Round 84: The Kidnapping of Tiffany Jamesson

[midpointmods]

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.

Comments

[worthallthis]

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.

[ragingwolf]

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.

[worthallthis]

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.

[ragingwolf]

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.

[worthallthis]

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.

[ragingwolf]

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.

[worthallthis]

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.)

[ragingwolf]

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.

[worthallthis]

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.

[ragingwolf]

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.

[worthallthis]

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.

[ragingwolf]

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.

[chalicejoker]

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.

[ragingwolf]

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."

[chalicejoker]

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.

[ragingwolf]

"We're gonna go and find the others. Make sure Tiffany's alright, and the others haven't gotten to her first." He trusts Irene because he has to, but that doesn't mean she's fully prepared for whoever else might be on the sniper's team.

[chalicejoker]

Ryo wriggles out from under the trough and Fuwa would be well-served to pick him up and give him a cuddle; he's still trembling. "Want to help! Hajime would want to win!" And there's a little sniffle at that too.

[ragingwolf]

Fuwa's not. Good. At being soft. He can barely manage being calm most days.

It's not much, but he still goes to lift the puppy form up and cradles him in one arm against his chest. Almost more like a sack of potatoes than how you would a dog, but he doesn't feel comfortable with both hands preoccupied. "Right. And we're gonna do our best to do it. We just need to find Irene and Tiffany."

[chalicejoker]

Don't worry, Fuwa, Ryo hangs out with Hajime. He's well versed with guys who are absolutely terrible at being in touch with their softer sides! He snuggles right into that arm. He's still shaking, but it's a lot lessened now. "If wait until dark, I can help!" He doesn't really want to go now, and, besides, there are reasons for that. "Have owl form! Could go look all sneaky-like! But suspicious in the daytime."