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Welcome to Year Eight

"Love keeps her in the air when she oughta fall down, tells you she's hurtin' fore she keens. Makes her a home."

Year Eight and Still Flyin'! Thank You, Everyone!


Pages: (7) « First ... 5 6 [7]  ( Go to first unread post )

 Band of Brothers, Season 1: Episode 2
Dade Cooper
Posted: Jan 23 2012, 01:41 PM


Here's to you...


Group: OC
Posts: 46
Member No.: 565
Joined: 16-March 08



Engine Room


Dade rushed around the engine room fixing problems and heading off potential disasters, while he had The Shangren on the dirt. A siren or the nags of a persistent lover wouldn’t have found purchase in the mech’s thinking, so fixed on his task was he, but when the Jo Lynn rocked beneath him, his shaggy head snapped heavenward…even as he was thrown to the grating.

”Oh we’re humped,” he growled as he pulled himself over to the comm. and punched on his mic.

He meant it just for the bridge, but his ‘plea’ instead went throughout the ship,
”Please tell me that ain’t what I think it is.”
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J. McKenna
Posted: Jan 27 2012, 12:42 PM


'Coat


Group: Members
Posts: 28
Member No.: 892
Joined: 21-January 09



Relaxing was impossible while knowing that the go-se was about to hit the fan. Having D-Tox in your veins at the same time made the idea of relaxing so far removed that it was a thought that never even occurred to Jeremiah. The only thing that kept him from jumping up to pace back and forth were the straps that still held him tightly locked to the co-pilot's seat. Instead, his right leg was bouncing uncontrollably and his fingers played a quick beat on the armrests, matching the impatience and need for something to happen that he felt.

And, of course, thinking that jinxed the whole thing.

"Oh rutt..." he mumbled as the view outside the window lit up in a fireworks display of flashing lasers and he jerked forward, against the straps trying to see what was going on and whether their people outside were still standing. "Gorramit!" Just as he released the restraints and stood, he saw the attack ships come out of the fog - first one, then two more - sending sprays of bullets toward The Shangren, which impacted with the sound of ball bearings in a washing machine, only louder. He thought he heard a stranger's voice on the comm at that moment - or just before - but at that point he was already moving, acting on instinct more than any kind of rational thought.

”Please tell me that ain’t what I think it is.”

All he knew was that with Reggie and Abe outside, he was the more likely suspect to handle the controls for the cannons. "Get us ready t' fly!" he yelled at Miriam, leaving her to answer Dade as he disappeared out the cockpit, running for operations, having just enough time to worry whether the room would be locked and password protected. He let out a curse of relief when he found the room open, shoved inside and dropped into a seat by the console, pulling up the gunnery controls on the screen.

He stared for a moment, trying to remember what the different and various symbols stood for, then punched in a firing solution that he thought would work. Three missiles, heat seeking, from the dorsal turret programmed to head upward the moment they were launched. First thing first, though. He punched into the comm system, hoping that those outside would hear him. "Anybody still outside, ya might wanna get yer arses safe, righ' ruttin' now!" he said, but didn't wait more than another five seconds before punching the button that launched the missiles, holding his breath as he watched them track away on the monitor in front of him, then disappear due to the gorram interference.

While Jeremiah was hovering impatiently over a blank screen in operations, outside the missiles sped away, locked onto three sources of heat and went after them quickly and efficiently. Two fighters vanished in bright detonations that threw stark shadows unto the ground, while the third managed an evasive manoeuvre, which saved the pilot's life but not that of his fighter, which went spiralling down to the ground with a wing missing to meet its fate with a concussive impact.


<<OOC: GMing of the purplebelly rutters approved by the Grim One>>
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Killi Crash
Posted: Feb 1 2012, 11:03 PM


'Versal


Group: OC
Posts: 17
Member No.: 1,020
Joined: 19-October 09



The song turned to chaos and Killi did the only thing she could think to act on, since thinking wasn't really an option beyond the words "I'm gonna die." Although, her brain did manage to surprise her, because it also managed to think "I didn't want to do this job in the first place" and "I wanted to see the Eiffel in New Paris!" in the half-second before Killi hit the deck.

