10-21-2017, 08:58 AM
Back out in the hallway, Hijiri slid the cheap, black air filtration mask over his mouth and turned to Kroll.
“Wehh, wha duh yuh hhingh?” his words came out thoroughly muffled. This thing had been cheap, after all. If fact, he'd summoned it from the absolute bare minimum amount of Omnilium he could possibly get away with; it only needed to last through this one fight.
What he had meant to ask was 'well, what do you think?', which the other man somehow seemed to realise, despite the Rabbit's indecipherable mumbling.
“I think it'll look far more intimidating if you keep quiet; the moment you say anything you'll completely ruin the effect.” his 'superior' replied.
For a moment Hijiri was about to answer him, but then thought better of it and gave him a thumbs up instead.
“Uh-huh... well, going back in now, are you?”
Another thumbs up.
“And you're sure you don't want to spend a little time cleaning up, first?”
Thumbs down.
When he'd come back after his little stab-a-thon in the smoke-filled room, Hijiri's suit had been given a liberal coating of blood and soot, and Leon had mentioned that if he were willing to take a few minutes to do so, then he could break down the unwanted material for Omnilium. The amount he earned would be practically nothing, since dirty blood was in no way a valuable substance, but it would at least let him get clean.
He had chosen not to bother, though; even taking the time to summon the filter he'd need to be able to breathe properly in there had been pushing it; twice already in the four minutes or so he'd been out here the NSW had tried to rally and come rushing through the door. Both times Kroll's team had been able to lay down enough fire to force them to scatter, but that couldn't last forever.
He wasn't about to waste precious minutes for something as minor as stopping his clothes from being completely soaked through with blood.
And so in he went once more.
The smoke had begun to drain away, so Brandon had thrown another smoke grenade just a minute previously – if they didn't keep the room completely obscured then there was no doubt they'd be rushed down by their foes – currently, though, the Wolfpack seemed to have withdrawn from this area. They'd found their way back to the doors at the other sides of the big gambling hall and had pulled out into the areas with much less smoke whilst they made their preparations.
As soon as he was through the doors, and with blade drawn, the Battle Rabbit once again reduced his gravity and leapt forwards, almost all the way to the other side of the room, before coming to rest on a table strewn with playing cards and stepping off; floating to the floor as lightly as a feather. Once there, though, he removed his sodden shoes and socks, then reluctantly disabled the gravitational manipulation.
One might expect that being lighter would help to prevent loss of stamina, but unfortunately no powers seemed to come without a cost in the Omniverse, and he'd almost worn himself out the first time he'd been in here... though thankfully the few minutes break he'd had whilst summoning had helped with that a bit. Nevertheless, it was clear that he couldn't simply hope to remain lightweight for however long this took.
And so he'd need to make do with removing the blood-soaked footwear and trying to step as lightly as possible. Of course, with the room being as vacant as it now was, anyone who did enter would be much more likely to pick up on even minor noises... and to spot sudden movements amidst the smoke, for that matter.
Yes, he'd really need to get around to learning some actual stealth skills at some point in the future... for the time being, though, he'd just have to do the best he could.
First he slowly made his way forwards until his outstretched fingers touched a wall – treading as lightly as he could manage – then paused to listen for the sound of voices...
It was faint, but he did manage to make something out, and headed towards it. Once there he settled up against what looked in the hazy blackness like it might have been some sort of slot machine, and waited.
Without lightening himself and springing around the room as he had been previously, Hijiri had no way of monitoring all the exits to see if anyone was entering from another side of the room... he'd just have to hope that if they did then they'd make enough noise for him to notice, or that the veteran stormtroopers could handle them alone... or maybe that no one else would come through at all for another five to ten minutes; by that point he'd have rested enough that he probably could afford to keep his ability active for an extended period. Not that there was any realistic chance of them giving him that long, but hey, a man could dream, couldn't he?
***
Three minutes or so later, the double doors opened and with much fanfare – meaning in this case slaps on the back and yells of encouragement – a big man stepped into the room. Even being as near to them as he was, the Battle Rabbit could see practically nothing of the gangster besides a vague silhouette. From that, though, he could tell that his adversary was tall, extremely muscular, and was carrying what was either a big cardboard tube or some sort of rocket launcher. For some reason, Hijiri more strongly suspected the latter.
The man walked confidently towards the opposite doors – behind which Kroll and the others waited – not so much as bumping into a single table; clearly, he must be familiar with this place if he could walk around without so much as slowing down despite the poor visibility. There was no way the Rabbit would be able to keep up if he were to try and follow along at the hesitant pace he'd been walking earlier.
