| Biological Warfare; Genetic modification at it's apex. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Dec 3 2007, 02:04 PM (1,777 Views) | |
 Dude2000
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Dec 3 2007, 07:09 PM Post #16 |
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Rafar sat in a meeting, barely paying attention at all. At his age, he began to care les and less about the politics of war and more about the mission. He wouldn't listen until he heard his name. But wait, there it is... "Rafar!" An officer barked at him, "You'll be leading Max and Skye on a guerrila mission to assassinate the Gifted General Bush. Our main attack should keep his awareness in the tactical realm. Your entry point is here, through the maintence duct. You'll crawl and drop into his quarters. From there, the tactical bridge is a handful of meters south. Understood?" Rafar looked at the young officer, examining him from foot to head. "...of course." Rafar grumbled clearly, but menacingly. "I finally get a chance to destroy the man that brought me so much pain. I will end his life slowly, no matter what my comrades want. He shall pay for the blood of our men." Rafar thought. He left the room with his comrades on his left and right. |
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To be, or not to be: that is the question. To die, to sleep; no more; and by a sleep to say we end. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub. For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil must give us pause. That makes calamity of so long life, for who would bear the whips and scorns of time when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death, the undiscover'd country from whose bourn no traveller returns, puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all... | |
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| mossad | Dec 3 2007, 07:11 PM Post #17 |
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Walking up behind Chris, Alaric poked him and asked, "What are you two doing here? You're gifteds." |
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| Malceure | Dec 3 2007, 07:13 PM Post #18 |
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Name: Satori Akishino Age: 15 Alliance: Corrupted Power Level: 2 Appearance:  Bio: Being born in one of the most wealthy families of the Corruption Alliance, Satori decided to fight rather than to face the boring life of an aristocrat. Despite being known as the "pretty boy" of the Corrupted, Satori has been found as a prodigy, his control of the fire arts unmatched by his peers. Because of his elegant appearance, he is often sent as a representative and interrigator of the Corrupted, his kind words and gentle voice beguiling his foes into releasing information. Yet, there is a well known rumor floating around the alliance that suggests that Satori also fancies the torturing of his victums who are unfortunate enough to "try out" his newest trap. Satori is, at the moment, with a prisioner, interrigating him on the whereabouts of the Gifted's base. Satori: "Simply tell me where the base is, and I will free you from your misery." Satori had tied the victum onto a metal crucifix, which was edging towards the wall. There was a multitude of small slots throughout the crucifix, and on the wall where dozens upon dozens of small, highly sharpened, spikes. The victum was already starting to feel the spikes slowly slice into his flesh. Only the head and neck where not sharing the same fate, allowing for the victum to speak while he still could. Victum: "I... I don't know... I.... AAAAAAH!" The spikes where embeddoned even farther into his skin. His face was a mess of pain, blood, and tears. Satori: "Really? That is a shame. I suppose I no longer need you anymore." Satori smiled, as if he were a child in a candy store, while he waved salutations to the victum. "Bye bye." Satori pressed a button on the device he was holding in his hand, and in seconds the crucifix had slammed onto the wall, the victum's body spuing blood everwhere in the air. Satori, luckily enough, had been behind a plexi-glass wall, which was supposed to be used to make sure the one being interrigated would, ironically enough, not hurt Satori. Satori: "that was not bad at all. Though, I suppose I should increase the number of spikes I use next time. I think it would be more fun that way." He laughed sadistically, his mind filling with new plans of torture. |
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| Wolf | Dec 3 2007, 07:20 PM Post #19 |
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Eon: Let go you hack! *Eon kicked Chris in the back sending him stumbling forward, and hopped back on his own two feet, feeling disgusted at how he was being treated, even if he never met the person before in his life. |
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| Card Hero | Dec 3 2007, 07:25 PM Post #20 |
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"Sorry..." As Chris got up, he picked up eon again. "now, which way was your base... oh yeah. i have to talk to your leader, it's important, and i'll give you candy if you take me." |
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[nor_cash=0,0]BACK TO THE ADVENTURE! My forum, land of heroes. Desperate for people. | |
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Dude2000
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Dec 3 2007, 07:25 PM Post #21 |
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Rafar heard a scream as he passed the brig. "Hmm...someone isn't being co-operative. Sounds like he's recieving just punishment." Rafar arrived at the lift with his comrades still at his wings, discussing things amongst themselves. "No way! There's no way that the Gifted are that strong! We could wipe them out in a single blow if The One wished it." The male, Max, objected to an earlier unknown statment. "Hah, you wish. The One has no idea anymore what's going on. Nor do his children or advisors. Warlord Sinx is the true leader of our men." The female, Skye, replied. "She looks like a whore. Her skirt is up past her knees and she's showing far too much skin." Rafar reflected. "Oh well, I suppose female wiles are a powerful weapon. She better use them well. The male seems competent, if not over-confident." Rafar kept staring forward, his eyes staring into some unknown world where he was still with his friend. |
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To be, or not to be: that is the question. To die, to sleep; no more; and by a sleep to say we end. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub. For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil must give us pause. That makes calamity of so long life, for who would bear the whips and scorns of time when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death, the undiscover'd country from whose bourn no traveller returns, puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all... | |
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| mossad | Dec 3 2007, 07:27 PM Post #22 |
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"Hey! I'm feeling ignored here! Why aren't I being threatened?" |
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| Malceure | Dec 3 2007, 07:29 PM Post #23 |
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Satori exited the interrogation room, his smirk still upon his face. Guard: "How did it go sir?" Satori: "He knew nothing." With that, Satori began walking down the hall, his eyes closed as he smiled, not showing his devilish side at all. Guard: "That kid creeps me out a little..." |
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| Wolf | Dec 3 2007, 07:35 PM Post #24 |
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Eon: *Once again regains his own stature with a pushkick, this time imbued with a little electrical shock to make sure Chris wouldn't try it again* I'll take you to him, but either of you try anything in his presence and I'll give you a 150 volt shock next time! |
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(Wolf) | |
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| mossad | Dec 3 2007, 07:55 PM Post #25 |
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Still feeling ignored, Alaric decides to just follow along and see what happens. |
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| Wolf | Dec 3 2007, 07:59 PM Post #26 |
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You're not being ignored Alaric. I know you're there just lets go... |
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(Wolf) | |
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| mossad | Dec 3 2007, 08:01 PM Post #27 |
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"Ha, ok. So which leader do we take them to? Hell, I think this is my field. Take them to me!" |
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| Wolf | Dec 3 2007, 08:02 PM Post #28 |
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They're yours sir. |
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(Wolf) | |
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| mossad | Dec 3 2007, 08:06 PM Post #29 |
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"What? No, I don't want them. They probably want at least the regional leader anyways." |
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Dude2000
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Dec 3 2007, 08:07 PM Post #30 |
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Rafar and his crew were at hidden in the shadows of a scraper. "Now what?!" Max whispered loudly. "Shut the hell up, weren't you listening in the briefing? We wait for the attack." Skye blasted back. "Why can't I be sent on a mission just once..?" Rafar wished. |
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To be, or not to be: that is the question. To die, to sleep; no more; and by a sleep to say we end. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub. For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil must give us pause. That makes calamity of so long life, for who would bear the whips and scorns of time when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death, the undiscover'd country from whose bourn no traveller returns, puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all... | |
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