Archangel Protocols: Revival IC

OOC: Sorry about the length. I felt it may be appropriate with my current schedule to get in what I could, when I could.

IC: Looking around at Casper and Longview, Mas mentally kicked himself. <Of course they can provide their own cover... I guess stealth is better than durability at times.> As he turned around to rip his shields from the ground, Masraik took several rounds to his backside. Most of them mere lead balls, some heavier 'armor piercing' rounds. He just laughed at those. But after pulling his right shield from the ground, and as he went to retrieve his left half, he took a heavy artillery round to the back of the head. The force smashed him face forward into the front of the car hood directly in front of him.

Muffled in the fiberglass and steel of the car, Mas was growling. He tore his head out of the metal and retrieved his other shield half without even turning around. When he did, his face was hot. The round had not been incredibly ineffective. It had mildly dented the ribbing, but had turned the metal a warm orange color, cracked his mask with the impact of the car's engine to his face, and had broken his nose with the whiplash impact against his face mask. "That was uncalled for!" He yelled at the swarm of bodies coming towards them.

Mas heard Longview yell down for someone to take care of the tank. <Wait, tank? If the tank was firing at him, what the hell just took a pot shot at me?> "Casper, Kindle, high artillery power from unknown location targeting front lines. Find it. Quintas, I've got your tank. Azrael, I can't sit back and WAIT to give them melee range when we don't even know where all the firepower is coming from!"

With that, Mas slapped his shield together and rotated it around so that the long end covered his lower legs, giving him full cover. He took a quick glance around the side of his shield as he bolted forward, staying along the left side of the street, using the buildings to grand cover from surprise attacks on his left side. He counted. <A small battalion, more soldiers than he could count due to mass and lack of line of sight.>

"Eight soldier transport vehicles. One visible tank, one potential other in the rear. Oh, SPGs (Self propelled guns, light armored tanks essentially), maybe that's what nailed me. Looks like a handful of m110s, upgraded, and what looked like a few Paladins, but with better technology than he's encountered before. Seriously? Did I just run by an anti aircraft Vulcan Azrael? What the hell? There's too much to count." <The best thing for me in all these enemies is to put myself in the thick of it all, they won't likely risk shooting each other.>

Masraik felt his shield pelted with explosion after explosion, artillery and lead, and a few energy pulses and plasma blasts. <Not good!> Mas ducked low, and spun his shield halves back around to the proper hands. The tank was front line, right dead center. Taking the punishment, Mas was turned and twisted and knocked back from round after round. But still he raised his right blade and leapt onto the cannon of the tank, slicing down the center of the shaft. He ripped his blade free, twisted around, and slammed his left fist into the side of the cannon where it was cut, bending it inward clogging it before any other rounds could be released.

Twisting around, Masraik was prepared for the infantry that would come around to get him away from the tank. But none came. Where were they? Wham! Again, Mas found himself face first into something solid. This time, it was the asphalt, and before he could jump up, he was pelted again in the lower back, holding him down into the ground. Thankfully, the asphalt was soft enough to absorb most of the blow, but each round hit him in a vital location, and these were by no means light rounds. "Snipers damn it, snipers, get rid ..."

Once again, he couldn't finish his thought. The sniper rounds had pinned him in place long enough for the tank to begin running over him. It started with his left hand, pinning the shield on top of his left arm, preventing him from making a counter attack with his blaster to knock the tank back away from him. The scales in his armor helped redistribute the weight around his body like an exoskeleton, preventing his arm from being crushed by the 70 ton war machine, but it was about to start crawling over his head, and his face shield was already shattered. "Sorry guys, I have no choice..."

Mas brought his right arm around fast, stabbing the blade tip into the tank treads and angling it downward so that it stuck into the pavement and slowed the tank long enough for the transformation. He reached up, and punched his index and middle finger into his right rib cage, between the scales, where he kept his emergency vial tucked into his gills. Almost instantly, he felt the liquid pour into his lungs, choking him at first, as it always did. The protein enhanced formula worked fast, pumping nutrients into his bloodstream via aveoli. His body rippled and tore itself apart, starting from the tendons and ligaments... the body parts that got blood last. The rest of his body outgrew the connective parts of his body, temporarily turning him into a fleshy bag of overgrown muscle and bone. It was unbearably painful, and anyone near bye could tell due to the wailing pain he showed with screams of agony and gasps for breath. When he finally stopped twitching, over the course of only fives seconds, Mas blacked out.

He became the beast he hated to become. But in his attempt of immortal grandeur, he had been imprisoned by his own pride. Now, he would have to unleash the primal creature that he was not meant to be. Growing a monstrous eight and a half foot tall, and approximately six foot wide, he had become what could be described as an abomination; a black scaled gorilla with an intelligence level beyond any human, but the uncontrollable restraint of a bear whose cub was endangered.

Mas flexed his left bicep under the tank with enough force to break solid steel bangles. He simultaneously pulled the trigger on his downward faced left shield and knocked the tank off the ground with enough force to rip his arm from underneath it. Abandoning all reason, and the right half of his shield, Masraik rolled to the side of the tank, sliced the armor plating on the side; the plating that allowed a soldier to look out from the inside and fire his turrets. With his left hand covering his face, he reached out and ripped the sliced panel away from the tank and held it up to his head. His face was vulnerable...
With both hands, he bent the 2 inch thick plating around his head only enough to allow full range of movement, but let him see through the slit in the metal, and still provide his shattered mask protection. The soldier inside cried for help... Masraik reached through the hole and grabbed the first soft object he could find. He ripped backwards. Something broke, and he saw red spray past his new mask. Good.

