Archangel Protocols: Revival IC

'The Arc? This is too good to be true.' Was all he could think as the General finished his speech and say. 'This chance to see pre-collapse tech is pretty interesting.' He thought as he turned to look at each person that had questions, then faced the General as he answered them.

He watched silently, soaking everything in while mentally preparing. He did so only to keep focused, he was mostly a relaxed and laid-back individual on the mission not allowing himself to be overcome by anything and just rolling with the punches. Sometimes those punches happened to be grenades but he still rolled...or tried to roll with them. Grinning at his own thought process, it seemed timed with Masraik's demonstration of skill at sitting. However, he didn't even notice that particular incident as his eyes searched the room's participants out, taking mental notes on each one's appearance. 'Bio's are interesting' He thought as he used the terminal to flip through everyone's and see what kind of team they had going here.

Making a quick hand raise then dropping it, just to get the General's attention. "Sir? What's the eta of departure?" It really was the only question buzzing around his head. Everything else would have to be answered on the field.

Quantas grinned on the corner of his mouth at Masraik's little spill but continued to listen to Train as persistently as possible. Only then, when Masraik said he had no more questions, did he glance through the dossiers with a hasty eye. Nineteen, eh? That explains it, heh. Next he popped through Masraik and the others a little, the android perked his interest a little, but learning that Masraik was a new pool and he was the first generation, it explained a little. A bright burning candle. He'd try to be a little less judgemental based on that he wouldn't have forever to work on his flaws. Especially with his negative disposition being so powerful. Azreal and Abbaddon were fairly unchanged. However, the protocols decided to add a derivative of her pool to the mix. Thankfully he didn't have that sort of weird background feeling that she did. That's been rather unique to her, so far.

I've seen Masraik's kind before, he thought, I need to show him that a second generation GELF is as useful and potent as a Pure One can be. Otherwise he'll cause a rift. He needs to learn how to spell team correctly. Longview's lip curled on the corner again with a grin. Now, I definitely should honor his request to mind Kindle's incredible bounciness. It's a force to be reckoned with on it's own. Surprising how much weaponry is packed into such a small frame though. The Prot's have outdone themselves this time around.

He glanced around a bit, looking at his comrades and Train. A good crew, Quantas finally thought. "We'll be alright," he whispered. "I know it already."

Abaddon just sat through the briefing, listening with her eyes half-closed. She knew that she could look up bios and the like before the mission, for she was sure that her rookie scientists would want to make sure that she was functioning up to par with her last tests. Her eyes caught the cocky younger GELF falling out of his chair, and it took a few moments for Apollyon to realize what she was laughing internally at. <What? Is that all? Puh-lease, Abaddon. Your standards for humor have severely dropped from the last time we were awake.>

Abaddon sighed, and said to her other self, <Well, *you* didn't see it. It was really funny how his actions accented his point.> Apollyon felt extremely annoyed as Abaddon showed her the memory. It got a snicker from the second self.

<OK, you're right. That was amusing. But it didn't warrant how amused you were.> She glowered inside their mind, giving Abaddon the feeling that she wanted to cross their arms. <Now pay attention. Ask if we can have some time to stretch our muscles with our new...comrades.> She said the words with nearly a sneer. <I want some time in the sims an physical practice rooms. You know, to stretch *my* limbs.>

Abaddon nodded mentally, then said, "I have one question, Sir. Will we have enough time to run a sim in the practice rooms...or, whatever you call them now, with the team so that we can have some experience with one another before the actual mission to try to raise the success percentage of our mission. That, and I believe that I would be better able to serve the team if I had a chance to work in combat once before this mission is to take place."

ooc: Matt, ETA stands for Estimated time of Arrival, so... the ETA of departure is a little... off, I lol'ed a little.

IC:
Train looked them all over and said "You'll have about 5 hours while the transport is fueled and checked over. You're flight will be about 4 hours so you'll have a little time to recoup, but if you train in a sim, you better have maximum safety's on, cause we don't have time to heal anything but minor minor wounds and I want you all in tip top shape. I'm not denying access to the sims, but I am highly reccomending that you do not risk getting yourselves hurt."

"If that is all?"

Azrael, having helped the heavy Marsaik back up nodded to him, turned and said "No Sir. I believe we are good to go."

Train looked at Azrael for a long moment and then nodded "Good. May the Angels prevail. Ashes to ashes."

"Dust to dust." Azrael echoed in the almost ceremonial ending to any briefing. As Train exited he turned to the group and said "Alright everyone, I think we need to run at least a light sim to get ourselves into some semblance of shape, and then some rest if possible. You do not have to join me, but I think it would be best if you do. I'll be loading up in Sim room two, green level in ten minutes for those who care to join me. Dismissed."

With that he turned to leave, heading towards the door leading to the lift, as he approached the door it clicked open, and the buzz of the security field shut off.

"Coming?" He said over his shoulder to Abbadon, as he continued his way to the lift.

OOC: Haha...I forgot how much I had to think while playing her...I keep forgetting the plurals when talking about their body and their clothing and whatnot...haha. *headdesk*

IC:

Apollyon was irked and somewhat appalled that Train would even consider Abaddon getting hurt in a mere sim...it wasn't like they were rookies, they could go up against men and machines armed with plasma rifles and other more advanced technology with only their Asterael, and not even receive a scratch on their leather knee pads from the gravel and debris that was always littering the ground.

"Dust to dust," Abaddon replied, reveling in the calmness that spread through her despite the anger that Apollyon was feeling. The mission was set. They would go out again for the first time in...well, too many years for her to even count.

As Azra dismissed them, she came up to him as he was leaving and said, "Does it have to be the second sim room?? That one feels...small. I know that it is one of the larger rooms, but..." she sighed. "I might be thawed more often than you, but you get to go out more often. This is the first time in a long while that I'm feeling...nervous about a mission. I have only been in the sim rooms by myself for a while..." She hesitated, wondering if telling him her fears would strengthen or hurt the team, and her chanced of participating in the real body of the mission.

"I fear that, because I haven't worked with a unit or team in so long, that my skills will be impaired for compensating for my other allies on the field. I am afraid that, once my Killer side takes effect and my genetic programming takes over, that I will hurt someone...even you, Azra." She couldn't look him in the face as her voice dropped and she felt sorrow overtake her. Apollyon was angry, as was usual for her, at Abaddon's emotional state.

<What the HELL are you doing, Abaddon! He has the powers to refuse you the mission if he feels that you aren't stable enough to take it on! I want to go outside, even if you don't, so I would NEVER hurt another member of our squad. You know that. What is it that you really fear?>

There was a pause, then she said, <That we won't do our mission correctly, that our mental instability will be discovered-> Apollyon shuddered at that mentally-<that we will fail because, in battle, I won't be able to control this body that we both inhabit, and that I will fade into nothingness as you gain control. That Azra will notice how you do not feel the same way for him that I do...and that we will be forever locked away, to never be reawakened or used on the battlefield again. That is what I fear, sister-of-the-mind. And you would do well to heed what I fear, for it will effect you in the long run as well.>

Apollyon was silent the rest of the way to the Sims.

Kindle bounced right up out of her chair when Commander Azrael spoke, "Sim Room Two, Yes'sir!", though she knew he hadn't actually asked her.

She began to strategize her position in her group, she made a small note of what she had noticed about each team meamber from skimming their files, and saved it so that she could add details later:
[[Azrael, M, PO-1, animal and power melee, can enrage
[[Abaddon, F, PO-1, speed and agile melee, long history with Azrael
[[Masraik, M, PO-2, power tank, can berserk and vulnerable to extreme temps
[[Casper, A, And-2, surveillance & light melee/ranged, can empathize
[[Longview, M, G-1 Seraph, sniping and 'field' sensitivity, aka Quantas
[[Matthias, M, G-1 Abaddon, speed and trained melee, strong team player
[[Bryan, M, G-1 Gabriel, espionage and martial melee, improved healing
[[Kindle, F, Cyb-80%, heavy ranged & defensive, sensitive to heat/EM

Kindle caught up to Azrael and Abaddon, "Sirs, its an honor to work with you." She normally would have only addressed Azrael as the Commander, but Abaddon had just as extensive a history, worthy of respect.

She could feel her heart racing, as if it were trying to pump enough to support an army...which ironically with it being assisted by nanite technology that wasn't entirely unfeasible. She looked up at Azrael wondering if this time he would notice, or if a gelf would once again usher her away.

ooc: i put what kindle noticed from skimming files together using your bios and previous interactions, hopefully i didn't misinterpret anything.

