View Full Version : Aquila v. Chromium7

07-29-2014, 08:04 PM
Hey guys looks who back with a new wRHG, that's right, it's me :D! I'm putting up my debut fight of L.L (Lock and Load) Bust, the Bounty Hunter; against Chromium7, the maker of Dante Rockwell. L.L is a cyborg who's ready to hunt down any mark with his caliber morphing cannon and wide array of ammunition, along with his 2 bottles of highly volatile liquids and 2 bottles of highly acidic liquids. Dante Rockwell, known as Experiment Delta, is an enhanced human made to fight it out in the RHG tournament. He wields two butterfly knives with grace and lethal skill, backing them up with some long range hand blasters, wrist blades, and a jetpack. Let the best writer win!

“Target: Dante Rockwell. Age: 35. Wanted for: Thief and murder. Bounty: 20 grand. Wanted: Dead or Alive (Preferably Alive)” Bust read the bounty poster he had in his hands. He looked through the extra details, the man carried at all times two butterfly knives, wrist spikes, hand blasters, and a jetpack. He was experimented on and is more capable than the average human. The picture in the middle didn’t tell him much else, only a close up of the man’s face, he couldn’t tell anything about the physique.

Tracking the person would be no problem, as his scoping lens scanned the face, analyzing every curve and dip. Dots materialized on his screen to map out the face and once finished the lens beeped. He stopped zeroing in on the picture and let himself come back to reality as he focused on the world around him. Instantly, the sound of blaring car horns and the mass chatter of pedestrians filled his ears.

His contact had swore upon his mother’s grave that the mark was in Paris, but Bust didn’t have his hopes up. With this many people, anyone could be in Paris as far as he was concerned. He was sitting inside his suite and leaving Blunderbuss behind, he walked out to the balcony and stood there gazing at the crowd. The noon sun casted a hot glow on the people walking but a cold wind blew gently, making the day a very wonderful experience. Clouds drifted lazily by, occasionally cloaking the population in shadows as it glided past the sun. His small stature didn’t allow him to look over the bannister so he looked underneath it, sitting on the floor with his legs dangling off and his hands secured around the poles.

His scoping lens focused to x32 and he looked at the faces of the people walking around him. Dots formulated on faces and one after another he constantly got the red mark that they weren’t the person he was looking for. With a static sigh he pulled out a cigarette and fit it into his mouth, he kept his eye on the crowd as he lit the cigarette with a match and threw the smoldering stick into the wind with smoke drifting from his cheeks. The wind whipped up his bandana, and he brushed it out of his face before it put out the cigarette, or got lit on fire.

Suddenly his lens beeped, and puzzled he tapped it. It wasn’t time to take his supplements he had taken his lunch supplements just an hour ago, that could only mean… he found him. He scanned the crowd again and got a positive reading. The mark was walking and was wearing a hoodie with a backpack strapped on his back, Bust could tell with a simple x ray that he was walking around fully armed, the jetpack was a tight fit for the backpack to cover.

Bust was glad his room was only two floors up as he grabbed Blunderbuss. He ran back to the balcony and hoisted himself up to the bannister. He propped himself there and looked for somewhere to land in. A tree sat a few meters away from him and after shrinking Blunderbuss into a pistol, he jumped. Branches thrashed and cracked while twigs and leaves fell onto the people below. Confused many gazed into the tree to catch a view what seemed to be a mummy climbing out of the tree.

The mark was on the other side of the road and still walking at his leisurely pace so Bust tailed him from his side, unable to cross the road because of heavy traffic. He hurried to keep in view of Dante as his small figure made him easy to bully around in heavy foot traffic.

They soon reached an intersection and Bust got a chance to cross the street as the mark instead of crossing streets, turned and continued on his way on the sidewalk. They were going deep into the shopping district where the bounty hunter had to stay weary. There were a lot of alleyways the mark could duck into and with his reputation as a thief, Bust had no trouble believing that the man was a very fit person.