Looking to his right he saw another soldier poorly attempting to effect him with an energy blaster. Ha, electricity. He reached forward and grabbed it by its head, squeezed, crushed, and flung it into the ranks. Several more showed up. He roared and his frontal scales blasted open at an angle small enough that ammunition from in front or from above would not reach into. He blasted the immediate area with his poison, reaching out to probably only the nearest 10 or more soldiers. That was fine.

Mas was slammed from behind. He must have been ignoring sounds. Sounds didn't matter, nothing could touch him now. Let them approach unheeded. He attempted to turn, but realized he was in cable restraints. A flick of the wrist severed the cables wrapped around him with his bladed protection. Upon turning, he saw the mecha. Some sorry pre-collapse attempt at large androids. Mas took one quick step forward, slashed out at the knee joint of the mecha and severed it in half with ease. Before it could fall, he placed his blaster directly beneath the tilting body and pulled the trigger causing it collapsed in on itself.

Left and right Masraik tore through weak soldier after weak soldier. Where was the real fight? He couldn't even tell if the blasts that had taken him down earlier were even hitting him anymore. It felt great! With another roar, Masraik coiled his legs taunt, and leapt into the air on top of one of the troop transport vehicles probably 15 feet away. Coming down, blade swinging with the momentum of 800 something pounds behind it, he easily sliced halfway through the vehicle as if it were flesh. Oh wait, that was flesh too. He laughed inwardly as he removed his blade.

Three panther like androids were leaping from vehicle to vehicle, coming at him fast. Before he had time to react, two leapt by, nanowire net attached between their two tails, sweeping across Masraik's knees. He laughed, until the ever elusive mystery artillery round connected with the back of his head again, nailing his face once more into the solid surface in which he stood. The third panther then pounced, tearing the shield from Masraik's left hand. Fearless yet pinned, still, he laughed.

Matthias nodded as she told him to cover the 5th. Well cover weren't be enough. Turning his head quickly back towards the others, he saw the chaos ensueing as everything was basically becoming overrun. However this is when they best fought, as he saw several head towards buildings and better cover. Only allowing several soldiers at a clip to approach each one would turn the tide towards them, even with the overwhelming numbers.

Pulling his modified gun of his right thigh, he held it up ready to aim as he crouched behind his cover. As soon as Kindle popped herself out to fire, he did the same. Aiming slightly next to the sniper on the 5th and firing over each shoulder and hitting the walls on either side once. Making the sniper think it was random spray from the battle but still making him duck for a moment as his friend's head was blasted through. Grinning slightly, he aimed for the kill shot and took it. A small sight on his gun acted like a scope as he lined it up on the scope of the sniper. Pulling the trigger let his shot run through the sniper's scope, through his eye and out the back of his head. 'One down.' He thought as he tapped Kindle on the shoulder motioning that he'd take the lead again towards the building and tapping the side of his mask. "Synch team speech, specific target: Kindle." He said, having his mask synch up with the team's frequency of comms but then targeting Kindle solely to speak with her directly without the extra chatter.

Putting his gun up in firing position, he sprinted to the entrance of the building. Peeking at the angle he had, he didn't see anyone on that side. He quickly switched to the other side of the door frame and peeked in again. "Kindle. Clear, move up and get those visions up. Your eyes are ready to go." Sliding into the building and taking the left side wall, he did a small sweep of the immediate area. It was a relatively large opened lobby looking area with a staircase on the far wall leading up and what used to be an elevator shaft towards the right side of the lobby.

Kindle entered the building not too long after he said he was ready. She surveyed the area as he noticed she must've changed her modes of vision. He spoke as he approached her "It's only 6 stories, so clearing most of it shouldn't take too long. As long as the lowest few floors are clear, the rest can be cleared as they get here and we need to clear them." Walking towards the staircase after taking a look and determing the lobby clear, he motioned to Kindle to follow. "You lead the way with those visions while I keep an eye out normally."

ooc: Your turn to prp clearin the next floor if you want or however far you wanna go with me :)

With Longview's rather ambitious climb up the face of the building, and Masraik's rather deadly antics among the enemy ranks, Casper found himself to be quite inconspicuous. He shouldered his rifle and rounded the building away from the fighting. Leaping up to a windowsill ledge, Casper gained a foothold and begen scaling the wall quite easily. The damage inflicted on it along with the evenly spaced windows made for a simple climb. He climbed all the way to the top, and peeked over the edge. He could hear the loud bangs of pre collapse sniper weapons and smoothly slid behind an AC unit while drawing his laser pistols.

"Report in Casper, any good targets?" Longview's update came over his comm.

Quietly, Casper responded, "Standby for target painting. Sixty seconds."

Casper dashed from the AC unit silent as a ghost and discharged his left hand pistol into the head of one sniper and the right hand pistol into the heart of the other. Both men fell from the roof. Noticing only a single door emptying onto the roof, Casper ran over to it adn grasped the steel door frame with both hands. Bending the metal and melting the door to the frame with his pistol, the door was secure. He returned to the ledge in a prone position.

