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 Post subject: Operation Reload
Unread postPosted: Sat Apr 26, 2014 8:49 am
  

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Knight

Joined: Tue Mar 19, 2013 8:20 pm
Posts: 4916
Location: Right behind you.
Comment: Don't waste your time gloating over a wounded enemy. Pull the damn trigger.
Hey guys, repost from the All Things Forum, but Rifts related so I wanted to share here too. If you remember Operation Dead Lift, this is a more-or-less direct continuation. Hope you guys enjoy.

Spoiler:
OPERATION RELOAD
A wise man once told me the trick to life:
Get a job, keep your head down, don’t kill anyone who hasn’t got it comin’. Ain’t hard, Alrik.
Ain’t easy, either. That’s why I call it a trick.

PART ONE
No job in two months, can’t keep gas in the bike, can’t keep rounds in the guns, can’t keep whiskey or cigarettes in my mouth. Camo-armor’s still warped from the last job, vibro-knife’s more like an electric toothbrush. Defanged. Go into town, lookin’ for an easy fix.

First stop, last few creds on a shot of bourbon. Burn, baby, burn. Stagger outside and run into Crazy. Purple Mohawk and MOM-nobs, leather in all the right places, tattoos in the rest, pink eye-green eye, more metal in her face than then a ‘borg. Crazy steps into my bubble, cig on her lips, asks me if I got a light.

“I’m full of ideas.” Take her smoke, smirk in her face.

She digs it, calls me Mr. Light Bulb and cartwheels into the bar.

Crazies.

Down the street, crowd’s stopped up like Prosek’s john. Burning slag from a ground car lighting up the night, red splatter on the street that used to be a guy with flames for eyes, still smokin’. Skull heads movin’ the crowd along, nothin’ to see here. Operator and his sword-fist friend tryin’ to move the wreck onto a flatbed, got one eye on the troopers, wondering if they’ll let’m move along without trouble.

Light my smoke and walk past. Don’t crap where you eat if you don’t want Uncle Skullhead to remember your face.

Hit the pawn shop. Last place I want to be. Hate the guy who runs the place, looks like a head of broccoli with a face, smells worse. Stays in business by finding skullheads gently used gun porn at a discount. Worst kind of d-bee there is. Also the only one in town who would buy what I’m sellin’.

Broccoli-face smiles, red teeth. Not blood, natural. Sees my face, ditches his grin. “What do you want, pinky?”

“Easy, veg-head. Got a deal here.” Show him the goods, mint CP-30 with custom sights and a laser-aimer on the rail, drop rig, two spare mags. Care of Captain Coalition.*

(*see Operation Dead Lift)

Broccoli brains gooses the hardware, covetous-like. Purple pupils like a pair of orbital lasers. “Killin’ SF deadboys, huh? Movin’ up in the world.”

“Fell off the Death’s Head. How about eighteen?”

“Oh, that’s my life worth? Move along, bottom feeder.”

Broc’s got a point. Resold spec ops toys get you shot, even if you are a skullhead’s best friend. Fifteen mega joules to the face, vapor. Doesn’t mean he won’t buy it.

“It’s worth twice that to the Goon Market, thought I’d make you the offer first.”

Purple eyes narrow, “They want you dead more than I do. Twelve.”

“Wasn’t easy to get, CS officers don’t just give these away, dig? Sixteen-five.”

“Not my problem, thirteen-five.”

Put the smoke out on the counter, flick the butt. “Fourteen, and give me a job.”

Broc makes with the chuckle, but puts the brakes on. Light bulb.

PART TWO
Juicers are the biggest problem in North America. Think they’re invincible, got no concept of life or death, hyper-active roid-rage on a stick. Worst part is, any coward can be a king if he can get a Fixer to shoot’m up. Another problem, they never settle debts outside their aug contract. If you were dead in five years, would you make payments? Better question for the rest of the world, what kind of sucker gives a Juicer loan in the first place?

Juice needed e-clips, NVG, spoofers and HE rifle grenades for a job, short on cash. Broc’s the sucker who gave it to him. Job went off, done deal. Juice never ponied up.

