10-30-2017, 12:21 AM
One moment Dust was drinking early Grey tea - not a breakfast tea like he thought, but something with more of a bite than that - the next he was ducking behind an overturned table while the guy who was introduced as 'Frenchie' cursed - or at least Dust assumed it was cursing - in French while he provided firepower to the old man. This baffled the Contractor, until the suit of connected with him and he became something like out of a mecha anime. He tried asking what was going on, but between the gun fun and the smart-mouth of the French speaker that was hopeless. Honestly the one he imagined giving him any answers to what was happening around him was standing up against some kid with a sword.
Burst fire chased Wolf back behind the surprisingly sturdy table, one he imagined they reinforced for just this occasion. Beside him was the pretty, but young -look who's talking- woman that had introduced herself as Blair. Without any control, his thoughts turned quickly to his payment. Kissing a girl was preferable, if only because he's spent years not doing it. When he looked over to try to explain the simple fact that he needed a kiss to fight, she was gone once more. Another explosion sounded somewhere in the tower, he imagined the second team was here to either pin them down or do whatever it was these people were here to do.
Also without any control, his mind started flipping through his memories like flashcards in the hands of a quick study.
Dust felt his jaw crack under the pressure of the metal chair as it slammed into his head, the ringing of the metal resonated with the ringing in his head. Yes, he did feel the pain of fracture splitting his jaw in potential two, but did he feel the pain of being a 'bad dog'? His head lulled around, and his mind sloshed as if he'd drunk a whole bottle of sake, or worse - a bottle of vodka. His hair was just getting choppy and reached halfway down his ears. He looked up with cold and calculating eyes, blood running down one temple and sweat pouring down his almost naked body. He tried to say something despite the language barrier between his Japanese and their Russian, but the pain in his jaw as it tried to move told him and his inner calculator that it was best to remain silent. Giving up... His head slowly lowered, before finally snapping limply in a very 'give up' kind of way. Body language went beyond words, they let him sit there while his head throbbed for a few days.
-
"SW-808!" The Russian was harsh, and yet somehow familiar to his ears. They were just letters and numbers, but Dust knew he was being called on. His dull, lifeless, crimson eyes stared at the surrounding scenery while his inner calculator worked out the problems that would come up if he did not answer. Then he calculated the benefits for not answering. This calculator was in his mind, it did not have numbers so much as it has graphs, and they were really more like pro vs. con lists. Really it was more like a spreadsheet, but honestly, it was a lot like a menu. It was none of these things, and yet all of them. And none of it all meant anything because it was very much as instant as a thought. It was a thought. For a Contractor, it was just thinking. It took a long while for him to get used to just knowing how bad of an idea something was just by thinking about it.
He pulled his long arms off the railing and began to slowly approach the commanding officer.
That man, that unorganized sloppy man was so pissed off he'd taken an extra moment, that he slugged the taller creature as soon as he came in. Dust never figured out what he'd wanted originally.
-
"Kill him.." Dust's keeper demanded, lighting up a cigarette with a silver Zippo lighter he stole from the American.
"I have been forced to think that I should not." Dust said, trying to convey his thoughts in the limitedness of the language he only new pieces too. "It is not a good thought. It is not smart." The American, a blond-haired soldier no older than Dust could understand him, but not the bigger group. He stared into Dust's dead eyes and hoped for the man's mercy. "He is not scary, he is baby without strength to kick the womb."
The whole room began to laugh as if Dust made a joke. What was funnier than that, was the idea of a contractor of all things, making a joke. His keeper took a long drag off the smoke as he walked over to the bare-chested man, then with a hot end, he carefully pressed the cigarette into Dust's flesh. Dust pulled back, admitting it hurt before touching it with his hand. His keeper then repeated himself, with a darker and demanding tone. "Kill. Him."
The American understood that, but Ookami didn't understand the circumstances. "He is but a babe." Dust said, repeating himself, looking up. Confusion in his eyes.
