midpointsaloon | Round 84: The Kidnapping of Tiffany Jamesson

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Round 84: The Kidnapping of Tiffany Jamesson

PLAYERS: Isamu Fuwa, Quicksword Irene, Hajime Aikawa VS. Bucky Barnes, Daylight vis Lornlit, Inara Serra
LOCATION: Tycoons' Depot
GOAL: Assume and maintain custody of Tiffany Jamesson
WARNINGS: Kidnapping, attempted murder, sex work mentions
OTHER: OOC post for plotting and questions!

After traveling most of the day, the sun is starting to set when the two teams reach Tycoons' Depot. Who arrives first depends on how quickly the teams get up and organized that morning, and how hard they want to push their horses.

The active portion of the round doesn’t start until the next morning, anyway. After scouting around and making plans, everyone can enjoy a room at the Bullion Inn under the watchful eye of the Madame (for a crisp points price, of course), camp rough just outside town, or bully or bribe one of the locals into letting them borrow their home for the night. Looking around proves there are, in fact, a number of possibly empty houses around the town’s outskirts, if the players would like to brave one of those.

In the morning, it’s time to go. Tiffany Jamesson, a sixteen year old girl with a brilliant smile and auburn hair done up in ringlets, has horseback riding at nine in full-on cowgirl attire, lunch at noon and piano lessons at one in a yellow dress of frothy lace, a nap from three to four when the day is at its hottest, and then dinner with her father at six in a pretty pink affair before retiring for the night afterwards. When will the kidnappers strike? When will the protectors show their hand? The teams have three days in which to accomplish their goal. The clock is ticking.

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"I'll be ready for that," Hajime says grimly as he continues on in a way that would probably be more convincing if he bothered to even come close to attempting to prance or do anything that wasn't an irritable close-to-stomping-but-not-quite. "Ryo's ready too." In that Ryo knew that he'd have to get the hell out of there once things got bad.

"Keeping an eye out!" Ryo says. "Looking real close! Smelling too!"

There's been a few sightings of the giant robot-man around Tiffany's house... but Soldat has been completely out of sight since their first night's recon, and Inara blends in well, so unless she's directly under their view, it's hard to pick her out from the variety of rotating human extras in town. Soldat, unlike Fuwa, knows all the normal sniper nests around Tycoon Depot, and actually makes new ones of his own by virtue of seventy years of practice at it.

Currently he's on top of the nearby shop, hidden safely behind the decorative sign, his rifle resting on the (safely gloved and sleeved, so there's no betraying glint in the sunlight) metal hand, waiting for the right shot. (Jesus, is that dog Ryo? Fuwa said he could shapeshift. So. Maybe. Fuck. Yeah, I know. No. Gotta do it, Asset. No. ... I know.)

If it wasn't Daylight and Inara's first time, they might well just throw the match. Let Fuwa's team win. This is the next best option for the two of them, and for Fuwa. (Maybe we'll... spot them some points or something. Hajime and Ryo. Maybe.)

As Hajime-as-Tiffany stamps out from behind a hanging pot that had been blocking him from Soldat's line of sight, Soldat aims, breathes out, and fires for the spot right below the rim of that bonnet: directly between his eyes. (I'm sorry, pal.)

Hajime just barely has time for his Undead ~~plot bullshit senses~~ senses to spring to full alert for half a second before he goes down and learns that yes, Undead really can die here and the Tiger Undead wasn't just screwing with him.

This may be alarmingly green to anyone in the area.

None are more alarmed than Ryo. The puppy makes a noise that is something between a scream and a sad puppy yelp, and then he just starts absolutely howling at the top of his lungs as he sits there trying to process what just happened.

There's nothing Fuwa can do but stare when Hajime suddenly drops, splattering-- green on the ground - but he's a trained fucking professional.

"Naki!"

With a bit of help.

Fuwa's body goes unnaturally still, and he stands loosely at attention. He can feel a splitting headache forming, as the Humagear looks around sharply, tapping into the nearby cameras they can detect - and then stares directly at Soldat's hiding spot.

"Sniper located." There's a strange edge to his voice, soft and flat.