Masraik looks around the room as people begin to disperse and quickly hops up. <GAH! Who do I approach? So little time, so many people to sync with!>

Looking quickly between Casper and Longview he said, "It looks like you two are the most likely candidates for whom I should stick with for this mission. Other than Kindle of course, but I've already fought beside her before. Care to SIM? Or at least a light spar to get you loose and for me to gauge your movement if **** hits the fan?" Grinning wide at that last comment and inwardly laughing to himself, because he knew he was definitely the slowest of the bunch. "I'll meet you there if you care to take me up on my offer, and don't worry about hurting me..." He said as he jogged out the door after Azrael.

"Azrael, wait up." Masraik caught up to the trio and extended his hand. "Thank you back there. It would be an honor to have a light training exercise with you, however I believe your tactical capabilities will out shine me greatly, so I figured I'll hang back and be our rear guard with the snipes. Lord knows I shouldn't be our first choice for covert insertion." Masraik grins sheepishly in regards to his little spill earlier. "If you wish to loosen up on an opponent you don't have to hold back too much on, I'm game. Otherwise, I'll be getting to know the others of our outfit."

Nodding politely to the two Ladies next to Azrael, "the offer is extended to you as well."

Casper continued recording the reaminder of the briefing until General Train dismissed them. So, Azreal was his commander, but there was no ranking structure in place beyond that. Casper's service to the group on a mission such as this was obvious. As a scout, his input and survelliance would be valued. He stood and saluted Azreal as the Pure One adjoured the briefing, offering the use of a simulator so that they might see each other in action. Casper knew his limits, and he didn't need to get in shape or warm up, but seeing the others might aid in his expectations for the mission. He followed the group, all of whom seemed to accept Azreal's offer.

Casper was also curious to see some of the new weaponry he'd never been allowed to use before. With full armory access, thier advantage on the battlefield would be far greater. While they walked, Caper brought up the terrain satellite photos that were included in the brief. There were some vantages and a good amout of cover, but overall, the bunker was desiged to be defensible. Infiltration would be difficult. There weren't many entrances, and the guards were sure to be vigilent if they knew the importance of what they guarded.

Casper finished analyzing the photo as they reached the proposed sim room. "So, what kind of sim would adequately display each of our unique abilites, and remain safe enough for no one to need repairs or medicine?"

OOC: Sorry everyone I kept meaning to mention it in the briefing but somehow kept getting sidetracked away from it, so consider this knowledge as part of the dossiers, (while you won't know the name IC, the arc is a parralell to Cheyenne Mountain IRL) The base is essentially a hollowed out mountain. One main entrance, any other potential entrances, of which only two were spotted, are probably air vents. Everything else about the base is essentially invisible except for a very fuzzy outline of the very very outside edge of the base through IR imaging, and the knowledge that it is very extensive due to the size of the power signature coming from it. It is also powered by a fusion (not fision) reactor.

IC
Abaddon caught up to him, and stated her fears. Azrael knew how much that had to cost her, knew that admitting any weakness even to him was as sure a sign of fear as he had ever seen in her. He stopped a moment, turning to look, searching her eyes. He had the power to deny her this mission, he knew it, and she knew it. If she was unsure of herself then he probably should. He wouldn't though, he had the power, he did not have the will.

If he, of all people, decided Abaddon was unfit for service, she would never again be awakened for anything resembling a mission, if at all. He couldn't bear that. He wouldn't bear that. He was about to reply to reassure her, he opened his mouth to do so, and then the others caught up to them. He could have ground his teeth in frustration. In the cafeteria they had been invading his personal time, but now he was their commander. Like it or not they were supposed to talk to him. He took a deep breath mentally and responded to each as they approached him.

As Kindle told him how honored she was to be serving with them he could hear the faint thump of her heart, indicating her nervousness, or excitement, she deserved more than a cool brush off, she was young, and still passionate about what she did. She could be hurt or offended easily by any sort of indifference. While he was far more concerned about Abaddon than this young cyborg, he knew Abaddon could wait for the moment, the cyborg could not. So he nodded politely to her and spoke the truth to her "And I am honored to work with one who has sacrificed so much for the cause, I do not know that I could have done as you have, were I in your place. I look forward to seeing you in action, for now..." Even as he began to turn back to Abaddon ready to move away some so that he could discuss with her the situation without the others hearing, Masraik showed up, asking him to wait.

This one he was unfamiliar with, but he had certain traits Azrael was familiar with from what he had seen so far. Azrael even suspected that while Masraik was a new attempt at a Pure One, the protocols had used one of the original pools as a template at the very least. If they had, then Azrael was far more familiar with Masraik than anyone would suspect except maybe Abaddon and Quantas. One thing was certain, he had to show this one respect, otherwse he would likely turn into a brick wall of resistance, or show boat so much in an attempt to gain respect that dealing with him would be impossible.

Azrael took the time to quickly reach out and squeeze Abaddon's shoulder and flash her an understanding smile giving her what public reassurance he could, hoping to get the chance to tell her his thoughts momentarily. Releasing her shoulder and motioning for Masraik to follow as the approached the lift he nodded his head respectfully, waiving off the other man's thanks, and half jokingly adding "I never leave a fallen comrade down if I can help them get back up." Mentally he added, sometimes not even if they are beyond ever getting back up, his eyes not moving from Masraiks face, even as his thoughts flickered to Abaddon, and the mission that had separated them for cold ages.

Obviously studying the bulky Masraik Azrael smiled and said "I think a little sparring could be arranged, though I'm still deciding how to run the sim, we need to learn about each other, the best way to do that is to fight one another, but we also need to work out a team dynamic, the best way to do that is to fight an enemy... I'll let you know what's going on when we get there. Also, I don't think there will be much chance of a truly covert insertion. Once we are in the base I think its gonna be blood, guts, and Mayhem. If that's the case I want you front and center alongside me. I work in the thick of it, you do too, we might need to clear the path for some of the others as we go."

The lift in front of them dinged and though there was room for more on the lift Azrael pulled Abaddon into the lift with him and said "See you at the sim." while firmly pushing the close door button before anyone else could get on. The door slid shut and as the lift lowered he reached out and gently sent a surge of electricity through the panel temporarily shorting the lift out while the backups came on line. With this stolen moment of solitude Azrael adressed Abaddon.

He reached out and gently touched her face, something he would never have done in public, walking arm and arm had been more an open expression of emotion than they had allowed themselves in centuries. He looked into her eyes and said "You, my Lady of the Abyss, are as I am. We are weapons. We are old weapons that have been hard used, but still we endure. I trust you explicitly, there is no one, no one, I would rather fight beside. You have never turned on a teamate to date, and as far as I know, outside of a fleeting iritation you have never even thought about hurting me. The day you turn on me is the day you are no longer you, but the day you stop fighting is the day you no longer exist."

"I think your memory is less fractured than mine, I sometimes get my memories... confused. But just remember what it was to work with the others, how it was when we eight..." he looked puzzled for a minute then shook his head and said "seven, how we seven, used to work together. It didn't matter if we worked solo for ten missions straight, we could always come back together and work as a team. We can do the same, even if it is a different team now."

With that the backups kicked in and the lift continued on its way with a smooth, if somewhat sudden acceleration.

ooc: Mir feel free to move us to the sim rooms.

Honestly a bit surprised at the abrupt separation, but beginning to understand the situation between the two, Masraik reaches over to nudge Kindle. "Guess they needed to get a quickie in before the mission eh?" Bellowing his deep laugh for the first time that day, he felt better seeing something other than formal nonsense. "I guess they'll want a private 'one on one' before they do anything with the group!" Cracking himself up, he slapped Kindle on the shoulder.

"Come on ma chère, lets find another lift down." Laughing again to himself while walking to the next nearest lift, Masraik digs for his cigar case again and pulls out his silica screen. Squeezing the bottom right corner of the unfurled screen causes it to solidify into a 14x14" hard screen with a consistency of steel. Reaching around to the back of it, he pulls out a cord which he wraps around his wrist and reconnects into itself. Holding up his left arm Masraik is able to use his right arm to browse the data given to them in the briefing.

Looking at the information they have from satellite feed, he sees why Azrael wants him up front. A mountain base... a very easily defended mountain base at that. <One entrance in, one entrance out it would seem. Wait...> Flipping through some history records for the region from his database, Masraik finds what he was looking for. <That region was hit with an earthquake of 7.0 magnitude some years back...>

Tapping away on his control panel as he walked he gained a little enlightenment. Stopping short as he figured his numbers he looks up. "That base can withstand at least a 32 megaton nuclear blast within a four mile radius... Thats a 1.64lb antimatter bomb... I'm talking solid metal infrastructure with shock absorbing shift plates minimum. If we don't catch the doors of this place open already, we may as well destroy the entire mountain trying to get in! I don't foresee this being some smash and grab mission..." Masraik continues to walk along, talking to himself, or whomever may be listening to him rattle on.

