Barnum Posted December 22, 2007 Posted December 22, 2007 Nightrival slinks towards the wooden door and presses his ear against it, listening for footsteps or voices on the other side. Shinken gracefully and silently dropped in through the window right behind Nightrival. Beyond the door, Nightrival heard nothing but the dull drone of machinery, probably just the climate control in the warehouse. Upon closer inspection, the door did not appear to have a lock. "Thanks," he said to the henchman. "You do this often?" He nodded to the building, indicating he meant mercenary work. The African soldier took a long drag on his cigarette, flicked off the ash, and then held it out as if studying the nicotine delivery device while he exhaled slowly. "I am . . . how do you say? . . . a professional." The African took another drag on his cigarette. It was just about burned down to the filter. He dropped it, and snuffed it under the sole of his black combat boot. With both hands free he hoisted his very high-tech looking rifle to his shoulder and looked down the sights. "And you?" he asked without looking up from his "gun meditation." "You have the look of a man who is also a professional. No?"
Barnum Posted December 22, 2007 Posted December 22, 2007 Nightrival slinks towards the wooden door and presses his ear against it, listening for footsteps or voices on the other side. Shinken gracefully and silently dropped in through the window right behind Nightrival. Beyond the door, Nightrival heard nothing but the dull drone of machinery, probably just the climate control in the warehouse. Upon closer inspection, the door did not appear to have a lock. "Thanks," he said to the henchman. "You do this often?" He nodded to the building, indicating he meant mercenary work. The African soldier took a long drag on his cigarette, flicked off the ash, and then held it out as if studying the nicotine delivery device while he exhaled slowly. "I am . . . how do you say? . . . a professional." The African took another drag on his cigarette. It was just about burned down to the filter. He dropped it, and snuffed it under the sole of his black combat boot. With both hands free he hoisted his very high-tech looking rifle to his shoulder and looked down the sights. "And you?" he asked without looking up from his "gun meditation." "You have the look of a man who is also a professional. No?"
Veiled Malice Posted December 22, 2007 Posted December 22, 2007 "A professional," Nanowire repeated, trying the word on for size. Smoke drifted lazily up from his cigarette, wrapping around his skull plate before continuing up towards the ceiling. Was he a "professional", and if he was, did he want to be one? Doing this for a living seemed... well, wrong, for one, but morality seemed to become less and less important as time went on. But it would also be small, criminally so, if one could forgive the obvious irony. Nanowire knew he was meant for more. "No, I don't think so," he said. "It's a job for me, not a life choice." Nanowire dropped the remains of his cigarette on the ground and crushed them underfoot. No, he would not be so constrained in the future. This was the end of these petty crimes. Whether that meant he'd stop crime altogether, or those crimes would all the more grandiose, he wasn't sure. He took a look around the room as he considered just that.
Veiled Malice Posted December 22, 2007 Posted December 22, 2007 "A professional," Nanowire repeated, trying the word on for size. Smoke drifted lazily up from his cigarette, wrapping around his skull plate before continuing up towards the ceiling. Was he a "professional", and if he was, did he want to be one? Doing this for a living seemed... well, wrong, for one, but morality seemed to become less and less important as time went on. But it would also be small, criminally so, if one could forgive the obvious irony. Nanowire knew he was meant for more. "No, I don't think so," he said. "It's a job for me, not a life choice." Nanowire dropped the remains of his cigarette on the ground and crushed them underfoot. No, he would not be so constrained in the future. This was the end of these petty crimes. Whether that meant he'd stop crime altogether, or those crimes would all the more grandiose, he wasn't sure. He took a look around the room as he considered just that.