Then he jerks, and Fuwa is ripping open his Progrise key before he starts running, slamming it into his ShotRiser as he shouts, "You bastard!"

Honestly, green blood isn't the weirdest thing Soldat has seen. They take it in stride, only wince a little at Ryo's howling, and pointedly do not aim the rifle for Fuwa. Or the puppy. They set it gently aside, tucked under a tarp, to retrieve later, and pull out a knife.

Time to let Fuwa find them and beat on them a while.

And then Fuwa's found him. That was faster than anticipated. And that voice was... very Asset-like. (Did we sound that creepy? Yes. ... yeah, I guess we did.)

Soldat jumps down to land heavily in the street. The bystanders are all fleeing, well aware of what is likely to go down now. Some duck into nearby shops to watch, like idiots. They'll have to keep a sliver of attention on them to make sure there aren't any casualties. Besides themselves and Hajime, anyway.

Fuwa fires when the sniper leaps (cutting off the repeating rhythm of Kamen~ Rider~), and his shot glances off the man's metal arm to ricochet wildly back so Fuwa can throw a fist into it and transform. His armour is fully in place in moments, so he can rush in and try to punch the sniper in the fucking face as hard as he can. He's not even talking, just grunting in pure rage as he goes for the hits.

Moments, maybe, but that would still be plenty of time to get a shot off, if Soldat had bothered to get out another gun. They aren't going to make it easy for Fuwa-- because the guy will surely be able to tell, and it would probably only make him more angry-- but they're not aiming to kill anyone else today.

They block the punch with the metal arm, because they saw it coming a mile away, and angle the arm enough to let it glance aside rather than trying to take the full force of it. Just in case there's enhancements in that armor. The flesh hand has the knife in it, and they slash precisely at Fuwa's helmeted face. They've honestly got no idea what this armor is like, structure-wise, but the punch didn't feel like metal. Maybe it'll take a knife.

Even the glancing punch has a solid impact to it - close to something Soldat might deliver himself. Fuwa sees the knife, but doesn't move in time to avoid it slashing across his helmet; a flash of sparks streaks across his visor with the hideous shriek of metal on ceramic.

He goes to grab the flesh wrist, though, shoving his arm up as he swings his gun in, pressing it against the sniper's chest and firing point-blank, as many times as he can before the man shakes him. He's not planning to back out of close combat range, he's too confident in his armour and he wants the sniper to fucking eat it.

Edited 2020-05-21 11:58 (UTC)

Fuwa is not messing around. But Soldat can't let it be over too quickly, either. They need this distraction to last long enough for Daylight and Inara to get past Irene and get Tiffany. And also, for Fuwa to actually get out some of his anger.

So they're grabbed, but they can't take multiple bullets to the chest just yet. Not even the tactical vest under their flannel will completely protect him from that. Instead, they twist aside, turning fluidly outward so that Fuwa's grip on their arm is now over their shoulder, and use said grip on their arm to try and throw him, using their shoulder (and super-strength) as leverage.

The twist gets an annoyed grunt, that turns into a yelp when he's hauled over Soldat's shoulder and flung at top speed down the street.

He hits the ground rolling, ignoring the screams of people scattering at his sudden proximity, and scrambles back to his feet, already yanking his second - and only other - key off the holster at his belt, ripping it open somewhat awkwardly with his gun still in hand, and jams it in to fire at the sniper. Another bullet whips around Soldat, and this time Fuwa backhands it, and the wolf armour gets changed out for gorilla-like body armour.

He lifts both hulking forearms over his head with a furious roar, and when he slams them both down into the ground the immediate area trembles violently, and he launched from the crater he just made to try and swing at Soldat's chest. The attack is slower, it's immediately apparent, but with a much more dangerous sense of momentum behind it.

Well hell. They can see the weight behind those gloves. They jump back, letting the swinging fist connect with the ground where they stood, and dive back in to try and use the rest of Fuwa's momentum-- and their own heavy, metal fist-- to smash his face into the ground. Helmet or not, hopefully that disorients him a little.

Fuwa has taken far worse than a mere knock to the head at this point. He's almost died in his suit more times than he cares to count.