OOC: Yeah lol I know what it means but that was a personal glitch type thing lol...I always use ETA to just mean like 'how long until' kind of deal. So after you said you lol'ed...I happened to lol at what I said

IC: He nodded to the General as he finished and Azrael dismissed then. Speaking at the same time as a few of the others "Dust to dust." Following a few of the others out of the room he caught up to the one called Masraik saying something about how tough it was to get in. Grinning, he loved these kinds of missions. Clearing his throat...if he really had one to clear he wasn't sure but he wanted to get Masraik's attention without interrupting too bad. "Well perhaps some of us designed for stealth missions could do something to get in. According to the maps there's a few air vent entrances, or they look like air vents, that could possibly serve better than trying to directly open the front door or a wall with the information you just said." Getting into the lift next to Masraik he motioned to come on. "You heading for the sim as well? It'd do some good to learn a little about eachother's tactics and such before heading into the mission." He leaned back against the far wall of the lift and crossed his arms. It's been a bit since he's been on a mission, getting warmed up will help and getting to learn everyone else is a great way to bond before getting thrown into the fire.

OOC: Mas, try to type in past tense, not present (he wanted X, instead of he wants X)

also, I was writing my post and got sidetracked. You posted in the meantime. Had to edit mine. ;)

IC:

Masraik, as large as he was, took big enough steps and covered enough ground that he got where he wanted when he wanted. He considered his offer at spar, but it wasn't what he was made for. Melee was a last ditch effort. He was made to get in, get out, and interact as little as possible with the environment. Down to footprints in sand, he was to be careful to the point of being untraceable. Not to say he wasn't confident in his skills or limberness, or strength for that matter; but strength was moot. Punching a mountain does little to making a tunnel through it. He was quite certain that short of lethal intent, his chances of subduing the hulking creature would end in failure.

Masraik was already departing to go bother the other Pureés present when he decided he'd go use the room. He'd been thawed for a few weeks now and had participated in another mission since then. He supposed that since he was already awake, the Prots decided to conserve their resources and not put him into stasis for another couple years. Usually, he had quick turn-around times anyway though. It was never known when a chance at assassination of a major player was possible. Sometimes there were only a couple of hours notice that he needed to be thawed, briefed, energized, and combat ready. There was a bundle of people standing at the lift as the doors to the lift closed and subsequently moved only a short distance before going on the fritz.

"Looks like it's us, Tin Man," he said to the android nearby. "You going?" He asked. "Might as well figure out what the new guys can do. Not to mention the latest in artificial technologies and biomimetics ," he said, motioning to Casper but talking primarily to himself. The lift started to move again and he walked over to the waiting bunch. "I'm sure I'll see you there," he said back to Casper.

"So," he said, swaggering into pace as they walked for the next lift. "Can't figure out that everyone who's seen as much as they have needs a little time to themselves yet? I've been around for a good bit during both of your lifetimes and you've only just met me," he said. "Not necessarily an accident," he continued with a chuckle.

Quantas started again, "Ten minutes is all they need for now. It's a lifetime for them. I'm all bubbly just seeing someone from my youth again, let alone two of 'em," he snickered. "But I know not to get in their way right now. I thought all my old friends were gone for good. I'm happy to see a couple of 'em enjoy themselves, even if they don't remember me anymore," Quantas said frankly. He shrugged, "Just some advice. Not a threat." He punched Masraik's arm, "You'll see when it's your turn."

Kindle smiled cheerfully at her acknowledgment. When he said "For now..." she got the hint, "Yes'sir" she said, barely holding back the informal wink.

{I like him! It's been a long while since someone's mentioned what I had given up.} Kindle, inspired by the support of Commander Azrael, stayed positive even while thinking back to her family and friends, whom were mostly still living within traveling distance {Not that they'd recognize me anymore, i was just a quarter worth of implants when I left for good}

A slap on her shoulder snapped her right back to the present, "Jeez, Mas, remember you strength, don't make me fill you with shrapnel, I know how much you hate that." She threatened him teasingly as if she had the upper hand, knowing full well from previous missions that he could smash her to pieces if he had a mind to. Kindle enjoyed her random times with Masraik, {I just hope he don't berserk like our last mission}. Kindle supposed THAT incident was the reason Masraik had become more relaxed around her.

Masraik's train of thought had already gotten him back to business, his silicon screen out examining mission details, Kindle looked "I'm not as worried about getting in as much as I'm worried about getting out, technology-intact if they've got their defenses online.

When one of the GELF's motioned Masraik onto the lift, she told Masraik "Go on ahead, I'll be right up, I left something very important." Her energy at maximum, she turn right back in the direction of the briefing room, without waiting for his response.

...Only to have Longview come up. She perked up when her new GELF acquaintance appeared, only to glower at his initial comments {I was TOTALLY considerate of those two just now, pffft} She was disappointed, here she thought she had met someone who wasn't negative, but Kindle swore she was doomed to be surrounded by either supreme-ists or naggity pessimists of varying degrees.

She didn't hear what he said after that, her mood bounced right back up to normal, which would be an annoying level of optimism for most normal people {Must..Find..Dropped..Power Bar..it's my last trail mix flavored bar..} She left Masraik and Longview, and briskly walked back toward the briefing room.

ooc: I HATE RETYPING *CRY!* ... stupid F5

IC: After taking the lick from Longview, Masraik looked over at him in confusion. "What do you mean? If you mean having a strong desire for a relationship with someone, then I don't believe I'll ever have that problem." Masraik reached and tapped himself on the temple to emphasize his meaning. "These memories feel current, and cause internal reactions to stimuli that shouldn't even exist. The protocols screwed up in their design, leaving genetic memory intact and now I'm stuck with memories of lives I did not live. They're also incapable of subduing me long enough to remove this screw up of theirs..."

In quiet contemplation, trying to get his mind back on the mission Masraik followed Matthias onto the lift. "Even if we can get in through these supposed vents, Kindle has a point..." Looking over for her, he watched as she skittered away. <Damn it, that girl never sits still!> "If we get in, its not going to be pretty getting out. And securing data from inside this place? We'll be lucky if the entire base doesn't lock down on us. Going into the unknown is a bit agitating, in a manner that I hope no one on the team gets impatient in the infiltration and does some rogue action that jeopardizes us."

Deciding that tactics would have to wait until everyone was together, Masraik pushed on the corner of his screen and it softened up again. He rolled it up and put it away. When Masraik put the case away, he felt another vial that reminded him of something. He pulled it out, opened it up, and dumped the contents into his hand. "Before I forget, you'll need to inoculate yourselves with these injections, otherwise I won't be able to help you with the side effects of being around me for too long. Sorry I didn't remember earlier... I'm used to playing with cyborgs and androids."

After he capped the container, he lifted his right arm, flexed so everyone could see, then grunted. Seven slits appeared in the dorsal side of his triceps, spread open, and showed what looked like gills. "Otherwise, you'll be eternally stuck in a nightmare from this." He reached in with his fingers and yanked out one of the gills. "Its full of hallucinogenic poison and when I get worked up, and always when I go berserk, its impossible for me to control who is effected." Moments later, the slits closed up. "And anyone who maintains long term contact gradually become infected."

Masraik fished out another vial from the wonder pocket, inserted the gill to make more inoculations later, dusted his hand off and kept the other handful of injectors held out. "Any questions?"

Fire shot through the nerves of Abaddon's face as Azrael touched her cheek. It had been so long that she nearly forgot the name of the emotion that buzzed through her: desire. She could hardly listen to what he was saying as the uncomfortable feeling took over a section of her mind, and she tried to push it away like she usually could with her other emotions. Her voice was whispered as the lift started to move, and as she responded to his remarks. "I know, Azra. It's just...it's almost as if I can't trust myself anymore...and I don't want to be separated from you anymore. We spent centuries apart, not even being allowed to be awake at the same time because we let our emotions get the best of us. And now, finally, they gave us a chance to redeem ourselves." It seemed ridiculous, but Abaddon could swear she felt like crying. "Quite frankly, Az, I don't think that I want to be redeemed if it means that I have to hide everything from everyone else."