There was another problem with the shopping district and Bust rested his hand on Blunderbuss, ready to draw it if necessary, and the problem was called pickpockets. There were a lot of pickpockets out here, disguising themselves as guides to trick tourists. Or they were sidewalk acts that would lure in a crowd and a child would run through them, taking their wallets and valuables right underneath their noses.

Bust knew his figure would attract unwanted attention and it wasn’t something he wanted. A child walked up to him, and in a cute Italian accent asked him, “Do you need help to find something?”

Bust shook his head and brushed past the boy with a gentle push of his hand, “No thank you, I’m completely fine.”

The boy grabbed his hand with both hands and pulled at him, but Bust’s metal body made him immovable to the fragile boy, “No sir I insist that you let me help you.” The cyborg’s eye caught the quick dart the boy made for his waist side pouch and he grabbed the hand.

Holding it tight in his leather gauntlet Bust growled, “Leave me alone, or you’ll be leaving here without my wallet but a broken hand.” The boy nodded fearfully and ran off. Bust looked up and cursed, he had lost sight of the mark. He tapped his lens into x ray mode and pierced through the mob of people ahead of him. He looked for the metal jetpack and finally found Dante, he was in the middle of the crowd.

It was a foolish move, because even though he made himself a hard target for snipers, such close proximity would make him an easy target for a knifing or close range gun fire. He shrugged, the man must not know that he had a bounty on his head. Bust pushed through the crowd, trying to get closer to the man, and soon he had the man in his sights again.

He had to wait for the mark to go to somewhere more secluded, there were too many pedestrians that could ruin the hunt if they were to get involved. Suddenly two meaty hands grabbed each of his arms and dragged him away. Bust struggled but the two men were golems of men and easily carried his weight. “You know you pissed off the boss real hard with that stunt you pulled with his son.” One of them grumbled and L.L groaned, great, the pickpocket was part of the mafia.

The mark was disappearing as Bust was taken further away, the cyborg had to resort to something he hated doing, but twenty grand was on the line so if it had to be resolved in a foot chase so be it. Bust coughed and then screamed. The voice box wasn’t made to register such high frequencies so when the sharp noise entered the voice box, the mechanical circuits turned it into a high pitch screech, the sound was similar to a metal knife sawing through a metal plate, or nails against a chalkboard.

The sound forced those closest to him to cover their ears with their hands and as the two men released him, he bolted towards Dante who had begun running as soon as he heard the noise. The noise had disorientated many of the pedestrians so he easily pushed pass them as he watched the hooded figure in the distance. Dante ducked into an alleyway and Bust followed close behind and a 2x4 flashed over his head. The plank of wood would’ve hit a grown man in the head but Bust wasn’t grown, or a man for that matter either.

He pulled Blunderbuss from his pocket and aimed it at Dante who stared down with confusion at the tiny mummy standing before him. He eyed the gun in the cyborg’s hands and dropped the wooden plank. He raised both of his hands in defeat, his fingerless gloves covering the palm of his hands. Suddenly Bust heard a faint whining and it was followed by a faint glow showing through the gloves.

Panicked, he tumbled to the side as two laser shot blazed a hole where he stood. Dante stamped his foot and flames jetted out of his jetpack and he soared for the roof of the building. Bust aimed and fired, aiming for the jetpack. He hit the fuel tank, fuel splattered out and the jetpack fizzled out before Dante could reach the roof. He grasped onto the ledge he had reached and scrambled to get over. Bust shouted, “Get down here, or I will shoot you, and I won’t be aiming for your jetpack.”

The man sighed and he slid down the wall, using windows to make his decent easier. “So,” he started once he finally hit the floor, his hands curled into fists and hung at his side, “What do you want with me?” His hood had fallen off during his decent and Bust got a good look at the man, he had long black hair that hung over his eyes and ears, but he brushed it out of the way to expose his green eyes. The man was pale but he looked healthy and strong, so simply a sign he had to get out more.

