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| Avast Me Hearties!; Danger Room Scenario #1 | |
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| Topic Started: July 17, 2015, 10:02 pm (322 Views) | |
| Jesse | July 17, 2015, 10:02 pm Post #1 |
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Character: Nightcrawler Date: March 13 Time: Before Lunch Place: Utopia Danger Room Earlier: At 8AM Saturday Morning, a message was sent out to everyone’s phones and local emails.
Now, 10:45 AM. Within the Danger Room, Kurt paced to and fro, filled with all sorts of nervous energy. He had a computer generated fencing sabre in his left hand, and was casually twirling in a wide circle. The room itself was in a staging mode. There were racks of pirate-themed weapons along one wall. Swords, daggers, pistols, muskets, black power bombs, etc. Along another wall were pirate costumes and accessories, along with changing rooms. Beyond that, the place was pretty stark and featureless as it waited for people to stage and signify they were ready for the simulation to begin. Nightcrawler had been here for the last hour, getting his costume just right. A bright red bandana circled his head, pulling back his unruly hair and hung down his neck, contrasting dramatically with his dark coloration. He wore a ragged, torn, blousy white shirt with a loose fitting open, dark brown vest. A pair of tight fitting tan shorts covered his legs down to the knee and he was bare from there down, save for an anklet made from gold and mother of pearl beads. A length of his tail, just before the barb, was wrapped like a boxer’s knuckles. He thought he looked appropriately scurvy. Sure, he should lose the shirt to be historically accurate, but he was a modest sort of fellow, even though covered in fur. He hoped people would come, have fun, and find some worth in the training scenario. He’d hate to think Forge put so much work into all of this simulation just so Kurt could play with himself. Err… play pirates with himself. Not something else. Eww. Tags: Open Kurt’s Costume: Spoiler: click to toggle |
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| Marc | August 9, 2015, 10:20 pm Post #11 |
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Character: Icarus Date: March 13 Time: Before Lunch Place: Utopia Danger Room Josh felt right at home in the crow’s nest, far above the ocean’s surface and the ship’s planks, his eagle vision allowing him to get a good look on the action that was beginning to unfold below. Drifting up were Forge’s words – a reiteration of Josh’s ascertainment that they would not surrender and orders to keep the boarding party off their ship. Fuzzy and Feathers, really? But he had little time for pondering that, for there were pirates to be kept off the ship, and only two muskets to fire – which he did after hollering down an “Aye aye, Cap’n.” in Forge’s direction. Once, twice. Then, the ammunition was spent, and he did not feel like reloading. There was another way he could help keep the swarming vermin off their own deck. Jumping onto the outer rim of the basket he was standing in, he leapt into the air, unfurling his wings when he was far enough away from the main sails. He shot down on wings that were streamlined to his back, allowing him to maneuver with them quickly but gain speed first. That dive allowed him to weave between the ships, swerving over, under and around the lines that connected them, and swinging his axe, he chopped through many of the ropes that secured the enemy vessel to theirs via grappling hooks. The swaying of the ships based on wave movement was bringing them dangerously close to trapping him between the hulls a couple of times but he managed to only get clipped in the shoulder once, lightly. Completing the first sweep between the ships, he pulled back up, emerging from between the ships like an angel of vengeance, his red wings bathed in sunlight reflected in sparkles from the water below. Quickly, he gained some height before he once again flattened the wings to his back and returned for another sweep, this time not aiming an axe at the lines but physically knocking people off the crawl-ladders that supported their descent into the USS Utopia. Many a splashes cut short screams of pirates sent to the waters below, likely an early grave to most of them for pirates were not known to have been good swimmers back in their golden age. As he was flying his pass, he kept an eye out for Kurt, err .. Fuzzy, who was dancing with swords and teleports below, putting on a show for anyone who cared to see. And Josh cared. For it was amazing to watch, even preoccupied as Josh was by adding his own contribution to the defense of their vessel. The way Kurt was brandishing his weapons, the way he was skillfully leaping, tumbling, teleporting, jumping this way and that, seemingly everywhere at once and nowhere graspable for any enemy to get their hands on him, was pure masterwork. Returning for the third sweep, Josh couldn’t help the whoop that escaped him as he passed by his blue-furred friend, but when he returned near Forge, he hollered out for a different reason. “Ya need those fires dealt with, Cap’n?” As the flyer, he was likely best equipped to deal with providing a temporary fireman’s relief here. Tags: Nightcrawler, Forge Edited by Marc, August 30, 2015, 3:34 am.