His optics were designed to discount the need for binoculars, and his systems had built-in laser painting software. By this time, Longview hopefully had his helmet calibrated to see the otherwise invisible laser Casper would shoot from his rifle. Sweeping the area, he first noticed a static mortar crew deployed at the end fo the street. They were invisible at eye level, but were getting good hits on Masraik. Pulling the trigger on his rifle, his central computer gained the distance and windspeed via the link in his hand connected to the rifle and transmitted it to Longview, as well as sending a laser into a box off mortar shells next to the crew.

"Mark," Casper said, confirming the current read was his target.

OOC: Feel free to have Casper paint more targets for you Rensha.

Azrael was busy picking targets off, trying to sow disruption in the ranks where he could. Dodging from cover to cover, working his way towards the advancing enemy. Where he could really disrupt their movements. They were starting to get hit with some heavy artillery, but the snipers were keeping it under control. The team seemed to be working well, following the plan such that it was. Azrael watched as one tank gorund to a halt, blocking the tanks behind it, and squashing several troops. Before him was death and chaos.

This was what he was created for. He let out a burst with his assault rifle, each bullet taking a different individual in the temple. A man in power armor surged out of the crowd, rushing towards him, It looked like a strange industrial machine with a human pilot, it stood twelve feet tall, and the pilot was encased in steel and a screen of high density bulletproof glass. It surged forward, a minigun coming to bear on him. A spray of bullets tore towards him, chewing up earth and pavement. He grabbed one of his throwing knives and with superhuman precision, threw it, wedging it between the rotating barrels, stopping the gun cold. With a mettallic whine servos overheated, and jammed. The pilot shook his controls angrily, but it was already over. With a sprint that would have left many fleet footed animals in the dust Azrael was upon him, before the clumsy armor could react he had already reached tits body. Pulling the releases the cockpit swung open. A few psistol rounds later and the machine was useless and the rider even more so.

The encounter had taken only a few seconds but when he looked back up he cursed. Mas was barrelling into the enemy troops. Attacking them head on. He needed to retrieve him, they were going to need to get into that building and try and hold down the fort as long as possible. No matter how hardy Masraik was he wasn't going to last long in that horde.

Using his radio he broadcast "Snipers I want you trying to keep anything particularly nasty off of Me, Abaddon, and Masraik. Use your best judgment." One of the reasons Azrael loved working with Archangels was because they never needed too much instruction. Human soldiers wanted everything ordered one way or another. "Abbadon, with me, I think we'll need to extract our living wall from the mess he's going to get himself into."

With that he began hurtling towards the massed enemy troops. From this point he could see groups breaking off, heading around the other buildings in order to flank them, close them in. He hoped the others had found a secure spot to hide, something at least moderately stable and without too many entrances. They could hold a building indefinantly if the enemy didn't just knock it down or have too many holes to crawl through.

He hit the first rank running, losing sight of the massive Masraik, he fired his rifle point blank into the ranks, sheering down all in his path. He moved through them like a scythe through wheat. These were soft targets though. The general masses of the Corponations forces, barely trained conscripts with old or worn tech and no armor to speak of. He heard explosions nearby, and saw the large form of Masraik go down, near a tank. He cursed. "Someone do something about that tank now!" He yelled into the comm." Before the sentence was out of his mouth though he heard the unbelievable screams of pain. "Damn thing must be running him over. Damn it all!" He tried rushing forward, hoping to save his compatriot still. Then the yells stopped. He fought on out of reflex, but was already preparing to give himself and Abaddon the command to retreat.

Then the tank bucked. Then Masraik, literally began ripping the tank apart with his hands. "By Deus..." He knew the uncontrallable nature of the transformation, but the sheer power of it... <If they ever get that under controll his pool will be huge... literally and numerically. Such raw power...> He followed gaurding Masraik's back for what it was worth. Killing and soldier that came near him. It was almost all autonomic, his thoughts focused entirely on what Masraik was doing, waiting to see if he would turn.

FInally some old Hunter droids managed to snag him in a durasteel net, that probably owuldn't have been enough to hold him except for the artillery strike on his head. <Damn... Guess its time to come to the rescue.>

Over the com he said "Someone see if you can take out an artillery encampment, they have Mas pinned and me and Abaddon need to get some hunter droids off of him. Abbbadon Help me get these droids off of him." With that he sprinted forward, literally leaping over a row of soldeirs between him and the closest hunter droid. He fired a splatter of plasma sheels onto its back, badly damaging one of its legs. The thing had limited intelligence but was ferocious in close quarters. He could take one maybe two, but not all three." THe one he had fired upon whirled away from Masraik, snarling. It was designed to imitate one of the feral predators of Pre collapse society, in order to induce fear into the hearts of its victims. It's organic compliment was part of his genome.

He growled back, and fired a burst of plasma, splashing it across the units head, the growl dieing in its throat. THe other two began converging he fired a blast of plasma, but already they had adapted, dodging it easily. They closed and he drew his sword, hoping Abaddon would have his back, he still called out "Mas if you can hear me snap out of it, we have to retreat."

They were already too deep in enemy lines. Too deep to extricate themselves probably. Then thought was washed away as the first droid engaged, claws swiping, teeth biting. THe other lurked at the edge of his vision, searching for an opening, waiting for a weakness, he would not give it to them. And even while he focused on the fight at hand bullets flew and troops closed in.

ooc: more later. feel free to pwp me a little Mir.