Now I’m a repo-bot. Broc wants his due, yeah, but he’ll split it with me if I get it. More about his rep now. Can’t let people think you’ll roll over. Figures if I die, he keeps the hardware I left with him anyway. Fair trade for him.

See me, in the shanty, dark night, darker bar. Need multi-optics just to make it up the creaky steps. Got my knife, not a vibro job, silver-edge pig sticker. Got my gun, not the NE-4, old style .45, 12-shooter automatic. Juicers got the toughness, got the endurance, got the speed and the strength, but a foreign object in the brain is a bummer no matter where you come from. Just ask any Crazy.

Inside, see my target at a table. Juice is just a kid, teenager at the most. Don’t mean I’ll come away from this with all my bits and pieces. Two other jokers at the table with him, they’re drunk, probably high and I know Juice will be gung-ho as soon as I start the show.

Give the bartender a nod. Old man shakes his head and walks in the back. Come up and give Juice the friendly face. “Yo, J1*, got a smoke?”

(*Julian the First, general during the Juicer Uprising)

“**** off, squish. You got an itch? Scratch it yourself.”

Guy’s reading from an ironic script. Try not to laugh, Alrik
.
“We all got an itch, Juice. How about givin’ me what ya owe Broc instead?”

If you look hard enough you can actually see the moment when the drug harness kicks a juicer in the heart. They stop twitching, get stone calm, eyes like the grim reaper. Juice’s friends are slags, wananbes. High like an AC-29 on a bombing run, but not bio-chem fast.

“Veg-head can suck a frag”, Juice says. “And you can eat some Js*!”

(*A “J” is a joule, mega joules, the power output of most energy weapons. Fifteen to the dome is common vernacular among CS troops for I shot him in the head with my laser rifle)

Juice was sitting, had little experience, no technique, no practice and an awkward holster.
And he’ll still beat me to the draw. That’s how good bio-chem is.

But you can’t hit what you can’t see. I flipped the table at him.

Ducking low my knife is in my hand as a red beam of death passes over me, burning the table in two. Juice backs up to get a bead, but he’s off balance and I get inside his guard. Shank. Bio-chem makes pain a non-issue, feel nothing, kill everything, except when your hand is a limp slab of flesh because a knife went through the tendons in your wrist. His NG hits the floor.

The wannabes fall back in their chairs but bounce up fast and I take what I’ve got coming from Juice. The kid’s got a hell of a left and I hit the ground like sack of hammers. Fine, .45’s clear of the holster and with a squeeze and a crack wannabe #1 is spitting brains out of the back of his head. #2 has a machete, gonna blaze a trail through my guts but I roll away and stand, end up with Juice right in front of me. Kid looks a little pissed.

I hate Juicers.

Manage to take the headbutt pretty well, seein’ stars but they’re straight enough to navigate by. Dodge the knee he follows up with and put the knife in his other friend’s neck when he moves in, lose the shank when he goes to the floor. Try to shoot Juice but a kick disarms me, nearly breaks my hand. Back up to get set but the kid’s already inside my guard, don’t even see the punch but I feel it. Spin like a drunk into the bar with a limp-wristed, twenty-year-old murderface raging at me.

“You got some nerve, squish…” he ain’t even breathing hard.

“It’s the job.” I spit out some red. “Wanna dance until I kill you, or you gonna to pay up?”

No weapons, face hurts like hell, right hand’s not in any shape to fight, but I’ve been worse. Killed tougher than this guy too. Seems Juice figures that, because he looks at his two dead friends a second and he suddenly turns it down a notch. Maybe he realized he hasn’t got any interference working for him, and I got no issue with skinning him alive if I have to.

“How about I give you a chance to leave, squish. We don’t have to do this.”

I smirk and stand up straight. “Kid, you don’t wanna know how much I have to do this. Pay up or get put down.”

Best cocky look in the world, pray it works.

I see him twitch, not tension, he’s off the bio-chem, comin’ back to the real world. Drugs can give you a rush, but they can’t change who you are, and most juicers at betas at heart. It’s why they get the drugs. Doesn’t make much sense, to back down when they know they’ll die in a few years, but they do anyway.

PART THREE
Juice had Broc’s money, seems his job went off well. Slagged the Burster painting the street earlier. Didn’t tell me what the guy did, but it doesn’t matter. I took my weapons, took his creds, told Juice to tip the bartender and went back to the pawn shop.

