04-21-2018, 04:50 PM
The sound of air-driven pistons echoed down the damp hallways of the irrigation plant. There came an abrupt crack-thud as Drake delivered a spinning wheel kick to some junkie's neck. The dumb kid went slumping to the ground, and under normal circumstances, Drake may have been concerned he'd killed the guy. As it was, he was naked, armed with a five-shot pistol inside the headquarters of a chaotic bandit-cult that was starting to catch on fire. Drake glanced up at the dormant fire-suppression systems overhead and snorted softly. There was no way in hell that those were still operating, naturally. Although, it wasn't a total loss.
Drake liked the idea of claiming that he had burned down a water-treatment plant. That didn't solve his problems, though. Focus man!
There was really only one thing preventing him from just jumping out the nearest window and dashing off into the night. He glanced down at his nuts. Okay maybe a few things, but chief among them was the thought that he'd be living that sister's dumb kid brother vulnerable and potentially burned-alive in this place. Then again, he wasn't exactly a hero and didn't like the idea of sticking around bandit-town to rescue some kid. Decisions...decisions.
Okay, so the problem was that the building was on fire and the kid might be trapped inside. The aggravation to that problem was that the fire sprinklers weren't working, BUT, they were in a goddamn pumping substation. The entire building was full of water mains and sewage outflows that could put out some dumb old fire ten times over. Vito had mentioned that they'd rigged the entire place to ruin the plumbing infrastructure, but Drake himself had said that this kind of thing could be Prime-fixed in less than a day.
Clearly the solution here was to blow the place up MORE to put out the fire. Yes. That was the plan. Now I COULD write about how Drake managed to pull this off, with all of his cunning and nudity, but the reality of the situation is that Aaron's kids are waking up from their nap and he just wants this goddamn scene to end. So...we're just gonna skip ahead to the–
SKABOOSHH
Drake was thrown to the ground as he dashed out of the main circulation concourse. The force of the explosives shook the entire building, and forced him to loosen his grip on his trusty plasma weapon. The itsy bitsy gun clanked and clinked as it fell off of the gantry and into the bowels of the pumping substation far below. The smuggler could already hear water rushing throughout the hallways, washing away every last trace of tiamat's temples and the heavy narcotic paraphernalia. Hissing prosthetics propelled him up the sub-basement steps as filty water cascaded down the flight of stairs. The only thing missing from this situation was a wailing klaxon in the background, but this place had a pretty tight budget.
Praying to the generosity of an uncaring universe, Drake Oneir tapped in the calling signal for his trusty SkyBike, knowing for a fact that it was still located on Tier 3 of Coruscant. As he reach the ground floor, however, his beloved flying motorcycle burst through the stucco wall in an explosion of dust and mortar. Drake skidded to a halt on the flooded linoleum floors and launched himself into the darkened room where the high-tech ride was waiting. In the darkness though, as he was about to load his bare ass onto the whirring bike, he heard a sniffling and a shiverring off to his right. There, in the damp debris of the collapsing building, sat the dumbass little boy who had been beating up his sister.
The Nippur kid stared up at this tall, lanky, naked guy with robot legs and a missing arm, and his eyes went absolutely huge. Drake wordlessly plucked the pathetic little lad out of the dirt and threw him in the back seat in one fluid motion. See by this point, if you haven't picked up on the fact that Drake's single arm is fucking JACKED, you're stupid. Anyway, he vaulted into the pilot's seat of the SkyBike and sped off into the night, just as the rain was starting to come down.
Oh yeah. That was awful convenient. But we'll have to wrap this up later.
Drake liked the idea of claiming that he had burned down a water-treatment plant. That didn't solve his problems, though. Focus man!
There was really only one thing preventing him from just jumping out the nearest window and dashing off into the night. He glanced down at his nuts. Okay maybe a few things, but chief among them was the thought that he'd be living that sister's dumb kid brother vulnerable and potentially burned-alive in this place. Then again, he wasn't exactly a hero and didn't like the idea of sticking around bandit-town to rescue some kid. Decisions...decisions.
Okay, so the problem was that the building was on fire and the kid might be trapped inside. The aggravation to that problem was that the fire sprinklers weren't working, BUT, they were in a goddamn pumping substation. The entire building was full of water mains and sewage outflows that could put out some dumb old fire ten times over. Vito had mentioned that they'd rigged the entire place to ruin the plumbing infrastructure, but Drake himself had said that this kind of thing could be Prime-fixed in less than a day.
Clearly the solution here was to blow the place up MORE to put out the fire. Yes. That was the plan. Now I COULD write about how Drake managed to pull this off, with all of his cunning and nudity, but the reality of the situation is that Aaron's kids are waking up from their nap and he just wants this goddamn scene to end. So...we're just gonna skip ahead to the–
SKABOOSHH
Drake was thrown to the ground as he dashed out of the main circulation concourse. The force of the explosives shook the entire building, and forced him to loosen his grip on his trusty plasma weapon. The itsy bitsy gun clanked and clinked as it fell off of the gantry and into the bowels of the pumping substation far below. The smuggler could already hear water rushing throughout the hallways, washing away every last trace of tiamat's temples and the heavy narcotic paraphernalia. Hissing prosthetics propelled him up the sub-basement steps as filty water cascaded down the flight of stairs. The only thing missing from this situation was a wailing klaxon in the background, but this place had a pretty tight budget.
Praying to the generosity of an uncaring universe, Drake Oneir tapped in the calling signal for his trusty SkyBike, knowing for a fact that it was still located on Tier 3 of Coruscant. As he reach the ground floor, however, his beloved flying motorcycle burst through the stucco wall in an explosion of dust and mortar. Drake skidded to a halt on the flooded linoleum floors and launched himself into the darkened room where the high-tech ride was waiting. In the darkness though, as he was about to load his bare ass onto the whirring bike, he heard a sniffling and a shiverring off to his right. There, in the damp debris of the collapsing building, sat the dumbass little boy who had been beating up his sister.
The Nippur kid stared up at this tall, lanky, naked guy with robot legs and a missing arm, and his eyes went absolutely huge. Drake wordlessly plucked the pathetic little lad out of the dirt and threw him in the back seat in one fluid motion. See by this point, if you haven't picked up on the fact that Drake's single arm is fucking JACKED, you're stupid. Anyway, he vaulted into the pilot's seat of the SkyBike and sped off into the night, just as the rain was starting to come down.
Oh yeah. That was awful convenient. But we'll have to wrap this up later.
![[Image: screen_shot_2018_02_16_at_4_33_57_pm_by_...c3dkog.png]](https://orig00.deviantart.net/883e/f/2018/047/1/d/screen_shot_2018_02_16_at_4_33_57_pm_by_tearen_and_zearen-dc3dkog.png)