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| Jesse | August 29, 2015, 1:37 pm Post #12 |
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Character: Nightcrawler Date: March 13 Time: Before Lunch Place: Utopia Danger Room Kurt was learning a number of things very quickly during this simulation. Some lessons were just reaffirmations of things he already knew, some were jarring revelations. First, fighting is /fun/. Sure, it might not be as much fun if real people were screaming and bleeding, but they weren't. Instead, this was a contest, a physical challenge of strength, endurance, speed, and skill. The better fighter would win and Kurt was winning. He fought like a devil, disappearing in bursts of smoke, only to reappear just as quick for surprise attacks. He'd even disappear in reappear in the same place to make people flinch, taking advantage of that surprise. And he didn't just stab fools. He tripped, kicked, punched, and grabbed enemies. In truth, he stabbed relatively few people, rather using the sword primarily for defense and create openings. It was a blast... At least it was a blast at first. The second thing Kurt realized is that fighting is tiring, doubly so for him. His acrobatic fighting style did little to conserve energy and his sword was getting heavier and heavier as he swung it through the air. Fancy footwork began slowing, teleportations becoming more scarce. His pink tongue was visible behind white teeth as he panted, fur glistening with sweat. Captivity had not been kind to his physical conditioning, but more than that, this scenario was designed to test, to challenge, and to train. What began fun was growing more and more desperate as the scenario progressed. No matter how many Spaniards he sent to the deck or the drink, there were more, always more, attacking in twos and threes. Not a one of them were an even match for Kurt, but they made up for quality in quantity. The third revelation is that the more tired one grows, the harder it is to remain aware of your surroundings. One's vision tightens, narrows into a tunnel of focus surrounded by grey noise one just can't keep track of. And that's how Kurt was shot. He felt the pain before the report of the musket registered to his elfin ears. Lighting danced over his right arm and shoulder as the simulated shot struck a glancing blow. "Ahhhraggh!" Kurt screamed in surprise and pain as his sabre clattered to the deck. Stumbling, he fell to his knee, grabbing at the now numb extremity. Simulated blood coated his palm and for one brief moment, he was back at the circus, being jabbed over and over by stun sticks as the Friends captured him. Then, a helpful Spaniard kicked him in the face and sent him tumbling backwards. That new pain snapped Kurt back to the present. To a watcher, it's look like he fell back into the mast and exploded into smoke. Less than a blink later, he reappeared directly before the sailor who'd just shot him, a man busy reloading a musket. Kurt ducked down low and sprang forward, ramming his good shoulder into the man's gut and sending him flying over the railing into the ocean beyond. Taking a moment, holding his 'bleeding' arm, Nightcrawler called across to Forge between panting breaths, "If we didn't need... this ship, it'd be a lot... easier to blow the... powder stores, Capt'n." Tags: Forge, Icarus |
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| Marc | September 9, 2015, 8:03 am Post #13 |
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Character: Icarus Date: March 13 Time: Before Lunch Place: Utopia Danger Room Having being given the affirmative on his suggestion, Josh began applying himself as a make-shift fireman, utilizing his aerial agility paired with his visual acuity to dodge attacks, be they of the slashing or shooting variant. He grabbed a large bucket from the deck, filling it with salt-water as he flew sweep after sweep until his arms ached with strain and his wings lost some of their swiftness. He was out of shape, big time. Cooped up in Joelle’s prison facility, there had been no chance for him to exercise his wings in flight, and he realized now that he had lost a lot of the muscle tone he had so carefully built for himself over the years, during nights upon nights of flying under the cover of darkness. He needed to get back into a regime of training, or he might let his comrades and team-mates down if one day, they were forced to rely on him. As he wove through the pirates, tending to the fires that were blazing, he kept an eye out for his team-mates, amazed by Kurt’s mind-boggling agility and acrobatic skills. He was a blur amongst his enemies, his speed and endurance a sight to behold. But it became clear quickly that he was not pacing himself, not using his strength and energy economically. Josh recognized the signs from fist fights he had both been