04-07-2016, 07:52 PM
The battered behemoth's vision flared in one brilliant white flash as Somerled's doppleganger exploded with the intensity of a solar flare. Too late Grundy raised a hand to shield his face from the blast, an ultimately futile gesture as the wet, chunky swamp matter that served as his skin had mostly peeled from his face, leaving a yellowed and cracked death's head that glowed with yellow eye sockets. He was violently pushed backwards, stumbling closer to the safety fence that ringed the edge of the building's rooftop. He regained his balance, clouded vision scanning the battleground for that hint of green, and he saw it. Crouched behind a bank of very expensive concrete planters, filled with lush ferns.
The Doomguy looked almost as beaten as the rest of them, although he was still sending bullets, curses, and grenades with annoying efficiency. Laughing, LAUGHING, in the face of his tired and haggard foes, the thrill of triumph as he was literally right next to his goal. Ducking behind the planter, Solomon saw the green marine yell into his right arm, and a few seconds later heard the -fwupfwupfwupfwupfwup- sound of a helicopter rising behind him. And a voice, echoing through a megaphone.
"YOU! YES, YOU! STAND STILL, ZOMBIE!"
The sleek black metal of the combat helicopter positively shone in the light of the sun and the glowing energies of the portal containment system. It lazily floated over the battlefield, spraying Grundy with volleys of .50 caliber bullets as the marine's backup drifted towards him. Ripped chunks of flesh, tattered cloth, and what remained of the zombie's natty shirt fell off him, the golem oozing green sap everywhere as he felt his frame sloughing off from the sustained damage.
He dove behind another one of those convieniently placed planters, and peered hard at his compatriots and coworkers.
The grey man with the white hair was slumped over, either dead, knocked out, or taking a breather. Tartaros's armor was cracked, dented, and his helmet glass was shattered, revealing the weary face within. Still, the Space Marine shot round after round of ammo towards the intruder as he affixed several small packages to the portal's containment field. The realization of failure was in the air as the Doomguy combat rolled out of cover, weaving between different fences and ornamentals on the rooftop, heading towards the landing pad and covering his escape with more rapid pistol fire.
Grundy saw his last remaining chance to, if not stop the marine, ensure that he did not escape with his triumph and would find his victory a pyrrhic one. Slowly at first, but gaining in speed, the giant white monster ran out to intercept the green marine, lumbering towards him in a half limping gait. Looking backwards, Taggart swore, inaudibly over the rotors of the helicopter, and motioned at the whirlybird. More high caliber rounds shot through the zombie's body, but it didn't slow him. As he reached the marine, he swung wildly at him, smashing the ground and the air, all the while inhaling deeply and tensing his muscles. Finally, as Doomguy narrowly escaped another one of his wild swings, Grundy exhaled a nasty green mist. His mouth spat choking, acrid vapor, and all the wounds on his body sprayed it out into a thick, cloying aura. The marine was overwhelmed with the thick fog, and Grundy took a step back, his head spinning from the exertion, feeling his body more numb than usual.
Above them, the helicopter floated to and fro, trying desperately to find a spot to land and save their agent.
Ha.
"Go, go, go, goddamnit! Get him out of there!" "Sarge, We can't land, the zone's too ho- JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!"
A pale, corpselike figure sailed up past the helicopter, grinning skull an omen for the fate of the crew inside as Grundy grabbed the tail of the machine with a fist that was half bone. Bullets ripped through his dead flesh once more as he pulled the whirly bird out of the sky and began his descent towards the rooftop, where the Doomguy was still choking. "GREEN MAN WANT HELICOPTER? HERE...GRUNDY GIVE YOU!"
The screams of the crew mixed with Grundy's bestial yell as they dropped through the air like a stone. Huge, dead fists dented and rent the machine's armor as the undead freak pummeled it downwards with the last bits of his monstrous strength.
"SOLOMON GRUNDY....BURIED! ON! SUNDAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYY!!!!!"
The Doomguy looked almost as beaten as the rest of them, although he was still sending bullets, curses, and grenades with annoying efficiency. Laughing, LAUGHING, in the face of his tired and haggard foes, the thrill of triumph as he was literally right next to his goal. Ducking behind the planter, Solomon saw the green marine yell into his right arm, and a few seconds later heard the -fwupfwupfwupfwupfwup- sound of a helicopter rising behind him. And a voice, echoing through a megaphone.
"YOU! YES, YOU! STAND STILL, ZOMBIE!"
The sleek black metal of the combat helicopter positively shone in the light of the sun and the glowing energies of the portal containment system. It lazily floated over the battlefield, spraying Grundy with volleys of .50 caliber bullets as the marine's backup drifted towards him. Ripped chunks of flesh, tattered cloth, and what remained of the zombie's natty shirt fell off him, the golem oozing green sap everywhere as he felt his frame sloughing off from the sustained damage.
He dove behind another one of those convieniently placed planters, and peered hard at his compatriots and coworkers.
The grey man with the white hair was slumped over, either dead, knocked out, or taking a breather. Tartaros's armor was cracked, dented, and his helmet glass was shattered, revealing the weary face within. Still, the Space Marine shot round after round of ammo towards the intruder as he affixed several small packages to the portal's containment field. The realization of failure was in the air as the Doomguy combat rolled out of cover, weaving between different fences and ornamentals on the rooftop, heading towards the landing pad and covering his escape with more rapid pistol fire.
Grundy saw his last remaining chance to, if not stop the marine, ensure that he did not escape with his triumph and would find his victory a pyrrhic one. Slowly at first, but gaining in speed, the giant white monster ran out to intercept the green marine, lumbering towards him in a half limping gait. Looking backwards, Taggart swore, inaudibly over the rotors of the helicopter, and motioned at the whirlybird. More high caliber rounds shot through the zombie's body, but it didn't slow him. As he reached the marine, he swung wildly at him, smashing the ground and the air, all the while inhaling deeply and tensing his muscles. Finally, as Doomguy narrowly escaped another one of his wild swings, Grundy exhaled a nasty green mist. His mouth spat choking, acrid vapor, and all the wounds on his body sprayed it out into a thick, cloying aura. The marine was overwhelmed with the thick fog, and Grundy took a step back, his head spinning from the exertion, feeling his body more numb than usual.
Above them, the helicopter floated to and fro, trying desperately to find a spot to land and save their agent.
Ha.
"Go, go, go, goddamnit! Get him out of there!" "Sarge, We can't land, the zone's too ho- JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!"
A pale, corpselike figure sailed up past the helicopter, grinning skull an omen for the fate of the crew inside as Grundy grabbed the tail of the machine with a fist that was half bone. Bullets ripped through his dead flesh once more as he pulled the whirly bird out of the sky and began his descent towards the rooftop, where the Doomguy was still choking. "GREEN MAN WANT HELICOPTER? HERE...GRUNDY GIVE YOU!"
The screams of the crew mixed with Grundy's bestial yell as they dropped through the air like a stone. Huge, dead fists dented and rent the machine's armor as the undead freak pummeled it downwards with the last bits of his monstrous strength.
"SOLOMON GRUNDY....BURIED! ON! SUNDAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYY!!!!!"
Quote:738 Words according to Wordcounter.
Doomguy used Pistol, Grenade.
Grundy used Grave Rot, and Tier 1 Super: Buried on Sunday 1 SP, 0/1 Remaining.
Portal is rigged to blow, and there is a helicopter about to crash onto most of the rooftop, with a nearly dead Grundy accelerating it. With punches.
“I don’t wanna be a product of my environment. I want my environment to be a product of me.”