run over the bones of the dead . den heist
Mar 18, 2022 15:51:52 GMT -5
Post by pogue on Mar 18, 2022 15:51:52 GMT -5
Whiplash Gamble stands with one foot on the decaying edge of the Junkwall, hazel eyes peering down at the lands below and feeling it stare back in might and malice. The mutts roam absently across the dust and the dirt, all deadly howls and raised hair on their backs, anger dripping from bared fangs in the form of scarlet drool. Whiplash tests the waters for a moment, heartbeat hammering in his chest as he grabs an empty beer can from the scraps of the wall, examines the title that's scrawled faded all over it.
"Probably tasted like shit anyways." He mutters, tossing it into the air with accuracy unmatched and watching it fall and fall and fall to the ground below, landing with a dull thud that he hardly hears but fully sees the impact of. Immediately the mutts near the sound turn their attention towards it, then their fangs and then their claws, scratching into the dust and the dirt until their attention spans run dry again. What's left in its wake is a memorial and a warning, the ground torn to shreds and the remnants of a beer can all but gone.
"Ya think this's a bad idea?" He throws the words to Isaac, feels them fall into the dead air between them before he looks over, away from the yellow eyes of the mutt as it loses interest in their forms. Isaac stares out towards the spanning landscape, their mech suit standings stoic behind them and casting a menacing shadow over his form, dancing and flickering as the yellow clouds block and obscure the sun's glare above. His ally shrugs in response, "Everything's a bad idea in here." hitting his ears and Whiplash nods solemnly, feeling his stomach sink a little lower.
He'd taken unfound pride in putting the pieces together of a plan desperate to fail, one part fading weaponry and one part eyeing the prize of a snake pit below them and one part thinning braincells clacking around in his head. He'd never been the smartest tool in the shed and he knew that, all bloody knuckles and cracked teeth instead of discussions and decisions.
It's why he'd felt pride bubble up in his gut when he'd routed the path down the Junkwall and into the Den, over the mutts and to the piles of ammunition that sit across the way, rocket boosters and adrenaline engaged in full. He'd cracked a devil's grin when he'd announced it, traced a lifeline in the air with his finger through the Den and waited for the same applause that sprints through his veins after every show, cracked whip still echoing in the air and roses thrown at his feet.
Instead, silence had dragged sharpened claws against his skin, goosebumps and raised hairs left in its wake. "Sounds like a deathwish." Kareem's words dug into his back life a knife, pulled vertical up until scarlet heavens spilled out. Izzy'd sat in a land none of them knew, eyes glazed over and watching the sky ebb and flow above, and Isaac? Eyebrow arched and a laugh slipping out. "So, you're out?" and Kareem had confirmed with tongue-in-cheek and a sigh between his lips, distrust and a stolen knife on both of their minds.
He can't really blame him, but he does anyways.
Pride he refuses to let go of and a sense stubbornness that refuses to let go of him means that he'd decided to do it anyways.
"Alrigh', let's get after it." He says solemnly, taking one last look at the mission before them before nodding to Isaac and making his way towards his mech. The suit taunts him, rusted metal and years of battles he'd never learn about carved into the steel. He climbs in it and feels its pulse, an echo of a heartbeat shaking through the suit as it comes to life and tightens around his limbs, claiming his life as its own and the static of the HUD on the helmet fading softly into view. "Izzy, sweets-" He hears his voice slip into the static and turns towards his ally, catches sight of her sitting with the mechs walkie-talking sitting in her hands. She'd refused to get into the suit, claiming a different world told her it wasn't them inside of it.
Rose stuck between his teeth, all the suave of a gentleman that Willow Wisp had taught him to be, he'd convinced her to help them out with faux-love written into his words. Kareem had looked at him like it was manipulation. "Ya keep an eye on the mutts for us, alrigh'? Make sure we're outta harms way."
Maybe Kareem was right.
He forces the feeling down as he turns back towards the edge of the Junkwall, engages the grappling hook he'd salvaged from the remains of the wall and installed into his suit, familiarity written into every swing. There's a bright red button on the forearm of the mech that has been calling his name since he'd first found it, fading print of a rocket symbol hanging on by a thread against the hands of time. He might be dumb, but he can put two and two together for that one.
"Ay, lion boy. Get ready to roar." He calls to his ally next to him, gulping down sandpaper and spit before he slams his palm into the button. Immediately the suit roars to life, clamors against his skin and screams as if it'd been waiting for this moment for centuries.
P A B S T B L U E R I B B O N
"What'll you have?"
"Probably tasted like shit anyways." He mutters, tossing it into the air with accuracy unmatched and watching it fall and fall and fall to the ground below, landing with a dull thud that he hardly hears but fully sees the impact of. Immediately the mutts near the sound turn their attention towards it, then their fangs and then their claws, scratching into the dust and the dirt until their attention spans run dry again. What's left in its wake is a memorial and a warning, the ground torn to shreds and the remnants of a beer can all but gone.
