06-20-2017, 03:38 PM
“So,” I began, breathing hard as I faced off against my bizarre adversaries in a cosmic Mexican standoff. I glanced at Graw, “Stretchy arms, death ray,” then to Cell, “mirages, and spikey siphon tail. And both of you have magic spirit explosives. Or whatever.” I sighed. “And here I thought guns would give me an advantage.” I flipped open the breech of my shotty and emptied the spent casings before replacing them with a pair of fresh shells from my knee pocket. “That’s usually how these things go.”
“Yess, well, I thought that hiding from you two sshmuckss wass a good idea,” Cell sneered, the words ‘Bachelor Chow; Now With Flavor!’ flashing on his chestplate. “Neither of our planss have worked.”
“Well,” I said, pocketing my sawed-off and crossing my arms over my chest. “Plan B, then.” Before either clayface or the overgrown roach could hope to reply, I had taken up the submachine gun dangling around my waist, sprinting toward Cell and spraying a salvo of lead wildly at the two of them like a drunken Rambo. The comparison that was not entirely inaccurate. “SUPPRESSING FIRE!”
I ignored Graw for the moment, racing full-tilt toward the beaked bastard, milking the scant spare seconds that my spray-and-pray method had afforded me to close the gap. Before I could get far, the insectoid’s fists began to emit a ghoulish glow. He quickly brought them up in a blocking stance, knocking away the barrage in a poor approximation of Wonder Woman. “Aw, come on!” I cried as my magazines ran dry. “That’s such bullshit!”
A raspy cackle came as Cell’s response, twin orbs flickering to life in his palms. “Come and get me, Bourne Inadequacy!”
Before I could effectively apply fist to freakish face, the rubbery blue arm of a certain neglected wintergreen warrior shot past me, slamming straight into Cell’s soon-to-be-flatter visage. I could revel in his throes of pain for only half an instant as the appendage immediately hooked backward, coiling itself around my neck.
“Hah!” the stretchy lass whooped as Cell doubled over in pain. “Right in the schnoz! And I got shooty-bullet-man. A two-fer!”
I grimaced as my vision began to blur, choking as Graw’s grip tightened around my throat. Not exactly the best position to be in, admittedly. This time, however, I wouldn’t fall for the same trick. I reached over my shoulder and grabbed tightly onto the ensnaring appendage. “Not...this time...you...bubblegum bitch!”
As she began to reel-in her taffy tentacle, I dropped my stance, digging my fingers into her resilient flesh and straining against her grip. Despite my body’s protest I lurched ahead, pulling the putty-like arm tight against my shoulder as tears streamed from my eyes. A nigh-imperceptible release in tension and a sudden ‘oh!' queued my response as I turned on my heel and drove forward and downward onto one knee with the last of my strength. Seconds later, Graw’s lithe form sailed over my head and across the amphitheater. Ancient iron bars snapped like twigs as she crashed through the Colosseum gate, noodly appendage slipping away with her. “Okay,” I wheezed, drawing rapid breaths. “That should keep you occupied.”
“Almosst forgot your pressent...”
I spun on the spot, quickdrawing the pistol from my shoulder harness and pulling the trigger as Cell neared. “God dammit,” I spat as the hammer clicking uselessly against nothingness. I scrambled to drop the magazine and pull a replacement from my pocket, though I instead found myself airborne as a beach ball sized orb of spirit-bullshit-energy detonated against my chest. I tumbled clumsily along the dirt floor of the arena, coming to a stop against the stone wall. Blood dribbled fresh from my chest wounds, adhering my sweater to the skin in the most disgusting way possible.
“Mr. Archer,” Cell began, stalking toward me with glee in his pinkish eyes. “You perssisst in defying my effortss to provide an amussing death for you.”
“I actually have some thoughts on that,” I retorted defiantly, awkwardly tugging the sawed-off from my pocket. My back was –literally- against the wall, but I’d be damned if I went down so early to a walking billboard-bug. I pulled back the hammer, taking aim at the roach’s chest.
“Yeah, no,” the insectoid muttered, effortlessly flinging a searing orb of bullshit at the firearm. The blast, though small, shook the gun from my grasp. “Not this time.”
A pause.
“Uh oh,” I muttered, bringing my arms up reflexively. It wouldn’t be doing me much good, though it was better than nothing.
“’Uh oh’ iss right, you wannabe Ethan Hunt!” Cell jeered, cocking back his fist. “Wait.” He paused, noting the change in my expression. “...Sshe’ss behind me, issn’t sshe?”
“Uh huh.”
“Aw, heck,” the roach pseudo-cursed as a volley of energy shots screamed toward us.
“Yess, well, I thought that hiding from you two sshmuckss wass a good idea,” Cell sneered, the words ‘Bachelor Chow; Now With Flavor!’ flashing on his chestplate. “Neither of our planss have worked.”