Veiled Malice Posted December 22, 2007 Posted December 22, 2007 "A professional," Nanowire repeated, trying the word on for size. Smoke drifted lazily up from his cigarette, wrapping around his skull plate before continuing up towards the ceiling. Was he a "professional", and if he was, did he want to be one? Doing this for a living seemed... well, wrong, for one, but morality seemed to become less and less important as time went on. But it would also be small, criminally so, if one could forgive the obvious irony. Nanowire knew he was meant for more. "No, I don't think so," he said. "It's a job for me, not a life choice." Nanowire dropped the remains of his cigarette on the ground and crushed them underfoot. No, he would not be so constrained in the future. This was the end of these petty crimes. Whether that meant he'd stop crime altogether, or those crimes would all the more grandiose, he wasn't sure. He took a look around the room as he considered just that.
Shadowboxer Posted December 22, 2007 Author Posted December 22, 2007 For a moment, Nightrival considers leaping out the window and running home to hide in his warm bed, oblivious to the supposed seething corruption that has leaked into his neighbourhood. Drugs? Who cares? People will always do what they want regardless of the risks. And no matter how many lowlives he crushed beneath his fists and feet, there will be others to take their place. As his hand graces the doorknob he hesitates for a second; the room, the warehouse, the Southside, and the all the years spent enduring brutal training regimes all freeze and coagulate into one coherant image flickering in his mind's eye. Would those weeks recovering from shattered bones and twisted muscles all be worth this one uncertain foray? Would he succeed? Would he make a difference? As one man sneaks into a warehouse, others fight for their lives because someone sold them poison. He remembers. He was seven years old when he walked into the hospital room, holding his father's hand. His mother was lying in a massive bed, completely cocooned in white blankets. Her skin was pale like paper, her face sunken and stretched and tired. The room reeked of bleach and boiled potatoes. He wrenched free of his father's grip and slowly ambled towards her. She opened her eyes and craned her neck to look at him. "Have you been a good boy?" she asked. Her voice was a hoarse whisper. "Yes, momma," he replied. "I'm glad, Liam," she said. "Be a good boy. Just be good." Liam squeezed his mother's hand. Nightrival clenches his fists. "Time to earn those superhero paycheques," he says quietly, and with a single breath he grips the doorknob, opens the door ajar and slithers into the nearest shadow. Once he finds a suitable location behind some crates, he surveys the scene to mentally map the interior.
Shadowboxer Posted December 22, 2007 Author Posted December 22, 2007 For a moment, Nightrival considers leaping out the window and running home to hide in his warm bed, oblivious to the supposed seething corruption that has leaked into his neighbourhood. Drugs? Who cares? People will always do what they want regardless of the risks. And no matter how many lowlives he crushed beneath his fists and feet, there will be others to take their place. As his hand graces the doorknob he hesitates for a second; the room, the warehouse, the Southside, and the all the years spent enduring brutal training regimes all freeze and coagulate into one coherant image flickering in his mind's eye. Would those weeks recovering from shattered bones and twisted muscles all be worth this one uncertain foray? Would he succeed? Would he make a difference? As one man sneaks into a warehouse, others fight for their lives because someone sold them poison. He remembers. He was seven years old when he walked into the hospital room, holding his father's hand. His mother was lying in a massive bed, completely cocooned in white blankets. Her skin was pale like paper, her face sunken and stretched and tired. The room reeked of bleach and boiled potatoes. He wrenched free of his father's grip and slowly ambled towards her. She opened her eyes and craned her neck to look at him. "Have you been a good boy?" she asked. Her voice was a hoarse whisper. "Yes, momma," he replied. "I'm glad, Liam," she said. "Be a good boy. Just be good." Liam squeezed his mother's hand. Nightrival clenches his fists. "Time to earn those superhero paycheques," he says quietly, and with a single breath he grips the doorknob, opens the door ajar and slithers into the nearest shadow. Once he finds a suitable location behind some crates, he surveys the scene to mentally map the interior.