Masraik took one blow after another in the same spot between his shoulders, smashing him further and further into the transport vehicles roof that he had nearly sliced in two. <One of the feral androids were broken? This is my battle!>

Masraik tried to push himself up against the steady stream of blasts that kept him on his stomach. He grabbed hold of the sides of the vehicle as he tried to pull himself up, taking the blows. With each blow, Masraik held his ground, but the roof of the vehicle began to split in half, forced apart by Mas's hands as if they were jaws of life. One of the panthers swiped his left hand out from under him, and with the next two rounds from the unknown assailant he was crushed into the vehicle through the crack.

<Wonderful.> Masraik was being pelted by small arms fire from the soldiers that had run out of the vehicle when he landed on it. He reached up, grabbed each side of the rift in the vehicle and crushed it back together, giving the outside combatants nothing to shoot at. Then he grabbed the net wrapped around his legs and ripped. Each cable snapped with a solid crack and whipped through the air eating into the interior of the vehicle. <Humans? They are nothing!>

He ripped the exit ramp asunder pulling his frame through the opening for normal sized troops. He reached out and swiped. One, two, three, four soldiers he grabbed with both arms. Two died from the impact with fellow soldiers, snapping neck and spine. The other two Mas held around the ribs and slowly squeezed, ignoring the constant rain of firepower upon his head. Snapping ribs and ejecting bowels from their mouths he was satisfied. He dropped the four soldiers from the bear hug and looked for the hunter droids.

They look familiar, a green man and a frosty white woman. The green one was taking his prey... Mas leapt again from his location, towards the green one and the animal he tangled with. He snatched it from mid air as it leapt at the green one and crushed it at the neck, grabbed its tail and swung it full might into a close civilian vehicle. The vehicle crumbled like paper, wrapping is frame around the droid and careened into the side of the weak concrete building, plowing through its wall. A look, that's all he gave the green one, that's all he needed to give.

OOC: ACK!!! I accidentally refreshed the page and...bye-bye post. I forgot that THAT was the reason why I almost always did posts in word...go laziness....

IC:

When the scenery changed, Apollyon let go of their body. Not prepared for it, Abaddon quickly stepped in, but she still staggered. It was slightly embarrassing. <Dang it, Apollyon. Warn me before you do that next time.> she thought, glaring mentally at a mentally laughing Apollyon.

<You better watch your surroundings, dearie. Your man just gave you orders.> Apollyon was still full of irritating mirth. Growling, she took up a position near Azra, pulling out her hand gun to take aim for the vital points of several soldiers. Her speed wouldn't be useful unless it was for dodging at the moment, and her senses were kaput with all the explosions, dust, and gunpowder. Growling, she fired off a could of rounds, changing out clips as needed.

She must not have been paying very much attention, because as she turned to see how Azrael was doing, he talked to her over her comm unit. Sneering at Mas, she said, "Yes, sir," and ran to catch up with the fleeing form that was Azra. She caught up quickly, dodging when needed and managing to avoid any wounds on her white body or rips in her black clothing. She ripped the Asterael off the back harness that she wore, not remembering ever putting it away, and holstered her hand gun. This was her forte, what she reveled in and was born for. Several stupid solders thought that, becasue she was a woman, that she would be like a human woman: weaker than her male counterpart. She actually let out a laugh as she decapitated a hapless soldier.

<Abaddon...be careful. Here, let me take over again,> Abaddon snarled, mentally and out loud, startling a few soldiers enough that her speed was able to get past their meager defenses. She noticed the tank out from the corner of her eye, but wasn't too worried about it. It was when it was suddenly...dismembered that she did a double-take on it, worried about what it was that was able to do that.

It was that jerk, Masraik.

Abaddon suddenly found that she had a lot more respect for the Pure one.

As the giant came towards Azrael, she became afraid, much like that day that they had saved each others lives. She screamed, "Azrael!! Look out!" a moment before Masraik grabbed a 'droid out of midair and made an android on car sandwich. He then looked at Azra, and Anger with a capital A surged through her, causing her to work faster and stronger than she had in years.

There was a circle of carnage around her already, but she still jumped over it to be literally back-to-back with Azra, keeping one eye on the monster that Masraik had become. Growling, she tried again what Azra had tried earlier. "C'mon you jerk, recognize us. Or I SWEAR on my next 4 bodies that I will NEVER even CONSIDER taking that damned antidote. Ever. And if it's your poisons fault that two or more of them are used up...I'll blame it all on you and your stupidity."

Longview was hastily please when a signal popped onto his HUD. His goggles caught the laser like an oasis in a desert. Unmistakable. Problem is, chances were that someone else would see it too. "Don't paint. We have too many variables on enemy targets. Just give me the bearings and watch my back," Quantas suggested. He relaxed his muscles and waited for the next round to get ready to load before he fired. It wasn't a sniper rifle, but it would have to do. How he missed his "Sling" in this mission. But it wouldn't be a snipe-fest for long, he could tell.

The opportunity presented itself and Quantas fired, just as Azreal asked someone to take care of artillery. He grinned and pulled the trigger, hitting the mortar as the loader tossed it in. The mortar flew wildly as the round grazed it, and exploded a moment later. The loaded explosive didn't leave the muzzle at a very high velocity, or angle for that matter, and just blew away the area like a frag. "Hmph," Longview grunted and fired at the flinching loaders, trying to hit their stash of explosive rounds.

