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>>2146516
Turning in the ruined street, debris raining down from the CF-0 you just destroyed, you comm her again. “Copy. Where?”

She answers with a blue bolt into the sky from a few blocks away, exploding into a miniature neon sun--a flare of some kind. You throw on the dash and bolt in that direction, taking a few potshots at the back of a retreating CF-0’s giant head as you move.

You sling on a coil around another building to see plasma ripping up the road below--Delphi’s chaser swings left and right, barely a step ahead of a pair of mavericks--Road Attackers. You’ve come just in time for the end of the chase--veering to avoid a huge chunk of rubble from a damaged skyscraper, one of the aggressors speeds ahead, the pair falling into a loose circle around her as they cut off their prey on the destroyed road.

They don’t fare so well when you come down on them with a warhead.

The road’s already smashed to pieces, so if anything your meteoric impact clears it a little--plunging your fist down through the engine block of the maverick’s car, the entire thing goes up in a colossal fireball, driver and all. You contort in midair and line up your busters, peppering it with shots as its attack suddenly reverses momentum. You blast the shroud off the engine and a final bolt from Delphi helps put it down.

“Thanks,” she says, taking a moment to inspect the side of her Cheval--smoking from a few fresh shots, but still working. “Getting reports that they’re going right for Beşiktaş, even though they’re taking losses.”

“Meaning they’ll ignore problems to get there?”

The blue dome around her head coalesces and forms a three-dimensional map--a bright blue line cuts through a model cityscape. “This route’s the fastest,” she says. “I’m routing responders to clear it now. You’ll get to the business center before they do. Hit them from the side.”

You don’t wait, dashing to a building and leaping, jumping wall to wall, window to window as you pour on the Raikousen.

“What’s your plan?” You ask as you go.

“Find any unsecure hub and set up shop,” she replies. “I’ll keep coordinating movements in this sector and then find somewhere else to move to.”

You can hear the distant thuds of the marching CFs through the city, a steady, building drumbeat accompanied by shouting and plasma fire. The path Delphi cut for you zigzags through blind alleys and turns you might have dashed right by. Occasionally you hear pockets of fighting from the surrounding streets, and you don’t think all of it’s maverick-only.

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>>2146518
Those drum footsteps grow louder again as you close in--beeline or no, they’ve taken their time to take chunks out of a few buildings. You navigate another cramped turn to find a long stretch of highway, absent the towers… and the march of the maverick front line just arriving with you.

>Decapitation strike. Leadership first.
>Confusion and dismay. Sow discord in the ranks.
>Other?

>Tension Coil: 21/32
>Tumult Shell: 16/16
>Lockon Hunter: 10/16
>Shell Driver: 6/8
>Charge: 27%

Welcome back, everyone. It’s been a rough few months. Let’s get right to it--since there was a lot flying around last thread, if anyone needs a reminder on force disposition or what’s going on in the city, let me know. I make a habit of having the previous thread (or threads) open for missions, it might be of help to you here to do the same.

So how’s everyone doing? Because I'm woefully unprepared!

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>>2146519
>So how’s everyone doing?
About to head to work you bastard. Took you thing long and then you go and time it so I miss the start.

>>2146519
This seems like a prime opportunity to really put our Tumult Shells to use. Fire off a bunch at the front line as both cover and covering fire. Sow chaos; it's a march, so the longer it takes to get to where it's going, the better off we are, yeah?

Well shit I am glad this is running, thanks OP

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>>2146521
I'm heading to work too, actually--I figured I'd kick it off now to give people time to see the thread.

>>2146519
>Decapitation strike. Leadership first

I have an inexplicable feeling that they might ignore problems to get where they're going, so harrying might not work so well. If they have a plan to enact that will be worth their losses, it's best to go for whomever is coordinating that, carrying a payload, etc.

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>>2146519
>Decapitation strike. Leadership first.
Take the pebble out of the stream and bean whoever is leading that stream with it.

> Discord and confusion

These are Mavericks. Killing the leaders can only do so much

>>2146519
>Decapitate the leadership

It returns! Standard reminder to upvote this thread (and previous ones) at http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Maverick%20Hunter%20Quest or Cain Labs will emerge from his slumber to wreak terror across the Earth!

>>2146519
>Decapitation strike. Leadership first.
Less chaos, more dead mavericks

>>2146519
>Decapitation strike. Leadership first.

>>2146519
>Decapitation strike. Leadership first.

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>>2146519
>Confusion and dismay. Sow discord in the ranks.
Draw fire from the whole group using a Tumult Shell, then jump in after it explodes in their faces

>>2146519
>Decapitation strike. Leadership first.
>With Tumult Shells on standby.

The new setting on the shells lets them absorb impact and explode. That'll come in handy when the force pinches on us to punish taking out leadership.

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Hello MHQ players!

Some time ago I started participating in a tabletop MHQ game based on the rules doc written by one "guy_with_the_parrot." It was a homebrew of a Metroid Marines tabletop game, and was fun, but pretty shortly I noticed that the rules were a little insufficient to cover everything that MHQ could be. I therefore took it upon myself to edit, amend, and clarify the entire thing.

I wrote every change and new section with the goal of clarity and improvement, but it wasn’t 100% my own work. I sought and took the advice of other players in the campaign -- up to and including Hunter Command. (They play an angry Welsh butterfly fairy.) This doc retains as much of the previous structure as possible while covering most every important rule that needed to be there but wasn’t. There's even a table of contents!

So here it is. Enjoy 21,000 words worth of rules by which you and your friends may become a super fighting reploid.

ADDITIONS EVENTUALLY: Detailed rules specifically for human Maverick Hunters; detailed rules specifically for deployable vehicles, mechaniloids, and reploid subordinate units.

https://drive.google.com/open?id=0Bym_M6G0i95Eem5wdV8ybkp0Qkk

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>>2146519
>Keep going through CF-0s.
The less infrastructure gets destroyed, the less dangerous those tiny mechaniloids are, and sowing discord won't slow them down if they don't care.

Tumult Shell sounds good for lobbing into the mechaniloid bays of CF-1s and general mobs of smallfry, but I have doubts on how much that would actually reduce their total destructive power.

Was waiting for a thread to post these, by the way.

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>>2146631
and a more updated one, with some more headcanon
>1/3 the volume, twice the pressure, almost the same amount of LN and damage but using a lot less space
>the refill thingimajigs were put in the handle and used as more holding space for some real misericording.

>>2146519
Wow, the artwork in this thread is top notch.

>>2146519
>Decapitation strike. Leadership first.

>So how’s everyone doing? Because I'm woefully unprepared
Of course you would run the day I get the keys to my new house!
I'll pop in when I can, but glad to see you're still around and kicking Hunter Command

>>2146519
>>Decapitation strike. Leadership first.

>>2146628
Neato.

>>2146519
>Decapitation strike. Leadership first.

So... Anyone here getting Megaman 10?

>>2146807
>10
You mean 11

>Decapitation strike. Leadership first.

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>>2146519
>>Decapitation strike. Leadership first.

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>>2146807
>>2146812
Absolutely.

I look forward to seeing how it delays connecting to the X series.

>>2146519
>Decapitation strike. Leadership first.

>>2146519
>Decapitation strike. Leadership first.
Use tumult shells as per others' suggestions.

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That was a fun twelve-and-a-half-hour day! But I am back.

Let's see if we can get a post out tonight, huh?