Or rather, the dust. The thick red-rust surface of Krane swept up around her and her knee whacked something hard- please god don't let her suit tear! - The pick-up chick yelled something about having to go NOW! And that, at least was one idea that sounded pretty gorram good!

Launching herself after Moira, hands outstretched to help with the sled, she didn't realize El wasn't with her, until she heard the Captain yell, ”Hit this mother rutter with a rock!”

A twist back, a glance through the storm and she realized Eleanor Lee was in over her head. Singsonging in her head, dancing like fire-rain... El was tough. She could deal. They had to get the cargo back safe. Keep going. Keep running for the safety of the ship! El was tough. She was strong.

El was her captain.

And she was in danger.

Terror sung in Killi's chest, swallowing her breath and leaving her only with a painful gasping that made her wonder if her suit had punctured. In the world of nuts, peanuts get crushed! And she knew all too well that she was a peanut! Hit the towering suit of powerplusnine with a ROCK? A rock? Was El on... Desperation. She was on desperation. Killi waved for Moira to keep going, screaming her forward with the force of classically trained vocal chords, "Get to Reggie and Abe! They'll guide you in!"

As she turned back to El, her brain started racing again. He'd be expecting her, El had warned him... Maybe that was intended? All that was needed was to distract him? And to do that, he needed to perceive a threat.

Running as hard as she could over the dusty surface, ducking low, Killi ducked low, grabbing a gritty piece of Krane in her right glove, while drawing her small silver knife from the utility belt of her suit. She hurled the stone with all of her inconsequential strength at the back of his helmet, and, not waiting to see if it landed, threw herself to the ground, rolling, her left arm extended full length to lash out with her knife. She wasn't hoping for flesh, but she dared to hope she might puncture the suit before he could murder Eleanor.

Krane had enough blood. It didn't need theirs.

And she wanted the gorram Eiffel Tower, gorram it!
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Miriam
Posted: Feb 12 2012, 10:43 PM


Scar Tissue


Group: Members
Posts: 59
Member No.: 575
Joined: 22-March 08



Miriam had been preparing herself not to fly, but the moment she found herself alone in the cockpit, all of that burned away like mist in the norning sun, leaving only the clarity of purpose.

Vaulting into the pilot's seat, she hit the call to the engine room.

"It's bullets." she said calmly, her hands flying over the controls, preparing to take off, a part of her straining for release with an intensity that belied her tone."They're faster than us, but they can only fly in straight lines. Once we start moving, they won't seem so bad."

To her, life was a combat mission, and it was not wanting to fly that proved you crazy.
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Eleanor Lee
Posted: Feb 24 2012, 01:19 PM


No Chickens


Group: OC
Posts: 59
Member No.: 473
Joined: 17-November 07



Before she could admire Killi’s highly effective bit of misdirection or the slash that had opened on the rear right thigh of their attacker’s atmo suit, the man broke free of Lee’s grip with a combination of a spin and sheer force. Before she could reengage, Eleanor felt the all too familiar jolt of a glove-housed Stunner, as the man’s fist struck under the ‘chin’ of her helmet and launched her into the air in a shower of azure sparks.

Lee crashed to the ground several feet away…while her helmet landed a dozen steps removed from its owner.

Blue hair blew in the Krane wind.

****

The Big House – Years Ago

”Stay down, 90186!”

The cellblock floor carried her DNA away in rivers of sin sourced from the deep caves of her flesh. With her brown eyes a mere two inches from the crimson streams, Eleanor marveled at the depths of the fluid, the beauty. Meanwhile, the white noise of the other prisoners whooped and catcalled in her consciousness’s periphery; the specifics of their taunts unknown but their bent, their bent was quite clear: We see you Lee. We see you down, and the longer you stay down, the longer you show us your knickers, bitch.

”Stay down, 90186!”

The gift of reverie rewrapped itself and her eyes refocused. Smearing the blood…not her blood anymore because that shit had cut bait and run…so she smeared the blood with her hand, when she placed it on the metal grating before her face. Her whole body swayed and quivered, reeling from the recent beating it had received from both prisoners and guards, but with the will of the damned, she forced strength into her arm…and started to rise.

”Stay down, Lee!”