First reducing his whole body's weight down to practically nothing, he all but effortlessly pulled himself atop the machine against which he'd been leaning, and spent a few seconds building up power in the arm which held his katana. It was risky, since the thug's silhouette grew less distinct by the moment, but judging by his build, Hijiri knew a little lightweight attack wouldn't do much to this guy.
When ready, he sprung. Covering the distance in no time, he was pleased to note that he was more or less on target, despite barely having been able to make out his foe. The first thing he did was restore his weight to normal. The second was to release the built-up energy in his arm; increasing the weight of both it and his blade enough to make pure lead seem positively buoyant by comparison.
He slammed into the goon's back, sword-first, and was pleased to hear a loud crack as a few ribs broke, in addition to the horrible injury inflicted by the weapon, which had unfortunately not gone straight through his heart; Hijiri had been off-target enough that he'd hit one side of the man's back, rather than the dead centre, and so had pierced a lung instead. Not that it mattered. The guy couldn't last long with an injury like this. All he had to do now was revert to his normal weight – which he did with no problems – and pull free his katana – which he also... uh...
Okay. The blade was stuck. Not great.
Screaming in agony as loudly as one could with a badly damaged lung, the goon lurched backwards and fell, intentionally landing on top of the Battle Rabbit. Hijiri saw stars after his head struck the hard floor, the expensive yet fine carpet doing little to absorb the force of the blow. On top of that, the weight of the big bruiser knocked the wind from him.
Rolling off as soon as Hijiri lost his grip on the katana's hilt, the thug swung round his weapon and for a moment the Rabbit froze in place, knowing that there was no way he could hope to get clear in time if his foe was actually suicidal enough to fire a rocket launcher in melee range.
But then the idiot grabbed it by the barrel and swung it at him; using the expensive – not to mention explosive – piece of military hardware as nothing more than a crude club.
Hijiri rolled aside, just barely, but then was able to get back to his feet, though he was struggling to breathe. On the bright side, with one lung rapidly filling with blood, at least he could safely say his opponent was having an even worse time in that regard.
The sword may have been lost to him – he really had to stop stabbing people with that much force – but his left hand still held its sheathe, so Hijiri waited for the dying man's next clumsy swing, leaned back so that the 'club' would pass him by, then darted forwards in an instant; taking full advantage of his greater agility over that of the towering, muscle-bound oaf.
He slammed the sheathe into an elbow, causing the man to lose his grip with the hand of that arm, and drop the rocket launcher as a result. It wasn't a break, nor even a fracture, but he didn't currently have the energy, time or concentration to use another altered gravity strike. Just like some of the whiny blogs he'd read on the Dataverse suggested; special powers like that were much harder to use in the Omniverse than many Primes would have found them back in their own worlds.
The strike may have been comparatively weak, yet his opponent had dropped his weapon nonetheless, and now staggered back a couple steps as well, before coughing up a gout of blood... much of which hit the Rabbit, of course. If he'd had the breath to spare, he would have sighed. The one good thing to be said for the ogres which had tormented his own universe was that at least they didn't bleed all over the place. He was beginning to envy the stormtroopers just a little... not only were their weapons long-ranged, but even if they did get close to an opponent, the lasers they fired were hot enough to cauterise any wounds they inflicted.
He'd be taking a very long shower after this was all over, that was for sure.
Falling to his knees, the big guy coughed again, then keeled over. Not quite dead, maybe, but close enough. Moving over to him, Hijiri retrieved the sword, then caught his breath before continuing.
He pulled the mask down – probably not the best idea given all the smoke, but it likely wouldn't make too big a difference – and called out cheerfully to the rest of the gangsters. “Come on little wolfies, come back into the smoke, why don't you? Come join your friend over here, and find out what happens to those who defy the Empire!”
A few of them began shouting insults back, to which he responded in turn, and he was soon pleased to hear replies coming from the other sides of the room as well, as those through those doorways also took part. They called him a coward for hiding in all this smoke, rather than fighting like a real man, and he laughed in response, then mocked them for being unable to hunt him down, though he was only one man up against all of them.
It didn't take much of this before what little discipline these 'wolves' had crumbled – they were only common street criminals, after all, not real soldiers like the stormtroopers – and they began pouring into the hall. Not all of them had the last guy's familiarity with the area, though, so there were many curses as people bumped into the various machines and tables scattered throughout the room. Hijiri smiled as he fitted the filtration mask back into place and took in a couple deep breaths of clean-ish air.
On the surface, it may not seem like the best idea to invite a whole mob in here after him, especially if there were more as strong as that bruiser had been, but he knew this was necessary; not only would he need loud noise to cover his movements, but he'd noticed earlier that the most casualties came not from his own attacks but from theirs, when they panicked and started shooting his way, heedless of the safety of the comrades who stood around them. He had to get as many of them making that mistake as he could, as often as possible...