Just then, the doors opened up to the green level. It was a short walk from the lift to sim room two, and the glossy metallic doors opened automatically for them to enter. Abaddon walked in, studying the armory that made up the "antechamber" leading into the sim room. Abaddon looked over what was presented to her, and sighed. Pressing a button on the wall, she said, "Do you jerks think that I can do a sim without my Asterael? Hurry up and get it down here." She let go of the buttons, mumbling, "Idiots," as she went through the rest. Everything was loaded with blank rounds, as the sims were designed to make things feel real, even going so far as breaking bones, without as much danger from a fatal wound. Not that "fatal" meant anything to the GELFs.

She picked up her standard hand gun, and a few flash grenades. It was after she belted on the holsters for these things that a man dressed in white came in, holding a long package covered in black cloth. Abaddon smiled, and took the weapon gingerly. Glaring at the tech, she said, "Took you long enough," before she pulled the gauzy fabric from her favorite weapon.

It had three blades, and was designed after a really old tech show's weapon called a Bat'leth. It had the standard three blades, two scythes at the ends and one long, swooping one in the middle. Three handles made up the back side of the blade that measured about 4 feet in length, tip to tip. It had been modified so that, at a tough of a button, the thing could collapse at an invisible joint hear the middle to make it smaller, and to change the maneuverability. She gingerly touched the tips, causing the skin to split sightly on her finger tips. It was still sharp and well taken care of from the last time she had used it.

She set it against the wall, grabbing the thin body armor that she preferred. It could fit easily under her outing gear and be nearly invisiable. However, seeing as she was wearing a tank top, it was fully visible, black-blue material against her white skin. Then came on a set of thigh and shin guards made out of the same material, making her deceptively feminine flat shoes seem out of place. After doing up the Velcro, she she stood.

Sucking on her sliced fingertips after putting on the armor, she waited for Azra to finish ((OOC: assuming he wasn't done before Abaddon was. ^_-)) and for the others to arrive and gather their things.

OOC: Made an edit, ebcause GE's post made me realize that I forgot her body armor...hehe...

OOC: haha...it said it didn't post my post, but it really did...ignore this....

He accepted her admission quietly, knowing that nothing he could say would quell those fears, it was something all the Originals feared, the loss of their abilities, of their purpose. Of the end of their existence as they knew it. Of course Abaddon and he had extra reason to fear. If either one of them was put into that final deep sleep the other would follow shortly by choice or by force. Whatever they wanted they had to hide, at least a little, for now.

They got to the entrance to the sim and starting loaded up with the safety mod weapons. Each was tagged electronically to work in the sim with its safety protocol. They could be set anywhere from lethal force to complete safety. The sim used very advanced holograms and forcefields to both create the illusion of combat situations and to protect those within the sim. As he loaded up he began to issue commands to the computer control.

"Sim authorization Azrael, code Alpha Beta Alpha Double Delta Omega Nu." After the beep acknowledging his authorization code he continued "Sim setup command Pre Load combat simulation Delta Epsilon Epsilon Pi Sigma Henry Iota Theta. Load General Combat environment full safeties. Multiple combatants. Multiple weapon types. Engagement at range and at close quarters authorized. Friendly fire on. Injury punishment on End command."

While he issued his commands he armed and armored himself first puttin on a utility vest of body armor capable of stopping most small arms fire and greatly reducing the damage from more powerful rifles, and dipersing energy weapons. He also donned similar leg gaurds and a helmet. Some Gelf disdained armor feeling instead that their own abilities should be enough to avoid injury, he had found long ago that it was better to have armor and not need it than to not have it and need it. He then gathered his weapons, going light he chose one of the safetied assault rifles, it was one of the multi ammo models that fired flechets, plasma bolts, or the regular bullets he could find in use by the corponation troops. He also took backup pistols, his standard sword for melee combat, a brace of throwing knives, and a bandoleer of grenades that would only function in the VR environment.

Once satisfied with his overall situation he decided to sit wait for the others to join him.

OOC: Heheheh... abaddon and deep shizzle as codes. ^_^ You're funny GE.

IC:

"Not exactly," Quantas mumbled. Learn on your own is the name of the game, I guess, he thought. Masraik pulled out some vials and a piece of his biology, explaining something about nightmares and hallucinogens. He shrugged as the lift opened, "Eh. The protocols would have made it a mandatory inoculation if they thought we would be around each other long enough to make it purposeful." After he stepped into the lift, Quantas leaned on the side and crossed his arms. Almost not worth it, he thought, Working with others. I'm a lone wolf. "It's a short walk, but I want to get there before we get asked why we take so long," he said dryly.

Masraik temporarily ignored Longview's comment and begins casually tossing the injections to everyone around him that didn't already have cybernetic lungs with filtration devices, except for Longview. Looking at him, Masraik said, "The last GELF that ignored my inoculation had to be destroyed and brought back from a previously frozen genmem. He was only in contact with me for three consecutive hours of combat."

Mas held up the last injector as the lift came to an abrupt stop. When the door slid open, he put the antidote between thumb and forefinger and flicked it towards Longview's abdomen like a dart. Without waiting to see if it connected, Masraik stormed off down the hall into the training sim prep area.

Upon entering he saw Azrael and Abaddon gearing up and smirked. "Ya know, if you'd like I can enter your biometrics too." With that, he slapped the palm of his hand on a seemingly bare wall.

"Masraik confirmed. Will you be performing your 1,623rd formula test?"

"Bloody hell no!" Masraik shouted at the voice, "They still have to fix the last crap they used on me! Open the armory would you?"

At that, a panel of the wall slid away, which revealed an additional room. "A little addition I put in myself. I keep all my gear here since they have me in here so often." Masraik walked over to the corner and disappeared into the dark for a few moments. When he emerged he was decked out in his usual tactical gear with a full metal plate exoskeleton painted with the anti glare black camouflage paint. Only adding to his bulk, Masraik now looked like a rhinoceros covered in dragon scales standing on its hind end. Strapped to his back was a towering black round object, shaped like the wing coverings of a bombardier beetle. This 'shell' however looked much heavier, and was about 6 foot tall. Otherwise, Masraik looked completely unarmed.

Masraik walked over to Azrael, set his shield on the floor, and removed the right half of his jacket. Performing the same biology lesson that he did on the elevator, he produced two more inoculations for the two in front of him. "I highly recommend you inoculate yourself, I'm not responsible for the consequences."

Masraik redressed himself, and waited for orders.

He nodded to Masraik. "That's true." Standing there as he listened to the speech about infection and something else. He shugged lightly, performing the inoculation without worry. Whatever keeps his ass fighting is worth it. Walking out of the lift and into the sim room, he saw Abaddon and Azrael were already here. Getting over to a particular section he enjoyed, he gathered his usual combat gear.

The modified MP5 type weapon, his katana, throwing knives and his usual sidearm pistol. Of course he had suited up with his armor first, a full body suit with a thinner material at the joints for flexibility with his sheath built in. Non-glare black paint colored the suit as it basically was form-fitted to his body. It appeared to not be very thick but the material was made to highly reduce most types of weapons fire, including plasma ranges while stopping bullets as well. Of course it hurt a little more than the body armor others were wearing but his allowed him to be more flexible and faster on his feet.

The headgear he particularly liked (like a ninja mask type thing that I can't explain right now for the life of me lol) offered a heat vision and electromagnetic vision as well as a breathing filtration (gas mask function essentially) and finally a built in ear piece and mic that could be tuned to the correct frequencies for communications.

Finally sheathing the katana as he walked over to the others and smiled under his mask, waiting for the orders.

Casper was silent in the lift, preferring instead to listen, as he often does. The group seemed volitle. Any attempts at a subtle side of the mission may very well be impossible, especially with the large, aggressive GELF among them, and the considerable firepower packed in the cyborg girl. He assumed the Pure Ones could exercise some self control, and Longview was literally born for covert ops. Definately, this would be an interesting mission.

The life stopped and parted the doors. The group made its way to the small armory of weapons attached to the sim room. Casper noticed Azreal had already loaded a sim before they had arrived; the scenario known only to him. Casper donned a suit of light armor, mostly useful for lessening the damage from direct fire and possibly mitigating glancing hits. He took a tactical helmet, though the computer inside would not be needed for the mission once he synced his internal processes with thier tac-coms. For now, though, it served as viable protection to his most valuable target.

For weapons, Casper took a medium range semi-automatic carbine with a scope. It was more powerful than the average assault rifle and could be loaded with a variety of ammo types (explosive, AP, incendiary, stc), though it was limited to encased plasma slugs. He also took a pair of laser sidearms and a combat knife. His particular weapons were made with andriod interfaces, using the same universal plug in his wrist. Standard weapons didn't have these modifications, for they only served the purpose of better allowing the andriod (or cyborg) to make use of thier targeting capabilities.