His keeper just glared a whole into Lycan, until it bore into him just like the lit end of the cigarette. "FK-653. Kill." The keeper said, putting the filter back into his mouth. Hokori then watched as the horror-stricken American's blue eyes widen with fear as another contractor came into view. He pulled the gun out of his holster, aimed for the American's head - between the eyes - and squeezed the trigger confidently.
-
Volk pressed his body against the half existing wall of a building that his side had turned to rubble, all around him machine guns rattled across the air, gunpowder and blood seeped into his nose, the sound of citizens dying mercilessly flooded his senses... And yet he focused fully on his mission. The youngest - only really - Hoshi would not be distracted by his surroundings, he would not fear death, we weren't permitted to. Death was not a punishment, nor was it a saving grace. It was just a negative conclusion to his calculator. Internally he knew this was a bad idea, but his conditioning told him to ignore the superior risk. He was to find Ferdinand, kill him, and then fetch his research. He's been told it was a briefcase and that there were three people guarding him. Last time he failed to do as he'd been told because of the calculations, he'd been starved for a week and beaten every day. Best to follow orders...
Dust stepped into the battlefield, and a moment later a grenade was tossed his way.
The piercing sound of a tank's missiles left a high pitched buzz in his ears. It brought back the worse kind of memories... Even more so, the worse kind of thinking...
He skipped grabbing the sides of his head, knowing that wouldn't stop the annoying ringing. He counted himself lucky to even be able to hear at that moment and looked around. The Frenchman was pinned behind a half-existing wall, the woman was nowhere to be found, and the mecha-butler was on his back and fighting to keep some mythical shield out of the hands of the kid who'd been in an uproar earlier. He didn't know the significance of the silver, blue and red rounded shield but he became very aware that it should not be in the hands of the blade-wielding whelp. He had no earthly idea who this group was and why they were attacking the base of a group of people who seemed to be promising good things, but he knew how he could help.
He looked around, his payment always on his mind when making decisions like this one, but found that it would be riskier to jump one of his companions than it would be to react to the situation. Not only did it risk his safety and theirs, but risked his potential alliance with them. He shook his head, unable to hear his own thoughts over the ringing, but he didn't need to know this was a bad idea.
When it look like the guy in the.... - What was that? Red? Blue? Purple? The color-blind man couldn't tell you. - When he appeared to be ready to go in some typical bad guy monologue, Dust readied himself. Dark maroon coloring appeared from his fingers to his elbows in am ombre like effect, as if his skin changed color with different temperatures and it just got hot where he was, at the same time a large fluffy dark maroon colored tail appeared in mid anticipated wag. Wolf didn't seem to notice, even when the wolvern ears lifted from the nest of hair on his head, he gritted his elongated teeth, which fit like jagged puzzle pieces, and then with blinding speed he leaped into the air and over his hiding spot, at them.
A blur of dark brownish-red flashed beyond ther each of any gun, and a moment later Dust was on the apparent leader of the group: Zemo. Already Dust could feel the dragging of claws through his mind, his inner wolf seems to be stronger today than it has ever been, but he knew just how to sooth the inner beast. The hulking man landed upon the purple masked man and razor sharp claws slice through the simple fabric of the mask. One moment Hokori Hoshi was enjoying a cup of hot tea, ready to ask for help in finding Hoseki. The next he was locking lips with a man he didn't know in the least, and holding him there for 15 seconds.
In that time, the apparent flunkie of the two, Black Knight, turned around to see Zemo struggling against this unknown figure, which was hard to see past the swishing wolf tail.
Burst fire chased Wolf back behind the surprisingly sturdy table, one he imagined they reinforced for just this occasion. Beside him was the pretty, but young -look who's talking- woman that had introduced herself as Blair. Without any control, his thoughts turned quickly to his payment. Kissing a girl was preferable, if only because he's spent years not doing it. When he looked over to try to explain the simple fact that he needed a kiss to fight, she was gone once more. Another explosion sounded somewhere in the tower, he imagined the second team was here to either pin them down or do whatever it was these people were here to do.
Also without any control, his mind started flipping through his memories like flashcards in the hands of a quick study.
