Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-5999656-20190205035159/@comment-26571677-20190303041014

Hazel’s world shook as 2 kilograms of Composition C exploded close to where she stood. Her mask flickered at the shockwave as she was blown back; struggling to dampen the effect of a rapid change in pressure on her ears. She landed heavily, sliding to a stop to the left.

A small tubular item was launched in and her eyes widened; her body turning to the left as there was a flash and a deafening crack of magnesium thunder.

Any other person; be it guard or soldier would have dropped their weapons and cowered; too scared to fight back.

Hazel threw two grenades.

One landed at their feet and burst into thick, suffocating smoke. The other exploded into a wave of electricity; arcing out and stunning the SWAT team for a brief moment; coiling tesla fraying out and attaching to their metal armor.

She ran forward; sliding into the smoke as she unholstered one of her pistols.

Moving between two guards still caught in her trap, she tripped one and grabbed the other by the arm, twisting it behind his back and shoving him into his friend; sending both toppling into the grey mist.

With her distraction adequate, she was free to move forward towards her objective. Taking a right, she began to run down the hall; using her prior knowledge of the area to lead her towards the storage room for the artifact she was seeking.

The lights flickered above them; power struggling to soak into the LEDs after damage from the C4 and she saw two white circles flash onto the corner of the corridor.

A knife impacted in front of the two guards running forwards. They stopped dead still in shock. The first of the pair rounded the corner to fire at whoever had thrown the blade.

He didn’t expect a green blur sliding into the corner; aiming her pistol between his legs at his partner and squeezing the trigger; splatting something wet and warm against the back of the first guard’s head.

He yelled and tried to aim down, finger already squeezing the trigger, but fell soon after; Hazel’s left leg spinning into his calf and knocking him to the floor. She wrapped her legs around his free arm; twisting first, bending backwards next; breaking his humerus and then his elbow. He had no time to scream as a pair of hands grabbed at chin and forehead; twisting with a sick snap of bone.

Hazel stood; slipping her mag out and pushing one round into place to replace the one she had used as she continued to run forward; the guard’s flashlight turned off and held in her free hand as she made her way to the golden storage.

The time for pretty words and poetic hinting was over. It was crunch time, and she found her eyes checking the tracker once more; watching as the red dot moved over towards the control room.

He’d be done quick. She needed to be quicker.

Six pairs of boots rapidly approached from the left corner of the T section ahead; the exact way she needed to go. Shifting the flashlight to the hold between her last three fingers, she slipped out a small, glowing cylinder. Waiting until they came close before she tossed it forward; creating a line of intense heat and flame. With the startled gasps and yells of people both on fire and stumbling back, she ran forwards, jumped towards the left wall and pushed forward; twisting in mid air as she rocketed on her back down towards the right corridor.

She threw the flashlight at the man in the back; hitting him square in the head as his gun fired; impacting the two men in front of him and killing them instantly. She fired three shots at the remainder of the squad and the corridor fell silent; the fire fading away and leaving only the blackened metal on roof and floor; blood quickly evaporating into a metallic stench.

Her free hand grabbed one of the dead mens’ scrolls and slapped it against the scanner; waiting for a few precious seconds before the door slid open, and she walked forward into the auction storage room; searching for one specific word.

‘Atlas’.

---

Above the underground, the man in white suit stumbled as the corridor shuddered; feeling the force of the explosion behind him. It was time for the attack.

Crunch time.

Dust sprinted forward, jumping up a flight of stairs two steps at a time. One unlucky person ran down towards the stairs at the same time he was coming off and was quickly missing an arm as Dust’s blade cut through flesh, bone and cartilage.

He winced as blood spattered onto his white suit an the now useless hunk of flesh dropped to the ground with a man screaming sans a limb.

Gruesome work.

But they deserved it.

He’d seen what they were selling; slaves, guns, blades, body parts and bio weapons designed to kill a man slowly and painfully; boiling their innards or burning away their flesh.

They were the lowest of the low.

He would have to steel his heart.

Dust raised the sword now in rifle form and squeezed off two shots left and right as he rounded the corner with no warning. Two guards fell as massive chunks of ice formed between their chest cavities; pushing away ribs and innards.

One more, he grimaced.

As he walked past, he paused to doff his hat before kicking down the door to the control room; shooting a lightning round inbetween the four workers sitting there.

They fell, bodies twitching as electricity worked their way through their muscles, cramping and disabling them for a long while, but not outright killing.

He walked forward and shoved one aside and out of his seat; looking down at the extensive array of buttons and switches; trying to make sense of them all at the same time as trying to remember what Jett wanted him to do.

“Why do they never bloody label these things!?”

She wanted Lights, Cameras, Security Drones.

“Ahhhhhh…eeny meeny miney…you!”

He pressed some buttons.

Which ones?

All of them.