The white noise shifted shade and grew red, moving from jeers of hatred to cheers for her display of pure, uncut rebellion. Her knee pulled high and touched her broken ribs, which gifted her with a lance of additional pain but helped to further clear her mind. With one bare foot under her, Eleanor Lee, shaking and savagely beaten, rose with brown eyes ready and craving another round.

A nearly palpable blue aura bathed her features, as the guards’ baton-mapped Stunners projected their targeting lights, readying to juice her up.

But the Juice Eleanor Lee already held could light New Vegas.

”You stupid, stubborn, bitch!”, the lead guard hissed.

Lee smiled, her white teeth made more brilliant against the blood,
”Blow me.”

As the Stunner’s arcs threw her against the nearest cell, the horde of murders and villains holding audience screamed not for her pain but in support of her defiance…the fickle breeze of the prison had swung to her favor.

A moment later, and she was back on the floor of the cellblock, her fingernails blackened and parts of her hair smoking.

Another moment passed, and Lee’s hand once again moved in front of her face; sweeping away new rivers of her blood.

”Stay down, Lee!”

Ignoring the surge of approval from the chorus of criminals holding witness, Eleanor Lee forced strength into her spasming arm…

And rose.


The Here and Now

Krane’s dirt tasted human flesh for the first time.

Eleanor’s cheek caressed the gritty soil, as she regained her focus.

Her blue eyes turned purple, when they shot red against the foreign gasses, yet they remained open.

Her nostrils felt like they sheltered the business ends of two cigars, and her throat seemed to have taken up arson, as a hobby. Still, though, she fought every instinct in her atoms and held the last of her breath.

Work it, Make it, Do it, makes us
Harder, better, faster, stronger


Lifting her head slightly, she moved her gloved hand in front of her face, placed her splayed fingers in the dirt…

And rose.

N-n-now that that don’t kill me
Can only make me stronger
I need you to hurry up now
‘Cause I can’t wait much longer
I know I got to be right now
‘Cause I can’t get much wronger


A moment later she stood, her blue hair whipping in the Krane wind, while in the sky above her three Whippoorwills met their end by Jeremiah McKenna’s hand…lending a spectacular backdrop to the already impressive ‘stand’ of Eleanor Lee.

Bow in the presence of greatness
‘Cause right now thou has forsaken us


In front of her, her enemy struggled with the ridiculously illusive Killi Crash, but the small woman was overdrawn on bought time…he’d take her soon.


To the left of the battling pair, and closer to The Shangren, her helmet spun lazily, a top ending its run.

To the right, back toward the trailer, her laser pistol rested.

You should be honored by my lateness
That I would even show up to this fake shit


As was the providence of the insane, she choose neither path; instead opting for the course most crazy and tackled Killi and their attacker, sending them all into a pile.

As long as she maintained contact with him, her enemy couldn’t use his stunners, so Lee dropped her fists and knees into his body as they rolled on the dirt. However, she wasn’t looking to end the fight, not yet anyway.

She just needed to divert his focus long enough for her to recharge.

Finally she gripped the man’s leg in a bearhug, placed her mouth over the jet of atmo leaking from Killi’s strike, and inhaled.

Act like you can’t tell who made this new gospel
Homey take six and take this, Haters


Fresh air filled her burning lungs with new life, and sealed the fate of their enemy.

Knifing her hands into Killi’s slice, Lee pulled.

N-n-now that that don’t kill me
Can only make me stronger


The same power that lit Eleanor in prison flooded through her on Krane and despite her dire predicament, she worked her mania with a smile on her face. Imbued with madness incarnate, Lee’s arms extended outward, and Killi’s slice became much, much more. When she was done, most of the man’s leg was exposed, and his entire suit compromised.

He stopped fighting and tried to comically pinch together his suit.

Lee stood and ran, not toward her helmet but her laser pistol…all the while smiling.


Work it, Make it, Do it, makes us
Harder, better, faster, stronger




(lyrics by Mr. West)
(GM Permission given, let me know if you need any edits, E)
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Killi Crash
Posted: Feb 28 2012, 10:57 PM


'Versal


Group: OC
Posts: 17
Member No.: 1,020
Joined: 19-October 09



Holy bejeazus he was huge! Big! Like bold type headlines in yesterdays news, scrolling across smart paper for a morning read.

Big man squashes Killi Crash Like Bug

Krane Crushes Crash!