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>>2148279
"I LIVED, BITCH"

>>2148279
Congrats on surviving.

>>2148340
He's legendary.

>>2147029
that could be renamed to FUSCHIA, BITCH

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>>2148340
That screencap made me so happy because Top Man is my icon at work and that sums up my style perfectly.

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>>2146529
Thank you!

>>2146628
Remind me at some point to write up the exploits of CARE team; my big sturdy guy got Worfed almost immediately and replaced with a zippy, manic support unit. It's been a thing.

>>2146631
>>2146632
These are dope! Thank you!

>>2146688
Whoa, congrats, man! Happy to hear it. Also a little sobering to consider how long I've been writing this story and how much lives have changed over that length.

...And how little I've gotten accomplished in my story fuuuuuuuuuuck.

>>2146807
Absolutely. CL and I routinely go back and forth only half-jokingly that we should get the rights to X and give it the MHQ treatment. ...well, you know, to an extent.

>>2148519
>.well, you know, to an extent.
>X gives in to despair by 5th game and the series ends there
TOO FAR, CL, HE COULDNT HANDLE IT

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>>2148519
>CL and I routinely go back and forth only half-jokingly that we should get the rights to X and give it the MHQ treatment
Maybe someone picks up the Megaman comic license like with IDW and Sonic, then you could see if they need a writer
I mention this because I remembered the time someone noticed that the Archie comic mentioned the different Hunter divisions and thought it was a MHQ reference.

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>>2148519
The Community Action and Relation Enhancement team has been certainly exploiting.

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>>2148595
Funny story, actually--I'm friends with a very good friend of Ian Flynn. A few years ago, a mutual of ours suggested I put out feelers towards getting a writing gig on Archie MM, but I think it came across a bit manipulative or something, that friend wasn't really thrilled. We're both writers that are massively into Megaman, so it could be it was an 'if there WAS an opening, I'd want it first' kind of deal.

Anyway, no harm or hard feelings, just an interesting tidbit.

Also, writing is in progress but holy damn my hands are cold, I think I need some tea.

>>2148519
Now that I think about it, I guess I could give the Ascent Lance a shot. Can anyone give me that sprite gif of anode and Em standing around while the lance is billowing in all its fuchsia glory?

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>>2148705

>>2148715
thank ye kindly

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>>2148721
No prob

I suppose I should pop in to lay down some greetings to you all. Greetings to you all!

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>>2148790
I bid you dark greetings.

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>>2148790

Hard to believe I will have been following MHQ for 6 years in a month and a half.

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>>2148894

Back from work, Can finally say I'm glad to see you running again.

>>2148948
Hey at least MHQ is about a month younger than For House and Dominion. That turns 6 in a week.

>>2148948
I remember when we had more friends. I remember before Saetos happened.

>>2149013
Thanks. I really, really, (fucking REALLY) wanted to run pretty much every weekend since last time, and it just wasn't there.

>>2146519
>Decapitation strike. Leadership first.
We are not the only hunter here, but the issue is that we are one of the higher up ones. The army and troops can handle mechanoids, but artillery, stronger officers, and possible mechariders would be a threat to the likes of Berets or human soldiers.

Wish we knew what types of mechanoids they had. We could prioritize ones that would harm civvies and infrastructure more.

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>>2146550
>>2146555
>>2146590
>>2146598
>>2146606
>>2146612
>>2146618
>>2146729
>>2146807
>>2146851
>>2147029
>>2147573
>>2147997
You decide against a conventional flank--you might do more damage to their forces, but they’re going to carry off whatever objective they have in mind.

Instead, you rappel ahead on two more lines, a third latching onto the side of the lead’s bay--you whip around as it pulls its arm back, spooling out extra line to hook around the elbow, rather than snap across it. You swing yourself in at a sharp angle, and you’re just hearing the start of them firing out at you when you pour on the boosters and rocket into the hangar bay stomach from the front on a blazing jet of blue-white flame.

You feel a crunch of impact followed by a much louder, angrier crunch of impact, slamming a maverick body into the rear wall. You spring back as a crisscross of fire--and a wave of ice--slash across where you were standing. You fire a pair of Tumult Shells as you land, predicting the lanes of fire as you crouch to avoid plasma raking the air between them. The shells sail on, growing brighter and brighter until, with a pressure-ripple through the air and a sound like a bomb blast in a window pane, the shells explode under the incoming fire. The two thumps rock the compartment, giving you a moment to break to the side in a lunge, avoiding another withering salvo as you leave them another pair of shells to chew on, rather pleased with the sprawling bodies hauling themselves upright.

You glance around the compartment now that you have a moment more than flashes of motion and reflex--an imposing figure is snapping a solid-alloy--and blazing--sword to his side, while the figure you tackled into the back wall is actually almost as large as Collide, massively armored and looking more annoyed than damaged--a sizable scorch across her chestplate aside--as she hunches forward into a brutish ready stance. Among the mechaniloids and production infantry, one odd man out, though just as small and unassuming-looking, pulling himself to his feet. And, in the middle--

“Hi there,” Seven calls cheerfully, unloading a massive, flickering black torrent of plasma from his buster. You snapfire another pair of shells as you dash forward--

Only to wind up right back where you were. Only the shells, taking the hit dead-center, save you, shattering instantly as a nimbus of spiral-explosions cascade around it on all sides--all but the exact center. It doesn’t exactly feel great--you cast about quickly for the cause of your abrupt relocation, the air rushing back into the vacuum that Seven’s calamitous shot left in its wake.

“Anode, Eviction. Eviction, Anode,” Seven says, face disgustingly smug as he gestures to the diminutive maverick with his massive buster--the end of which is taking on a red-hot glow once again.

>>2149033
I remember when I collected a bunch of new robot skulls for my castle. I remember when you just started accepting that birds = death.

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>>2149082
You snort--then explode into action as another withering barrage scythes through the air. You break left--then leap right as, sure enough, you wind up exactly where you were. You lash out with another coil, thrashing them at Eviction’s feet. He stumbles, just in time for you to bolt another coil to his chest, yank him forwards, and then, taking a two-handed grip on the line, engage Shriver and twist.

You clear the decks with Eviction before cutting the line, sending him sailing out of the command compartment and out into the city behind you.

“Well, with a name like that…” You reply to Seven, shooting him an infuriating grin right back.

Your Lockon Hunter flies, but like your spars, Seven is moving before it’s even flashed from the barrel. You fire another pair of shells to ward off his counterattack, but a scything line of blue from the hulking one at the back smashes through them, shattering shield, ice, and all, a howling gale of blacklight spiraling through the glittering mass. It--

Reality blips, and you feel motion, chest sizzling and shields flashing as you suddenly find yourself soaring backwards, the city skyline looming overhead again.

Seven’s voice crackles in your ear--on the old 4th Overland secure frequency. “Oh, that felt every bit as good as I hoped it would. Have fun, Anode!”

A moment later, that sword-wielding maverick impacts before you, landing on one knee, head bowed, before drawing himself up with a single step forward, unlimbering that flaming blade.

“Behold, and quake with fear, for you face the Sword of Samarkand, Dammahnation Blade! It was I who destroyed the Himalayan Stratodome - I who laid low the vaunted Warden Dromedar! The celebrated Hunter, Jet Jackalope, fell before me, and the streets of Montreal burned. Who scarred Mu Qinglong? Who learned the arts of destruction from Komodo Green himself? Who shall carve out the heart of Turkey and cast it into the Black Sea? It is I! Come, Hunter! Dammahnation awaits you!”