Shadowboxer Posted December 22, 2007 Author Posted December 22, 2007 For a moment, Nightrival considers leaping out the window and running home to hide in his warm bed, oblivious to the supposed seething corruption that has leaked into his neighbourhood. Drugs? Who cares? People will always do what they want regardless of the risks. And no matter how many lowlives he crushed beneath his fists and feet, there will be others to take their place. As his hand graces the doorknob he hesitates for a second; the room, the warehouse, the Southside, and the all the years spent enduring brutal training regimes all freeze and coagulate into one coherant image flickering in his mind's eye. Would those weeks recovering from shattered bones and twisted muscles all be worth this one uncertain foray? Would he succeed? Would he make a difference? As one man sneaks into a warehouse, others fight for their lives because someone sold them poison. He remembers. He was seven years old when he walked into the hospital room, holding his father's hand. His mother was lying in a massive bed, completely cocooned in white blankets. Her skin was pale like paper, her face sunken and stretched and tired. The room reeked of bleach and boiled potatoes. He wrenched free of his father's grip and slowly ambled towards her. She opened her eyes and craned her neck to look at him. "Have you been a good boy?" she asked. Her voice was a hoarse whisper. "Yes, momma," he replied. "I'm glad, Liam," she said. "Be a good boy. Just be good." Liam squeezed his mother's hand. Nightrival clenches his fists. "Time to earn those superhero paycheques," he says quietly, and with a single breath he grips the doorknob, opens the door ajar and slithers into the nearest shadow. Once he finds a suitable location behind some crates, he surveys the scene to mentally map the interior.
Barnum Posted December 23, 2007 Posted December 23, 2007 "No, I don't think so," he said. "It's a job for me, not a life choice." The African nodded knowingly. "I used to think as you do. This is just a job. I won't do this forever. I just need to do this one more time." He laughed softly to himself as if remembering his own youthful naiveté with some disdain. "I've never made a life choice to hold this gun. I've just taken one job after the next . . . for most of my life." He hoisted the rifle to his shoulder, took a step away from the wall and surveyed the warehouse and his men. "But I'm sure you will find the way . . . where I did not." To Nightrival's surprise, the door didn't open into a large central room as he expected. Rather, it opened into a wide hallway that was lined with doors. There was an additional door on the east wall just south of where Nightrival was standing. It looked to lead to another storage closet. There were three sets of doors on the west wall: two smaller doors like the one they just exited and a little further north on the wall, a large set of double doors. Well down the hallway, below an illuminated "Exit" sign was a metal, exterior door. The roar of the HVAC unit was louder now, and Nightrival still couldn't make out any unusual sounds.
Barnum Posted December 23, 2007 Posted December 23, 2007 "No, I don't think so," he said. "It's a job for me, not a life choice." The African nodded knowingly. "I used to think as you do. This is just a job. I won't do this forever. I just need to do this one more time." He laughed softly to himself as if remembering his own youthful naiveté with some disdain. "I've never made a life choice to hold this gun. I've just taken one job after the next . . . for most of my life." He hoisted the rifle to his shoulder, took a step away from the wall and surveyed the warehouse and his men. "But I'm sure you will find the way . . . where I did not." To Nightrival's surprise, the door didn't open into a large central room as he expected. Rather, it opened into a wide hallway that was lined with doors. There was an additional door on the east wall just south of where Nightrival was standing. It looked to lead to another storage closet. There were three sets of doors on the west wall: two smaller doors like the one they just exited and a little further north on the wall, a large set of double doors. Well down the hallway, below an illuminated "Exit" sign was a metal, exterior door. The roar of the HVAC unit was louder now, and Nightrival still couldn't make out any unusual sounds.
Barnum Posted December 23, 2007 Posted December 23, 2007 "No, I don't think so," he said. "It's a job for me, not a life choice." The African nodded knowingly. "I used to think as you do. This is just a job. I won't do this forever. I just need to do this one more time." He laughed softly to himself as if remembering his own youthful naiveté with some disdain. "I've never made a life choice to hold this gun. I've just taken one job after the next . . . for most of my life." He hoisted the rifle to his shoulder, took a step away from the wall and surveyed the warehouse and his men. "But I'm sure you will find the way . . . where I did not." To Nightrival's surprise, the door didn't open into a large central room as he expected. Rather, it opened into a wide hallway that was lined with doors. There was an additional door on the east wall just south of where Nightrival was standing. It looked to lead to another storage closet. There were three sets of doors on the west wall: two smaller doors like the one they just exited and a little further north on the wall, a large set of double doors. Well down the hallway, below an illuminated "Exit" sign was a metal, exterior door. The roar of the HVAC unit was louder now, and Nightrival still couldn't make out any unusual sounds.