Between the CP-30 and the job, I was finally up enough to get hammered and scrounge a new kit. Things were looking up, but it was Fixer time, pins and needles in my hand.

Clinic looks like a splugorth slave pen. Wall to wall filthy masses, hollow gazes, tension dripping like blood. Two cyber-gangers in the corner, one showing grey matter through the sub-dermal plates in his skull, face like an open curtain. I get processed and take a seat between them and a greenskin who won’t stop hacking purple and blue phlegm out of his porker-nose.

Offer the orc a smoke, he coughs and hacks, takes it like a sacred relic of his old gods.

“Tanks, human. Not all you so bad, heh?”

Eyebrow up, “You talk like an idiot on purpose or something?”

Something purple leaves his throat, ends up on the floor, “Dyin’, ’ard ta talk…” drags the cig. “Whachu ‘ere for?”

“Thought I’d stop in and hit on a few nurses.”

Orcy laughs, smoke and multi-colored mung everywhere. “Break yah ‘and justa chase da skurt, heh?”

“Had to do some juice-herding.”

Suspicion. “Oh? Da gangas ‘ere all wannabes, shoot-ups, not da chem.”

“This one was”, I light a cig for myself, kill the smell, cancer’s better than dying of the reek in this dump.

“Ahh, ya mean Din, done four gangas and a hack-rat ova tha week. Done dat burstah just tonight, yeh?”

“That kid? Juicers…” nurse appears, calls my number. “Thanks for the intel.” Leave greeny another cig and chase the skirt.

Twelve hundred creds for a Prosek-loving nano-patch. World’s a mess. Fractures are a stumble to med-tech these days, but they keep you laid out by jacking the costs. Dark Age kind of backward. Back on the street, take a walk down the barrows, worse than the shanty. Even the slag-hookers don’t like to go there, but in the ‘burbs it’s where you get cheap hardware if you don’t want to deal with Broc.

Takes a minute, but they find me. Stalkers. Not the CS psi-hounds, the wild guys, gangers. I got no ju-ju, they take a sniff but don’t bite. Ask where I can find a good deal and they point me to Warehouse 7, run by the goons of the Black Market.

Down the street, walk around human wreckage, fresh kill missin’ an arm and half his face. Cyber-pukes on the loose. Glad my implants are bio-mech, looks just like the real thing. Reach the W-7, crumpled and slanted, looks like a staggering drunk. Get to the loading dock and a pile of trash stands up, light ‘borg chassis playin’ hide and seek. Must be thermal cloaked, multi-optics didn’t see it. Ninja-‘borg.

“You got an appointment?” Nix that. Ninja-‘borg-secretary.

“Just creds.”

Seven feet of mega-steel, ceramic-laser resistant armor gets in my face, “You a joker? I don’t like jokers.”

“I’m cool, bucket-head. Let me give your boss some money so I can beat it, eh?”

Cyber-eyes whirr, casin’ my duds for hardware. Sees my lack of military boom-boom and stands aside. “Watchin’ you, fun-boy.”

Went shopping, got some decent toys. TX-5 rounds, good deal. Didn’t have plasma cartridges, picked up a Wilk’s 227 pulse instead, then an NG-R50 and a new charge for my vibro-knife. More importantly, the dealer knows a guy with camo-sheeting, gonna get my NE-C20 fixed finally. Pay the man, then bolt before he talks me into debt. Stash the rail gun and the Pump, take the 227 with me back into town.

Got a decent chunk left over. Time to get hammered.

PART FOUR
Back in the main ‘burb, city lights, flesh for sale and more booze than a Grackle Tooth can handle. I stop into What Ales You, bar full dyed hair, tattoos and slick clothes. Not my scene, but it’s More for Monday, every third drink is just one cred. Time to forget all the corpses from the past few months.

Belly up, drinks down. Not a dancer, but by round three I feel like I could show up all the scene kids stomping to the synth shakin’ the house. Stagger off to a full booth, slump down and ask the locals if they’ve ever seen a pink elephant fly, scare’m off pretty quick.