***
Dust felt his jaw crack under the pressure of the metal chair as it slammed into his head, the ringing of the metal resonated with the ringing in his head. Yes, he did feel the pain of fracture splitting his jaw in potential two, but did he feel the pain of being a 'bad dog'? His head lulled around, and his mind sloshed as if he'd drunk a whole bottle of sake, or worse - a bottle of vodka. His hair was just getting choppy and reached halfway down his ears. He looked up with cold and calculating eyes, blood running down one temple and sweat pouring down his almost naked body. He tried to say something despite the language barrier between his Japanese and their Russian, but the pain in his jaw as it tried to move told him and his inner calculator that it was best to remain silent. Giving up... His head slowly lowered, before finally snapping limply in a very 'give up' kind of way. Body language went beyond words, they let him sit there while his head throbbed for a few days.
-
"SW-808!" The Russian was harsh, and yet somehow familiar to his ears. They were just letters and numbers, but Dust knew he was being called on. His dull, lifeless, crimson eyes stared at the surrounding scenery while his inner calculator worked out the problems that would come up if he did not answer. Then he calculated the benefits for not answering. This calculator was in his mind, it did not have numbers so much as it has graphs, and they were really more like pro vs. con lists. Really it was more like a spreadsheet, but honestly, it was a lot like a menu. It was none of these things, and yet all of them. And none of it all meant anything because it was very much as instant as a thought. It was a thought. For a Contractor, it was just thinking. It took a long while for him to get used to just knowing how bad of an idea something was just by thinking about it.
He pulled his long arms off the railing and began to slowly approach the commanding officer.
That man, that unorganized sloppy man was so pissed off he'd taken an extra moment, that he slugged the taller creature as soon as he came in. Dust never figured out what he'd wanted originally.
-
"Kill him.." Dust's keeper demanded, lighting up a cigarette with a silver Zippo lighter he stole from the American.
"I have been forced to think that I should not." Dust said, trying to convey his thoughts in the limitedness of the language he only new pieces too. "It is not a good thought. It is not smart." The American, a blond-haired soldier no older than Dust could understand him, but not the bigger group. He stared into Dust's dead eyes and hoped for the man's mercy. "He is not scary, he is baby without strength to kick the womb."
The whole room began to laugh as if Dust made a joke. What was funnier than that, was the idea of a contractor of all things, making a joke. His keeper took a long drag off the smoke as he walked over to the bare-chested man, then with a hot end, he carefully pressed the cigarette into Dust's flesh. Dust pulled back, admitting it hurt before touching it with his hand. His keeper then repeated himself, with a darker and demanding tone. "Kill. Him."
The American understood that, but Ookami didn't understand the circumstances. "He is but a babe." Dust said, repeating himself, looking up. Confusion in his eyes.
His keeper just glared a whole into Lycan, until it bore into him just like the lit end of the cigarette. "FK-653. Kill." The keeper said, putting the filter back into his mouth. Hokori then watched as the horror-stricken American's blue eyes widen with fear as another contractor came into view. He pulled the gun out of his holster, aimed for the American's head - between the eyes - and squeezed the trigger confidently.
-
Volk pressed his body against the half existing wall of a building that his side had turned to rubble, all around him machine guns rattled across the air, gunpowder and blood seeped into his nose, the sound of citizens dying mercilessly flooded his senses... And yet he focused fully on his mission. The youngest - only really - Hoshi would not be distracted by his surroundings, he would not fear death, we weren't permitted to. Death was not a punishment, nor was it a saving grace. It was just a negative conclusion to his calculator. Internally he knew this was a bad idea, but his conditioning told him to ignore the superior risk. He was to find Ferdinand, kill him, and then fetch his research. He's been told it was a briefcase and that there were three people guarding him. Last time he failed to do as he'd been told because of the calculations, he'd been starved for a week and beaten every day. Best to follow orders...
Dust stepped into the battlefield, and a moment later a grenade was tossed his way.
***
The piercing sound of a tank's missiles left a high pitched buzz in his ears. It brought back the worse kind of memories... Even more so, the worse kind of thinking...