>Are you for fucking real.
>”Hi, I’m Emerald.”

>>2149087
>”Hi, I’m Kenobi.”

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>>2149087

>>”Hi, I’m Emerald.”
I almost want this to not be a typo.

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>>2149115
It's not.

>>2149087
>”Hi, I’m Emerald.”

>>2149087
>>”Hi, I’m Emerald.”
Fuck it, sass mode engage.

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>>2149087
>"Hi, I'm Emerald."

Also, the pun is too obtuse. What is this guy, exactly? Humanoid?

>>2149087
>”Hi, I’m Emerald.”

>>2149148
>The scimitar oryx or scimitar-horned oryx (Oryx dammah), also known as the Sahara oryx, is a species of Oryx once widespread across North Africa which went extinct in the wild in 2000.
First result for "Dammah", but maybe he just has some kind of speech impediment that makes him pronounce "Damnation" strangely.

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>>2149148
He's an oryx.

Also, a conversation in IRC suggests to me that I need to clarify the second vote option--that's not Anode talking.

>>2149179
Well, in that case...
>”Hi, I’m Emerald.”

>>2149174
That's him.

>>2149087
>>”Hi, I’m Emerald.”
I wonder if Em managed to keep those repulser gauntlets from being phased out.

>>2149087
"No hablo ingles."

>>2149179
>that's not Anode talking.

Perfectly fine with me.

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>Mav with a bigass solid alloy blade.
>Em is present.

THESE EVENTS HAVE BEEN FORETOLD

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>>2149230
You ever see a post and you know it's about to change what you're about to write?

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Oh boy here we go

>>2149230
Em: My sword sense is tingling! There is a great disturbance in the Bladeforce! There can only be ONE true swordmaster!

Cathode: You been watching movies with my big bro a bit too much.

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Oh, this will be fun.

>>2149261
Do you know who I am? I am the Juggernaut Bitch!

Juggernaut Bitch

Rank S+

Used to be know as Cerberus but hated the name and refused to be upgraded with two extra heads.

A giant Reploid with a canine face, she is not the fastest Maverick around, but she is very very strong.

She can also cause localised Earthquakes.

Was ranked S class as a Hunter. She received a S+ rank after she murdered a S class Hunter, a whole city and a squadron of A rank hunters all by herself. Although she ended so injured we thought she had died, we were wrong.


That S+ rank is threat rating only, a fancy way of saying you won't get more pay that by killing the last S class you hunted.

"But why me?"

"Because you keep facing things way over yoir weight class and you survive somehow.

>>2149087
>>Are you for fucking real.
"For a swordsman you sure act more like a ham."

>>2149303
>Juggernaut Bitch gets solo'd by a single bird.

>>2149313
Seriously, we know a guy who had the insane balls to do that blade thingy with Shiva, we're not impressed.

>>2149333
WAIT WAIT WAIT IS IT TOO LATE TO LIST OUR ACCOMPLISHMENTS

>>2149257
>>2149303
Make like a tree and fuck off, Bokan.

Yes, I know it's you, that posting style is unmistakable.

>>2149342
Doooo eeeet.
>I binged-watched all the star wars movies!
>I made seven a paint bitch!
>I high-fived a bear!
>I punched god in the face.
>I also possess your weakness. PFAH!

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>>2149087
This:
>>2149351
"Did Seven ever tell you he looks great in sepia?"

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>>2149087
>”...I've got no response to that.”
Seriously, I really don't

>>2149085
So you just need one more giant one and then your Wily Fortress will be ready?

>>2149351
I thought we punched the bear in the face and high-fived God

> Hi, I'm Emerald

>>2149393
>, welcome to Jackass

Seven seems to be in charge. We know he is driven by only one goal now: his pure, unbridled, burning hatred of Anode.

He also still has the 4th's old Comm channels installed, before we changed them.

I bet he's still listening in, too.

>Offer to lube him up, because he's seriously *fucked* now.

Let's make him derail this whole invasion just to try to kill us.

>>2149447
This is briliant
And im in full support of it

>>2146628
Ya doin me proud. Clearly I'll have to toss you what I have for Human Aces and Vehicular Combat to you when I get the chance.

>>2149087
>”Hi, I’m Emerald.”

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>>2149582
... Would you believe I started a doc for rules for human Hunters this very day?

>>2149656
Yup. But thats why I mentioned it. The vehicles one is admittedly more interesting, though.

>>2149680
I need road attacker stats. The best vehicles.

>>2149680
I'll take both! The main doc left a lot of "(varies)" when it came to vehicles, and I'd love to see what you have.

To tinker with, gently.

>>2149683
I actually only have stats of them as an enemy since I used them so long ago and all I have are a bunch of really fucking obtuse notes on it rather than something that someone can read and understand at the moment. Basically though, all vehicles types get a set of chess like movement options. More options outside their normal maneuvers are added based on vehicle type depending on how many missions a proficient driver has used the vehicle type for (with initial points on character creation being from Operate Vehicle). There's a variable speed value (0(not moving)-5 with different top and bottom ends for different vehicle/vehicle types), acceleration and breaking, which determine how quickly they speed up and slow down on the speed scale (both ranging from 0-3 normally, 0 being things like gliders and unpowered transportation). When they're at a particular speed they are restricted to certain sized versions of the particular maneuvers.

>>2149087
>”Hi, I’m Emerald.”

Oh god my knees are dead now
Hunter Command set me up with some sweet reploid knees!

I wish that we had the Sheriff Seven recording on us right now, and I wish we had some way to broadcast it to every Maverick present.

>>2149087
>Sorry, didn't catch all that. Could you repeat it?

>>2149890
Maybe emergency-call HQ, tell them we need a very specific bit of video to afflict enemy morale?

>>2150110
I feel like they wouldn't appreciate the subtleties of our machinations. Maybe if they had a psyops department.

...Do the Hunters even do psyops?

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>>2150110
Why call HQ when we could call India, there is approximately zero chance she doesn't still have the file handy and she's got no stick up her ass and plenty of reason to dunk on Seven.

>>2150115
I want to say "probably not." Who would they use it against? By which I mean, where would they find a significant Maverick population and -not- rely immediately on physical force to neutralize it?

Also, the UN would have to be pretty leery of allowing a majority-reploid organization to practice weaponizing psychology. Smells Mavericky.

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Morning, folks.

So I've got yet another busy day, but I ought to be able to get in a post or two. I might try to get ambitious and bake the giant mountain of cookies I owe as Christmas care packages and presents for people at work, but I also might totally not do that.

>>2150155
Just give them raw cookie dough, everyone loves that.

>”Hi, I’m Emerald.”

Edge versus edge.

>>2149087
>”Hi, I’m Emerald.”
"Welcome to Turkey! I like swords!"

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>>2150356
Cain Labs is our Black Mage in that scenario.

Also, back from the gym, and I'll get started writing just as soon as my fucking lungs catch up.

And if this happens to post a plurality of times, I'm getting connection errors. Sorry about that.

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>>2150427
Looks like it posted fine.

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"Hey dahhama lama yo momma so fat she can use this as a toothpick"

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>>2149115
>>2149136
>>2149139
>>2149148
>>2149157
>>2149190
>>2149201
>>2149393
>>2149638
>>2149749
>>2150186
>>2150356
“Hi,” you say, before Anode can work his jaw to ask what the fiddly fuck, “I’m Em.”