“I’m a bounty hunter,” Bust got off the ground, “and you have a twenty grand bounty on your head. Lucky for you, they want you alive. But,” he pointed Blunderbuss at Dante, “They’ll also accept you dead so don’t tempt me.” The two stood there at a standstill, but it was broken not by either of them, instead by the mafia.

Two men had walked into the alleyway, alerted by the sound of gunfire. Each of them held a Sig Sauer in their hands and they were eager to use them. “Hey you, the one in the hoodie, move out of the way.” One remarked as he pushed past him, “We don’t know who you are, but we have business with the small pint here.”

The other pointed his gun menacingly at Dante, “You heard my buddy, now scat before you get what’s coming to him.” He jerked his head towards Bust. Dante smacked the gun down and elbowed the man in the stomach. He followed it by grabbing the hunched man by the head and kneeing him, snapping his nose and snapping him unconscious.

The other turned in surprise, alerted by the scuffle, “Hey what the hell is?” He stared down the barrel of the Sig Sauer Dante was holding. “Hey, do you know who you’re messing with? We’re the Craescu family.”

Bust shot him in the back of the head, “Yea don’t really care.” He looked at the unconscious man, “Now are you going to kill him or should I?”

Dante stared at Bust with an expression of malice, the pistol still in his hand, “Why did you kill him? You could’ve just knocked him unconscious and left.”

Bust shrugged and shot the other man, “They got between me and my bounty. So as far as I’m concerned,” he pointed the gun at Dante, “they’re collateral damage. By the way they’re thugs, no one’s going to miss them. Now come with me so that I can turn you in.”

“Who sent you? Was it Nexcorp? Are you one of their experiments?” Dante hands tensed as he prepared for action.

“What’s Nexcorp?” Bust tilted his head in confusion, “And the only experiment I’m a victim of is my own. I’m hunting you because you’ve stolen some valuable stuff and you’ve killed people. Clean and simple.”

The bounty hunter wasn’t giving any opening and Dante knew it, but he couldn’t get caught, not now, he still had people to hunt down and put to justice. The enhanced human swooped down and dodged the bullet by a few centimeters. He pulled out a butterfly knife from the hidden sheath on his calf and dashed in, opening the blade with a few deft flicks of his wrist.

Blunderbuss grew in Bust’s hands and he placed the cannon between the two. He heard the shriek of metal on metal as the cannon blocked Dante’s stab and he flicked the cannon up, flipping it to hit Dante’s arm.

The cannon smacked Dante’s hand but he held on tight to his knife. He used the momentum to spin his torso and grabbed the end of Blunderbuss, holding it in the air. He held the cannon vertical and kicked off it, pushing his full weight onto his one foot.

The push dragged Bust back slightly, but he dug the teeth of the cannon into the ground to anchor himself. He spun the cannon and planted it on his shoulder. He fired a cannon ball, but the man had already dodged out of the way by the time he pulled the trigger.

Dante jumped onto the wall and used it as a spring board to tackle Bust. He straddled the small cyborg and pointed his butterfly knife at Bust’s eye, “Leave me alone, I can’t go to jail, I still have things to do.”

“Not my problem.” Bust stated. Blunderbuss shrank in his hand and he pushed the barrel into the man’s side, “Now get off before we have a nice look at your insides.” A small whining echoed through the alley. A laser pulse hit Bust’s right forearm, melting through the armor and the force sent Bust’s hand back, a shot rang out but the bullet sank into the brick wall.

Blunderbuss slipped through his fingers, his hand unmoving, “You son of a bitch!” Bust yelled, the shot had torn muscles in his forearm that prevented him from functioning his hand.

Dante stared at Bust, “Give up, I don’t want to have to kill you. Give up!” He raised his hand over his knife, the butterfly knife glinting dangerously.