"Mas, if you can hear me, snap out of it! We have to retreat," he heard in his earpiece. He scanned the field and didn't take long to spot the behemoth. Protocols be blessed, I knew he was an animal, he thought surprised. But that's a little different. Even tales of Michael... Suddenly his thoughts stopped as he ripped the panther-bot apart and looked at Azreal. His finger put pressure on the trigger, and Masraik in the sights. He didn't fire yet, but his stance was looking threatening... His eyes went wide and he rolled to the side. There was a lightly cyber-enhanced human. "The Ol' Cruncher" type of modification he had seen in other sims involving pre-collapse tech. He had heard that the arm enhancements had the consequences of never really healing all the way. It was too much modification for the time-period though, nasty nasty immune-system doping drugs to keep rejection at a minimum.

That was close, he thought, as the ground exploded next to him, the metal arms crushing concrete. He fired into the face-plate, which sparked a half dozen times as bullets plowed into it. It wouldn't kill him, though; no that was what it was made for... He kicked the legs out from under the cyborg and popped up. Quantas slid his knife out of the holder on his thigh and dug it quite unceremoniously under the chin and up into his skull. The cyborg twitched as he wrenched it out. Grabbing his armor, Quantas flung him out of the window he was previously sniping from and took another look at the situation, sliding his knife back into it's sheath.

It had only been three or four seconds, but things change instantaneously. He was standing now, but pulled his weapon up to his shoulder regardless. He scanned the area around Azreal and fired at targets around him, but noticed that Abbaddon was there now too. There wasn't anything he could really do against heavily armored targets at this range with this weapon, but it was enough. Three soldiers dropped that were aiming for Azreal only a few feet away while he was busy with Masraik. "Beware, my friendly ghost. I just had a visitor on my level. Cover Azreal and Abbaddon's exit if you can. Make a hole for them to go to. It's getting thick in there." A few shots later, and he called out Azreal. "Time to get out. You've got two Metal-heads coming in by the way," he said. Power armor of a different kind. Smaller units that gave a small boost to strength. They were bulky in their own right, about as fast as a normal human, but a little restricted. Intended to go where tanks couldn't, they were self-enclosed and sealed off from the outside world; air and all.

These two particular ones had 50 cals with grenade launchers. Currently, all he could to was pester. At this range, his bullets would just shatter against their half-inch thick armor. Switching to plasma, he'd give his position away again, but he wasn't exactly worried about it. He fired rounds ahead of the Metal-heads, the slower plasma rounds hitting also a large spread. It distracted them enough when one of them got hit and nudged by the round. Taking a high arc on the launcher the Metal-head stopped and fired the grenade at Longview's position.

Quantas hopped from the window and grabbed the next floor's window beneath him. His body snapped to a halt as he dangled. Grunting in annoyance, he lifted himself up and comm'd to Casper, "I think I'm going to get a little closer. Do some spotting for me, and I'll see if I can hit the targets on the move. I can't do anything with this gun from here. Consider Masraik a neutral player. T'm going to moderate assault role to help out our lonely compatriots."

An explosion in the distance. No more explosions nailing him to the ground. <Another has taken my prey!> Not giving the green or white ones another look, Masraik turned. The last android did not matter, let them toy with it. He wished for bigger things. Worthier opponents. Retreat? There was no meaning to the word. Who was Masraik, why must i listen to this?

Masraik reached up and slammed his fist into the side of his own head to shut up the communicator. He'd forgotten that he had plate wrapping around his head. He couldn't shut it off unless he exposed himself. It did not matter, give the enemy an advantage of stealth under the noise of this ear piece. He reached down and picked up his right blade, and looked upon the ground where his second blade had been tossed by the droid. He went to retrieve it.

Masraik did not receive anymore tormenting blows to the back of the head for the time being. He went to pick up his left blade. Was that one of his scales on the ground? It mattered not, he was invincible. <I will show these god forsaken creatures what being god blessed really means!>

Left and right the monstrosity that was Masraik was pelted with heavy artillery, sniper rounds and mini-tank explosives. None of that seemed to phase him. His armor glowed red hot all over at this point. Some scales bent outward from the impact of high powered newer tech rifles. It was yet to be determined what smashed so hard into Mas, but it probably wasn't the mortars that had just exploded down the street. He was in fact missing several scaled plates where the high impact rounds had connected with him, and in one location they had pierced his kevlar through the left shoulder. Mas ignored it. He was oblivious to the pain, but he was wounded, and vulnerable to a shot in the same location again.

Mas picked up his left blade and attached them both to himself. He cared not for the blaster or the whip in these weapons, they were a weak mans toy. His real love was the extension of his power, the blades that extended past his fists. These allowed him to see his dying foe, they showed him the true fear of man versus god. He smiled behind his plate face shield. He took a deep breath.

Masraik bellowed a roar across the battlefield before him and crouched like the god animal he had become. He leapt back over the transport vehicle where he had mutilated its soldiers. He landed between several regular soldiers and another mech. It took little to cleave them from neck to knee, slicing them in irregular halves. The mech fell with just as much ease, as if made of air. These were small meaningless mechas, useless in design, and piloted by fleshy mortals. He did not even need to focus on the controlling flesh. One swing brought down man and machine in one fell swoop.

Once again, the ghost rounds found Masraik. First plowing into his left shield mid swing at a human trooper. The second round found Mas in the back of his right knee. <I knew it, those aren't mortars, and there is not just one of them.> Mas kneeled in place, waiting for the next round, for he knew it came, and it did.

The next round found him in the same location in the back of the head, this time protected a bit better by the new plating he had formed for himself. But again, the rounds were precise, they found their mark, and continued to pin the goliath where he once stood. This time, he was before two more A.I. mechs, and this time, he recognized the impact from the rest. "Rail gun snipers, must destroy all cover to find them." Again, Masraik laughed. This time, so did his mechanical enemy.

