06-19-2017, 12:43 PM
Oh thank God. I’d take battling a couple of alien...things over wandering aimlessly on some island any day of the week. And in a Roman Colosseum? Hell. Yes.
My cerulean foe – Graw, or something? – and I froze at the insectoid man’s ploy, taking up defensive stances are we stood, surrounded and outnumbered. Luckily for me, the two of them seemed to be more intent on killing each other than me. I didn’t mind that per se, but being that my ankle was rigged to explode, I figured giving Syntech a show seemed wise.
“Hey, Gumby,” I called over to the stern-looking creature. Even her clothes looked to be composed more of clay than cloth. Weird. “You two have history, huh?”
A second or so passed before the blue woman realized I had addressed her. “Um...yes,” she replied, keeping an eye on the menacing duplicates encircling us. The two nearest her had taken to rude gestures, one licking at his beak creepily while flipping the bird, and the other alternating between crotch-chopping and wagging his gross bug-like rear at her.
“Well, why don’t you and I be friends?” I inquired, letting my submachine gun hang around my waist by the shoulder strap. “As an act of good will, I’ll teach you something.” I drew my pistol, taking careful aim at the Cell closest me. “Monte is all about slight of hand. Which means at least one of these is fake.” With that I fired a few quick shots, a smirk crossing my face as the trio of bullets banished the target. My gambit had paid off, at least for the moment.
“Oh!” Graw replied with childlike innocence. “That makes sense! They’re not moving, after all.” She lifted a hand and generated a ball of brilliant light between her stubby fingers before flinging it at one of the jeering duplicates on her end, which predictably vanished. “Thanks!”
Before I could reply, the remainder of the mirror-images vanished, leaving not a single Cell behind. Huh. Maybe I hadn’t been 100% correct, but a B+ wasn’t bad, right? I could ponder the thought for but a few seconds before a blue blur began to rapidly approach, its taffy-like arm stretching unnaturally and slamming a fist into my chiseled jaw, knocking me onto my ass. “Hey, I thought we were friends!” I exclaimed, spitting a glob of bloody saliva and getting to my feet. “Dick move. Do you always pummel your friends?”
Graw thought for a moment. “Sometimes?”
As the gummy gal charged once more, I was forced into a backward stumble. Though I stood at least a foot taller than her and she seemed to be built like an anorexia-addled tween, my jaw felt more like it had been thwacked by a baseball bat than a tiny fist. I let my pistol drop into the dirt and reached for my pocket as I ducked a second swing, tugging Woodhouse’s sawn-off free and firing a blast of buckshot at her midsection. Despite the hellish spray of burning agony, the assault seemed only to afford me a second of reprieve before she charged forward once more, quite undeterred. Another of her signature energy balls appeared in her tiny hand almost instantly, unleashed not a second later as I brought an arm up in a doomed attempt to block. I tumbled backward as it detonated, the acrid smell of burning wool meeting my nostrils as the blast burnt a hole through my turtleneck. Oh, and my skin. Also that.
As luck would have it, our third combatant chose this opportunity to emerge once more. The chitin-clad clod appeared from my periphery, just after a barrage of his own energy bolts knocked Graw a few meters away, flung like a rag doll. He immediately turned toward me, cackling as he dove upon my supine body and pinned my arms to the ground. “You look as delicciouss as a bowl of Palpatine Puffss,” he hissed, his tail swaying behind him like a cobra ready to strike. “Part of a balancced breakfasst.”
“Ugh, God you’re gross,” I grunted, struggling against his grip. “Keep that facehugger tail away from me.” In a desperate show of strength I rocked backward, quickly pulling my legs from beneath the bugman and into a crouch, kicking hard against his armored thorax.
“Fuck!” he exclaimed, only to twitch as electricity singed his shell. The momentary pause loosened his grip and gave me all the time I needed to reach back and grab the discarded juggling pin, bringing the ruined implement hard across his beaked mug. He tumbled backward, uttering a string of more PG cursewords.
I scrambled to my feet, heaving labored breaths. Adrenaline poured through my veins like liquid fire as I raised my club, roaring toward the heavens.
“ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?”
My cerulean foe – Graw, or something? – and I froze at the insectoid man’s ploy, taking up defensive stances are we stood, surrounded and outnumbered. Luckily for me, the two of them seemed to be more intent on killing each other than me. I didn’t mind that per se, but being that my ankle was rigged to explode, I figured giving Syntech a show seemed wise.