Aspiring Singer Hits Last Note.

No, that last one was entirely lame! Her suit was bulky and a hindrance as her night-club dance-party body rolled away from a violent and well-placed kick. Somehow she rolled swiftly to her feet. The mad man - Or was it madman?- Well, either way he was blood-rutting pissed off! ... flung a thick fist that she barely ducked.

"First time my plan's every worked!" Killi crowed as he dove for her and she ducked away. At least, hhe first part of the plan had worked well, getting the guy off Eleanor. This second part of the plan, Killi recognized with paralyzing terror, was something she really should have had more thinking to do with.

Ducking another blow, she danced right, not realizing it was a feint to feed a left-side kick to her leg that nearly crumpled her down into the rocky planet'd dust. So involved was Killi in that moment, trying not to die, that she missed El's rise to glory. All she knew was that something slammed hard into her oppenent, and she went down, rolling free of the chaos.

Crawling a pair of paces, Killi regained her feet, and looked back to see Captain Eleanor Lee, blue hair waving in the hot wind, red dust staining her sweated face like warpaint, as the man struggled desperately to close the hole in his suit. She looked like a hero. Or an anti-hero.

Whatever she was, she'd never looked more welcome and more amazing to Killi than she did in that moment. The guy was flailing now, desparate to stop the leak and keep from drinking in Krane's airborne cocktail.

He would have killed me, Killi ruthlessly tried to push away the guilt. He would have killed us both. And that thought drove her into action, pushing her up to Eleanor and unsnapping the air-line from the back of her suit, and twisting the regular closed, "Come on! We have to get out of here. Share my air. We have to get under cover!"

The distance back to the ship and the waiting cover fire from Abe and Reggie suddenly looked very very far away... But there was suddenly no doubt in Killi's mind. As long as she was with El, they would both make it back. She'd see to it.

Thank you so much to GrimJack for the awesome El action scene! Sorry I wasn't much help at all with it!
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Miriam
Posted: Dec 27 2013, 10:30 PM


Scar Tissue


Group: Members
Posts: 59
Member No.: 575
Joined: 22-March 08



The missiles flashed away from the Shangren, their trails disappearing into the roiling atmosphere. Time paused, caught on a knife's edge, and then the explosions bloomed through the bilious fog like depth charges in a silty sea. Somewhere out there, two fighters turned into expanding clouds of fire and debris, and a third spun and plunged and tore a ragged gouge into the barren ground.

Part of her couldn't help calculating what she would have done, how she would have evaded those missiles out there, had it been her.

By not being there was the obvious answer, but the thought that followed on its heels was more comforting.

They had missiles.

She had known it, but knowing and knowing could be two different things.

If it came down to it, running wasn't the only thing they could do. Sure, they'd have to run, but they could run shooting, and they had someone who could do it.

Jeremiah wasn't competition. He was covering fire.

Deep inside, she felt a knot that had twisted and tightened some time back, to where she hardly felt it any more, suddenly loosen.

"We're going to make it." she said to herself. "I'm exactly where I need to be."

When the others came back on board, nothing would stand in their way.
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Moira Bryce
Posted: Dec 28 2013, 10:44 PM


Hired Hand


Group: Members
Posts: 41
Member No.: 1,122
Joined: 22-October 10



The grav lifts on the first sled was giving out with a motor's whine, but Moira was able to haul both sleds around to provide some cover before she shut off the lifts, letting the sleds grind to the cargo bay's flooring. She refused to acknowledge just what comprised that cover, though. The tear in her suit was small, but she could feel the queasy emptying, making her head feel light. After boosting the oxygen feed, she glanced over the topmost bodybag in time to see Killi and Eleanor turn for the ship.

She didn't know these people, as she glanced from the women to Abe and Reggie, but a beep from her controller reminded her it didn't matter. She fumbled for her radio feed, broadcasting, "We have twenty seconds before the bombs blow." There was an unspoken question at the end. Was there time? Moira didn't bother asking it, though. Another nagging question. Did they know about the bombs?

She left her metal barre with the soldiers and ducked around the far end of the sleds after getting her bearings. Relying on the cover fire from this unknown crew, she made her way toward the bay door's controls, silently willing Lee and Crash to get aboard while the seconds dwindled far too quickly.
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