Bust panted through his pain, “Go. To. Hell!” He emphasized each word. Dante sighed in defeat and stabbed down. The knife punctured his first layer of armor and entered Bust’s body. Dante pulled it out despite its shrieking refusal as the knife grated against metal. He pulled the knife out and inspected the blade, there was no blood evident, and no blood was pooling on Bust’s bandages.

Bust took the chance to grab Dante’s arm and he yanked down, bringing Dante’s head closer to him, “Double plated, jackass.” He slammed his forehead against Dante’s and then pushed him off with his hand. He grabbed the butterfly knife Dante had dropped and sat up. His right arm hung at his side as he stood up, he went up to the recovering man and drove the knife into the mark’s foot.

He turned around as Dante screamed and picked up Blunderbuss. He heard the faint whining of Dante’s hand blasters charging and pointed Blunderbuss behind him, letting it grow into turret form. The giant cannon blocked up the alleyway and absorbed the two blasts. He reached for the pouch on his left arm with his left hand and struggled the clasp open. He pulled out each charge and dropped them until he found the one he needed. He pulled out the black-striped charge and fit in the blue one.

Dante struggled to pull out the knife in his foot as he stared down the gaping muzzle of the cannon. “What’s the point of this?” He asked as he finally got the knife out and stood up, supporting himself on the brick wall. “Was this all to block my lasers? How’re you going to fire such a giant gun with only one hand?” He began stumbling away, he needed to get out of there.

Bust gripped on of the two triggers, “I only need one hand.” He whispered and pulled the trigger. The cannon primed and fired what looked like a blizzard. Frost blazed across the walls as the ice blast closed in on Dante. The howling gales enveloped Dante and ice covered the man’s body. He was frozen inside and out, completely preserved.

Blunderbuss shrank and Bust walked over to the frozen sculpture, shoving the pistol into his pocket. The body wouldn’t last long, the blood cells would soon start freezing and ripping the blood vessels.

He took his phone out and called his contact, “Hey I got the mark, send in transportation.” He was interrupted by the sound of cars pulling up. He looked at the entrance of the alleyway to see black sudans. He looked behind him and saw the exit way was also closed in by black cars. The mafia was back, and they were packing heat. He continued on his phone, “And hurry.”

He walked over to the charges he had left on the floor, he shuffled through them with his foot and bent down to pick up one purple-striped bronze tube.

I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely honest with you; there was no party in Venice- not for me, anyway. You see, there’s this thing about Venice that a lot of people don’t really realize, because when somebody mentions Venice, the first thing that comes to their minds is usually themselves and a significant other holding hands in a beautiful Gondola, or marveling at the beauty of the grand Canałasso. The thing that everyone seems to entirely forget in Venice, and just about everywhere else, is a little thing called rain.

And its times like these in which those unfortunate enough to be caught in the rain start to crowd into one of Venice’s 19 enclosed vaporetti (water taxi) lines. So I found myself with two choices; hop onto a water taxi in full tournament battlegear, or catch a ride from Lorenzo. Naturally, I went for the first option, which rather quickly became an ultimatum. I could either get arrested and shipped back overseas, or catch a ride from Lorenzo.
And somehow, Lorenzo outran the cops in a Gondola; he’s the best. So when we made it to land, I gave him a stack of ducats. I had no idea they still used those in Venice, but they seemed to silence Lorenzo for the time being. If I didn’t know better, I would have said that the Venetian police force was too distracted by revolutionaries, overpopulation and flooding to chase down two guys in a swan boat.
Then I got ambushed by a five foot mummy. That was fun.

It started, as most ambushes do, in a dark, damp alleyway. There are a surprising few of these in Venice, but some still take form between buildings in some of the lower-class districts. In the rain they functioned more as drainage, and traversing them more like walking through sewage; which was more or less true. In these areas, it is actually considerably more efficient to travel from rooftop to rooftop, so it should have been no surprise that the attack came from above. That said, I was incredibly underprepared, and the mere thought of a surprise attack had completely slipped my mind. But what surprised me more was that this was not Abra – the opponent I was told I would be fighting.

