10-27-2015, 06:19 PM
Keep it cool, man. Cool. The opposite of freaked out. Calm. Collected. A full deck. Well-shuffled. Not missing any cards. Not even a single one.
The only positive in the entire blasted situation as of now was that he'd managed to stop bleeding. He was still in one piece. Hurt like a son of a bitch, but he was alive and, for the most part, well. Yeah, he was good. He'd gotten past the Jolly Green Not-so-Giant without any trouble, whether it had been luck or his own skill choosing a damned fine time to jump out and assert itself in the most violent way possible. It didn't really matter one way or the other. But that had been then, and this was now.
And Adam was soon to be short of a few teeth if he didn't stop grinding them against each other.
A giant walking chunk of steel and weapons. That was what he was up against this time. "You have got to be fucking kidding me." He could barely hear himself over the dull background rumble of the crowd. They were dying down in their cheers as the echo of the signal gong faded, waiting for the fights to get going in earnest. And even with that -- relatively speaking, of course -- low rumble the only real obstacle, Adam could barely hear himself. He was fairly certain his heart was about to beat its way out of his rib cage and scamper off to find shelter in some place more sane and safe. Like anywhere else but the middle of a fight with -- had he mentioned it yet? --a giant person with a lot of fucking weapons. All of which looked terrifying. Awesome. But terrifying.
This was stupid. It was dumb. It was fucking moronic.
"If I survive this...that troll is getting a boot straight to his painted fucking face..." Swallowing down the fountain of clown-related curses that threatened to spew forth on the tail end of THAT promising image, Adam forced himself to focus. Focus, dammit.
He was in a fight on a bunch of god damn floating platforms. Yeah, that was real nice. All kinds of weird shit. Over his head there were -- no his eyes were not sparkling with ill-contained joy -- a pair of TIE fighters, of all the things. And then there were weapons. Oh lord were there weapons. An armory that looked about as gnarly as the crap below the previously mentioned floating platforms smelled.
By the way: ass. Ass is what that shit smelled like. Desert-baked, sweaty ass. Yes, that was why he looked like he had a diaper shoved in his face.
"Okay..." Adam closed his eyes and took several deep breaths very quickly. "...time to get to work. Get this over with, with the quickness." He took one halting step forward, the clang of his crutch on the metallic construct the only sound to announce it as he lifted up and off, his intention to dart straight up and gain some altitude, and a good angle to take his first shot.
Only he just kind of...stopped a few feet up.
"You have got TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!" For the briefest of moments, Adam's indignation-fueled shriek rose above the drone of the crowd. "ONE THING AFTER ANOTHER! THIS SHIT IS RIDICULOUS!"
He was interrupted from his fit of rage by the ringing crash of metal tearing with a deafening crack. And then another. Craning his neck to cast his gaze earth-ward, he was greeted with what he could only describe as...really fucking big bullets, embedded in deep grooves torn in the platform.
Slowly his eyes crept back up to stare at the walking armory across the fragment of the arena, to see a weapon raised and aimed distinctly Adam-ward. The rage -- and the color, for that matter -- drained from Adam's face. "Did you come here to fight, or complain all day, boy?" came the voice of the tin can-clad weapon-man.
Adam didn't both wasting words to respond. Not because he didn't have anything to say -- oh, he did -- but because he knew it'd come out in a very undignified shriek. Rather, he just touched back down on the platform, dropping into a crouch. Trying to keep his arms from shaking, he brought his rifles's scope to his eye, and lined up an armor-clad cranium in his sights, even with ol' rusty on the move.
.....bang. Hiss.
The only positive in the entire blasted situation as of now was that he'd managed to stop bleeding. He was still in one piece. Hurt like a son of a bitch, but he was alive and, for the most part, well. Yeah, he was good. He'd gotten past the Jolly Green Not-so-Giant without any trouble, whether it had been luck or his own skill choosing a damned fine time to jump out and assert itself in the most violent way possible. It didn't really matter one way or the other. But that had been then, and this was now.
And Adam was soon to be short of a few teeth if he didn't stop grinding them against each other.
A giant walking chunk of steel and weapons. That was what he was up against this time. "You have got to be fucking kidding me." He could barely hear himself over the dull background rumble of the crowd. They were dying down in their cheers as the echo of the signal gong faded, waiting for the fights to get going in earnest. And even with that -- relatively speaking, of course -- low rumble the only real obstacle, Adam could barely hear himself. He was fairly certain his heart was about to beat its way out of his rib cage and scamper off to find shelter in some place more sane and safe. Like anywhere else but the middle of a fight with -- had he mentioned it yet? --a giant person with a lot of fucking weapons. All of which looked terrifying. Awesome. But terrifying.
This was stupid. It was dumb. It was fucking moronic.
"If I survive this...that troll is getting a boot straight to his painted fucking face..." Swallowing down the fountain of clown-related curses that threatened to spew forth on the tail end of THAT promising image, Adam forced himself to focus. Focus, dammit.
He was in a fight on a bunch of god damn floating platforms. Yeah, that was real nice. All kinds of weird shit. Over his head there were -- no his eyes were not sparkling with ill-contained joy -- a pair of TIE fighters, of all the things. And then there were weapons. Oh lord were there weapons. An armory that looked about as gnarly as the crap below the previously mentioned floating platforms smelled.
By the way: ass. Ass is what that shit smelled like. Desert-baked, sweaty ass. Yes, that was why he looked like he had a diaper shoved in his face.
"Okay..." Adam closed his eyes and took several deep breaths very quickly. "...time to get to work. Get this over with, with the quickness." He took one halting step forward, the clang of his crutch on the metallic construct the only sound to announce it as he lifted up and off, his intention to dart straight up and gain some altitude, and a good angle to take his first shot.
Only he just kind of...stopped a few feet up.
"You have got TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!" For the briefest of moments, Adam's indignation-fueled shriek rose above the drone of the crowd. "ONE THING AFTER ANOTHER! THIS SHIT IS RIDICULOUS!"
He was interrupted from his fit of rage by the ringing crash of metal tearing with a deafening crack. And then another. Craning his neck to cast his gaze earth-ward, he was greeted with what he could only describe as...really fucking big bullets, embedded in deep grooves torn in the platform.
Slowly his eyes crept back up to stare at the walking armory across the fragment of the arena, to see a weapon raised and aimed distinctly Adam-ward. The rage -- and the color, for that matter -- drained from Adam's face. "Did you come here to fight, or complain all day, boy?" came the voice of the tin can-clad weapon-man.
Adam didn't both wasting words to respond. Not because he didn't have anything to say -- oh, he did -- but because he knew it'd come out in a very undignified shriek. Rather, he just touched back down on the platform, dropping into a crouch. Trying to keep his arms from shaking, he brought his rifles's scope to his eye, and lined up an armor-clad cranium in his sights, even with ol' rusty on the move.
.....bang. Hiss.
Quote:750 words, 4118 characters according to wordcounter.net
![[Image: kUpgBYg.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/kUpgBYg.gif)