“Wehh, wha duh yuh hhingh?” his words came out thoroughly muffled. This thing had been cheap, after all. If fact, he'd summoned it from the absolute bare minimum amount of Omnilium he could possibly get away with; it only needed to last through this one fight.
What he had meant to ask was 'well, what do you think?', which the other man somehow seemed to realise, despite the Rabbit's indecipherable mumbling.
“I think it'll look far more intimidating if you keep quiet; the moment you say anything you'll completely ruin the effect.” his 'superior' replied.
For a moment Hijiri was about to answer him, but then thought better of it and gave him a thumbs up instead.
“Uh-huh... well, going back in now, are you?”
Another thumbs up.
“And you're sure you don't want to spend a little time cleaning up, first?”
Thumbs down.
When he'd come back after his little stab-a-thon in the smoke-filled room, Hijiri's suit had been given a liberal coating of blood and soot, and Leon had mentioned that if he were willing to take a few minutes to do so, then he could break down the unwanted material for Omnilium. The amount he earned would be practically nothing, since dirty blood was in no way a valuable substance, but it would at least let him get clean.
He had chosen not to bother, though; even taking the time to summon the filter he'd need to be able to breathe properly in there had been pushing it; twice already in the four minutes or so he'd been out here the NSW had tried to rally and come rushing through the door. Both times Kroll's team had been able to lay down enough fire to force them to scatter, but that couldn't last forever.
He wasn't about to waste precious minutes for something as minor as stopping his clothes from being completely soaked through with blood.
And so in he went once more.
The smoke had begun to drain away, so Brandon had thrown another smoke grenade just a minute previously – if they didn't keep the room completely obscured then there was no doubt they'd be rushed down by their foes – currently, though, the Wolfpack seemed to have withdrawn from this area. They'd found their way back to the doors at the other sides of the big gambling hall and had pulled out into the areas with much less smoke whilst they made their preparations.
As soon as he was through the doors, and with blade drawn, the Battle Rabbit once again reduced his gravity and leapt forwards, almost all the way to the other side of the room, before coming to rest on a table strewn with playing cards and stepping off; floating to the floor as lightly as a feather. Once there, though, he removed his sodden shoes and socks, then reluctantly disabled the gravitational manipulation.
One might expect that being lighter would help to prevent loss of stamina, but unfortunately no powers seemed to come without a cost in the Omniverse, and he'd almost worn himself out the first time he'd been in here... though thankfully the few minutes break he'd had whilst summoning had helped with that a bit. Nevertheless, it was clear that he couldn't simply hope to remain lightweight for however long this took.
And so he'd need to make do with removing the blood-soaked footwear and trying to step as lightly as possible. Of course, with the room being as vacant as it now was, anyone who did enter would be much more likely to pick up on even minor noises... and to spot sudden movements amidst the smoke, for that matter.
Yes, he'd really need to get around to learning some actual stealth skills at some point in the future... for the time being, though, he'd just have to do the best he could.
First he slowly made his way forwards until his outstretched fingers touched a wall – treading as lightly as he could manage – then paused to listen for the sound of voices...
It was faint, but he did manage to make something out, and headed towards it. Once there he settled up against what looked in the hazy blackness like it might have been some sort of slot machine, and waited.
Without lightening himself and springing around the room as he had been previously, Hijiri had no way of monitoring all the exits to see if anyone was entering from another side of the room... he'd just have to hope that if they did then they'd make enough noise for him to notice, or that the veteran stormtroopers could handle them alone... or maybe that no one else would come through at all for another five to ten minutes; by that point he'd have rested enough that he probably could afford to keep his ability active for an extended period. Not that there was any realistic chance of them giving him that long, but hey, a man could dream, couldn't he?
***
Three minutes or so later, the double doors opened and with much fanfare – meaning in this case slaps on the back and yells of encouragement – a big man stepped into the room. Even being as near to them as he was, the Battle Rabbit could see practically nothing of the gangster besides a vague silhouette. From that, though, he could tell that his adversary was tall, extremely muscular, and was carrying what was either a big cardboard tube or some sort of rocket launcher. For some reason, Hijiri more strongly suspected the latter.
The man walked confidently towards the opposite doors – behind which Kroll and the others waited – not so much as bumping into a single table; clearly, he must be familiar with this place if he could walk around without so much as slowing down despite the poor visibility. There was no way the Rabbit would be able to keep up if he were to try and follow along at the hesitant pace he'd been walking earlier.
First reducing his whole body's weight down to practically nothing, he all but effortlessly pulled himself atop the machine against which he'd been leaning, and spent a few seconds building up power in the arm which held his katana. It was risky, since the thug's silhouette grew less distinct by the moment, but judging by his build, Hijiri knew a little lightweight attack wouldn't do much to this guy.
