked and tossed, some exploding on contact with the fire while others managed to bounce and roll right to the being's feet. Meeks crawled towards a large green dumpster on his back, carefully carrying the Corporal's body with him, trying to hide and figure out an escape plan.
Street gangs were decimating the Commonwealth platoon, and he was not going to leave with numerous bodies to bury.
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Post by DarkSavior77 on May 6, 2017 11:33:39 GMT -5
Rounds and blasts of concussion and frag grenades shimmered against his shield. An uncooked grenade tumbled his way, and the fox dropped the shield quickly in order to kick it back. It sailed end over end, exploding above a truck. Aruka inwardly flinched. That was too close. He couldn't afford to keep this up. Not if he didn't want to damage the cargo in these trucks. He would have to force diplomacy. "It's useless to fight. You can't even touch me. Flee with your lives now, before I consume you all to ash!" Aruka snarled from his once more erected shield. He let it fall once again, stretching his feathered wings wide as he roared, spewing fire. His tails fanned out, churning the air. "There's no hope for you if you stay fighting."
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Post by Mister Karma on May 21, 2017 22:49:43 GMT -5
No hope if they stayed fighting... Meeks panted, holding the body of his fallen superior, trying many escape plans in his head only to see them all end in failure. He suddenly heard the sounds of gunfire come to a halt, some men cursing aloud. That could only mean one thing--out of ammo. Meeks pulled his radio off his chest, speaking into it, "Take the civie's advice, turn and run. The mission is a failure, we've fallen straight into a trap and now our cargo is destroyed!" He could hear over the earpiece the many disgruntled responses his platoon was giving. Quite anticipated, but what else could he do? Churchill was dead, and if they kept up the fighting, the rest would die at the hands of who Meeks could only assume was one pissed off Kumaria.
But why? Why would the demon king Kumaria turn on them? Unless it wasn't Kumaria and someone else entirely... They shared similar traits, similar abilities. Cruxis, maybe? No... The entire platoon would have been destroyed in a heartbeat were it Cruxis.
Meeks changed the channel on his headset, ignoring the curses and profanity slung in his direction. He needed Nathan. Now.
"General Marshall, this is Lieutenant Meeks, requesting pickup," he spoke, his voice wavering, sweat beading on his forehead. A chillingly calm voice replied over his headset just then. "Already got one sent just a few kilometers east of your position," came Nathan's level reply. "Just as I anticipated...didn't I say to be wary of mock construction throughout New Haven since the demons' takeover?" Meeks was paralyzed, fear taking hold. He couldn't even retort or defend himself. Just sit there and dread the consequences.
"Anyway, we will discuss this further, Travis. The rest of your platoon will, as well. Command a surrender, retreat, let them have their prize. I've already arranged for Michael not to expect us. He's...pretty pissed."
Travis could only nod and speak one word into the radio. "Roger." He quietly put Churchill's body over his shoulders as he lifted himself off the ground, walking out into the open to meet the demon. One hand up as a makeshift surrender, he called out, "We surrender. Take it and leave. You've won!"
A pure white cryotube sat in the middle of the road, in the very last cargo truck still burning and melting at the end of the caravan, pure white save for splotches of black char. The body inside was still untouched...
"Men...we lost..."
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Post by DarkSavior77 on May 31, 2017 13:49:06 GMT -5
Aruka's roar stuttered to a stop as he slowed down his pace to watch a man come out, arms up in surrender. He shifted on his feet, planting them far apart in a ready posture to retaliate in case the gesture was a ruse. "We surrender. Take it and leave. You've won!"
"Then get the fuck out of here!" Them? Leave? Nah-ah, that was their turff. There was no way either they could just grab whatever it was they won from their grip and go anywhere with it. The fox stretched out his neck with jaws wide to let out another loud roar at the man to send them away.
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Post by Mister Karma on Jun 6, 2017 2:25:07 GMT -5
Well...what else were they to do? Meeks just stood there, gawking at the gall the Kumaria had to talk to the State's military force like that. He dropped his arms slowly, watching as the rest of his unit quickly turned on their heels and ran in several directions. Such cowardice...but sometimes, retreat was more of a tactic than it was fear. In this case, it was circumstance and lack of preparation. Yes, it was strategic. The unit already lost one important life today; what were seven or eight more going to do for the survivors' images?