He skipped grabbing the sides of his head, knowing that wouldn't stop the annoying ringing. He counted himself lucky to even be able to hear at that moment and looked around. The Frenchman was pinned behind a half-existing wall, the woman was nowhere to be found, and the mecha-butler was on his back and fighting to keep some mythical shield out of the hands of the kid who'd been in an uproar earlier. He didn't know the significance of the silver, blue and red rounded shield but he became very aware that it should not be in the hands of the blade-wielding whelp. He had no earthly idea who this group was and why they were attacking the base of a group of people who seemed to be promising good things, but he knew how he could help.
He looked around, his payment always on his mind when making decisions like this one, but found that it would be riskier to jump one of his companions than it would be to react to the situation. Not only did it risk his safety and theirs, but risked his potential alliance with them. He shook his head, unable to hear his own thoughts over the ringing, but he didn't need to know this was a bad idea.
When it look like the guy in the.... - What was that? Red? Blue? Purple? The color-blind man couldn't tell you. - When he appeared to be ready to go in some typical bad guy monologue, Dust readied himself. Dark maroon coloring appeared from his fingers to his elbows in am ombre like effect, as if his skin changed color with different temperatures and it just got hot where he was, at the same time a large fluffy dark maroon colored tail appeared in mid anticipated wag. Wolf didn't seem to notice, even when the wolvern ears lifted from the nest of hair on his head, he gritted his elongated teeth, which fit like jagged puzzle pieces, and then with blinding speed he leaped into the air and over his hiding spot, at them.
Quote:SP Used: 1 of 4(In case it matters)
Tier 1 Power-Up: Puppy
A pair of wolf ears lift from the layers of Dust's messy hair, and a tail springs to existence in the appropriate place. From fingertip to elbows, and toes to knees, the skin turns dark maroon.
(For the duration: A Pup's Bite/Claw and Wolf's Tail are 'active'. As in, he has claws, sharp teeth, and a tail to utilize. He has to pay the costs for each use)
-The cost for this is a simple kiss that lasts 9 seconds at least. (Can be done before, during, or after fight)
ATK: 4
DEF: 4
SPD: 3
TEC: 4
A blur of dark brownish-red flashed beyond ther each of any gun, and a moment later Dust was on the apparent leader of the group: Zemo. Already Dust could feel the dragging of claws through his mind, his inner wolf seems to be stronger today than it has ever been, but he knew just how to sooth the inner beast. The hulking man landed upon the purple masked man and razor sharp claws slice through the simple fabric of the mask. One moment Hokori Hoshi was enjoying a cup of hot tea, ready to ask for help in finding Hoseki. The next he was locking lips with a man he didn't know in the least, and holding him there for 15 seconds.
Quote:Over-Powering Kiss
Requires: Physical Strength, Burst Movement, Survival - And the permission of the writer, but not necessarily the characters.
Dust cannot complete his payment without some force, using his strength and sometimes his speed to trap his target by tackling and/or pinning them down, to initiate a kiss lasting between 3 and 30 seconds with the person.
This leaves him vulnerable for the duration of the kiss to any outside force - including any ability the targeted creature can use while pinned and under someone - but effectively binds the person under his body.
The person under him gains full cover from attacks made by anyone else in the area, as Dust purposely makes himself a shield to the target he is kissing.
After the duration of the kiss, if he survives, he can use any combination of his other moves as long as it equals out in seconds. (For example, Pup's Bite and Pup's Claw both use a 3-second kiss, and require at least a 6-second kiss to use both once; 9 seconds will let him use one 3 times, or a combination of the two moves three times.)
Added bonus: He's not that bad of a looker.
In that time, the apparent flunkie of the two, Black Knight, turned around to see Zemo struggling against this unknown figure, which was hard to see past the swishing wolf tail.
![[Image: k7o36mrvhfvz.gif]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/373954940726673408/375611812068065307/k7o36mrvhfvz.gif)
"Centurion: I'll leave you to your work then Dust. Thanks for chatting!
Me: no problem. stay awesome!
Centurion: It's more of a passive ability"