Time passes and a nice lady with fish eyes and grey skin wrapped in purple vinyl brings me more bourbon, enough that I might have to start paying rent along with my tab. Another two drinks and the tempo changes, music like a heart in panic and everyone’s shooting chem, starting to get touchy-feely. Time to go, not my gig.
Stumble through the crowd and feel a hand on my hip.

Glare over the shoulder. “You lookin’ for a busted nose, or 15 to the dome, slag?”

“Mr. Light Bulb! Yoohoo!”

Crazy gets in my bubble again and I’m too drunk to tell if she’s goosin’ me or trying to steal my gun. Her green eye says one, pink eye says both. She pushes her face into my coat, somehow comes out with one of my smokes in her mouth.

Crazies.

I smirk and stumble away, checking my pockets and sidearm and find everything there still. Get to the exit, feel a hand on my butt. Ultra-ear tells me the rest of the story.

“Where ya goin’? For a walkabout? I like long walks on the ‘burbs, I wanna come, I wanna come. Show me your plug, LB!”

Get to the door and turn around. She’s got a wandering eye, she’s in a low fighting stance, licking her chops, cigarette wagging in her lips. Hell of a way to tell a guy to make a move.

“You want a light that bad?”

She wags like a dog and I can’t keep my eyes from rolling. Lighter out, flick it on. Crazy dances around the flame like a moth, jabbing the cig at it until it finally burns, then her eyes lock onto mine I suddenly feel like prey.

Snap the lighter shut, “What now?”

She takes a drag, flicks ash, shrugs and struts off toward the bar. Yeah, she looks over her shoulder at me, but I’m a jerk, not a sucker. Pocket my lighter and walk outside.

Bumping passed more punks, my drop rig falls off my hips and I drunk-spill right after it. Crazy unfastened it when we got cozy. She also saved my bacon. As I fall over after my gun, the air lights up right where my head used to be. Laser beam turns one of the punks I walked passed into char-broil and sets the bar on fire. I roll down the steps outside and get to my feet, drunking my way across the street to avoid getting turned into a red mist.

Hover car, mega-steel. Jump behind cover and the night lights up again. Shots coming from the roof across the way. What the hell? Then pulse fire, the car heats up, liquid metal leaking off the sides. Gotta move. Draw the 227 and scan the roof. The red death stops and ultra-ear picks up the ka-chak of a rifle grenade, chambered and ready to party.

Run, Alrik.

Bolt with all I got, blood pounding my head and high explosive rips the hover car, catch frag through the shoulder, nearly takes my arm off even with the mesh-weave coat I wear. Rag-doll through the street and I know the shot’s coming, gonna die like a dog but I force myself up. Anything could happen; misfire, crappy aim, jitters. Just run and pray.

Crazy comes out of the bar, grin on her face like a Death’s Head.

“Found ya!” she calls out. “Now you’re it!” and she chucks a vial shaped micro-grenade at the building across the street.

Hell of a party favor. K-hex grenade, size of a magic marker, boom like a fusion block. I drop and cover up.

The sky ignites into a high explosive fire-storm and the sonic boom rattles my teeth. Building is slagged bricks and girders, I’m covered in dust and bits of vehicles and people.

Hack up the grit in my throat, stand and use the multi-optics. Too much heat from the building, no joy. Crazy’s practically rolling on the ground giggling as people start to pick themselves up. I’m not psychic, but I still have a bad feeling. This isn’t over.

Find my 227 and keep behind cover, get to Crazy.

She kills her laughter. “Hiya, ‘B.”

“Get up, don’t think you got’m.”

She does a kick up and cartwheels into me, knocking us both down with her on top. “Now…who didn’t I get?”

I don’t get to answer, the ground car we’re behind gets cut in two by laser fire, barely misses Crazy. Singes her mohawk and she squeals, puts her hair out and a six-shooter appears in her hand from nowhere, then she’s up and gone.

Feelin’ like a slag after a three-day bender, struggle upright and hear the exchange of fire. Shouldn’t be here, the skullheads will be arriving any minute, but Crazy is fighting for me, or for her, either way I know it’s Din, juice-boy, out there trying to kill me. Can’t quit.