Dammahnation turns and sweeps his blade around, leveling it on you. “Another challenger! Step forward, then, if you are prepared to face wrath and ruin alike!”

You look past him, to Anode. “I’ve got this,” you comm.

“Roger that. I’ll go after the little guy I chucked.” He turns and dashes deeper into the city, after the frontline of CF-0s, while the maverick just keeps. Fucking. Talking.

He flourishes his blade once, twice, each sweep casting his features--curled horns, reverse-joint legs, and a hulking, looming posture, a good three or four feet on you, all contribute to an almost satanic cast to him.

You spring forward somewhere between the third and fourth twirl of his stupid fuckoff fire sword.

“Desola--!”

Dammit Nathan Braid quickly corrects into an upward stroke with his sword, but you’re already inside his guard, flambard unslung and arcing down from above, lashing across his wrist as you swing two-handed to his one. You bat the weapon down, back-hand already leaving the grip as his fingers spasm and shields flash, the algorithms not at all primed for a cut across the hands. You cut the blade as he levers his size to try to backhand you, stepping past (and under) with your momentum. You turn it into a pivot at the hip and jump backwards into him, tapered edge of your elbow kris striking dead-on the chestplate. You feel his cloven boots leave the ground as it springs from its trick-release, flambard juggled out to cross-draw and cut. He reels, trying to tighten his grip on his flaming blade, but it slips another inch from his fingertips as it goes one way and he goes the other.

A momentary flash and a chime from your subprocessor remind you to bob low as a sizzling beam of energy scythes from his open hand where your head was. Back in front of him now, he missteps, trying to go for his sword and overextending even further. You reverse the kris into a wide overhead arc, carving a line across his shields again and back down into his sword hand, pinning it down. Your free hand wraps around the hilt of the solid alloy weapon as his eyes widen, a chain of explosions ripping down the street from its length as he panic-fires a weapon you’re not on the business end of.

And then, you reverse again, and with an intensely satisfying whack, you mollywop Domination Bland a good sixty feet away with his own fucking sword.

He hauls himself up to his full, commanding height--realizes you’re still holding his fuckoff flame sword--

And immediately beams out.

Asshat.

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>>2150566
“Gopher, Em.”

The CO, such as he is, picks up fast, at least. “Go ahead.”

“Routed a big goat looking mav. If he shows up, let me know and we’ll have another chat.”

Despite your disdain for him, you hear a chuckle. “Copy.”

...Right. Back to work.

Fun as it might be to take home and tinker with, you throw the sword into a broken fountain--it’ll just slow you down on your way to the water. Besides, you’ve got plenty of sabers already.

You can’t dispel your unease as you sprint through the side streets, listening to the shouts and weapon reports--those are not Reploid voices.

At a barricade of overturned cars, you don’t miss a crumpled body fall, headless--and a man raise a buster pistol overhead, to a chorus of cheers.

You tamp it down and keep moving. You can’t. Not them.

Reaching the water, at last, lets you forget it for a moment. Amphitrite, S-class, is out there, down there. Somewhere. And so’s the Sixth.

You speed forward, leaping from a burning dock and hitting the water in time with your boots, the thrust kicking up a spray of water that glints in the flame behind you. A moment of airtime, and you come down again, blasting off the surface of the water with each slaloming dash. Out, and out, and out…

And then, she strikes, the water roiling below you as a massive whirlpool engulfs the inky black surface, chopping the seas and breaking the tension--and your timing. You slip into the dark, the seafloor rising to meet you as your optics adjust to the growing dark, and you hear her laughter.

Your lone dueling blade springs to light at your side, as you sink.

-----

>”This is Anode, one down, back on primary task.”
>”This is Umbras. I have Rezador in sight.”
>”This is…” [specify hunter]

>>2150571
>Cathode
Or
>Largescale Mustang

>>2150571
>>”This is Anode, one down, back on primary task.”
Nice moves.

>>2150571
>"This is Umbras. I have Rezador in sight.”

Scene change!

>>2150571
>>”This is…” [Seven].
"I've got you in my sights."

>>2150571
>>”This is Umbras. I have Rezador in sight.”
I feel sorry for Umbras.

>>2150571
>”This is Umbras. I have Rezador in sight.”

Les do dis.

>>2150571
>”This is Umbras. I have Rezador in sight.”

>>2150571
>”This is Anode, one down, back on primary task.”
Want to see what happened to Eviction more than anything.

>>2150621
Umbras was one of the teammate choices we didn't pick for this mission, so Rezador won't be directly trying to kill him, at least

>>2150571
>”This is Umbras. I have Rezador in sight.”

>Pândi Umbrâs, Lynx Reploid, Major in the Romanian Land Forces. Fires shadowy bolts that interrupt beam weapons and don’t register on sensors.
Sounds like fun to me! Let's keep jumping until we hit something neat.

>>2150571
>"This is Flares Firefly. The skies are mine."

>”This is Umbras. I have Rezador in sight.”

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>>2150786
>Want to see what happened to Eviction more than anything.

Eh, we'll catch up.

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>>2150571
Bueno.

>>”This is Umbras. I have Rezador in sight.”

>>2150571
>”This is Anode, one down, back on primary task.”

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Back home from a certain movie. Also, entertaining Team Jerkass--in a rare reversal of events, they are at my place instead of the other way around.

Still gonna try to get another post out late tonight.

>>2150571
>”This is…”
Cathode

>>2152046
>>2150978
>>2150617
>>2150588

>No, this is PATRICK

>>2150571
>”This is Anode, one down, back on primary task

>>2150571
>”This is…”
Cathode

>>2152466
>>2150571
Actually im gonna change my vote to cathode

>>2150571
>>”This is Umbras. I have Rezador in sight.”

>”This is Anode, one down, back on primary task.

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>>2150609
>>2150621
>>2150630
>>2150642
>>2150958
>>2151046
>>2151303
>>2152900
“This is Umbrâs,” you comm, looking out over the water as the latest whirlpool settles out, “I have Rezador in sight.”

“We hear you,” Cojocaru responds. “And how is our friend behaving?”

Before you’d deployed from the campus, the leading hunter--Gopher, his name was--sent out a private message to all those assembled. ‘Watch out for Rezador.’ You immediately declared that a Someone Else sort of problem, and kicked that word of warning back to your handlers. Naturally, they decided that it was now, officially, Your Problem.

You chance a lean out of your alley--aside from the glimmer of fires, this block is nearly pitch black, but you’re not the only one who can see in the dark. “Surprisingly well,” you remark. “But he’s having some trouble.”

“Situation?”

Rezador was, of course, a known agitant. Volatile, cold, calculating, brutal, relentless. Everyone knew about Los Mortales, but when they went silent, the rumor that they had rejoined the organization they so famously rejected had been hard to believe. And yet, here they were. Here he was. But something was off--it didn’t take much more than Gopher’s cryptic warning to get your wheels turning about the exact nature of their return to the ranks--or lack thereof.

You chance a closer look, as attentions seem well and truly diverted, now. Blades gnaw armor, the flash and clash cutting through the night as Rezador cuts, and cuts, and cuts. Supposedly, one of the greatest melee combatants in the world. Possibly the best.

But from the bray of Tanker Tigershark’s laughter, you would think anything but.