"Ya think this's a bad idea?" He throws the words to Isaac, feels them fall into the dead air between them before he looks over, away from the yellow eyes of the mutt as it loses interest in their forms. Isaac stares out towards the spanning landscape, their mech suit standings stoic behind them and casting a menacing shadow over his form, dancing and flickering as the yellow clouds block and obscure the sun's glare above. His ally shrugs in response, "Everything's a bad idea in here." hitting his ears and Whiplash nods solemnly, feeling his stomach sink a little lower.
He'd taken unfound pride in putting the pieces together of a plan desperate to fail, one part fading weaponry and one part eyeing the prize of a snake pit below them and one part thinning braincells clacking around in his head. He'd never been the smartest tool in the shed and he knew that, all bloody knuckles and cracked teeth instead of discussions and decisions.
It's why he'd felt pride bubble up in his gut when he'd routed the path down the Junkwall and into the Den, over the mutts and to the piles of ammunition that sit across the way, rocket boosters and adrenaline engaged in full. He'd cracked a devil's grin when he'd announced it, traced a lifeline in the air with his finger through the Den and waited for the same applause that sprints through his veins after every show, cracked whip still echoing in the air and roses thrown at his feet.
Instead, silence had dragged sharpened claws against his skin, goosebumps and raised hairs left in its wake. "Sounds like a deathwish." Kareem's words dug into his back life a knife, pulled vertical up until scarlet heavens spilled out. Izzy'd sat in a land none of them knew, eyes glazed over and watching the sky ebb and flow above, and Isaac? Eyebrow arched and a laugh slipping out. "So, you're out?" and Kareem had confirmed with tongue-in-cheek and a sigh between his lips, distrust and a stolen knife on both of their minds.
He can't really blame him, but he does anyways.
Pride he refuses to let go of and a sense stubbornness that refuses to let go of him means that he'd decided to do it anyways.
"Alrigh', let's get after it." He says solemnly, taking one last look at the mission before them before nodding to Isaac and making his way towards his mech. The suit taunts him, rusted metal and years of battles he'd never learn about carved into the steel. He climbs in it and feels its pulse, an echo of a heartbeat shaking through the suit as it comes to life and tightens around his limbs, claiming his life as its own and the static of the HUD on the helmet fading softly into view. "Izzy, sweets-" He hears his voice slip into the static and turns towards his ally, catches sight of her sitting with the mechs walkie-talking sitting in her hands. She'd refused to get into the suit, claiming a different world told her it wasn't them inside of it.
Rose stuck between his teeth, all the suave of a gentleman that Willow Wisp had taught him to be, he'd convinced her to help them out with faux-love written into his words. Kareem had looked at him like it was manipulation. "Ya keep an eye on the mutts for us, alrigh'? Make sure we're outta harms way."
Maybe Kareem was right.
He forces the feeling down as he turns back towards the edge of the Junkwall, engages the grappling hook he'd salvaged from the remains of the wall and installed into his suit, familiarity written into every swing. There's a bright red button on the forearm of the mech that has been calling his name since he'd first found it, fading print of a rocket symbol hanging on by a thread against the hands of time. He might be dumb, but he can put two and two together for that one.
"Ay, lion boy. Get ready to roar." He calls to his ally next to him, gulping down sandpaper and spit before he slams his palm into the button. Immediately the suit roars to life, clamors against his skin and screams as if it'd been waiting for this moment for centuries.
He feels the momentum power up through the engines at the back of his suit, blue flames suddenly licking at the wall beneath his feet and causing the mech to lurch forwards unevenly. "FUUUUUUUUuuuuuuucccccckkkkkk!" He yells into the comm system as he sprints forwards towards the edge, adrenaline quick to flood into his veins and a boyish howl of fear and excitement slipping from his lips.
He jumps farther than he'd expected to, carried by the boosters that had come to life out of the back of his suit and twists in the air, launching the grappling hook into the side of the wall before pulling himself back towards it. He slams into the makeshift steps with a gracelessness only a showman could pull off, pulls back the grappling hook before leaping forwards again, skipping ten steps at a time as he makes his way down the wall.
The mutts react within seconds, snapping their attention towards the sudden roar of the jets and the sound of steel against steel, yellow eyes focusing in on the behemoth mech suit that is making its way down towards them so goddamn suddenly. Whiplash grinds his teeth and bares his fangs back, initiating the dagger from the suits left arm as a safety precaution as he finally slams into the grounds of the Den. Dust and dirt rises out from underneath him, a small crater left from the impact before he jumps forwards, sprinting towards a pack of mutts in front of him.
He jumps at the last second, hardly managing to clear their claws and fangs and hears the howls and whines of the mutts as the flames lick against their skin. It's an act made in good measure as he twists, slamming the leg of the suit into one of the beasts and hearing it fly backwards before he turns and sprints away towards the piles of ammunition.
Danger calls to him as he moves, hearing the sounds of the mutts closing in on him from different directions. Adrenaline fights against the fear in his system as he loads his weapons, calling into the intercom with a roar.
"Little lion man, now's your time!"
[Uses rocket boosters to blast into the Den]
[Collects more gatlin and cannon ammo]