Poke out from the wreckage, see Din. Bleeding from every inch, his juice-plate is nearly a memory. I’d be dead if I were him, but the bio-chem pushes you on. No pain, kill’m all. Crazy’s got his right arm wrenched, presses her Wilk’s single action into his neck, but he flows out of her grip and trips her with a sweep and his NG-45 comes out with his left hand, the right still useless.

I flick the 227 over to pulse and try to carve him up. He’s not even looking my way but he ducks and shoots Crazy point blank. She cares about as much as he would. Her leathers burn, tattoed flesh melting but she just laughs and empties her revolver like a cowboy. Din dances back, armor saved him from shot he didn’t evade. I fire again, spray shots and he has to pay attention to me or suck on Js.

Din snaps a shot at me, but I’m already on the move. My right arm won’t stay steady, frag is melting my shoulder, but I’m not bad with my left. Take a shot and it penetrates the armor on his leg and he staggers, screamin’ anger. Crazy goes for the kill with a wicked looking vibro-blade but he catches her arm, throws her, catches the blade as it flies from her hand and stabs into her chest.

Crap.

Then Juice rips it out and throws it at me.

Crappier.

The vibration-active edge cuts into the mesh armor of my long coat, but I stayed on the move. Indirect hit. Lose a little meat and hit the pavement, but still alive. Easy days.

“You coulda been lucky”, I hear him say as he walks over. “Coulda just died from the first shot.”

He’s standing over me before I even get to my knees. Puts a boot in my face. Loose teeth, roll over and play dead.

“No, no…we ain’t done. I thought about how you left me there, lookin’ like a punk. Ya know what? You were right to, I was a punk.” Hands grab my collar, I’m floating, lose grip on the 227. “I let some squish, some ****** squishy make me think he could take me out, like I’m some kinda chump. Well, guy, I’d let this be a lesson, but ya ain’t gonna be around to live an’ learn, dig?”

“Problem is, you are a chump.”

He rips his helmet off so he can show me how ticked off he is. Juicers for ya, roid-rage on a stick, aggressive and overconfident. Think yer a god, kid? Bet he’d crap himself if he’d seen half of what I been through.

“You just bought yourself another minute of life, squish”, he says, spittle in my face. “And I’m gonna make it all pain!” Alrik, meet pavement. Pleasure as always. Might have a skull fracture, can’t see straight. Not good.

Go for the .45, Din’s not wearin’ his bucket, a slug will do him. Too slow, he breaks my hand again and tosses the pistol.

“What a joke, this is all you got?” and I’m airborne, tumble down the rubble pile that was the building across the way. Roll over, cough up blood, but manage to stand. Juice seems impressed. “Well, you wanna dance until you die now, huh?”

Smirk, draw the vibro-knife. Sick of this guy. “Come on over, see what happens.”

He charges, gotta be runnin’ 50mph. Dodge a meat hook, miss the counter, have to back away and still take a glancing blow in the ribs. Next one is in the leg, then the face. Half hits, keeping him on the offensive. Wearing me down but he doesn’t like it. He goes for my knife, good move, sucker. No experience, no technique. No left hand either, counter with the vibro-blade and pitch his digits into the slagged rubble.

Juice backs off but I don’t let him recover. He can still kill me, break my neck with a good kick. He tries to bolt, get distance and strategize but the knife leaves my left hand and the vibration field touches the side of his head. It sinks in to the hilt, turns his skull into a cut-away study of brain matter, face cut clean off. His body doesn’t stop twitching as I pass it, heart still hammering blood, spraying a crimson bouquet on the pavement.

Check on Crazy.

Still alive. Looks like sub-dermal plating on her breastbone turned instant kill into slow death. Fresh red running down her cheeks, pumpin’ from her chest. She pants, green eye open, pink closed, covered in blood.

“Hi.”

I slump down next to her. “Thanks.”

“Sure…thank you too.”

“No problem.”

Her lip quirks, “No…for luring him out. Bounty.”

Of course. He’s done five people in a week. Someone would want him dead.

“Collect for me?” she asks, trying keep her breath steady.

I nod.

“G-goo…d. Can’t go…this…really hurts…”

Yeah. Hurts me too. It suddenly occurred to me, looking at her then, that Crazy was probably sixteen at the oldest. Kids.

“S-see…ya…LB.”