Casper approached the door to enter the sim chamber, and activated combat mode. His sensors and audio/visual recordings ceased and his tactical components came online. He turned to face the group, capturing each of thier faces and appearances as they were fully geared. He entered them as temporary hostiles in his mission database. The paramaters for thier hostility were simulated environments. He turned back to the door and patiently waited the sim to be started.

It was the first time since they were thawed that Apollyon took control of their body. She glared at Masraik like he was a stupid rhino, which he looked like, and said, "There's a reason they called me Abaddon or Apollyon, or the Angel of Pestilence. I am a creature of disease and poison. Within moments my body can fight it off, no matter the combination of chemicals. Do not treat me like one of you later generations, unable to fight off even a little bit of E. coli. If there are any consequences, then I will take personal responsibility for it, and will stay locked up in my freezer for the rest of effing eternity." Abaddon wrestled control from her more violent counterpart, and made their body relax a little. She breathed deeply, not taking the proffered vial, and leaned against the wall, ignoring him, wishing that Azra would hurry up and start the sim so that she could let Apollyon go without any limitations.

Kindle saw the lift door shut, and the group go up "Damn! I thought I'd get back in time." She makes a pouty face, and waits for the next lift to take her up to green level.

She pulled out her energy bar, and took a couple bites. Although most of her energy could be replenished in the same manner as an android, nothing could beat the taste of good food, NOTHING. She went the rest of the way to the sim room in unusual silence, enjoying her trail mix bar.

When she arrived at the sim room, she saw everyone already assembled and geared up. Kindle wanted to get her gear in order quickly {Wow, looks like everyone's energy levels are up a bit, that's good}. "Mas! Ya'll totally didn't wait on me for the lift" She laughed, as she knew she hadn't actually asked him to.

She walked over to get equipped, though she wasn't entirely sure what equipment set to pick from seeing as she didn't know what the simulation was. {I'll just have to get the usual for now}.

She requested a S.J.3 (smart jolt, 3 pulse) Plasma Rifle, and immediately checked the safety on it before linking it to her system. Next she went with a smaller pistol than usual, a .45 and strapped it to her thigh where it could be easily taken out for a quick shot, albeit unlinked aiming. When looking at the options of her usual choices she shook her head "No, i'll get the blaster when mission starts". "Where's my Jackal?" She asked through a com, referring to her sword. When it was immediately brought to her, Kindle felt a sense of purpose {For me to get such prompt responses, this is a doomsday mission indeed} The sword did not have a sheath, but rather when she put it to her back side, her frame adjusted and trapped the hilt in a circular grip.

"Commander Azrael, sir, have you decided what type of Simulation we are running, and would you like me to equip any seige firepower?"

ooc: Poor Mas, getting dissed, tsk tsk. Here's hoping the halucinogen really doesn't affect her. Anyone who hasn't made there formal appearance can post it, but I'm trying to keep us moving, hope I'm not leaving anyone too far behind. I just don't want to lose the good momentum we have going.

IC:
Watching everyone assemble he thought about the mission. <We've got a strong group here, probably one of the most concentrated batches of firepower we've had in one place since... since ... they had been hunting someone... a threat... powerful... Deus? No. Deus had been in the base, no hunt, just fire and blood and ...> Pain in his head warned him. He backed away from the memories, thinking too hard on the things that were scattered and lost always caused him pain.

<Our skills are many, I hope they'll be enough. Our Weaknesses are many, I hope we can cover them. Balance. Must find the balance.> When Masraik approached him with his explanation Azrael nodded and took the vial, injecting himself. He trusted his enhanced immune system as Abaddon did, but had also believed in being safe rather than sorry. "Thank you Masraik. I'll keep her inoculation just in case." He took the spine from him and added "They've upped their game on the armor I see. When they designed you they really were going for a tank. You remind me strongly of Michael I think. They made him the strongest of us in body. But the Halucinogen and the berserking... those are new. I am certain it will all come very much in handy."

He spoke in part to try and cover any of the sting Abaddon's rash words may have caused. This one needed careful treatment until he felt secure in the group. If Azrael was right, the comparison with one of the strongest of the original seven would help mollify him. The complement of his new features should also help keep him from thinking that Azrael thought of him as a derivative or a GELF. His file listed him as a Pure One, an original of the genetic template, where a GELF was derived from the genetics of a Pure one.

He knew there was a huge difference between how a Pure one was made and how a GELF was made, and his mind seemed to stick on it, trying to remember, but that too was gone. The pain began to return, sharper than before, and he turned his thoughts away. Finally Kindle showed up, and addressed him. He responded to her as he began to manually press into the computer his desired paramters, his nimble fingers flying over the keyboard as he rapidly programmed the sim room and told it to execute. "First of all, you do not have to refer to me by rank, We have to think and work as a team. I may be in charge, but I don't think we need those extra syllables to make sure it is known, it only slows down speech, and identifies me as a higher priority target to the enemy. Not that we'll leave any of them standing long enough to put that information to use."

"We don't know exactly what we'll be facing in the base so I've set up a highly randomized sim for us, after we've done a little warm up sparring. Prep as you see fit. You know what you are good with better than I. Optimize yourself for versatility. We'll have access to more in the real armory, but try and be representative of what you'll be using." As he finished speaking the sim chimed, signalling that it was loaded and ready.

"Alright, everyone in. We'll be sparring first. Then I'll change it over to a randomized scenario. Pair up, weapons safety is on full, but injury punishment is also on full." Looking them over he saw Abaddon eyeing Masraik in a surly fashion, and given her earlier reaction to the earlier inoculation discussion...

"Masraik, you're with me big guy. I'm gonna find out what the Prots can do these days." He didn't need any stress fractures in the team, and if Abaddon let loose on their resident berserker, there could be literal fractures in the team, full safeties or not. He stepped into the sim room, which currently appeared to be an endless grey void, the only differentiation between "sky" and "ground" was a deepening of shade for the ground. Calling to the compuer he said "Simulation Modify: Outdoors, simple ." Suddenly the sky was blue, the ground was a light green, and there was a visible lightsource in the sky. "he paced away from the group, facing up some 20 meters from Masraik. He studied him intently. Once everyone was in position he cocked his head to one side and said "Ready?"

ooc: Full safety means that weapons will do no REAL damage, hit as hard as you like, force fields prevent the force from actually connecting. Full Injury punishment means that you still FEEL the hits. IT doesn't cause damage but the forcefields activate the appropriate level and region of pain receptors, causing you to "feel" the wound even though you do not have it. In the event of an injury that should hinder mobility or some such, your movement will be appropriately hindered by said force fields.

Description of Abaddon's action with Mir's permission. (looking at mas in a surly fashion)

Mas, feel free to post your attack/responses to my conversation. I decide what of your hits land/ what sort of damage it does though, and vice versa. Try to be realistic enough.


Everyone else, match up as you see fit, first come first serve. Matt I think Mir has her eye on you though.

OOC: Heck yes I call Matt. ^_^

IC:

Abaddon was sneering inside at Masraik, and from the glance that Azra shot in her direction as he was explaining what they were going to do, she knew she was alloying a little bit of that to show in her face. <Oh, we'll just fight him in the sim. Azrael said they were doing one on one first...>

Azra then said that Masraik was his.

<Well, crap,> thought Apollyon, and Abaddon smiled inwardly. She knew who she wanted to fight, and as he gaze settled on him, she knew that it would be fun to see two of the fastest go against one another.

As Azra walked into the room and called up the sim, Abaddon fell in step beside Matthias, a somewhat wicked grin on her face. "Partner up?" she asked, letting the end scythed blade of Asterael fall to the ground as she looked at him, an odd look of pleasure shaping her eyes. She knew that this would be an experience, and it would give her a chance to stretch out against one of her own "children" who's stats came close to matching her own when she had been out of cryo sleep for a longer length of time.

Kindle listened to Azrael's order, and without missing a beat, "Less formal, you got it Az !"

She surveyed the room {hmmm..sparring first} At first she though of asking Longview, but trading shots didn't seem like it would be much of a warm up for either. "HEY CASPER! Wanna spar?" Waving her unlinked arm in the air she trotted in his direction. "Techie versus Techie, whatdya say?"