His whoops bound across the water as he drives the mantis back, oil running in rivulets down his mangled body, compressed air hissing from cracked ballasts. With a toothy grin, he steps forward, heavy footfalls crunching atop the chips of plating littering the top of his submarine, that hellish drill-hand slowing to a halt… and letting one of Rezador’s wicked sickle-like blades clatter to the floor, shorn from its owner’s body.

“See, your problem is--” Tanker booms, “you’re not sparring with someone made of glass any more.”

Rezador is eyeing his foe warily--wounded, but nowhere near as fearsomely durable as the maverick. Still, he refuses to back down, ready to spring.

You upload your feed. “He’s in trouble. This could be a good chance--should I engage?”

“Which one?” Cojocaru replies dryly. “Hold for now, but be ready.”

You have a guess as to what they’re playing at, but you keep it to yourself. “Copy.”

A moment later, though, the possibility of intercession falls off the table. A second vessel surfaces--and a figure, already on the prow, takes a few heavy steps forward.

“New contact,” you whisper, scoping in on it. “Recognize that silhouette?”

“Running it now… Stand by and keep recording.”

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>>2153322
Tanker cranes his head over one shoulder to look back at the newcomer, and Rezador pounces--only to meet a crunching backhand that clears him off Tanker’s sub and deposits him in a heap at the end of the docks.

“You were ordered to fall back,” the newcomer calls.

Tanker scoffs, a bloodsoaked monument. “I don’t do retreats.”

“You do when this navy directs you,” he warns.

Your handler pings your ear. “Yeah, we’ve got him.”

“Affiliated hostile?” you ask.

“Guess.”

“Joy. Am I done here?”

“Not yet.”

You look up at the little drama unfolding--and are greeted by the sight of Broadside Yamatoad unshadowing his guns, massive cannons brought to bear… on Tanker. On the docks, Rezador hauls himself up, a battered wreck, sizing up the situation. You don’t miss that Tanker is doing precisely the same.

“We’re leaving. You are either leaving with us, or I will kill you here myself,” Yamatoad informs his… ally? Curtly.

Tanker turns and squares up, hunched low, making a low, rumbling noise… sizing his opposite up against his own heavy damage. and his face once more splits into a razor-maw grin. “You’ve got more guts than I thought.”

Yamatoad doesn’t respond, letting his sighted cannons do the talking over either shoulder. Silence deafens.

Tanker breaks into another laugh, the tension dispelled for absolutely nobody but him, voice surprisingly jovial. “I’ll kill you for this, you know.”

“You are welcome to try.”

Chuckling, Tanker turns to regard Rezador one last time. “You get off the hook this time,” he calls--and you don’t miss Rezador’s already-stormy features darken a few hues.

Their little drama concluded, the maverick vessels move out--and bloody, battered Rezador watches them leave, a seething, silent roil to match the deepening dark of the sea.

You tap your comms. “Get all of that?”

“We got it. Prime television viewing,” Cojocaru says.

“We sharing this with our friends in Geneva?” you ask.

“Not our call. Keep on Rey, make sure he doesn’t cause any trouble. If he does…”

You chuckle to yourself--you’ve about tripled your kill count just taking advantage of the chaos in his wake. Not bad, considering he might wind up your biggest catch of the night. “Understood. Umbrâs out.”

You give him a small lead before you follow him back inland, back towards the urban centers, when:
>A jet screams overhead, low and fast. “India to all friendlies…”
>Every comm signal at once screams and squawks about new contacts. Where’s Overland’s CO?

>>2153332
Where IS Overland's CO?

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>>2153332
>A jet screams overhead, low and fast. “India to all friendlies…”
Let's see what she's made of her toy.

(Also, definite oh-shit moment with Tanker.)

>>2153332
>A jet screams overhead, low and fast. “India to all friendlies…”
Begin the danger zoning

>>2153332
>Every comm signal at once screams and squawks about new contacts. Where’s Overland’s CO?
Should be interesting... we don't get a lot of focus on Gopher, beyond him being a hardass all the time.

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>>2153332
>>2153351
When we take the Yamatoad op, we should complain to him, at length, about he didn't just go ahead and kill Tigershark right then and there.

No vote because I'm equally curious about what India and Gopher are doing

>>2153332
>A jet screams overhead, low and fast. “India to all friendlies…”

>>2153332
>Every comm signal at once screams and squawks about new contacts. Where’s Overland’s CO?
So, do both of these happen no matter what we choose and we just pick which perspective?

>>2153332
>A jet screams overhead, low and fast. “India to all friendlies…”

I'm curious about what Gopher's POV would be like, but I really, Really want to know what India is up to.

>>2153332
>A jet screams overhead, low and fast. “India to all friendlies…”
vehicle time, I guess.

>>2153332
As much as I would love to play top gun, I want to know what Gopher is up to.

>>2153332
>Every comm signal at once screams and squawks about new contacts. Where’s Overland’s CO?

Give us a better idea of the overall picture.

>>2153332
>>A jet screams overhead, low and fast. “India to all friendlies…”
Is that her new bird?

>>2153332
>A jet screams overhead, low and fast. “India to all friendlies…”

>>2153332
>Every comm signal at once screams and squawks about new contacts. Where’s Overland’s CO?
I like this surly dickhead.

>>2153332
>Every comm signal at once screams and squawks about new contacts. Where’s Overland’s CO?

>>2153332
>Every comm signal at once screams and squawks about new contacts. Where’s Overland’s CO?

I feel like we're just going to get radical exploits with India. We've had a little of that recently with Anode and Emerald.

>>2153332
>Every comm signal at once screams and squawks about new contacts. Where’s Overland’s CO?

I'm really curious to see how Gopher fights

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>>2154160
Same here

>>2153332
>Every comm signal at once screams and squawks about new contacts. Where’s Overland’s CO?

>>2153332
>Every comm signal at once screams and squawks about new contacts. Where’s Overland’s CO?

India's badass, but I want gopher combat.

>>2146628
>>2149582
Noticed some typos and one obvious oversight regarding Anode's armor slots after uploading. Isn't it always the way? So through the magic of Google Drive, the doc is updated under the same link.

>>2154504
You're doing a wonderful thing interpreting all the houserules and ad-hoc stuff that I've come up with.

>>2153332
>>Every comm signal at once screams and squawks about new contacts. Where’s Overland’s CO?
Gopher protocol go!

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>>2154607
I do like rules.

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>>2153343
>>2153409
>>2153425
>>2153509
>>2153555
>>2153655
>>2153811
>>2154152
>>2154160
>>2154307
>>2154424
“How you doing, Işik?”

You swoop low, over another volley of buster fire. “Gopher, where are you?”

“Almost there. Draw them around the corner.”

You don’t need telling twice, juking and weaving through the plasma ringing the air around you. “Tell me you have a plan.”

He chuckles. “I’m the plan. Just get over here. Fly low.”

In your brief time knowing the Maverick Hunter commander, you’ve come to observe something of a knack for understating things. So when you round the corner, you’ve dived for the floor and fly just a scant inch over the streets. There’s no more room to evade, once your speed advantage evens out--you’ve got nowhere to go but back up, with fire bracketing you every which-way.

Fortunately, in that brief time knowing the Maverick Hunter commander, you’ve also come to trust that he knows exactly what he’s asking you to do. The moment after you round the corner is simultaneously the most vindicating and terrifying moment of your life.