Shadowboxer Posted December 23, 2007 Author Posted December 23, 2007 Huh, I gotta remember how these places are laid out. I mean, I work in one. Nightrival takes a second to get his bearings and deciding that the direct route would be best, he resumes his stealthy composure and sneaks over to the double doors. Rumbling machinery prevent him from distinguishing sounds that would tell him what he'll expect on the other side. There was one dealer, but there could be a whole army or just a handful of shambling junkies waiting for them. Scouting out the layout would melt the ice expanding in Nightrival's stomach. "I'm gonna take a look," he whispers to Shinken. "Maybe ya should check the other rooms, see if they can give us some sort of advantage." He pushes open one of the double doors and pokes his head in to examine the other side.
Shadowboxer Posted December 23, 2007 Author Posted December 23, 2007 Huh, I gotta remember how these places are laid out. I mean, I work in one. Nightrival takes a second to get his bearings and deciding that the direct route would be best, he resumes his stealthy composure and sneaks over to the double doors. Rumbling machinery prevent him from distinguishing sounds that would tell him what he'll expect on the other side. There was one dealer, but there could be a whole army or just a handful of shambling junkies waiting for them. Scouting out the layout would melt the ice expanding in Nightrival's stomach. "I'm gonna take a look," he whispers to Shinken. "Maybe ya should check the other rooms, see if they can give us some sort of advantage." He pushes open one of the double doors and pokes his head in to examine the other side.
Shadowboxer Posted December 23, 2007 Author Posted December 23, 2007 Huh, I gotta remember how these places are laid out. I mean, I work in one. Nightrival takes a second to get his bearings and deciding that the direct route would be best, he resumes his stealthy composure and sneaks over to the double doors. Rumbling machinery prevent him from distinguishing sounds that would tell him what he'll expect on the other side. There was one dealer, but there could be a whole army or just a handful of shambling junkies waiting for them. Scouting out the layout would melt the ice expanding in Nightrival's stomach. "I'm gonna take a look," he whispers to Shinken. "Maybe ya should check the other rooms, see if they can give us some sort of advantage." He pushes open one of the double doors and pokes his head in to examine the other side.
Veiled Malice Posted December 23, 2007 Posted December 23, 2007 For most of his life, Nanowire mentally remarked. That was something of a wakeup call, even if he was unable to show it by way of facial expression. As a machine, or as close to one as he could get, time meant little beyond simple bordom. The passage of the days, months and years didn't mean his gradual death anymore, but did it matter that he was effectively immortal when there was no point, just jobs like this one, one after another? No, the plan would work. The plan had to work. The alternative was unthinkable. Losing his humanity on the surface had been hard enough. He couldn't deal with losing his soul as well. "Do you..." Nanowire hesited, thinking of how he would phrase his question. "Do you ever get tired of it? I mean, you're not like me. You can do anything with your life. Why do this?"
Veiled Malice Posted December 23, 2007 Posted December 23, 2007 For most of his life, Nanowire mentally remarked. That was something of a wakeup call, even if he was unable to show it by way of facial expression. As a machine, or as close to one as he could get, time meant little beyond simple bordom. The passage of the days, months and years didn't mean his gradual death anymore, but did it matter that he was effectively immortal when there was no point, just jobs like this one, one after another? No, the plan would work. The plan had to work. The alternative was unthinkable. Losing his humanity on the surface had been hard enough. He couldn't deal with losing his soul as well. "Do you..." Nanowire hesited, thinking of how he would phrase his question. "Do you ever get tired of it? I mean, you're not like me. You can do anything with your life. Why do this?"