Now she’s a ghost. Get up, see Cyber-Rats watchin’ from the shadows, knives ready to claim the choice implants off the dead. Look at Crazy’s body and feel my guts tangle. Sorry, girl. Stumble over to Juice, pick up his face, stick it in my coat pocket, find my weapons and make sure to grab Crazy’s blade.

Stagger and bleed my way out of there, don’t turn around to see the Rats descend on the feast.

_________________
Mark Hall wrote:
Y'all seem to assume that Palladium books are written with the same exacting precision with which they are analyzed. I think that is... ambitious.

Talk from the Edge: Operation Dead Lift, Operation Reload, Operation Human Devil, Operation Handshake, Operation Windfall 1, Operation Windfall 2, Operation Sniper Wolf, Operation Natural 20


Last edited by Alrik Vas on Sat Apr 26, 2014 5:54 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: Operation Reload
Unread postPosted: Sat Apr 26, 2014 12:10 pm
  

User avatar
Priest

Joined: Tue Sep 02, 2003 8:19 pm
Posts: 42843
Location: Somewhere between Heaven, Hell, and New England
More fun from the front lines on the Street. :bandit: :ok:

_________________
-------------
"Trouble rather the Tiger in his Lair,
Than the Sage among his Books,
For all the Empires and Kingdoms,
The Armies and Works that you hold Dear,
Are to him but the Playthings of the Moment,
To be turned over with the Flick of a Finger,
And the Turning of a Page"

--------Rudyard Kipling
------------


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 Post subject: Re: Operation Reload
Unread postPosted: Sat Apr 26, 2014 5:49 pm
  

User avatar
Knight

Joined: Tue Mar 19, 2013 8:20 pm
Posts: 4916
Location: Right behind you.
Comment: Don't waste your time gloating over a wounded enemy. Pull the damn trigger.
Thanks for reading, taal. Though, if ya don't mind me asking, what do you think of the lingo i use? Does it seem Rifty enough?

Also, do you like the social commentary on Juicers? :P

_________________
Mark Hall wrote:
Y'all seem to assume that Palladium books are written with the same exacting precision with which they are analyzed. I think that is... ambitious.

Talk from the Edge: Operation Dead Lift, Operation Reload, Operation Human Devil, Operation Handshake, Operation Windfall 1, Operation Windfall 2, Operation Sniper Wolf, Operation Natural 20


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 Post subject: Re: Operation Reload
Unread postPosted: Sat Apr 26, 2014 5:51 pm
  

User avatar
Hero

Joined: Fri Apr 25, 2014 11:03 pm
Posts: 938
Location: Nxla-Mart. Free zombie with $10 purchase.
Alrik Vas wrote:
Hey guys, repost from the All Things Forum, but Rifts related so I wanted to share here too. If you remember Operation Dead Lift, this is a more-or-less direct continuation. Hope you guys enjoy.


Very, very nice. Good writing, Sir. :-D

_________________
Kryptt wrote:
Very well said sir. I believe you just won the internet. :bandit:


cyber-yukongil v2.5 wrote:
I don't think anything could ever be said better. :ok:


Hide our face behind a mask contrived to lose ourselves a thousand times inside. This is where we've drawn the line. There's nothing else to give but what you see; only sacrifice of blood and tears. - VNV Nation, Off Screen


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 Post subject: Re: Operation Reload
Unread postPosted: Sat Apr 26, 2014 5:53 pm
  

User avatar
Knight

Joined: Tue Mar 19, 2013 8:20 pm
Posts: 4916
Location: Right behind you.
Comment: Don't waste your time gloating over a wounded enemy. Pull the damn trigger.
Thanks, mate. Welcome to the boards as well. :bandit:

_________________
Mark Hall wrote:
Y'all seem to assume that Palladium books are written with the same exacting precision with which they are analyzed. I think that is... ambitious.

Talk from the Edge: Operation Dead Lift, Operation Reload, Operation Human Devil, Operation Handshake, Operation Windfall 1, Operation Windfall 2, Operation Sniper Wolf, Operation Natural 20


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 Post subject: Re: Operation Reload
Unread postPosted: Sat Apr 26, 2014 7:35 pm
  

User avatar
Palladin

Joined: Wed Jun 20, 2012 11:32 am
Posts: 6675
Location: 'Murica
Comment: Avid Cyborg and Braka Braka enthusiast.
Great as always. This guy is 1980's tough.