When ready, he sprung. Covering the distance in no time, he was pleased to note that he was more or less on target, despite barely having been able to make out his foe. The first thing he did was restore his weight to normal. The second was to release the built-up energy in his arm; increasing the weight of both it and his blade enough to make pure lead seem positively buoyant by comparison.
He slammed into the goon's back, sword-first, and was pleased to hear a loud crack as a few ribs broke, in addition to the horrible injury inflicted by the weapon, which had unfortunately not gone straight through his heart; Hijiri had been off-target enough that he'd hit one side of the man's back, rather than the dead centre, and so had pierced a lung instead. Not that it mattered. The guy couldn't last long with an injury like this. All he had to do now was revert to his normal weight – which he did with no problems – and pull free his katana – which he also... uh...
Okay. The blade was stuck. Not great.
Screaming in agony as loudly as one could with a badly damaged lung, the goon lurched backwards and fell, intentionally landing on top of the Battle Rabbit. Hijiri saw stars after his head struck the hard floor, the expensive yet fine carpet doing little to absorb the force of the blow. On top of that, the weight of the big bruiser knocked the wind from him.
Rolling off as soon as Hijiri lost his grip on the katana's hilt, the thug swung round his weapon and for a moment the Rabbit froze in place, knowing that there was no way he could hope to get clear in time if his foe was actually suicidal enough to fire a rocket launcher in melee range.
But then the idiot grabbed it by the barrel and swung it at him; using the expensive – not to mention explosive – piece of military hardware as nothing more than a crude club.
Hijiri rolled aside, just barely, but then was able to get back to his feet, though he was struggling to breathe. On the bright side, with one lung rapidly filling with blood, at least he could safely say his opponent was having an even worse time in that regard.
The sword may have been lost to him – he really had to stop stabbing people with that much force – but his left hand still held its sheathe, so Hijiri waited for the dying man's next clumsy swing, leaned back so that the 'club' would pass him by, then darted forwards in an instant; taking full advantage of his greater agility over that of the towering, muscle-bound oaf.
He slammed the sheathe into an elbow, causing the man to lose his grip with the hand of that arm, and drop the rocket launcher as a result. It wasn't a break, nor even a fracture, but he didn't currently have the energy, time or concentration to use another altered gravity strike. Just like some of the whiny blogs he'd read on the Dataverse suggested; special powers like that were much harder to use in the Omniverse than many Primes would have found them back in their own worlds.
The strike may have been comparatively weak, yet his opponent had dropped his weapon nonetheless, and now staggered back a couple steps as well, before coughing up a gout of blood... much of which hit the Rabbit, of course. If he'd had the breath to spare, he would have sighed. The one good thing to be said for the ogres which had tormented his own universe was that at least they didn't bleed all over the place. He was beginning to envy the stormtroopers just a little... not only were their weapons long-ranged, but even if they did get close to an opponent, the lasers they fired were hot enough to cauterise any wounds they inflicted.
He'd be taking a very long shower after this was all over, that was for sure.
Falling to his knees, the big guy coughed again, then keeled over. Not quite dead, maybe, but close enough. Moving over to him, Hijiri retrieved the sword, then caught his breath before continuing.
He pulled the mask down – probably not the best idea given all the smoke, but it likely wouldn't make too big a difference – and called out cheerfully to the rest of the gangsters. “Come on little wolfies, come back into the smoke, why don't you? Come join your friend over here, and find out what happens to those who defy the Empire!”
A few of them began shouting insults back, to which he responded in turn, and he was soon pleased to hear replies coming from the other sides of the room as well, as those through those doorways also took part. They called him a coward for hiding in all this smoke, rather than fighting like a real man, and he laughed in response, then mocked them for being unable to hunt him down, though he was only one man up against all of them.
It didn't take much of this before what little discipline these 'wolves' had crumbled – they were only common street criminals, after all, not real soldiers like the stormtroopers – and they began pouring into the hall. Not all of them had the last guy's familiarity with the area, though, so there were many curses as people bumped into the various machines and tables scattered throughout the room. Hijiri smiled as he fitted the filtration mask back into place and took in a couple deep breaths of clean-ish air.
On the surface, it may not seem like the best idea to invite a whole mob in here after him, especially if there were more as strong as that bruiser had been, but he knew this was necessary; not only would he need loud noise to cover his movements, but he'd noticed earlier that the most casualties came not from his own attacks but from theirs, when they panicked and started shooting his way, heedless of the safety of the comrades who stood around them. He had to get as many of them making that mistake as he could, as often as possible...
![[Image: Hijiri_Name_Sig.png]](https://image.ibb.co/k1H7Hd/Hijiri_Name_Sig.png)