Veiled Malice Posted December 23, 2007 Posted December 23, 2007 For most of his life, Nanowire mentally remarked. That was something of a wakeup call, even if he was unable to show it by way of facial expression. As a machine, or as close to one as he could get, time meant little beyond simple bordom. The passage of the days, months and years didn't mean his gradual death anymore, but did it matter that he was effectively immortal when there was no point, just jobs like this one, one after another? No, the plan would work. The plan had to work. The alternative was unthinkable. Losing his humanity on the surface had been hard enough. He couldn't deal with losing his soul as well. "Do you..." Nanowire hesited, thinking of how he would phrase his question. "Do you ever get tired of it? I mean, you're not like me. You can do anything with your life. Why do this?"
Barnum Posted December 26, 2007 Posted December 26, 2007 "Do you..." Nanowire hesited, thinking of how he would phrase his question. "Do you ever get tired of it? I mean, you're not like me. You can do anything with your life. Why do this?" "Being encased in metal is not the only thing in this world that can limit options, but I am not a prisoner to this. It is my choice, and I own it. Nor do I get tired of it. I hold the rifle with pride." The African smiled a wry smile, but whether he was smiling at something unsaid or at his obvious refusal to answer the "why" question it was impossible to tell. Nightrival cracked open the door, and stuck his head through . . . He saw the rifle-toting guard that was facing the door just a second before the guard saw him. The guard discharged his weapon, pelting the door and the wall with automatic fire. Nightrival felt the rush of air as the deadly bullets whizzed by his head.
Barnum Posted December 26, 2007 Posted December 26, 2007 "Do you..." Nanowire hesited, thinking of how he would phrase his question. "Do you ever get tired of it? I mean, you're not like me. You can do anything with your life. Why do this?" "Being encased in metal is not the only thing in this world that can limit options, but I am not a prisoner to this. It is my choice, and I own it. Nor do I get tired of it. I hold the rifle with pride." The African smiled a wry smile, but whether he was smiling at something unsaid or at his obvious refusal to answer the "why" question it was impossible to tell. Nightrival cracked open the door, and stuck his head through . . . He saw the rifle-toting guard that was facing the door just a second before the guard saw him. The guard discharged his weapon, pelting the door and the wall with automatic fire. Nightrival felt the rush of air as the deadly bullets whizzed by his head.
Barnum Posted December 26, 2007 Posted December 26, 2007 "Do you..." Nanowire hesited, thinking of how he would phrase his question. "Do you ever get tired of it? I mean, you're not like me. You can do anything with your life. Why do this?" "Being encased in metal is not the only thing in this world that can limit options, but I am not a prisoner to this. It is my choice, and I own it. Nor do I get tired of it. I hold the rifle with pride." The African smiled a wry smile, but whether he was smiling at something unsaid or at his obvious refusal to answer the "why" question it was impossible to tell. Nightrival cracked open the door, and stuck his head through . . . He saw the rifle-toting guard that was facing the door just a second before the guard saw him. The guard discharged his weapon, pelting the door and the wall with automatic fire. Nightrival felt the rush of air as the deadly bullets whizzed by his head.
Shadowboxer Posted December 26, 2007 Author Posted December 26, 2007 Ah, damn! His ears ringing from the bullets lodging into metal and wood, Nightrival sinks low to the ground. He picks out two others in his line of sight. Another brandishing an assault rifle, and another . . . Nightrival peers closer to fully grasp the lumbering figure standing at the end of the room. This one was huge and encased in metal, much like Shinken, but with a fluidity not seen in those wearing armour. Nightrival keeps an eye on him, but focuses on the gunman. He flings himself out the double doors and leaps towards the guard, nearly closing the distance. He then tumbles forward to get into striking distance. Nightrival slips into a Tae Kwan Do stance, relying on power and speed to quickly control the situation. He relaxes and watches his new opponents.