He Nearly crushed the vial in his hand before Azrael took it for Abaddon. Masraik said, "Good choice..." with enough disdain for it to be easily noticed. <This bloody crew is already getting under my skin! Do I really need to do that right off the bat just to gain a little respect?! No... I shouldn't... then I probably would end up severely hurting, if not killing someone. After all, the safety mechanism only does so much for a fist, or me ripping someones limbs off...> Glaring back at Abaddon he though, <I suppose I'd have to catch them first though. Damn squirrelly agile fighters.>

Masraik snapped out of his internal conflict on how best to inflict pain, uh I mean respect, upon his fellow soldiers by Azrael's sudden comments on Michael. "I was indeed designed for front line defense and offense, and extreme sustained combat times. As for the berserking, don't be too impressed. Its actually only an effect from them trying to put me in one of those containers with the saline gloop you are frozen in. My biochemical fungal engineering overloads from the mass of nutrients, and thus overloads my body's survival instincts. The berserking is a mechanism of my fungal DNA attempting to "leaf out" and spread its genetic material, hence the hallucinogenic spores. The mass increase is another biological function of trying to impress dominance on any nearby threats and in attempt to maximize spread of genetic material. I can't control how its released whenever I'm in that condition. It's also entirely primal and uncontrollable, so if you ever see me like that, consider me just as much an enemy as those firing at you. Trust me, it was a nasty little surprise the first time they tried to freeze me."

Relaxed from his little science lesson, and the obvious attempts from leadership to sate him, he calmed down just a little. <It's obvious what Azrael's doing, but I'll give in for now> However, he gritted his teeth and looked around to speak to Abaddon.

"I do not mean to suggest you could not handle it, however this is what I am, should that shine any light on your capability of enduring it. My genetics were derived from Amanita phalloides which contains two toxins and Claviceps purpurea which includes one toxin. The only ones you should be worried about, unless you feel so inclined to bite me for some reason, are phallolysin, which is a hemolytic toxin (red blood cell destroying) and alkaloid ergotamine, which is a vasoconstrictor (shrinks your blood vessels, causing no blood flow which leads to burning sensations, gangrene, or death) and harsh hallucinogenic. These injections are a nanite I acquired from the protocols and reverse engineered to immediately seek and turn those spores into adrenaline and oxygen. They won't effect anything else."

He then turned around to watch as Azrael started the Sim. <Ah good, a pleasant battle field. Non of that concrete prison garbage I'm usually stuck in.> Masraik looked over at Kindle and said, "Sorry little Miss energy pack, it looks like I'm battling our commander today, lets hope he doesn't hurt me!" He gave her a little wink and walked off after Azrael as he got into position for their private duel.

Masraik took a minute and closed his eyes. He could kid all he wanted but he knew that Azrael would mean serious business. He wasn't worried about normal rounds, or any sort of energy force weapons, but any sort of melee tactical fighting that could get close and personal was always a threat. His armor was built like it looked, with loose scales so that it grew with him if he berserked, thus anyone with skills with a blade could get underneath those scales. Thankfully, it was linked to his nervous system so that it did move when he wanted it too... providing some measure of force holding the scales in place.

Masraik opened his eyes, reached around for his shield, and split it in two. The pieces wrapped tightly around each of his arms. Masraik leaned forward in his normal combat stance, which looked almost like he was ready to sprint; and he was. Masraik closed the short distance between himself and Azrael as quickly as he could for weighing over 600lbs in full gear. He held the pieces in front of him in a large X pattern in front of him, leaving only enough room for him to see where he was going as he ran forward. <I'm not holding back, I hope you're ready old man> At that point, Masraik swung his right shield downward in a hacking motion while still holding the left piece upright and close to protect the majority of his body. <He dodged right! He only thinks thats an opening. Dodge this!> Immediately leveling out his left arm, Masraik aimed the tip of his shield at Azrael and pulled the trigger, letting out a large area force blast.

ooc: Just redirect any of your movements you wish if I overstepped here, not exactly sure how I can do anything but blow by blow unless its live action.

ooc: everyone you do NOT have to keep up but since Mas's time is going to become very limited soon, and he needs to become more familiar with the PvP combat dynamic before we get into real combat, so I'm gonna try and post quite frequently and have a good sparring match with him. If we finish up before the others, we I may go ahead and spar with someone else... or do something more... interesting.

Alright so I'll let the description of my reaction pass this time, but essentially it does sort of boil down to blow by blow for right now. when its a Player controlled (or Gm controlled) baddy that your up against the other person has to decide how they react and what damage they take. This means deciding that I dodged to the right before I say so is at least a little bit of a no no. Its reasonable, so I can work with it. Generally what you'll want to do is describe a series of actions that you perform, or perhaps, even some if then statements. If he reacts like ____ I'll ____ that way the other person can reasonably fill in your actions and it wouldn't be a power play. That's one of the reasons I'm sparring with you. Help you learn the ropes.

IC:

Azrael let himself relax. He even closed his eyes, he let his senses extend, let his muscles go nearly limp. Just enough force in them to keep him standing and stationary. He heard the click as the shield split, felt the thundering vibrations as Masraik charged him. His eyes opened. He stayed still until the suprisingly fast giant reached him. The shield on Masraik's right arm swung out, slicing the air, whistling as it moved. Azrael jumped back and to the his right, diagonally away from the swing. While it was a dodge, its main purpose was to give him the room he needed.

Bunching his legs, his muscles cording he launched himself into the air, the concussion from the force blast barely passing beneath the edge of Azrael's boots. As the charging warrior passed on beneath him, carried forward by his own momentum (since no matter how strong you can't stop on a dime) Azrael flipped, a couple of small snick sounds followed by two light thuds coming from him as he passed over Masraik. He landed lightly and spun, wipping his Rifle into place, flicking the button to high velocity flechets and firing a series of bursts towards the head of his armored foe, hopping backwards some 3 meters as he fires. He doubted the bursts would do any real damage if they hit, whether they hit him in the front or the back of the head, but they might throw him off balance or distract him if they did hit. Halting both his fire and his movement, he waited for the results of his actions, once again assuming his relaxed state.

<Bloody grasshopper! Maybe thats why he's REALLY green.> As Mas continued to charge forward due to momentum, he felt the pounds of high velocity rounds connecting with the back of his head, knocking him forward faster than he wanted to move. Swinging his left shield back around in front of him, he aimed it at the ground in front of himself and slightly to the left. Pulling the trigger before he fell forward, he blasted himself backwards and into the air in a clockwise spin.

When his opponent was within view, Masraik swung wide with his right arm, releasing the massive claw whip mechanism at the same time so that it swung very swiftly in a large sweeping radius towards Azrael. Masraik landed with an earth shaking thud about six feet away from where he'd been shot in the head, plowing dirt into a large cloud in Azrael's direction. <Damn it, I can't see if I connected!> He pulled his left wing back to his body to defend against any unseen attacks and strained his ears for any noises that could give away a position.

Azrael watched with some satisfaction as his enemy began to topple, and was pleasantly surprised when Masraik used his force blaster to propel himself backwards. He was rather unpleasantly suprised when the blade came whipping out of the shield, had it been real combat, and had he been a normal human he would have had his head cleaved from his shoulders, if not split right down the middle. However thanks to both his lightning reflexes and the fact that the clockwise spin gave the blade an upward motion as well as an outward motion, he was able to avoid fatal injury. As it was he felt a firey line of pain etch across his face and shoulder as the sim enforced the punishment for a realtively deep cut he would have recieved as he ducked underneath the blade.

Rolling away he came up in a crouch. Mentally checking the count he had been maintaining since he had jumped over Masraik's head. He was pleased to see where the dust cloud had formed from his large foes landing. It was almost exactly where they had been originally when he had leapt over the charge. As he completed his count he quietly said "Boom." whirling around and curling into a ball to put his back to the blast as the two grenades he had dropped as he had flipped exploded in simulated fire and shrapnel.

He felt a few pieces glance off of his armored back, and then uncurled rapidly, assessing the situation he had created.

ooc:note that this is not a PwP or God modeing, I did in fact drop the grenades before that was the Snicks and thuds posted previously.

Having heard the beep of the grenades as they blew, he couldn't even finish his curse. One of the grenades had been directly beneath Masraik's left foot, while the other had been right in front of his left shield. Flying backwards through the air back to where he had just flown from, Masraik thrust his arms backwards so that the one foot brace of the shields past his elbows would absorb most of the crash backwards. Unfortunately, the left shield had been ripped from his hand with the simultaneous explosions. The other shield, having not retracted its blade yet jerked him around so that he landed hard on his left side.