With the crack of about two dozen thunderbolts, the sky simply opens. The chaos of flickering firelight and intermittent streetlamps vanishes under the light of day, as Firestorm Gopher opens up with guns on every inch of his person, lancing out tracers in all directions from his person as your pursuers enjoy a Han Solo moment.

And it really is only a moment. The temporary daylight recedes, the night encroaching again as scrap metal and burning, twisted wrecks crash to the streets all around you in a rain of steel. You slow your manic retreat, gently coming to a halt a few meters from your partner.

“I take it that’s why they call you Firestorm?” You ask.

“Something like that,” he replies. “Any new developments?”

“Aside from the air contacts? No. You?”

He nods. “We figured out what they’re up to. Did you see the carrier?”

“It was strafing the Al Magest position on Fatih Sultan Mehmet bridge.”

“Mm. Target of opportunity--convenience, more like. They’re moving on our own air.”

You take a moment to appreciate the professionalism--however he might feel about the politics of your city, he’s keeping it to himself. You could practically feel the ‘pity, that’ coming. “We got their harriers, but there’s a large vanguard moving ahead of the carrier to keep us from getting close enough to knock it down.”

“Evac whoever you have left on that fight,” he replies. “Except Kurt, loop him in with me. Take care of your people. And don’t be airborne in five minutes.”

He sets off purposefully in the direction you came, and you resume following a ways behind--the two of you have been meeting decent success with his heavy ground firepower matched to your aerial lure and flanking.

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>>2154686
But even with his guns not firing, you can’t help but pick up the increase in ambient temperature as he walks along the road, running parallel to the river. Four small canisters have sprung loose from Gopher’s back as he runs, falling into a loose orbit and circling him. You increase your follow distance as you comm in orders to your people--along with quick, discrete check-ins, to make sure they’re all okay.

The air begins to chop with turbulence, forcing you to drop back even farther--ahead, the ground swirls with debris in a loose ring around Gopher, as he draws closer to the front line.

“Kurt’s sent his forces off. He says he can hold on his own, but not long,” you report. “Linking comms now.”

“Kurt? Gopher. Wall yourself off. Damage anything you have to.”

“Stop being delicate, got it,” the Lieutenant Colonel acknowledges grimly--you can hear the fatigue in his voice.

A small pylon rises from Gopher’s back as those bits around him begin to pick up speed--and the air starts to shimmer with heat waves. The vanguard is in range now, a salvo of buster fire splashing across Gopher’s front as he sprints through it, undaunted and shields aflare.

He doesn’t slow down when they draw melee weapons, doesn’t slow down when they charge him--but they do. The heat suddenly swells dramatically in a pulse of lambic glow. Tires on abandoned cars begin to melt and each footfall cracks window panes and shudders signboards. This close to the historical district, the roads are still asphalt--though no longer, as Gopher’s tread leaves running tar behind him. The mavericks, quite simply, wither and die as he barrels through them, melting and burning, and strat matter captured by a now-audible whistle of suction from the orbiting satellites around the Commander. Matter--road, car, maverick, whatever--accretes into a red-white slurry of molten light, and still the gale increases.

By now, the midday sun seems to light Istanbul once again, as you finally abandon the air and drop to the floor, the turbulence overwhelming for your lighter frame. Ahead, past the blinding glare, you see the carrier looming over the channel, lumbering around to put guns on the sprinting fireball below.

Then Gopher fires.

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>>2154694
In all the chaos, you hadn’t noticed the swirl, almost twenty meters in all directions, but you know it for its absence in an instant. All the roiling flame shrieks in the vacuum, drawn in to a single point atop the pylon. Ahead, Kurt’s flames gutter and feed the inferno, slender tendrils like fingers that join the whole, collapsing to a singularity for one instant as Gopher raises both his busters and aims.

A shooting star lances across the sky, a flaming javelin brought down to a sewing needle’s thread. It glimmers for a moment, and is gone.

In the next instant, the air ignites, and the carrier--run through and left with a pinprick hole amidships--suddenly buckles and a giant, end-to-end cylinder is cored straight out of the heart of the machine. The water roils and boils soundlessly against what sounds like sizzling from every direction.

The light fades, and the airship buckles, listing to one side as the two halves, connected by a thread, bend under their superheated keels and simply fall apart. It almost lazily plummets to earth in a gentle arc, even before the secondary explosions begin to chain through the superstructure and the sea reaches up to consume the maverick dreadnought.

A dazed, slightly singed Ates Kurt blinks back at you, bewildered. Gopher’s headlong charge slows to a trot, and he finally lets go, pylon and orbiters retreating back from whence they came. Ignoring his stunned expression, Gopher puts two fingers to his ear and comms.

“India, you’re clear.”

A single jet--you hadn’t heard or seen it, for the light show--streaks overhead, through the space the carrier once held. “Don’t have to tell me twice, luv. Cheers.”

It’s then that you notice…
>The strange, angular blue panes that seem to be suspended in the sky. Didn’t the hunters have another flyer up there?
>The steady, heavy thud of big guns, and tracers scything up at distant targets, and, on comms--Russian.

>>2154705
I love Gopher. And fire.

>The steady, heavy thud of big guns, and tracers scything up at distant targets, and, on comms--Russian.

Ladies and gentlemen, Firestorm Gopher's special weapon...

Fire Drill.

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>>2154705
>The steady, heavy thud of big guns, and tracers scything up at distant targets, and, on comms--Russian.
It's bear time

>>2154705
>The steady, heavy thud of big guns, and tracers scything up at distant targets, and, on comms--Russian.

Time to bring this thread to bear.

>>2154746
Fittingly understated

>The steady, heavy thud of big guns, and tracers scything up at distant targets, and, on comms--Russian.

Time for collateral.

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>>2154705
FIRE GOOD!
Now I need MORE GUNS!
>The steady, heavy thud of big guns, and tracers scything up at distant targets, and, on comms--Russian.

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>>2154705
>The steady, heavy thud of big guns, and tracers scything up at distant targets, and, on comms--Russian.
CYKA BLYAT

sorry Firefly, but we played a full chapter as you on the Limited op

>>2154705
>>The strange, angular blue panes that seem to be suspended in the sky. Didn’t the hunters have another flyer up there?
I want to see the new fighter so bad just so I can figure out how to improve it.

>>2154705
>The steady, heavy thud of big guns, and tracers scything up at distant targets, and, on comms--Russian.

>>2154705
>The steady, heavy thud of big guns, and tracers scything up at distant targets, and, on comms--Russian.
BEAR WITH US

>>2154705
>The steady, heavy thud of big guns, and tracers scything up at distant targets, and, on comms--Russian.
burr

>>2154705
>The steady, heavy thud of big guns, and tracers scything up at distant targets, and, on comms--Russian.

So many puns. Guess we just have to grin and bear it.

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>>2154705
>B E A R

>>2154705
>>The steady, heavy thud of big guns, and tracers scything up at distant targets, and, on comms--Russian.
We can bearly understand their accent, I'm guessing?

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>>2154705
+1 for the bear landslide

>>2154705
>>The steady, heavy thud of big guns, and tracers scything up at distant targets, and, on comms--Russian.

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Unsurprisingly, no second post tonight. Now that we're swinging again, though, I'll run 'til it's done. New threads need making, I'll make them. I do still have a life, unfortunately--two things on my books tomorrow, on top of a general constant cookie-production factory thing. Lots of care packages going out this year.