"As...as you wish, civilian," Meeks stuttered with a nod of his head, turning and following suit like the rest of his unit, slinking down an alleyway wide enough for a person of his width to run through. Churchill's corpse lay limp on his shoulders as he carried the man along as Meeks' need to find a safe route grew. It was imperative that he regroup with the survivors of his squadron. He was sure Nathan wanted to hear every detail about why the operation went to hell as quick as it did...
The cryotube was ready for the taking by the Kumaria and his allies...
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Post by DarkSavior77 on Jul 13, 2017 15:25:44 GMT -5
The fox demon slowly relaxed from an angered state as the soldiers tucked tail and ran. Once the last one had left, he allowed himself to shift back to his human form. Aruka took a moment to shake his head clear as his group began to converge. His general posse leaders began to hover close to him. "Exceptional work, if not a bit messy," Venom, the platinum blonde Nippon snake commented to him as he fixed a tuft of hair over his glasses with a few flicks of his wrist. The next closest one was the mix breed with the shotgun, Tempo. He expelled the spent shells from his shotgun before thumbing the safety and resting it on his shoulder. "I hope this was worth it," he growled. "How could it not? We got some gear, military grade too, and vehicles. Just a few dings, nothing we can't fix ourselves," Noise, the black and neon green lynx commented as he stretched. It had taken him a bit longer to catch up. Tempo gave him a rather pointed look, but Aruka and Venom both seemed rather focused on the convoy the other members where going over and pulling out. Venom lifted a hand and put it on the fox's shoulder as he leaned in close to whisper to him. "Maybe it is only some weapons and gear. This may look bad on us later then if that's the case," Venom husked. "Iie. There's gotta be something," Aruka replied, almost being cut off as an Undead started calling out over to him, leaning out the back of a convoy truck and waiving him over. The two gave each other a quick glance before Aruka slipped free of Venom to rush over. The snake kept hot on his heels, their disappearance alerting Tempo and Noise to follow at a walk after them.
Wondering what the Undead had found, Aruka pulled himself into the truck and landed hard onto something with a crunch. Glass littered the ground under him, covering some sort of cold frosted tube. He brushed his hand over it, trying to see past the fog on the glass and clear it of debris. Venom peered in, trying to see past Aruka. "Ven, call up Minerva at the Crying Wolf? I think she should see this," Aruka hinted low as he knelt over the cryotube. There was someone inside.
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Post by EightTailFox on Jul 15, 2017 23:38:55 GMT -5
The Crying Wolf is at the edge of the downtown district. The huge club fills a city block, with the main building filling four-fifths of the area. The last fifth is occupied by the small fenced off staff parking lot. The outside of the Crying Wolf is made up of wide slabs walls of poured concrete varying in height from 80-feet to 100-feet. The space between the slabs if filled by LED displays behind heavy glass. Video projectors on the restaurant paint the white walls of the club many different colors. As least till the club bouncers have finished kicking out the last of the patrons so they can clean up and ready for the next night of party and dance.
Minerva is not at the club. Instead the raven sits in her office inside the newly renovated restaurant, freshly renamed 'Open Wineskin Alehouse' with a new American / Mediterranean fusion menu to replace the authentic Mediterranean that use to be the place's primary food. The place still looked like a large two story Mediterranean villa with plenty of plants, a covered patio, and private balconies. The only thing that really change was a fresh coat of interior paint, some new signs, and a new menu.
The raven shorts through some paperwork while watching the a live feed of a camera pointed in the direction of the docks. It had briefly looked like there was a small war happening over by the warehouses.
The scouts on that side of the city had reported about the events in the warehouse district between 'the gang' and a commonwealth convoy. And she already shifted a few forces over that way just in case. Honestly the action seems like something the fox's group could easily chew off so no need to pre-spot heavy forces.
Her phone rings and she checks the caller ID. Maybe she was wrong about it being something they can handle.
"Hello Ven. Do you enjoy the smell of gunpowder in the morning? I'd say napalm but the melting of things wasn't your doing." She teases. "Lucy's still at the club but I can get her on the line if you want to chat her up." The bird comments as she flips the feed to a different angle to get a better view of the aftermath.
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