He rolled to his back, and tried to use his left arm to pick himself up. Fire, immeasurable fiery pain. Masraik did a quick check of what had happened to himself. His left hip was on fire, it'd have to be a deep bruise, probably to the bone. Forcing himself to move, bearing the pain from the searing heat that his armor was providing after taking a full frontal explosion, Masraik managed to get a look at himself. <Good... the armor held up. My foot is still intact, albeit a bit twisted.> Trying to retract his blade, it wouldn't budge. <It must have really dug into something when I was blown backwards.>

Ignoring what he could of the pain, he stood gingerly, putting most of his weight on his right side. He gave the shield one final hard jerk on the blade, retracted it, and used it to protect himself again. He looked up and saw his left shield sticking out of a cloud. <Ya know... in a real battle that would have landed.> Mas just stood there, beginning the regeneration of his hip with all his pent up energy, waiting for all the dirt and smoke to clear to find where his opponent was this time. <It won't heal before Azrael shows his face, but maybe I can stall him long enough to be able to run again>

ooc: minor edit, I apparently hurt myself too much pre-edit, killing some of the fun. He's a not so shattered Masraik still waiting to finish his duel. I apologize ahead of time for bad form, but I'm learning what I can handle (It would have helped had I known exactly what kind of grenades they were!)

ooc2: Sorry, I'm just edit happy here, but I guess I left out the details on my armor for personal combat. As far as extremities go, my helmet resembles that of a riot police's mask, with a full plate coif around the neck and back of the head. It extends its ventilation down around the front of the neck. Gloves and boots are designed similar to each other, both like that of a knights full plate greaves and gauntlets, but with material, flexibility, and scale design of the rest of my armor. The entirety of the inside is lined with a body armor kevlar tight suit, with neurological fibers that connect to my nerve endings in skin. The treads of my 'boot' (kinda missing some now! lol) is a rubber-metal synthesized compound that becomes a hardened metal in soft terrain environments such as this, and a soft sole for stealth and traction on solid surfaces like rock and metal. It's controlled by the same neurosystem link.

Casper looked to Kindle, and smirked at her enthusiasm. Melee sparring was not his purpose, but the programming was still there nonetheless. He nodded at her and stepped inside the sim, shouldering his carbine and moving away from where Azreal and Masraik were beginning thier own party. Azreal's purpose for single combat was lost to Casper, but as the mission commander, his orders were to be follows. At least, that's how this android saw it.

Facing Kindle, Casper raised his hands in a defensive martial arts style. It was really all he had to go with. "I'm afraid my style is a bit robotic still. Most of my experience is in avoiding fights," he said as he waited for Kindle to initiate her attack.

"Well, melee isn't my strongest suit either", Kindle replied to Casper {That's not to say I'm not strong at it though..hehe}, "I've never trained Martial Arts before, so this'll be interesting...atleast it'll pass the time until the group sims happen, which I think'll be more benefial for the both of us".

While speaking Kindle had unlinked her plasma rifle, unsure if Casper knew what she was doing "It's more useful for group action or against multiple targets".

"Here I come, Techie-o-mine". Kindle activated her energy cells, she limited her maximum outputs to 20% (7mph) speed and 5000lbs of force. She targeted Casper and rushed at him dead on, allowing her back grip to release Jackal ((her sword, 5 1/2 inch wide blade longsword)) into her hand, bringing it over her head in momentum-built-up down swing towards the android.

Expecting him, as per his description, to avoid the attack, Kindle at end swing let the grip of her sword go solely to her right hand, drawing her .45, and using a backwards springing step, let loose 4 shots.

*edited strength from 500 to 5000, it is in pounds per square inch*

OOC: lol that didn't take much convincin her to go for me. Mire why the interest in me? :P I'm just your friendly neighborhood replica of you lol

IC:Watching the spectacles before him, he grinned beneath his mask. He thought of who he'd personally like to spar against at this point, but she beat him to it. He remembered working with her on one mission before and that it didn't end well...but that was it. Every time he tried to remember more, it felt like his head was getting split in half. So he often just ignored trying to have many memories. Glancing her up and down as she spoke "Partner up?" an interesting look appeared on her.

"Well, I must say that you were who I'd be hoping to spar against. So the answer's a yes." Walking alongside her into the room, he stopped a couple feet inside and rolled his neck. Crouching slightly, he held his right hand slightly back and his left hand held forward. "Ready when you are."

OOC: Even tho I should be sleeping, I decided to post...bleh. I guess that my professor is lenient if I accidently sleep through class tomorrow....

IC:

Abaddon didn't give him much of a chance, once he said, "Ready when you are." Asterael, previously held haphazardly in one hand's fingers and leaning against the ground, lept up as if alive into Abaddon's waiting left palm, her doubled grasp tight against the leather grips in the hand holes. She angled the contraption so that her right hand was up next to her ear, and her left was far in front of her face. She brought it down in a sweeping motion, bringing the scythe of the right handed blade perilously close to Matt's body. If he was as skilled as she remembered, he would dodge that blatant move fairly easily, as Abaddon's reflexes weren't up to par yet, and her speed was only about a quarter of what she could usually squeeze out of her limbs.

Apollyon growled at Abaddon, almost breaking her concentration. <You could've used that upstroke with the left to aim for his groin, then follow up with the down stroke to the neck and shoulder. Now your feet are sloppy...just let me take over.> She could feel Apollyon wrestle for control as she watched for Matt's counterstrike, if there was going to be one as she lept backward, attempting to get out of his range.

Abaddon sighed, both mentally and physically. <Go ahead...but go easy on him, unless it is possible that you'll lose.>

Apollyon snorted, and this time it was physical as well. <I don't go easy on anyone. You ought to know that by now.>

As Apollyon took control, the Asterael came down from being parallel to the ground with a left-handed sweep, twisting her left wrist and forcing her elbow out while making the blade perpendicular with the ground((EDIT OOC: AKA, she just drops it from her right hand. Only the motion is controlled and...graceful. Sorry, felt like writing it that way. ^_^)). Her stance relaxed, and her form shifted to the proper stance. With her free hand, she made an old-fashioned goading gesture, lifting the index finger towards Matt and gesturing him forward.

All of this happened in the time it took for Masraik to unclip his shield, and for Azra to jump over him, without the grenades exploding.

OOC: Go ahead and say she blocks if you use your blade. That is what she is prepared for, after all, and I won't mind a slight PRP. I give you permission in order to write out a longer post. ^_^

ooc: Remember Mas, you aren't ACTUALLY HURT. The creates appropriate sensations of pain and heat and cold, and restricts movement through the careful use of force fields, and even the appearance of wounds through the use of holograms, but you aren't actually hurt, though we can say, I suppose that a computer smart enough to do all this would be smart enough to factor in your own personal healing factor into its simulation.

And the grenades are fairly standard frag grenades in this instance.

IC:
Azrael took the satisfying moment of the explosion to pull on of the many turnicate cords built into his armor, staunching the illusory flow of blood from his wounded shoulder. Checking his range of motion, he had difficulty moving his arm above his shoulder, and fairly intense pain moving it at all, but he could deal with pain. He slung his rifle into place, switching to plasma bolts, that armor had to be near its max point for heat dispersal after turning those explosions away, a few more rounds and it might just overload.

Pearing through the already settling debri cloud he spotted a hulking black form, moving stiffly, rising up. Aiming he fired a burt of intensely blue plasmsa, moving rapidly away from the spot, he continued firing and bolting zig zagging, hoping to use the thinning dust cloud and his smaller size to keep the hopefully disoriented hulk from retaliating. His aim was good, but he was moving more than he was aiming, to keep that wicked shield blade from finding him again.He continued his tactic, waiting to see how his opponent would react, and whether or not his armor would be out done by the rapid buildup of energies.

ooc:Not my best, sorry, but busy today and wanted to get soething posted.

WE'll keep the duels going till monday at the latest, maybe longer if we have some good ones going, but I will likely put us into a group combat scenario sometime monday.

OOC: matt - balaclava. the mask thing.

Edit: for some reason, it didn't show me this page. The last thing it let me see was Matthias' post putting on his equipment. I'm going to make more to this post as a retro-post.

edit: done posting.

IC: Quantas saw the move as it was happening and narrowed his eyes in irritation. The hulking beast flung it at him and Quantas flung his hand up, catching it between his index and middle fingers and spun it through the rest thereafter, diffusing it's momentum. He can't just take "no" for an answer, he thought. Looking at it speculatively he removed the vial from the injector and when they reached the sim threw it into a locker for those using it. He'd ask the doctors later whether it was necessary or recommended.

Longview brooded the rest of the time he was preparing. He forsook his sniping equipment, save the weapon interfacing tools, and instead took on the role of assault support. Rather than front line brute force, he was the mop up and, obviously, supportive roles. Taking two combat knives, two handguns, and, as Azreal had, a multipurpose assault rifle, he gathered up more simulated ammo than either Azreal or Abaddon. Being wary of grenades since one time way back when, he decided to skip them this time. Next he chose one of his favorite newer body armor innovations. Next he put on a pair of knuckled gloves, which each studded knuckle resembling a kubatan's sharp pointed cone.