“Well,” I said, pocketing my sawed-off and crossing my arms over my chest. “Plan B, then.” Before either clayface or the overgrown roach could hope to reply, I had taken up the submachine gun dangling around my waist, sprinting toward Cell and spraying a salvo of lead wildly at the two of them like a drunken Rambo. The comparison that was not entirely inaccurate. “SUPPRESSING FIRE!”
I ignored Graw for the moment, racing full-tilt toward the beaked bastard, milking the scant spare seconds that my spray-and-pray method had afforded me to close the gap. Before I could get far, the insectoid’s fists began to emit a ghoulish glow. He quickly brought them up in a blocking stance, knocking away the barrage in a poor approximation of Wonder Woman. “Aw, come on!” I cried as my magazines ran dry. “That’s such bullshit!”
A raspy cackle came as Cell’s response, twin orbs flickering to life in his palms. “Come and get me, Bourne Inadequacy!”
Before I could effectively apply fist to freakish face, the rubbery blue arm of a certain neglected wintergreen warrior shot past me, slamming straight into Cell’s soon-to-be-flatter visage. I could revel in his throes of pain for only half an instant as the appendage immediately hooked backward, coiling itself around my neck.
“Hah!” the stretchy lass whooped as Cell doubled over in pain. “Right in the schnoz! And I got shooty-bullet-man. A two-fer!”
I grimaced as my vision began to blur, choking as Graw’s grip tightened around my throat. Not exactly the best position to be in, admittedly. This time, however, I wouldn’t fall for the same trick. I reached over my shoulder and grabbed tightly onto the ensnaring appendage. “Not...this time...you...bubblegum bitch!”
As she began to reel-in her taffy tentacle, I dropped my stance, digging my fingers into her resilient flesh and straining against her grip. Despite my body’s protest I lurched ahead, pulling the putty-like arm tight against my shoulder as tears streamed from my eyes. A nigh-imperceptible release in tension and a sudden ‘oh!' queued my response as I turned on my heel and drove forward and downward onto one knee with the last of my strength. Seconds later, Graw’s lithe form sailed over my head and across the amphitheater. Ancient iron bars snapped like twigs as she crashed through the Colosseum gate, noodly appendage slipping away with her. “Okay,” I wheezed, drawing rapid breaths. “That should keep you occupied.”
“Almosst forgot your pressent...”
I spun on the spot, quickdrawing the pistol from my shoulder harness and pulling the trigger as Cell neared. “God dammit,” I spat as the hammer clicking uselessly against nothingness. I scrambled to drop the magazine and pull a replacement from my pocket, though I instead found myself airborne as a beach ball sized orb of spirit-bullshit-energy detonated against my chest. I tumbled clumsily along the dirt floor of the arena, coming to a stop against the stone wall. Blood dribbled fresh from my chest wounds, adhering my sweater to the skin in the most disgusting way possible.
“Mr. Archer,” Cell began, stalking toward me with glee in his pinkish eyes. “You perssisst in defying my effortss to provide an amussing death for you.”
“I actually have some thoughts on that,” I retorted defiantly, awkwardly tugging the sawed-off from my pocket. My back was –literally- against the wall, but I’d be damned if I went down so early to a walking billboard-bug. I pulled back the hammer, taking aim at the roach’s chest.
“Yeah, no,” the insectoid muttered, effortlessly flinging a searing orb of bullshit at the firearm. The blast, though small, shook the gun from my grasp. “Not this time.”
A pause.
“Uh oh,” I muttered, bringing my arms up reflexively. It wouldn’t be doing me much good, though it was better than nothing.
“’Uh oh’ iss right, you wannabe Ethan Hunt!” Cell jeered, cocking back his fist. “Wait.” He paused, noting the change in my expression. “...Sshe’ss behind me, issn’t sshe?”
“Uh huh.”
“Aw, heck,” the roach pseudo-cursed as a volley of energy shots screamed toward us.
Quote:799 words, according to Wordcounter.net
Archer talked some shit and then machinegunned to distract.
Cell used Deflection to avoid being swiss-cheesed, then tried to use a Ki Blast.
Graowr socked Cell in the face and then tried to strangle/throw Archer.
Archer threw her off, at the cost of near-asphyxia.
Cell hit Archer with a Ki Blast and then a smaller Ki Blast.
Archer attempted to shotgun, but it failed.
Graowr threw a volley of Energy Shots to wrap it up.
Also, as a general note in case anyone thinks I'm an idiot. Archer's not a good listener, so he calls Graowr 'Graw'. Also, I know majin are magical constructs and Cell is a bio-android, but to Archer they just look like aliens.
![[Image: sterling-archer.jpg]](https://hollywoodhatesme.files.wordpress.com/2015/03/sterling-archer.jpg)