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 Post subject: Re: Operation Reload
Unread postPosted: Sat Apr 26, 2014 9:16 pm
  

User avatar
Knight

Joined: Tue Mar 19, 2013 8:20 pm
Posts: 4916
Location: Right behind you.
Comment: Don't waste your time gloating over a wounded enemy. Pull the damn trigger.
Well, SDC is John Wayne/Clint Eastwood mode, so yeah.

_________________
Mark Hall wrote:
Y'all seem to assume that Palladium books are written with the same exacting precision with which they are analyzed. I think that is... ambitious.

Talk from the Edge: Operation Dead Lift, Operation Reload, Operation Human Devil, Operation Handshake, Operation Windfall 1, Operation Windfall 2, Operation Sniper Wolf, Operation Natural 20


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 Post subject: Re: Operation Reload
Unread postPosted: Sat May 10, 2014 4:26 am
  

User avatar
Palladin

Joined: Wed Jun 20, 2012 11:32 am
Posts: 6675
Location: 'Murica
Comment: Avid Cyborg and Braka Braka enthusiast.
No I mean that whole rugged badass thing.


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 Post subject: Re: Operation Reload
Unread postPosted: Sat May 10, 2014 11:27 am
  

User avatar
Knight

Joined: Tue Mar 19, 2013 8:20 pm
Posts: 4916
Location: Right behind you.
Comment: Don't waste your time gloating over a wounded enemy. Pull the damn trigger.
I know, I was agreeing. :P

_________________
Mark Hall wrote:
Y'all seem to assume that Palladium books are written with the same exacting precision with which they are analyzed. I think that is... ambitious.

Talk from the Edge: Operation Dead Lift, Operation Reload, Operation Human Devil, Operation Handshake, Operation Windfall 1, Operation Windfall 2, Operation Sniper Wolf, Operation Natural 20


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 Post subject: Re: Operation Reload
Unread postPosted: Thu May 15, 2014 5:05 am
  

Explorer

Joined: Sat Dec 07, 2013 2:26 pm
Posts: 139
I would really like to see this guy get involved in some magic. It'd be cool to see how he would deal with something he wouldn't understand. He's clearly a veteran (or at least, as close as an average person can get in Rifts), but having him deal with a situation he had no experience with would put him on his toes.


Very well done. I really enjoyed reading it.


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 Post subject: Re: Operation Reload
Unread postPosted: Thu May 15, 2014 2:09 pm
  

User avatar
Palladin

Joined: Wed Jun 20, 2012 11:32 am
Posts: 6675
Location: 'Murica
Comment: Avid Cyborg and Braka Braka enthusiast.
I'm holding out for an Alric and PowerSurge crossover :/ now we just gotta find the brains of the operation. lol


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 Post subject: Re: Operation Reload
Unread postPosted: Fri May 16, 2014 4:12 pm
  

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Knight

Joined: Tue Mar 19, 2013 8:20 pm
Posts: 4916
Location: Right behind you.
Comment: Don't waste your time gloating over a wounded enemy. Pull the damn trigger.
sinsaint wrote:
I would really like to see this guy get involved in some magic. It'd be cool to see how he would deal with something he wouldn't understand. He's clearly a veteran (or at least, as close as an average person can get in Rifts), but having him deal with a situation he had no experience with would put him on his toes.


Very well done. I really enjoyed reading it.

I've been considering that for the next one. Though since these are based off games I've played, I'll have to pick a good one. I grouped with plenty of magic users, I'll have to pick a good session.

Thanks for reading!

Edit: I have a previous adventure called Operation Dead Lift. It has more of what you're talking about. Thigh I'm still going to write a new story.

_________________
Mark Hall wrote:
Y'all seem to assume that Palladium books are written with the same exacting precision with which they are analyzed. I think that is... ambitious.

Talk from the Edge: Operation Dead Lift, Operation Reload, Operation Human Devil, Operation Handshake, Operation Windfall 1, Operation Windfall 2, Operation Sniper Wolf, Operation Natural 20


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