Now that the 2 snipers were taken care of, Kindle felt they could cover their companions. “Sight switched over.” Using her modified sight, she surveyed the building {Az made a good call sending us to the building first, we got here before any of the main force could circle around}. “No powered equipment or AI in the building and no unusual heat patterns, however I can't see a person's natural heat through body armor and floors”.

Kindle walked up the stairs in the lead, second floor was clear. {I need to provide cover NOW...} “Matt, I'm going to set up here and take out some of the heavy units, if you can make sure its clear up to 4th floor, then come back we'll both move up and clear to 6th .” She wasn't trying to order Matt, so she smiled at him hoping he knew that she knew the best way for her to provide fire power.

Moving into the same room as the dead sniper's body, she kicked it aside and unlinked from her SJ3. {I wonder if the Pure Ones that have been frozen for a while got a chance to see what a portable tank weaponry can do?} Kindle quickly and confidently unslung the EM Pipe and loaded it with one of the 16 HEAT rounds.

The speech over the com link began to disturb her {Mas is berserk...those others are gonna talk themselves to death trying to get him out of it, but I'm sure he don't know them enough yet to come back for'em}. Kindle saw strong EM emitters, each operated by 1 person, who in turn was being guarded by 9 others. Chuckling quietly to herself, “Well, now don't he look mighty important” Surveying the body movements around him, and making sure none of the friendlies heat sigs were in the radius of the blast, she timed her shot. Extreme distances were child's play for her, a simple matter of 'power vs gravity'.

She was confident: distance, wind, pollution, and angle...all of these factors were accounted for, centering the shot on what she bet was the source of the heavy artillery being shot at Mas earlier. Kindle's body was in a defensive stance, her body firmly planted and prepared against the soon to come force, “One”...and EXPLOSION! The center of the blast completely annihilated the stationary artillery camp, main operators, and guards. The tanks to the side took heavy irreparable damage, and the infantry that had marched up behind them had most of its troop killed and the rest severely injured. As for herself, as there was no permanent structure to actually brace herself with, she was pushed back to the other side of the room. A normal person would have had their arm torn off and been thrown into the wall.

She spoke over her communicator “One camp down, I can only take out the further away ones otherwise I'd risk heavy injury to ya'll” Still worried about Masraik, Kindle paused for a moment, unsure if her efforts would make a difference {Guess I should atleast try to, he's about the closest person I have to a continuous friend} “Mas, it's Kindle! I totally don't want to pick up body parts <she giggles> particularly not in a sim! If your not fully gone, then regroup with the other Pure Ones”.

While speaking, Kindle had moved back to the window, cleaned the barrel of any trace, and reloaded with another HEAT round. {I need to get some smaller artillery for the ARC, maybe seeking missles} Spotting another camp, she smiled, checked for the absence of friendlies, calculated, aimed, and spoke “Two”...and EXPLOSION. Kindle called herself a sniper, but truly this was her calling 'Heavy Ranged'.

Her family had invested a large portion of their time and wealth into making tank/anti-tank weaponry smaller. Kindle was, and still is, honored at being the jewel of their investments. She hoped she was doing what Az would want her to do {I don't want him to think bombardment is all I can do}. However, all she said over the communicator was “2 camps down”. She wanted to ask how Masraik was coming around when she heard "Rail gun snipers..." {I don't think he's gonna come out of this till all of them are dead}

Then, privately through communicator “Matt, status report, how's your end, and do you need me to move up?”. {The sooner we get to the top floor, the sooner I can plan and create an escpape route for everyone}

ooc: editted bc masraik ninja posted right before i did, to add "rail gun sinpers"

Azrael didn't exactly feel fear, not true fear, he hadn't felt that in a long time, when Masraik looked at him after destorying the droid like it was a childs plaything. What he felt instead was wariness and battle tension, mixed with a spike of extreme annoyance. Mas wasn't in there, he'd seen that look before seen it in the eyes of madmen and monsters. Seen it in his eyes... whose eyes? Pain behind his eyes and he stopped thinking about it. <Stupid... he knew this was a sim and went ahead and used that stuff? Deus Almighty I'm going to rip him a new orifice when we're done with this sim!> Then Abaddon was with him, yelling at Masraik as well. "Forget it," he said to her not broadcasting. "He's not in there, and I don't think he's coming back yet. I do think we'll need to hold this sim until he comes out of it though."

Masraik was gone, but one bot remained. Not to mention the surging field of regular troops. Getting back was going to be a serious problem. Back to back with Abaddon, he wielded his rifle, sticking to high velocity flechets this round. The bot was wary now, without its partners is was less of a threat, but it was still dangerous. Finally it made its move, leaping for him. A normal man would have been shredded before he had time to aim. Azrael put so many rounds into the thing before it was mid leap that it fell backwards, its momentum, and head, completely gone. Just then he heard Quantas over the com "Time to get out. You've got two Metal-heads coming in by the way"

Quietly he cursed under his breath, metal heads were some of the more durable armors left from the pre collapse era... They wouldn't be a problem on their own in the open, but here with enemy topps surrounding them, they would be difficult to say the least. Suddenly pain lanced his left side, a bullet had pierced his side striking below the major armor and making a shallow wound, nothing vital hit that he could feel. He whirled returning fire with his rifle. "Let's move!" He yelled to Abaddon. He then threw one of his last greandes, the resulting explosion bought them room to start moving. He sprinted forward, sword drawn, side bleeding and aching, trying to conserve ammo as he moved through the ranks of regulars. A massive explosion nearly shook him from his feet, he looked back to see a smoking ruin in the illusory distance and heard Kindle's voice chirping over the radio.