Shadowboxer Posted December 26, 2007 Author Posted December 26, 2007 Ah, damn! His ears ringing from the bullets lodging into metal and wood, Nightrival sinks low to the ground. He picks out two others in his line of sight. Another brandishing an assault rifle, and another . . . Nightrival peers closer to fully grasp the lumbering figure standing at the end of the room. This one was huge and encased in metal, much like Shinken, but with a fluidity not seen in those wearing armour. Nightrival keeps an eye on him, but focuses on the gunman. He flings himself out the double doors and leaps towards the guard, nearly closing the distance. He then tumbles forward to get into striking distance. Nightrival slips into a Tae Kwan Do stance, relying on power and speed to quickly control the situation. He relaxes and watches his new opponents.
Shadowboxer Posted December 26, 2007 Author Posted December 26, 2007 Ah, damn! His ears ringing from the bullets lodging into metal and wood, Nightrival sinks low to the ground. He picks out two others in his line of sight. Another brandishing an assault rifle, and another . . . Nightrival peers closer to fully grasp the lumbering figure standing at the end of the room. This one was huge and encased in metal, much like Shinken, but with a fluidity not seen in those wearing armour. Nightrival keeps an eye on him, but focuses on the gunman. He flings himself out the double doors and leaps towards the guard, nearly closing the distance. He then tumbles forward to get into striking distance. Nightrival slips into a Tae Kwan Do stance, relying on power and speed to quickly control the situation. He relaxes and watches his new opponents.
Veiled Malice Posted December 27, 2007 Posted December 27, 2007 For some reason, the African man's words reassured Nanowire. This life didn't have to be the end for him. There was a difference between him and Nanowire, yes, but at it's essence, the way he looked at his problem had changed. It wasn't what he'd expected, talking to this man. In the movies, men such as this were nothing more than stereotypes, murders and psychos out for a way to get a fix of their favorite drug. But in reality, they had their own dreams, their own ambitions. That was what would keep him above the job. Knowing that someday, he could- Automatic gunfire cut his thoughts off suddenly, causing him to start badly. He nearly lurched forwards into the African man before regaining his balance. As he did, a shadowy shape burst out of the door across the hall and taking up a martial arts stance in the middle of the room. Seeing somebody do something so stupid nearly made him forget why he was in the warehouse in the first place. What's he thinking, Nanowire thought with incredulity bordering on shock. Is he insane? They'll gun him down! This might be a job, but Nanowire wasn't ready to see somebody die over it. He stepped forward, his footsteps ringing with the sound of nearly a half ton of ultratech carbine on concrete. "No one shoots him!" he bellowed, leveling his finger like a gun at the shadowy figure. "He's mine!" He hoped this guy would take the hint and get out of here, but knowing the superhero psyche as he did, Nanowire figured this would be one more instance of misplaced duty overtaking common sense... ...not even consciously realizing that was exactly what he wanted for himself.
Veiled Malice Posted December 27, 2007 Posted December 27, 2007 For some reason, the African man's words reassured Nanowire. This life didn't have to be the end for him. There was a difference between him and Nanowire, yes, but at it's essence, the way he looked at his problem had changed. It wasn't what he'd expected, talking to this man. In the movies, men such as this were nothing more than stereotypes, murders and psychos out for a way to get a fix of their favorite drug. But in reality, they had their own dreams, their own ambitions. That was what would keep him above the job. Knowing that someday, he could- Automatic gunfire cut his thoughts off suddenly, causing him to start badly. He nearly lurched forwards into the African man before regaining his balance. As he did, a shadowy shape burst out of the door across the hall and taking up a martial arts stance in the middle of the room. Seeing somebody do something so stupid nearly made him forget why he was in the warehouse in the first place. What's he thinking, Nanowire thought with incredulity bordering on shock. Is he insane? They'll gun him down! This might be a job, but Nanowire wasn't ready to see somebody die over it. He stepped forward, his footsteps ringing with the sound of nearly a half ton of ultratech carbine on concrete. "No one shoots him!" he bellowed, leveling his finger like a gun at the shadowy figure. "He's mine!" He hoped this guy would take the hint and get out of here, but knowing the superhero psyche as he did, Nanowire figured this would be one more instance of misplaced duty overtaking common sense... ...not even consciously realizing that was exactly what he wanted for himself.
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