WAITING TO WEED OUT THE WEAKLINGS—

[dipolar]

WHO? felix mcscouty and hei dipolar, the a team.
WHAT? a couple of mercs do what mercs don't do best and fight for zero cash money in return.
WHEN? just before the final boarding call on the s.s. gtfo.
ANYTHING ELSE? gratuitous violence and bluuud.

(his injuries from the week prior are lingering and his BCE's doing its best work to date trying to counter the plasma rifle devilry that'd gored him in the side. but there's also the sheer amount of blood his body's trying to scrounge for to feed his organs with to account for, the loss staggering, and fuck— do the dizzy spells ever kick him hard between the eyes. it always catches him at the most inopportune moments in the most inopportune positions, like when he's been flanked by two jackal-faced soldiers swinging energy negation rods that look like glorified goddamn billy bats.

putting these dogs down is his job now, so hei isn't too put out, but it wasn't like this before. before he could settle for taking up the spy mantle and becoming one of their operatives for the sake of COST — but they made it personal. now he has too many bones to pick and too few to take the pent-up fury out on. can a situation like this really be counted his fault, when they're the ones who cast the first stone?)

I'll rip the BCEs from your chests, (comes the low threat, spat while he chokes up on his dagger and grabs for the lip of a satchel at his hip.

now hei's smart enough to rationalize this out as a no-win scenario in his head. he may be considered self-adulating when it comes to his own abilities, but he's by no definition a prideful man — and he calls for reinforcements, just the same as these organized zombies of men do when they find themselves cornered. he does this by way of flare, striking it, raising it, letting the smoke and light cut through the fog and momentarily blind the enemies who make the mistake of staring at such an old-fashioned piece of tech.

then shouts, voice carrying well over the roar of the waves,) Two here, two on the beach!

Comments

[dipolar]

(spotting felix is a bit startling, not expecting anyone to reach him so soon, but hei factors it into his next move.

felix bum-rushes the second agent — the one who doesn't have a sizeable knife sticking out of their skull — and hei makes damn sure that hit lands with the sudden whip of his flare into the face of the jackal mask, prompting the agent to protectively raise his arms. felix's bayonet strikes home, lower back, stealing the breath out of the operative. hei watches him struggle to inhale, then two-steps it back when a dagger's pulled from its sleeve and it swipes at the air in some last ditch efforts to tag one of them.)

Before you call for help— (hei begins with a grit of teeth, lunging for the knife in order to slam a surprisingly powerful strike against the elbow joint of its arm, catching the blade before it falls from the broken grip.

and follows through with his own finalizing attack, the appropriated tip of that weapon sinking into centre chest. its armour's no match. neither is the denseness of its ribcage, digging in and up in to wedge it between bone. dead in seconds, heart blood covering hei's hands when he steps back to let it crumble with a sharp huff of a breath and an upward tilt of his chin.)

Ah. Thanks.

[mcscouty]

Eh. I was in the area.

[ One bony shoulder jerks up in a shrug as he moves to retrieve his knife. Well. Not originally his knife at all, but one he's picked up during the battle and appropriated. He'll take it back with him if he can, but as this is his first real outing he's not entirely sure how all that business works.

Seems pretty simple at the end of the day. Go here, kill x number of People We Don't Like, live to go home. Not his first day in that particular line of work.

He is taking the moment to eyeball Hei, now that they have a moment. So what's this guy's deal? ]

You look like shit.