Affixed to a spidersilk bodysuit, the pressure sensitive gels go rigid or simply absorb impact energy depending on the quantity of energy and how spread out it is. Absolutely no affect to armor piercing tungsten rounds, due to the extremely effective design of the things, but at least to the normal conventional weaponry it minimizes to convenient bruising at the most, unless point blank. Best of all, it was lightweight and better to his liking than the over-protective rigid body-suit school of thought. It was much easier to make the moves necessary at times for the missions he was given. In the situation they were going to go into after the sim, it was likely he'd have to resort to it thought.

His eye-piece was lifted onto his forehead as he walked up to Azreal and the rest. After more brooding while Az talked, he nodded his readiness. Seeing the only one not matched up, Bryan, he raised his arms up in an exaggerated shrug while looking at him. "Looks like it's us," he said. Not too long after, he heard a couple of explosions from Azreal and Masraik's location and took a look. He chortled in amusement and looked back at Bryan. Quantas started again, "You're made for Melee. I'm made for Ranged. Should be a good one."

He flexed his hands, tightening his gloves, and held a hand on his assault rifle in a neutral position. "Let's rock."

IC: Masraik's ears were ringing from the from blast. He didn't realize it until the first barrage of energy blasts connected with him in seemingly random locations. The first shot hit him square in the shield, deflecting the majority of the blast directly into the air. The second caught him in his left rib cage, jolting him around a bit, only before the third one connected with his left knee. That last one knocked his leg out from under him, and he had to catch himself, rolling quickly to his left side and taking a kneel.

<That bastard must have his rifle on full power! He's either worried since those grenades obviously weren't enough, or I must have either nicked him and he needs to end this.> Redirecting his healing to his ear drums, Masraik was quickly able to get rid of the ringing, since it was such a small repair. Masraik continued to take random glancing blows, but now he could hear the tell-tale thwip of the energy blasts as they were being fired. The dust was also clearing, so Mas was able to see where most of the new shots would be coming from as he tracked the shadow moving through the cloud. <I'll be in deep trouble if he actually holds still and aims for the same spot!>

Rolling over to his right this time, Mas did his best to think of something while he defended himself. <This is going to hurt... a lot.> His shield was already becoming searing red, and the areas where the few blasts had connected weren't doing so well either. Especially his knee; it was glowing from the grenades and Mas couldn't stand much more of the heat. He reached his arm back, and shoved it into the ground as hard as he could in the direction of Azrael's shadow. The razor sharp blades on the edge of his shield, with the force of a pile-driver, dug the entire three feet into the ground. As the shield was being plunged underground, he took another couple of hits to his right side, this time without the shield being there, searing him with the burning heat of the reddening metal. He pulled the trigger, which projected the blade outward while underground while he simultaneously ripped upwards. The blade extended the full 20 foot length as it tore through the earth and showered the area with dirt. <This isn't enough!> Without even retracting the blade, Masraik spun his arm overhead a full circle as hard as he could, doing a downward sweep in Azrael's direction, but aiming mostly at the ground in front of him.

As the blade ripped across the ground in front of Azrael, Masraik retracted it and rolled to his side again to hide in the cloud as best he could. It wouldn't last though, for Mas was about to give away his position. He looked up again at where his other half hung dug into the ceiling. He made a wide sweeping swing of his shield, releasing the claw whip. The whip wrapped around the left half perfectly clasping onto itself. Masraik retraced the blade as he ripped backwards, effectively yanking it free and right into the ground at his feet. <Perfect!> Masraik dove to reattach the other half.

OOC: I understand this is a bit cinematic and flashy, so if you feel so inclined to stick with the cinematic concept here, you're welcome to shoot at the left half and knock it around or something (ya know, while its coming to me mid air and all). If this wasn't going to be your action, then go ahead with part two (an if / then statement meant for if I acquire my other shield).

IC (part two! if then): As Mas rolled forward he slammed his left arm into the back of the shield. It immediately wrapped its self around his forearm and re-released the handle for the blaster. Masraik held his right arm up in a horizontal position in front of himself to block any lucky blasts that may have found his upper body in the dust cloud. With his left arm still leveled with the ground, Masraik proceeded to rapid fire the blaster in a quarter circle pattern along the ground, blasting more dirt into the air and hoping for a leg hit. Just for good measure, he sacrificed defense long enough to do a another ripping swing in a larger half circle swing in front of himself. This was also aimed for legs, but this time he hoped that the dirt from the blaster and noise from its continued explosive shots would drown out the clinks of the whip mechanism releasing and ripping through the air.

OOC: sheesh Ren, just take the bloody thing why you always gots to be obstinate? ;)

IC:
Azrael was continueing his dodging, expecting some sort of retaliation as the dust cloud settled and he became increasingly easy to track. He wasn't sure what exact armaments Masraik had, and he didn't want any nasty suprises. He continued firing, peppering the form before him with hot plasma when he recieved such a suprise. A thud followed by an explosion of dirt. He had to change course abruptly as his ears detected the whistle of the blade seconds before it passed through the space where his shins had been. Mas was doing the opposite of what he had expected, renewing the dust cloud rather than letting it settle and trying to close range with Azrael.

<He must be hurt, mobility limited. He's tryign to keep me at a distance and hide until he can get himself back together.> Azrael considered throwing a couple of nades over to flush him out, but decided against it. He'd need them for the general battle he had planned, and he didn't like using the same move twice in a row. His general pondering was cut short as the blade suddenly lashed out towards the shield fragment that had embedded in the cieling. Pulling it back. He let it fall. It was too heavy to be deflected signifacnatly by any of his armaments anyway.

Then the real dirt storm started, blasts and blade whips kept the dust flying, and Azrael dodging, do much so that he stopped firing, letting his rifle slide back into its unused position, itsbody strap holding it in place. He was pelted by simulated dirt and rocks, recieving some minor bruises, injuring his shoulder some more. As the blade flew out he barely had warning to enough to avoid being struck. As it was he barely had time to move out of the way. As he dodged back one of the blasts caught him at his ankles, pulling his feet out from under him. He rolled in a heap, feeling the painful twist of his ankle as he came came back out of his tumble. He grunted with pain. His shoulder flaring anew, a fresh splash of blood slicking his arm.

Azrael shook his head trying to clear it from the pain. <He really thinks he can hide from me like this?> His senses were derived from animals that far supassed humans in their abilites and had in turn been tweaked by the protocols to far surpass the animals. He normally percieved things in the visible human spectra, other ranges just tended to feel... uncomfortable, the protocol base had never been designed with ultraviolet light signatures in mind, or the aesthetics of heat signatures. Supersonics were out, the dirt would interfere too much with his echolocation, but that armor was nice and toasty at this point, and as his vision dimmed to the infra red spectra, the form of Masraik showed up a splotchy red with nearly glowing white splotches at his knee and shield.

<Should have aimed more, played less> Azrael reprimanded himself. Then he drew his sword, and moving quickly and quietly through the dirt, circled behind his now silent foe. The dirt and dust still obscuring the air, Azrael focused on staying steady on his injured ankle. Azrael was unsure how acute Masraiks hearing was, so as soon as he was in position he put on a burst of speed, running in a flash past the back of Masraik, slicing outward with his sword hoping to catch Masraik on the back of the knee where his armor would have to be lighter.

As he swung though his ankle siezed, the force shield, causing it to give way from its imagined damge. His stirke would be true, but he fell tumbling painfully on past his target, losing his sword and having his rifle dig painfully into his torse. He managed to roll back onto his feet, Disoriented, trying to clear his head rapidly.

He grinned, she wasn't going to let anything be easy for this. He rolled to his right to avoid the swing, drawing his katana while doing so. Holding it with his left hand towards the bottom of the hilt, his right slightly above his left, he pointed the sword behind him so he was holding it essentially upside down. Swinging upwards as he stood, aiming for a stomach slash up to about chest level. However, she was right there with her counter-measure following her strike. Abbadon blocked the blade at about her hip level and twisted her own weapon slightly to cause him to be pushed back a foot or so.

He was happy to be sparring with her, she was good and this wouldn't be easy in any stretch of the imagination. Holding his katana in his right hand regularly now, he drew two of his throwing daggers with his left. He aimed one at her right shoulder and the other at her right thigh, throwing them one immediately after the other. The moment the second one left his hand, he aimed a side-swiping slash at stomach level aimed to strike at her left side before slashing across the middle of her stomach.