So when the water beneath me was consumed in an icy mist, I will admit this; I was dreadfully underprepared. Worse still, I was quite literally frozen in place. But even still, I knew it could have been far worse. If a few seconds of sustained cold fired from the rooftop of a two-story building was enough to freeze up this much water during a flood watch, I could only imagine the damage a weapon like that could do in close quarters. But nonetheless, I was frozen in place, and my opponent was reloading a second shot. I had trouble discerning color and pattern through the heavy rain, but whatever it was he just loaded into that cannon, it didn’t look too friendly. If I had to guess- which I did, I would say that from how much care he was taking into loading that it was some sort of explosive. Deciding that I was running out of time and patience, I fired a blast of energy from my right hand- straight down the barrel as he prepared to fire. The payload-which was most certainly an explosive- exploded on contact with the concussive energy from my hand blaster. But the shockwave reached me as well, sending down an avalanche of stone and bricks from the nearby buildings. I was left dazed and confused- but both living and mobile as the ice broke into shards beneath my feet.

My opponent did not fare as well. His cannon appeared to have shielded him from much of the blast, appearing to have mostly disassembled, while the man himself was launched several feet back. What appeared to be a robotic eye was blinking on and off, and the white bandages wrapped around most of his body were left charred and unraveled- though the torrential rain washed away all remnants of open flame. Sensing and opportunity, I made my way through the rubble at the bottom of the alley and, with the help of my jetpack, hoisted myself to the top of the building.

To his credit, my opponent was quick to recover. As I made it to the rooftop, the man unhooked a heavy glass vial from his belt. The explosion had left a large crack in the vial, but the glass was thick, and did not appear to have allowed any of the liquid to have escaped. Nonetheless, I doubted it would withstand another blow. But the vial was already airborne before I had time to react, and the glass shattered on impact with my left shoulder. The glass stung, but I realized I had more serious things to worry about. I was still covered in a thin layer of frost, but that didn’t change the fact that I was doused in an unknown, possibly flammable, material in reach of the flames from my jetpack. I managed to cut the engines, but not before some of the liquid reached flashpoint. I knew the rain would dilute the flames over time, but if the flames made their way into the fuel compartment, the results would be explosive. Desperately, I slung the pack over my shoulder and dumped its entirety into a puddle of water.

The thing is… fire can sometimes be really confusing. The properties of the fire come from the properties of the fuel that is lit; wood fires, for example, burn slow and warm and are easy to extinguish, while something like napalm will tend to burn at extremely high temperatures and be much harder to put out as it is also somewhat adhesive. Unfortunately for me, my opponent’s compound appeared to be petroleum-based; slick like oil and, to my horror, less dense than water. Simply put, water did not extinguish the flames, it sunk beneath them. So I ran like hell, figuring I was too cool to stick around and look at explosions anyways. I may not have seen the fireball, but I quickly learned that just the sound of steel being ripped from steel was enough to bring me to my knees.

And that’s when I started to get angry. Because over the past few years, I had allowed myself the semblance of a fool’s morality that is honor among thieves; there were some things that I had been able to justify to myself- surprising things; assault, theft, adultery, vandalism- even murder, it shames me to say. But there were still boundaries; you don’t kick a guy while he’s down- you don’t catch him off guard- you don’t humiliate him, you just give him what he’s got coming, and you look him in the eyes when you do it. But what you don’t do- what you don’t do is shortchange him- you don’t step on him because he’s shorter, you don’t take his money when he’s earned it, you don’t break his toys when he isn’t fucking playing. And the truth is- I expected that level of respect today. Maybe I didn’t ask for it, maybe I hadn’t earned it, but what pissed me off was the fact that this- assassin didn’t think that I as a living being even deserved it.