in and been a spectator to growing up in rural Kentucky. These fights were throw-down, rule-less and had little to do with professional boxing. They were no holds barred, and even as a kid, you learned early on that unless you had the bulk and brute strength to back up a quick knock-down, you needed to manage what resources in agility you had. This might prove to be an issue when Kurt exhausted himself long before a fight was over, now and in the future. Perhaps there was a way for him to work on economizing his style – did they have trained fighters here on Utopia? Or really, watching Kurt, a professional dancer choreographing their routine might be even better! Josh was just coming back in for one last swoop over the ship when he heard a pained scream that somehow, rose above the rest of the din created by everything that was screaming, hollering, croaking, creeking and roaring around them. His head snapped up and around, searching for Kurt. It took a moment to see him on his knees, grabbing at his arm that seemed to be bleeding. Already, a madly-grinning pirate made ready to put this moment of weakness to good use, raising his foot to then drive his boot heel right into Kurt’s face. The pirate was dealt with by Kurt himself who utilized his teleportation skills once more and sent the brute overboard into the churning ocean below. But even as he took care of the one, more were advancing, having licked blood now and deeming the injured foe an easy target. As they all wanted a go at him at once, they quite obviously weren’t advancing on him single file but in a tangle of roars, bodies and limbs. Josh’s mouth twitched into a grin. Aligning himself with the mass of men all rushing for Kurt, he then folded his wings onto his back, using merely his pre-existing forward momentum to maintain his flight direction, immediately gaining speed as he streamlined through the air and no longer used his feathers to slow himself down enough to steer. Mere moments before he was about to make contact face-first with one of the pirate’s butts did he throw out his wings to the side again, extending them to their full wing-span, hollering at Kurt “Duck!” as the stiff, narrow side of his wings (rather than the softly feathered broadside) swept into the men, effectively pushing them with the full force of his high-speed impact forward, driving them overboard right after their unlucky comrades. Even driving them before himself, his eyes sought Kurt. “Ya ok?” It was merely a simulation, yes, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be sore tomorrow from everything that was happening here. Tags: Nightcrawler, Forge |
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| Jesse | September 10, 2015, 1:10 pm Post #14 |
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Character: Nightcrawler Date: March 13 Time: Before Lunch Place: Utopia Danger Room The excited shouts reminded Kurt that there were still yet more Spaniards. He was exhausted, fur gleaming and slick with sweat. His sword arm hung limply at his side, still a strange combination of numb and tingling from the Danger Room’s simulated gunshot. Even his face hurt. Felt like his cheek was swelling, which made sense because he was just kicked in the face. He had enough juice to run away still, or teleport away, as the case may be. ‘OK… think smart. Fight smarter, not harder. Quick feet, quick mind.’ It was a mantra his old fencing instructor drilled into him, and something he’d been ignoring in his exuberance. He needed to think this through. In the few, fleeting seconds he had, Kurt formulated a plan. Play up the wound, appear weaker than he actually was, and wait until the last moment to teleport away. Bamph up into the rigging and slice those restraining ropes and maybe the boom will swing over and smack the guys overboard. He wasn’t really certain what forces were at work in the rigging, but it seemed as good a plan as he could come up with at this moment. ‘Duck!’ If this were a film, this would be where Kurt would turn, see Josh hurtling toward him, and in slow motion, bend over backwards so that the two mutants were facing each other as they passed by close enough to kiss with wind ruffling Kurt’s indigo hair. Instead, circus honed reflexes kicked in and the furry swashbuckler just immediately dropped to the deck, trying to catch himself in a low crouch on all fours, but only had three working limbs. Without his right hand supporting him, Kurt’s right side smacked into the floor shoulder first, eliciting a grunt of pain through gritted, jagged teeth. Spaniard boots stumbled over his prone form, tripping over and stomping on him a few times as they were propelled overboard, but nothing too awkward. Kurt was able to shield his head with his good arm, and no one got a good, if unintentional shot into his ribs. Yellow eyes peeked up and spied