02-09-2016, 04:51 AM
Come on. Really? Two fights, in that short of a time? He didn't want to have pulled that weapon, but he wouldn't have just stood by while they mauled him, either. But he'd gotten double-teamed, and sent packing, with a splitting headache to boot. All of that really just made for a bad introduction to the island. He wasn't in flooding range, luckily, though. So that was great. He'd taken a large beating. Not so great. He made sure those damned ninjas were gone, before slowly sitting up, and going the opposite way.
He needed food. So he resorted to hunting with the knife. He got a decent meal out of it, too. Cow was good when cooked right. While he wasn't quite a Boy Scout, he knew how to light some good fires, if that was good for anything. A few quick glances around determined that no-one was nearby, so he sat down, and took a minute off. The weariness in his bones had set in, and the shortness in his breath had become difficult to work through. He could tell, he was badly hurt. One check on his goggles proved that. Busted ribs. Not broken, but one was poking a lung a bit. Screw up, and he was almost as good as dead.
Well, if he was completely human, that is. No matter, it still hurt like a devil's kiss. With a small sigh, he pulled out his slightly bloodstained knife. If he was to survive, he'd need a better weapon. This butterfly knife couldn't protect him from crossbows. Damn it all. Things weren't really in his favor. Which sucked, because how exactly was he supposed to survive if he was so overpowered repeatedly? This hurt his head worse than the impact. But this struck an idea in his head. What if he found a team to work with? Maybe then he wouldn't die so easy.
So it was settled. His strategy would be to hunt down any kindred spirits, people who weren't inclined to kill on sight. Then maybe, just maybe, he could escape this hellhole, and go meet up with Gnostic. He stood, the determination reignited in his eyes, and he set off. Er, he tried, rather. Really, he just took a few steps, then sat down again. Maybe moving so fast wasn't such a good idea after all.
He needed food. So he resorted to hunting with the knife. He got a decent meal out of it, too. Cow was good when cooked right. While he wasn't quite a Boy Scout, he knew how to light some good fires, if that was good for anything. A few quick glances around determined that no-one was nearby, so he sat down, and took a minute off. The weariness in his bones had set in, and the shortness in his breath had become difficult to work through. He could tell, he was badly hurt. One check on his goggles proved that. Busted ribs. Not broken, but one was poking a lung a bit. Screw up, and he was almost as good as dead.
Well, if he was completely human, that is. No matter, it still hurt like a devil's kiss. With a small sigh, he pulled out his slightly bloodstained knife. If he was to survive, he'd need a better weapon. This butterfly knife couldn't protect him from crossbows. Damn it all. Things weren't really in his favor. Which sucked, because how exactly was he supposed to survive if he was so overpowered repeatedly? This hurt his head worse than the impact. But this struck an idea in his head. What if he found a team to work with? Maybe then he wouldn't die so easy.
So it was settled. His strategy would be to hunt down any kindred spirits, people who weren't inclined to kill on sight. Then maybe, just maybe, he could escape this hellhole, and go meet up with Gnostic. He stood, the determination reignited in his eyes, and he set off. Er, he tried, rather. Really, he just took a few steps, then sat down again. Maybe moving so fast wasn't such a good idea after all.