"One camp down, I can only take out the further away ones otherwise I'd risk heavy injury to ya'll." Then after a pause "Mas, it's Kindle! I totally don't want to pick up body parts <she giggles> particularly not in a sim! If your not fully gone, then regroup with the other Pure Ones”.

Azrael was impressed by the firepower she carried as a second explosion told him she'd hit another artillery site. "Forget, Mas, Abaddon and me are coming out, Mas has made his bed. Cover us as best you can. We're coming." Then they were upon the troops that had been moving to encircle them and Masraik. He forced himself to move normally, slicing through soldier after soldier, feeling the illusory bullet dig deeper into his side.

Behind him he heard the tell tale clanking of the metal heads approaching. "Keep moving! We fight them, we lose our momentum, we lose our momentum, we die! Get to the building!" It was close now, just a hundred yards or so. He was breathing heavily though, the pain was slowing him some and the bullet was moving, he felt where it was and flexed his muscles on the run, moving them in order, working the bullet out, despite the incredible pain of doing so. Finally with a last excruciating movement, he forced the bullet out of his body with a spurt of blood. The bleeding would stop shortly though, his clotting agents working to plug a wound that would have bled most men out in short order. He kept going, fighting off shock, drawing deep breaths, and continueing on his path, there were still a lot of troops between here and the building. He wished he had an endorphine/eppinefrin patch to slap though.

ooc: This is my only day off from my 7-12 shifts for this outage, so I'm gonna go ahead and post ahead again. I also give Abaddon and Azrael the go ahead to power play my character a bit with themselves, if you feel so inclined to interact with me.

IC: Mas did not bother looking up at those surrounding himself. He pushed himself up, ignoring the consistent firepower from the playthings. He also barely dodged a large mechanical foot from stomping on his head. He stood and took a defiant stance before the enemy. <Metal heads huh? Whatever.> Mas looked at his assailants, not bothering to dodge anything hitting him. He cracked his neck from one side to the next, then reached out and did the same with his knuckles using the backside edge of his shields to perform the action.

He inspected his new enemies, swinging out with his whip blade... once. He cut down the soldiers dumb enough to show their faces as he looked unflinching upon the mechanical hosts approaching him. Mas stood his ground and sliced at a hard downward left angle with his left arm as his right retracted its claw. Mas clanged into the solid mech's left side, knocking it sideways more than he did any slicing. <Ooh, same alloy as me? Or are these pathetic blades dull from bone and blast shields?>

Masraik felt a twang, as if something physical had leapt through his essential blood flow system. <Electricity? Maybe. Excitement? I've been excited, that is not it.> He didn't have time to fight off whatever it was, this that felt like a physical emotion. The second mech that had been standing back watching fired off a short ranged missile from one of its many shoulder compartments and connected square in Mas's right ribcage. The blast blew him straight into the same building he had tossed the droid into. The wall easily crumbled away as he was blown straight across the battlefield, punching a bigger hole into the wall, and the wall behind it.

His scales had gathered to take the blast and redistribute it so there was less chance of bones being broken, but the blast had sent his right shield in the complete opposite direction, in a similar fashion, carving through the walls of the opposite building's walls. He tried too stand, and had some difficulty doing so as he pushed the blocks of concrete from off his head. <Something is broken, I do not move correctly. Mend it now!> In his accelerated state, the mending was quick, but it couldn't be done twice. The ribs that had managed to be broken drew themselves out of his vital internal organs and mended enough that they would not wound himself further. His lungs and liver did the same, closing the small puncture's they had received from his bones.

Satisfied he could move enough, he rolled over and lifted himself up. He was hot, on fire. Why was it so warm? He looked down at his right side and saw the missing scales, the kevlar that had melted away in small patches, but continued to melt, and his flesh that also melted. "Thermite incendiary rounds!" Again, Mas was hit with that twang, but this time he recognized it as fear. <I don't fear this! I fear nothing! Begone pest!>

Although an animal, Mas was wise enough to hide himself out of open view before another of these rounds found him. He reached down and ripped off one of his scales around his stomach and quickly used it to carve out any thermite in his flesh that was progressing downward further into his body. The kevlar he quickly scraped off and flung it against the wall. He scrapped what he could off of his armor, reluctantly having to remove two more scales or else it would have just spread further. Mas used his mind to attempt to heal the scalding burns, but it wouldn't work, and he knew it wouldn't. His one weakness, and they had hit him dead center with it.

It was painful, even in his current state. He focused his mind to have the liquid kevlar skin to re-mesh itself over the burned holes. After that, he redistributed what he could of the scales on his left side. There was barely enough to cover it all. It wasn't pretty, but there was only one or two tiny holes left, barely big enough for a knife to slide through. He couldn't afford to take anymore hits from that. <That is not my opponent, let the others handle it.> Others? What others? He was alone in this battle, this was his fight! But there were others...