I’d seen a lot of people go down- hard- for a lot of stupid reasons. But the last person I lost to someone with logic like that? The last person to have his heart ripped from his chest- the last person whose body was- desecrated?! That person was my brother. And the thing that killed him? That thing was a demon- a literal, straight from hell- demon. And the fact that this five-foot… linen-wrapped… punk reminded me more of the thing that killed my brother than the words on his grave woke something deep, deep down. And over the roar of combat, over the ringing in my ears, the panging in my soul, that part of me began to scream.

And that scream echoed through my entire body as I unsheathed my knives, brandished the spikes along my forearms, and charged. He reached for another vial, but my knife landed first- spiraling through the air before coming to a screeching stop as it tore through his armor. He called out in pain, but I didn’t hear him- and if I had, I wouldn’t have cared, I wouldn’t have stopped, and I didn’t stop. And as I reached him, and as I carved his armored midsection into an unholy filet of blood and iron, I told myself I would never stop. I told myself I could never let myself stop until every piece of dishonest, bloodthirsty shit was wiped off of this earth. I told myself there could be no going back, no time for regret because people like these- things like these are the ones that defile the few, precious, innocent things that are left in this world. But then I heard the screams.

And when I heard them, I stopped. I dropped the knife, I lowered the body, I knelt to the ground, and I listened. And I realized just how insane all of this was. I was going to kill this kid, I thought. I was going to kill this- this kid, and for what; because he caught me off guard, because he blew up my favorite toy? It’s just- I’m just- I’m just psychotic. I just went nuts- I just went real, full-on psycho, and this kid nearly died.
I started to shake.

“I- I’m sorry, kid. I went a little bit psycho on you there, huh?” I laughed.

The boy groaned and slumped down.

“I mean, you landed a few hits too- hell, you nearly killed me, but…” I paused for a moment, “…Hey, what’s your name, kid? I didn’t really ask- mine’s Dante, in case you don’t- you don’t know.”
He was silent.

“Come on kid, I knew a guy named John Doe, I’ve heard worse, trust me.”

“Bust,” He murmured. “L. L. Bust.”

“Tell you what, Bust;” I replied, doing my best to wrap the wound, “I know this great guy- Lorenzo- he owns this tiny little boat up the river- I bet he could help me patch you up, maybe get you to see a doctor- you know, the kind that takes insurance and all- the real good kind, you know. How does that sound?”

He groaned and made an effort to nod; he wasn’t looking so hot. I made an effort to lift him, straining at first; there was no way this kid could be that heavy.

“So where are you from, Bust?” I inquired, desperate for a response.

“Mechanus,” he responded weakly.

“Mechanus, oh.” I continued, trying to conjure up some enthusiasm as I looked for a way down. “That’s… that sounds great.”

“It sounds… lame, I know” he coughed, “That’s why I left… it was too… quiet; not enough action.”

I frowned. “Where I came from, it’s always been too loud, and too much action- That’s why I moved here, actually.”

Having found a relative incline, I began to slowly descend back to ground level. “Funny though- my brother got to be like you for a while. He and a friend of his- you know; that John guy? They used to live in this really noisy- real noisy house. There was this real crazy woman that lived down there; sweet-as-can-be, but a little cuckoo sometimes, y’know? She’d keep everyone up all night because she’d have these nightmares- and when she had ‘em, she’d scream. So my brother and John- they had this idea; they both pitched in what little dough they had, and they went and bought themselves this real good pair of headphones. Their plan was to switch ‘em out, you know, I wear ‘em one night, you get ‘em the next? Well… they did that for a while, but John told me that- he told me one day my brother just went and told him he didn’t need them things no more. He said y’know John, I think I’ve finally got to a point in my life where I can sleep just fine.”

I paused for a moment.

“Yeah he said… he said that he could sleep just… fine.”

“…I wish I knew what that’s like.”