“Hey, Gumby,” I called over to the stern-looking creature. Even her clothes looked to be composed more of clay than cloth. Weird. “You two have history, huh?”
A second or so passed before the blue woman realized I had addressed her. “Um...yes,” she replied, keeping an eye on the menacing duplicates encircling us. The two nearest her had taken to rude gestures, one licking at his beak creepily while flipping the bird, and the other alternating between crotch-chopping and wagging his gross bug-like rear at her.
“Well, why don’t you and I be friends?” I inquired, letting my submachine gun hang around my waist by the shoulder strap. “As an act of good will, I’ll teach you something.” I drew my pistol, taking careful aim at the Cell closest me. “Monte is all about slight of hand. Which means at least one of these is fake.” With that I fired a few quick shots, a smirk crossing my face as the trio of bullets banished the target. My gambit had paid off, at least for the moment.
“Oh!” Graw replied with childlike innocence. “That makes sense! They’re not moving, after all.” She lifted a hand and generated a ball of brilliant light between her stubby fingers before flinging it at one of the jeering duplicates on her end, which predictably vanished. “Thanks!”
Before I could reply, the remainder of the mirror-images vanished, leaving not a single Cell behind. Huh. Maybe I hadn’t been 100% correct, but a B+ wasn’t bad, right? I could ponder the thought for but a few seconds before a blue blur began to rapidly approach, its taffy-like arm stretching unnaturally and slamming a fist into my chiseled jaw, knocking me onto my ass. “Hey, I thought we were friends!” I exclaimed, spitting a glob of bloody saliva and getting to my feet. “Dick move. Do you always pummel your friends?”
Graw thought for a moment. “Sometimes?”
As the gummy gal charged once more, I was forced into a backward stumble. Though I stood at least a foot taller than her and she seemed to be built like an anorexia-addled tween, my jaw felt more like it had been thwacked by a baseball bat than a tiny fist. I let my pistol drop into the dirt and reached for my pocket as I ducked a second swing, tugging Woodhouse’s sawn-off free and firing a blast of buckshot at her midsection. Despite the hellish spray of burning agony, the assault seemed only to afford me a second of reprieve before she charged forward once more, quite undeterred. Another of her signature energy balls appeared in her tiny hand almost instantly, unleashed not a second later as I brought an arm up in a doomed attempt to block. I tumbled backward as it detonated, the acrid smell of burning wool meeting my nostrils as the blast burnt a hole through my turtleneck. Oh, and my skin. Also that.
As luck would have it, our third combatant chose this opportunity to emerge once more. The chitin-clad clod appeared from my periphery, just after a barrage of his own energy bolts knocked Graw a few meters away, flung like a rag doll. He immediately turned toward me, cackling as he dove upon my supine body and pinned my arms to the ground. “You look as delicciouss as a bowl of Palpatine Puffss,” he hissed, his tail swaying behind him like a cobra ready to strike. “Part of a balancced breakfasst.”
“Ugh, God you’re gross,” I grunted, struggling against his grip. “Keep that facehugger tail away from me.” In a desperate show of strength I rocked backward, quickly pulling my legs from beneath the bugman and into a crouch, kicking hard against his armored thorax.
“Fuck!” he exclaimed, only to twitch as electricity singed his shell. The momentary pause loosened his grip and gave me all the time I needed to reach back and grab the discarded juggling pin, bringing the ruined implement hard across his beaked mug. He tumbled backward, uttering a string of more PG cursewords.
I scrambled to my feet, heaving labored breaths. Adrenaline poured through my veins like liquid fire as I raised my club, roaring toward the heavens.
“ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?”
Quote:800 words according to Wordcounter.net.
Archer used Walther PPK/S and Groawr used an energy blast to pop a couple of the after-images before the others timed out.
Graowr used a stretchy Malleability punch and drew some blood. Archer shotgunned her in the chest but then got his own explodey blast in the midsection, courtesy of a ki blast.
Cell appeared and used some ki blasts of his own, then threatened to drink Archer.
Archer claimed Gamzee's pin and gave Cell a good whack across the face.
![[Image: sterling-archer.jpg]](https://hollywoodhatesme.files.wordpress.com/2015/03/sterling-archer.jpg)