06-22-2017, 03:58 PM
Sergeant John Estes and Isaac Clark sat idling in the old Buick, parked along the sidewalk in front of an old ice-cream parlor. The burly officer had both his bear-sized paws gripping the steering wheel, and from the whites showing on his knuckles he was none too pleased.
Isaac’s mind was hard at work, thinking through all the infinite possibilities that had brought this sprawling metropolis to ruin and left it with only artificial servants to keep it in order. The electronic “brain” of one of those droids pulsed quietly within Isaac bag, but the steely look in his new friend’s eyes drew him from his burgeoning imagination.
“What's the matter Sleepy?” Isaac inquired.
“We’ve been spotted that's what,” Mad Bull muttered in annoyed frustration.
“What? How?” Isaac asked with surprise. “This city is so empty, how could that be?”
Mad Bull rubbed a meaty finger under his nose, bristling the hairs of his thick mustache. In a single gruff motion the lawman snapped the transmission into park, cut the ignition and opened the driver’s side door. The old car let out a metallic creak and moan as the weight on the suspension shifted. He stood atop the tarmac and took a moment to adjust the leather utility belt strapped to his waist. Isaac leaned through the cab of the car and asked again with growing unease.
“Where? Where are they?”
The sergeant unholstered his Smith & Wesson .38 revolver with one hand and fished out a fist full of rounds from his pocket. Methodically, perhaps even meditatively, he loaded each chamber of the six-shot cylinder. After finishing, he flicked the weapon together and shoved it back in its leather hipholster. He pointed a hairy finger to the sky, drawing a line to the rooftop of a nearby building.
“What is that?” Isaac began as he exited the car and stood alongside the lawman. He peered closely at the rooftop, then exclaimed. “It looks like two guys are standing up there!”
Mad Bull nodded, then reached into the Buick, withdrawing a Remington 870 police-issue shotgun. He placed the long-barrelled weapon under his arm and reached into the car again, this time withdrawing several grenade-like canisters marked in stenciled paint - TEAR GAS.
“The question is who…” the Sergeant replied, “… and why.”
Isaac’s mind was hard at work, thinking through all the infinite possibilities that had brought this sprawling metropolis to ruin and left it with only artificial servants to keep it in order. The electronic “brain” of one of those droids pulsed quietly within Isaac bag, but the steely look in his new friend’s eyes drew him from his burgeoning imagination.
“What's the matter Sleepy?” Isaac inquired.
“We’ve been spotted that's what,” Mad Bull muttered in annoyed frustration.
“What? How?” Isaac asked with surprise. “This city is so empty, how could that be?”
Mad Bull rubbed a meaty finger under his nose, bristling the hairs of his thick mustache. In a single gruff motion the lawman snapped the transmission into park, cut the ignition and opened the driver’s side door. The old car let out a metallic creak and moan as the weight on the suspension shifted. He stood atop the tarmac and took a moment to adjust the leather utility belt strapped to his waist. Isaac leaned through the cab of the car and asked again with growing unease.
“Where? Where are they?”
The sergeant unholstered his Smith & Wesson .38 revolver with one hand and fished out a fist full of rounds from his pocket. Methodically, perhaps even meditatively, he loaded each chamber of the six-shot cylinder. After finishing, he flicked the weapon together and shoved it back in its leather hipholster. He pointed a hairy finger to the sky, drawing a line to the rooftop of a nearby building.
“What is that?” Isaac began as he exited the car and stood alongside the lawman. He peered closely at the rooftop, then exclaimed. “It looks like two guys are standing up there!”
Mad Bull nodded, then reached into the Buick, withdrawing a Remington 870 police-issue shotgun. He placed the long-barrelled weapon under his arm and reached into the car again, this time withdrawing several grenade-like canisters marked in stenciled paint - TEAR GAS.
“The question is who…” the Sergeant replied, “… and why.”
Quote:Team Space Bull (Isaac + Mad Bull) are waiting for the item drop in C16. We're declaring our intention to fight for the item. Dante & Batman can retreat, place nicely and join us, or duke it out.