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>>2156547
Yes, let us be merry and celebratory during this most wonderful season, and make time as needs allow to expound on the wonderful things that shall happen to everyone's favorite 4th Overland officer in the coming year.

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>>2156695

>>2156547
excellent, its great to have you back hunter.

>>2154705
Did we ever learn Gopher's rank? Because it is apparently higher than I thought.

>The steady, heavy thud of big guns, and tracers scything up at distant targets, and, on comms--Russian.

>>2157348
S, according to HC in the IRC

>>2157433
>You can build an S. At that point, they're more gun than person
Schwarz wasn't kidding.

>>2157532
Nigga

>>2157532
More gun than person is a G. And you can build them. You can't build an S because it takes skill.

>>2157535
>>2157543
Oh. I misremembered.

>>2157552
S-ranks -can- be extremely... gun. As demonstrated. But they worked their way up to it.

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>>2154719
>>2154763
>>2154764
>>2154773
>>2154780
>>2154783
>>2154800
>>2154894
>>2155068
>>2155476
>>2155910
>>2156371
>>2156377
>>2156391
>>2157348
The Commander is firing.

You give a whoop--for yourself, mostly--as there are not any friends to share it with. Dijamant Lav could not join you--the streets bogged down in the fighting, by the time he arrived. Perhaps it is better this way.

“You are sure I cannot use the cannon,” you ask him. He knows from long experience you are not really asking.

“Another day, Major,” he says.

“Alas,” you reply sadly. You will have to one-up him some other time. Still, there is plenty to be done with what you have available.

Plasma splashes across your shoulder as the next wave crests the hill, only to bow their heads (or lose them) as you sweep your right arm across the field, barrels spinning.

“Yes!” You call. “Yes! Come and fight!”

They do not, of course--not after the first, the second, the fourth time they dared you. Turning away, you adjust your aim down upon the river once again, even as the tail of the slain carrier disappears into history. Around it, still, tracers crisscross and lap at your shinplates, now pocked and scarred from shouldering their burdens.

The gunships could not be allowed to control the channel, you were informed. Nor their air force the sky. The infantry could not gain this point. All of this could not be allowed.

The Commander chose you for this place for a reason.

Firing down at them from atop the bend in the Bosphorus, you cannot help but pity them. So many sent to the bottom with their fellows, never seeing what they were firing at as they vanished below--where Marine awaits. Even as their target designators finally marked you, they realize, one by one, ship by ship, and too late: They have you right where you want them.

This, this is the fight you were built for. A rare solid-projectile round buries itself in your shoulder, shields ignoring it as it dents your pauldron. You turn and raise your gun to the sky once more, setting it alight with another stream of counter-fire. You hear a shout, and lift your other arm again, ready to meet the next barrage with yours. Fire cuts across your chest, plasma and shield flicker dance over your eyes.

Your armor holds. Your shields hold. Ideal.

“Ursa, can you hear me?” Dijamant comms. “The pig is back!”

His plasma bolt thuds into your back just a moment after. “Yes. I have been expecting him.”

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>>2158795
The swine--swine in all ways--is no artist with his weapon, clearly lacking skill. Your shields ignore the second and third salvos, so poorly they are timed. He boosts back and forth directly overhead, electrical bombs raining as he uses his jetpack to evade your arc. Though undisciplined, his fire is strong--you feel flakes of armor crumble from you under the assault.

Unfortunately, he lacks experience, and has no idea when he is simply being led along.

Your Vulcan Rail, long obsoleted by fearsome upgrades to your main weaponry, simply reaches up and takes him in an instant. The look of shock on this Powerpack Peccary’s face is memorable as tungsten hail punches through weapon, body, and pack in a firing lane he never knew you had.

A moment later, he explodes in midair, no clean LIFE cell consumption, but his magazines--a great many of them--detonating from within. For the third time in just a few minutes, the world brightens again as the maverick leaves it.

You can’t resist, comming Commander Gopher once more as the light fades and the metal rain begins anew. “Perhaps not as dramatic, but I make do, yes?”

Gopher chuckles, as you turn your guns back on the next air wave, swooping low. “Da, Major.”

>Elsewhere, under clearing skies, lightning strikes.
>But how fare your new little sisters?

>>2158798
>Elsewhere, under clearing skies, lightning strikes.

>>2158798
Can I ask who the Little Sisters are?

>>2158798
>But how fare your new little sisters?
I have no clue who this option is, so I will vote for it.

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>>2158798
>>But how fare your new little sisters?
Mystery box? Mystery box.

>>2158798
>But how fare your new little sisters?

>>2158835
50 points.

Oh goddamn. I have got to not laugh about this so hard.

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>>2158798
>Elsewhere, under clearing skies, lightning strikes.
Let's check back in with the protagonist. (I think.)

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>>2158835
>>2158877
Yeah, that one is just... so spot on it hurts.

>>2158798
>But how fare your new little sisters?

MYSTERY BOX OPTION.

>>2158798
>But how fare your new little sisters?
MYSTERY BOX

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>>2158798
>Elsewhere, under clearing skies, lightning strikes.
Cathode?
>But how fare your new little sisters?
India and Flares? (I think?)

Let's go with the latter two/mystery box

>>2158798
>>Elsewhere, under clearing skies, lightning strikes.

>>2158798
>But how fare your new little sisters?

I am curious what awaits.

>Elsewhere, under clearing skies, lightning strikes.

>>2158798
>But how fare your new little sisters?

>>2158798
>But how fare your new little sisters?

I think the Sisters are so tempting because it's currently from Ursa's perspective.

>>2158798
>MYSTERY BOX

>>2158798
>Elsewhere, under clearing skies, lightning strikes.

I'm worked that without our supervision, Anode may become competent.

>>2158798
>>Elsewhere, under clearing skies, lightning strikes.
Going through sass withdrawal. Need an injection, stat.

>>2160282
So isn’t it best to leave him alone for as long as we can?

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>>2160390
Doesn't seem to help when HC does it.

>>2160395
Now for a longer wait while HC goes to the burn unit...

>>2160395
>>2160399
Like I said on the IRC a while back, the only fix is for us to get HC a better job.

>>2160395
BURNED TO THE GROUND

>>2158798
>Elsewhere, under clearing skies, lightning strikes

>But how fare your new little sisters?

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>>2160390
>>2160395
>>2160399
>>2160417
>>2160438

>>2160534
How is finding him a job not made of chaos and despair bully

>>2160535
It isn't. I'm just good-naturedly teasing about the downtime and the complaints thereof at the same time.

If I had a better job to offer HC, they'd have first through tenth dibs.

>>2160543
HC needs to post his resume so we can go over it and give him tips!

>>2160560
>Skills include describing beer, witticisms, Satan-wrangling and vanishing for weeks/months
Seems fine to me!

>>2160569
...d-dad?

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>>2160395
NO BULLY
>>2160438
NO BULLY
>>2160534
No... bully?

Surprise Christmas dinner tonight, AFTER a gym asskicking. I should (should) still be able to get a post out this evening.

>>2158798
>>Elsewhere, under clearing skies, lightning strikes.

Let's see what this briKZZZAAAP

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Okay, back home, a little later than I thought. Looks like the sisters vote won--I'll try to get it out tonight, but if not, no biggie.

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>>2158832
>>2158835
>>2158862
>>2158997
>>2159019
>>2159312
>>2159481
>>2159655
>>2160163
>>2160506
You snap-roll back upright as God’s car door slams shut behind you.