Josh looking down at him, asking if he was alright. He grinned up at his guardian angel. “Turns out, getting fake shot hurts. Who knew?” Before a helping hand could even be offered, Kurt rolled himself back up to his feet, arm swinging limply at his side. “Still fun though. Weird, right?” Pushing sweaty hair out of his eyes, he leaned back against the ships rail and started to say something to Josh, when his eyes widened. A fallen flintlock was swept up by his tail, tossed into his left hand, then erupted in fire and smoke as Kurt took a shot. Up on the aft castle, the rifleman who was aiming at Josh’s back, staggered, then slumped to the floor, musket clattering dully on the deck. “For the next simulation, I think I’ll cut down the number of foes to just overwhelming, instead of all the way up to ‘Are you mad?’” Tags: Forge, Icarus |
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| Marc | September 12, 2015, 6:54 pm Post #15 |
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Character: Icarus Date: March 13 Time: Before Lunch Place: Utopia Danger Room Had Josh known that Kurt already had a formulated plan all worked out, he would never have bashed in like he did. It wasn’t even his style, to be the bossy one. The one to take over. The one to call the shots. He had always had loving parents, older siblings, to take responsibility, to take charge. He didn’t know why he had, this time. All he knew was that something had kicked in at seeing Kurt down, at seeing him shot and hurt and taking a kick to the face. And so, he had gone right in, had taken charge, and in doing so, he had unknowingly stolen Kurt’s thunder. At least his plan didn’t go totally awry and any additional injuries Kurt might have incurred from the way he carried it out were comparatively minor. Still, the impact of Kurt’s injured shoulder with the planks, the pained grunt that escaped him, every additional boot-kick that Kurt suffered made Josh cringe and he hated it and it was all his fault. Of course there was nothing he could do except carry out his plan, now that it was already put in motion, seeing as how he couldn’t stop on a dime at the speed he was going. And so, he ran the gaggle of Spaniards over the rails, just like he had hoped he might. It wasn’t until he could stand over Kurt though, with Kurt grinning up at him, that he felt better. A little better, anyhow. At least Kurt was still smiling. It took the other man’s words to remind Josh, who had forgotten for just a moment, that this was not an actual mission, that these weren’t actual people, actually trying to kill them, but that this was merely a very-well executed training exercise. “Right .. Ah mean .. who knew ..” His chuckle was as much a sigh of relief as it was an actual laugh, pushing wet hair from where it was sticking to his forehead. “An’ yeah ..” This time, his laugh was an actual laugh though he found himself wondering why Kurt wasn’t accepting his hand to help him back up on his feet. “.. it’s actually still weirdly fun. Ah’m ..” He was just starting to apologize for barging in like he had when suddenly, Kurt sprang into action, startling the crap out of Josh by grabbing one of the discarded flintlocks and making it explode right next to them. Whipping around, he followed the other man’s line of sight right to where a rifleman had been taking good long aim at Josh’s back. “Ah ..” He realized he was still gaping at the now tumbling and fallen Spaniard. “Thank ya, fer ..” He waved his hands. “.. fer that.” He wasn’t going to mention that, even if this hadn’t been just a training exercise, he’d have survived getting shot in the back. Just like he had survived getting shot in the front. For a moment, his hand twitched upwards, hovering above the scar that stood brightly visible on his chest. Flopping around to lean against the rails next to Kurt, blowing out a breath as he did so, he bumped his shoulder against Kurt’s good one with a laugh. “Yah, ‘overwhelmin’ should be plenty. No need t’ jack it up t’ madness.” Alert eyes scanned the ships, finding no more Spaniards standing and the most pressing fires put out. “But Ah think we beat th’ madness, din’t we?” It looked like, at least for the very first training exercise Josh had been a part of, they had come out victorious. “C’mon ..” He nudged his shoulder against Kurt’s again. “.. let’s get yer injury put on ice. That’s gotta sting. Even ..” He leaned over and took a good hard look. “.. even if yer color’s hidin’ it very well.” As did the fuzz. “Still .. wouldn’t wan’ it t’ hurt.” He didn’t want for the other man to hurt, so putting it on ice seemed like a good option. “C’mon – Ah’m sure Forge’s AI can take care a’ th’ clean-up an’ get rid a’ all ‘em bodies fer us.” Tag: Nightcrawler but none as we are rolling over soon |
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2:13 PM Jul 11