So while his head being slammed into the ground hard enough to crater the dirt again is inconvenient, it's certainly not disabling. He struggles under Soldat's grip, but manages to get both sets of armoured knuckles on the ground - there's the sound of something whirring at intense speeds in the shoulder pads, a sharp hiss of steam from both, and he very slowly starts pushing himself up against the sniper's fist, until he's on all fours, and he snaps one fist out to try and break Soldat's leg.

Soldat was only aiming for one face-slam, not to hold him down. So they're dancing back well before that fist can connect. Get up, Fuwa. Come at him again. Let's see what else that power-suit of yours can do.

They have another gun. It's in a holster on their hip. They're clearly not pulling it out, instead flipping their knife over in the flesh hand to be ready for a slash if and when Fuwa charges.

This form can do two things well: punch shit and take hits. And since Soldat keeps dancing out of his damn range, neither of those are particularly working.

Let's escalate.

He pulls his ShotRiser out again, and slams one fist on top of it, hitting a button of some sort that makes it shout "POWER", and the barrel starts glowing with a pulsing, growing light: he spreads his legs, bracing himself as he lifts the gun out sideways, bringing it in front of him to hold it with both hands, and aims directly at Soldat.

When he fires, both fists rocket off, rushing around each other like guided missiles towards Soldat, one after the other in quick succession.

Not what one expects when a gun is aimed at them, really. Soldat manages to swat the first flying fist out of the air with the metal arm, diverting it into a pile of barrels that promptly explode, water spraying everywhere all over the cobbled street and the buildings along it. The arm doesn't like it, and if they weren't expecting to come back to life good as new after the round, they'd expect do have to do maintenance on it.

There's not time to deflect the second, and they can only side-step it enough for it to slam into the metal shoulder instead of the middle of their chest. The force of it sends them spinning and stumbling, hitting the ground with one knee and the flesh hand, and a grunt. Jesus, that hurt. The jacket they'd been using to hide the arm is shredded now, singed all across the shoulder and just plain missing over the arm itself, and bloody where the metal meets flesh. Tearing the arm off isn't possible, not with the extensive metal anchoring along their skeleton, but that sure did make a go of it. Every piece of scaffolding burns inside their body.

They need to hold out a little longer. The gun comes out as soon as they hit the cobbles, in the metal hand, which whines like its overheating at each movement but continues to function. Soldat fires three bullets at Fuwa: aiming for right shoulder, now-ungauntleted forearm, and knee. Nothing that will kill him even if it causes damage.

The water barrels explode, but the gauntlet doesn't stop - it charges through the walls of the building behind them without slowing down as it makes its back back to Fuwa. The second fist is a bit slower, having been deflected directly upwards, but it gets back on course and slam back into place on Fuwa's arms.

The bullet in his shoulder doesn't make him flinch, but it sets off a small spark of smoke. The one in his arm makes it flinch slightly, but it's the knee shot that hits home, and he lets out a sharp yelp of pain as he stumbles in pain, almost dropping into a kneel - but he still has his gun in hand and fires back quickly - two at the soldier's breaking, bloodied shoulder and one in the ribs as he forces himself to stand back up and start rushing him again.

Ribs are protected. The tactical vest takes the hit, and it'll leave a bruise and a cracked rib, but no bloody holes. The shoulder is the vulnerable point, with the vest damaged and the metal overheated, and takes a bullet lodged right in against the metal supports under the skin. Soldat doesn't cry out; they're too conditioned against reacting to pain, even now. It still hurts worse than anything they've felt since the Chair, the cattle prods. Or the Words. Or Bad Jail. But it still hurts.

Worse, it means the metal arm is all but useless, the connection to their brain fizzing in and out through the burning and grinding of muscle, bone, and metal. They stay down on their knees, and brute-force it up to protect their head, but that's the best they can do. They fire a few more times as Fuwa charges, but without really aiming.

(Hope we lasted long enough for the others to get the girl. Me, too. You sure you wanna do this? Hell of a time to ask, Sarge. Yes.)