The C330 Swallowtail is quick and responsive--it damned well better be, it’s an escort fighter--as you yaw back to center, having narrowly evaded the latest in a series of glowing blue rifts into artificial space. The good news is your fame precedes you. The bad news is that the mavericks knew you’d be coming. And they set a trap, for you and only you.

Normally you’d be thrilled, but this one is out there, even for them--no less than seven enemy carriers have spread out across the skies of Istanbul, each dropping floating pylons here, there, everywhere.

Once enough of them are deployed, they triangulate, match signals, and mass-trap everything between them in Cyberspace. Of course, with no infrastructure to contain them and a limited power source, they promptly then terminate the domain and shunt everything back into realspace at the nearest programmed exit coordinates--

The ground. And the cheeky little shits are aiming to drop you right onto the fleeing civilians.

Gopher already bailed your ass out of the opening move, leaving you a threadbare window to escape through by blasting a hole in the nearest carrier. With rage born of indignance--and that buried, godawful knowing that you lived only by grace and the act of another--you retasked on the remaining carriers, now turning on anything civilian they could find.

You’re not alone up here, though, unfortunately--each of the survivors had an escort of its own, and close coordination with the ground forces tells you that your least favorite person is probably running this operation. Seven’s thorough, you’ll give him that.

The radio crackles as Flares comms from below the shimmering panes of Cosmic Bluescreen chasing you over the skyline. “That one was close. You okay up there?”

“Just fine, m’dear,” you reply calmly, even as your integrated senses claw out through the Swallowtail’s in all directions, looking for the next trap. “Just wanted to give ‘em hope. You?”

“It’s not getting any clearer down here, I’ll tell you that much,” she replies. “You were right--this is a full on staging ground.”

“Mind those guns, luv,” you warn.

“Hm?” A third voice--your new Bulgarian friend and Firefly’s erstwhile partner--chimes in.

“Er--not you, Mŭlniya.”

“Mm,” he grunts by way of acknowledgement. Good chat.

“He’s tied up with Al Magest,” Flares explains. “He’s keeping them busy at the chokepoint, rather than us.” For obvious reasons. “They had charges with them--they’re going to try to blow the bridge.”

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>>2161351
“So what’s the plan, l--Flares?”

“Simple. If we get rid of this Outline guy, there’s not much reason for them to blow up the bridge, is there?”

“Would also kick a leg out from under their supply for the night’s festivities,” you note. “Need a hand?”

The grin in her voice is unmistakable. “Pretty sure I’ve got this one, India. Happy hunting.”

You flip the cap off the firing stud, nosing down on a slow, fat carrier that still has no idea you managed to claw your way above it. “Cheers.”

>Overland’s report just came in. What’s their status?
>You are Captain Anode, and you’re setting yourself a new high score.

>>2161354
>You are Captain Anode, and you’re setting yourself a new high score.

>>2161354
>You are Captain Anode, and you’re setting yourself a new high score.

>>2161354
>You are Captain Anode, and you’re setting yourself a new high score.

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>>2161354
>>You are Captain Anode, and you’re setting yourself a new high score.

I guess it's about time to go back to the main character.

>>2161354
>>You are Captain Anode, and you’re setting yourself a new high score.

>>2161354
>>You are Captain Anode, and you’re setting yourself a new high score.
back in an actual voting hotseat!

>>2161354
>You are Captain Anode, and you’re setting yourself a new high score.

I can hear the zenny from here.

>>2161354
>You are Captain Anode, and you’re setting yourself a new high score.

I must logically conclude that this means Anode has been jumping on heads in sequence to acquire a 1UP.

>>2161354
>You are Captain Anode, and you’re setting yourself a new high score.

>>2161354
>You are Captain Anode, and you're setting yourself a new high score.

>>2161354
>>You are Captain Anode, and you’re setting yourself a new high score.

I think he might be having fun with out us and that needs to be rectified.

>>2161354
>You are Captain Anode, and you’re setting yourself a new high score.
Might as well get back to our favorite shock jockey

>>2161354
>>You are Captain Anode, and you’re setting yourself a new high score.
I want to see this.

>>2161517
absolutely, we need to pour more suffering on him STAT!

....woah, I think CL infected me for a moment there.

>>2161610
Ah yes, rather than the Sigma virus or even the Zero virus, the CainLabs virus is what makes the most dangerous and cold blooded of monsters.

>>2161354
>You are Captain Anode, and you’re setting yourself a new high score.

>>2161610
I mainly want to see what's on the receiving end of an electrically themed tackle. But hey, CL has been making us into a bunch of... sadists? Masochists? Can't tell which since it is our character?

>>2161354
>You are Captain Anode, and you’re setting yourself a new high score.
Gotta hit those leaderboards, baby!

>>2161354
>Overland’s report just came in.
I just wanted to c-c-combobreak, honestly.

>>2161354
>You are Captain Anode, and you’re setting yourself a new high score.

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Right, post should be forthcoming tonight but I need a little respite so I don't go maverick. Last night was a shit-show. In the meantime, we're holding a raffle, winner gets to be shot in the face by Cain Labs.

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>>2162771
raffle tickets, you say?

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>>2161363
>>2161370
>>2161377
>>2161378
>>2161382
>>2161387
>>2161398
>>2161420
>>2161476
>>2161477
>>2161517
>>2161534
>>2161605
>>2161839
>>2162068
>>2162461
You are Captain Anode, and here comes the next son of a bitch.

You’ve gotten pretty damned good at hunting CF-0s by now--you’ve certainly had the practice, all night long. It’s been hours, but finally the near-constant irregular thuds of titan’s footfalls has quieted. The CF-1s have disgorged their contents and, you’re told, retreated, but you’d rather leave a ground threat for the military to contain and keep the buildings upright.

This particular one has managed to give you the slip twice--for pressing local concerns, you’ve had to let it pass, or had only a brief window to snipe its head. You’ve done so, but neither shot was the last one. By now, though, rappelling back down to ground, you’ve finally got the trap set.

You learned a thing or two--they’re simply too massive to slow down with your coils, but you can use that against them--when you break a high-tension line at max load, the snapback is a thing and a half.

As it walks facefirst into the line, it doesn’t even slow it down--but the telltale crumple-twang of shearing braid preludes the rather vicious backlash, yanking off the building you moored it from and whipping around and around the CF-0’s giant, stupid head. The ends slap against it with enough force to tear through a car and shred at its face with strangling, jangling bladed fray. Its shields pulse one, two, and it’s done.

“Anode to Gopher,” you comm. “That’s the last of them. No further officers since Eviction.”

“Roger that, tasking you Southwest,” comes his immediate response. “Take on any objectives along the way and report in for big trouble. I’m tasking anyone who can move fast enough to catch up with you.”

You cut the line, and change tuning. “You get all that, Delphi?”

“I did,” she replies--your eye in the sky (on the ground), she’s been a godsend for setting up these ambushes and minimizing the harm the mavericks can do--the last three CF-0s you brought down were in already-evacuated areas. “I’ve got Reploid civilians under fire in the old section of the city, and the evacuations to the South are getting logjammed. Conflicting reports about Al Magest screening the lines, nothing concrete yet.

>With mavericks in the streets, those evacuations need to get cleared before they’re flanked.
>Have Delphi path you a route via back streets to the old city. Reploids are people too.