Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-11588669-20131011025520/@comment-11588669-20131015115609

His rifle was pressed to his shoulder, finger barely caressing the trigger. Each step he took was quiet, deliberate. There was no tremble, no hesitation in his movements. And when Tianee spoke, he answered softly.

"It's the place. They're here, and they know we are as well. Now, it's a game to see how far we can get-" He was cut off by a man charging through a doorway. A glint of metal showed he had a knife.

A rifle was too loud. So he'd have to go with the old fashioned way.

Nox swung the rifle around, smashing the corner of the stock into the man's face. The attacker turned with the momentum, and the teen placed his weapon under the man's chin, and held it there.

It was pressed into his trachea, cutting off the airflow. Meaning, he couldn't make a sound. As his eyes began to close, Nox slammed his armored elbow into the man's head, making sure he stayed down. The brain trauma may or may not end up making him comatose.

"Yeah," He whispered, dropping the unconcious fool to the floor. "I think we're in the right place." He began to move foreward again, stepping over the man.

"God I hate these type of jobs..."