One bullet pings off his armour in another firecracker flash, but most of the rest hit the ground as he rushes in, left hand swinging back, and he skids to a halt mere inches from the sniper to delivery maximum momentum into a truly monstrous uppercut - the fist sinks into the tactical armour like it's nothing and still has enough force to lift Soldat completely off the ground, throwing the man completely into the air.

And while he's up there, Fuwa's right hand comes up and slams into him again, hard enough that something's guaranteed to crack - if not from the immediate impact into his side, then definitely from when it slams him through a railing and deep into the side of a building.

Soldat lays amidst the wreckage for a moment, dazed, only semi-conscious and half-propped against the hole they made in the wall. Not dead. Lots of broken bones-- ribs, they catalogue blankly; collarbone; both bones in the forearm; one bone in the left leg-- definite internal bleeding, definite external bleeding as there's a large splinter of wood in their cheek and another in their thigh... but not dead yet. They can take a lot of punishment, clearly.

Which means they can't let Fuwa walk away yet. Not entirely remembering why in the midst of their banged up head, but knowing it's important, they struggle the metal arm into some semblance of use despite the angry whine of servos warning that there's serious damage in there somewhere, and throw a knife in Fuwa's general direction. It misses by a long shot, because they can't properly focus their eyes, but it's a sign that they're not dead yet.

Not dead yet. Come and finish the job, Fuwa.

Edited (better icon) 2020-05-23 08:55 (UTC)

Fuwa hasn't taken his eyes off of Soldat yet, even as he stands up straight himself; he can see the man struggling to move, and the helmet betrays no emotion as he watches the knife fall short a few feet away from his feet.

His grip tightens on the ShotRiser, but first he pulls out the Progrise key it contains.

In a loud hissing of pistons and a flash of energy, the gorilla-like armour disappears - and when it all disappears, Fuwa is already poised with his gun trained on the sniper. His expression isn't... angry, as such. It still is, but there's something deeper to it. Betrayal, disappointment.

There's no catharsis in killing a dying person.

His finger tightens on the trigger. It's point blank range - there's no missing this.

Bold of you to assume that with time and care, Soldat couldn't make a full recovery. It would be hell, but this isn't fatal wounding. A few pressure bandages and support for the ribs and broken leg, maybe an hour for the vision to come back, and they could be field-ready.

They'd hate it, it would hurt a hell of a lot, but they could.

Which is why finally focusing on Fuwa's face-- not just the armor-- is both something to dread and something to be relieved for. He's going to kill them. Surely it's been long enough, Daylight and Inara are probably well away from Irene now. And there's no much they can do at this point, anyway. They just make their breathing as even as possible, their eyes as focused on Fuwa's face as possible, and let him shoot them right in the fucking face.

They've died before. Current world standard protocols mean before Fuwa can even approach to verify a pulse, the body will be collected. It starts to dissolve and disappear as Soldat's awareness bleeds out the bullethole into their brain.

They both know it's just easier to die. No wasting time healing injuries and holding back whichever team you were on in future. It's the only way Fuwa's been able to justify this to himself, time and time again. Better to suffer briefly than over the months it would take for that many injuries to heal.

The fact that such a poised kill after a breakneck battle will net him bonus points genuinely doesn't factor in.

He only lowers his gun when the sniper's body vanishes. There's a limp when he moves forward to pick up the knife the sniper had thrown at him - one of the man's modern ones, rather than the half-rusted scraps they get here - and tucks it into his coat pocket, before he finally turns back and goes to check on Ryo. The poor mantis was probably devastated.

Ryo's absolutely devastated and absolutely terrified after the body vanished in the midst of his sad puppy howling. He's run for cover under a watering trough, and there are clear puppy tracks in the dirt road leading to his hiding spot, where he's huddling, and, if the tracks weren't enough of a sign of his location, whimpering too.

Well, at least he's easy to find still.

"Oi, Ryo." His voice isn't harsh - he actually sounds almost gentle, as he kneels down beside the puppy paws under the trough. When he leans down he can see the small puppy. "It's alright. I kicked that bastard's ass, so he can't get us."

Ryo sniffles a little. "Thank you..." He still seems hesitant to come out. "Don't know what to do now!" He's about two steps away from frantic puppy sobbing, really.

Round 84: The Kidnapping of Tiffany Jamesson

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