Masraik rushed up the stairs he had seen, having to run up them sideways to fit through the building. Everything shook and creaked when his feet landed. He made it up about two flights of stairs and came out on what looked like a concrete field, open and expansive, with many vehicles strewn about. <Parking garage. Sniper playground.> There were snipers there, he didn't have to be intelligent to know it. He made a quick sweep of the territory and spotted one rail gun bolted to a wall, and upon further inspection of the area saw no signs of life. <Must have scared him off ha ha.>

Mas made his way to the rail gun as safely as he could, using the vehicles and stone pillars to hide his rush across the open floor. When he reached it, he got what he expected. A nice sharp concussive round to the chest. Luckily, his hand was already on the weapon and he ripped it from the concrete. Twisting hard from the impact, and turning to get back to cover, Mas stomped back to cover. There he bent the stock and barrel of the weapon and tossed it to the side. Looking around, he looked for the best place to leap off the ledge, back towards where he had come, to the buildings he knew didn't house snipers. If he could get back, he could cleave his way inward from the front lines once more.

Masraik's poor attempt to leap through the concrete openings between floors was thwarted by the concrete barrier around the outside of the floors. Smashing through the concrete, and barely able to reach the 2nd floor of the next building over, Masraik noticed the green one and white one chased and nearly surrounded down below.

He allowed himself to miss the ledge he needed to grasp to not fall to the street below. The shear bulk and momentum of the fall crushed the nearest two soldiers, and cratered the asphalt in the alley. He sent one blast towards the remaining soldiers, flinging them into the street beyond, possibly killing one, but mostly to sweep away the trash.

Oblivious to his allies around him, and not caring which way he went, he had taken the green one's kills in return for him stealing his droid. It was even.

“Matt, I'm going to set up here and take out some of the heavy units, if you can make sure its clear up to 4th floor, then come back we'll both move up and clear to 6th .”

He nodded, holding his weapon as he headed to the staircase. Preparing himself for whatever he might encounter, which Kindle already ruled out AI and other unsuals, he proceeded up the stairs. Carefully aiming around the room, this level seemed to be clear also. 'That's odd. Why would 2 snipers be here but nobody else?' He thought as he went up to the 4th floor and it was the same way. 'Something's not right. Ambushes don't consist of 2 snipers...they must've been decoys to make us think this building didn't have many in it while the main force pushed us here.' His mind was racing, trying to figure out what was really happening and what he would do if he were them.

Ignoring what Kindle said, he went up to the 5th floor...again clear. 'Where?' He thought as he quickly ascended to the 6th floor. 'Only the roof's left.' Speaking into the comm "Building's clear all the way up to the 6th. Heading onto roof to make finally verification if it's fully safe for now or not." Leaning against the door frame that held the stairs leading to the roof, he opened it slightly and proceeded up cautiously. Opening the final door onto the roof, and finally getting onto the roof, he glanced around. 'Still nothi...' His thought was cut off by a sniper's shot that glanced his shoulder. Ducking around the side of the door, more unfriendly sounds came from the sides. Mechanical whirring being the most frequently heard. 'Great' He thought as a couple teams of armed men climbed onto the roof with several android companions leading them.

Matthias raised his weapon and opened fire, quickly taking out one of the teams of 5 before the fire from the rest of them forced him back onto the stairs leading into the building. "We got..." He started to speak into the comms but the door he just closed and was walking away from lodged itself into the wall next to him. It was bent almost in half, turning around he saw one of the androids standing there. The other 3 androids walked up behind the apparent leader and they all sprung forward, wanting to fight Matthias. Diving backwards through the door, he shot at them to slow them down...exhausting the clip completely and reloading as he rolled back to his feet.

Matthias could hear the sounds of many more men arriving on the roof and heading towards the door leading down to here. He needed to hold them off until the rest of the team got here to help. "Multiple hostiles on 6th floor, flooding in from rooftop." He managed to spit out into the comm before having to roll to his side to avoid an android fist. Reattaching his weapon to his right thigh, Matthias unsheathed his katana once he stood up. Drawing a throwing knife with his left hand, he held it so the blade was along his forearm.

Another android pounced at him, aiming to punch his head off. Matthias spun using his forearm to slightly redirect the blow away as his knife sliced it's throat. Then he kindly removed his head with his katana. Frontkicking hard, he sent the body back into the door frame, trying to make a blockade of sorts with the bodies of these androids. The second one and third rushed him together. Swinging, kicking and trying to coordinate against him. Matthias was barely avoiding and redirecting most of their attacks, taking glancing blows here and there as the troops started down the stairs. Stabbing the second android in it's right bicep with his katana, he spun closer to it and lodged a knife into his throat and out the back of it's skull. Throwing that android ontop of it's other defeated android to further slow down the troops. Unfortunately for a few of them, they had gotten to the bottom just as Matthias threw the body of the android, and were crushed by it, adding themselves to the little blockade.

The third android flung him down the stairs to the next level down. Rolling as best as he could, he managed to not break anything but it still hurt a bit. "They've taken the 6th floor back, I'm holding on the 5th now." He updated the rest of the team on his status. Redrawing his MP5 as a couple soldiers started to get into sight, Matthias opened up on them. Easily taking out the first few that got there before the android made itself seen again. It manuevered right above Matthias and punched a hole in the ground, landing directly next to him. As soon as he heard the impact, he placed the gun back into place as he sheathed his katana also. Rolling, he avoided the slamming punch of the android but not it's kick as he stood up. Hitting the near wall, he bounced off and sprinted forward. Ducking under it's punch, he bench tackled it directly onto the spot it had landed on.

The two of them crashed through the floor and kept going, gaining speed and crashing through every level. Matthias counted...hoping this would work. Once the android hit the second floor, he jumped off it's chest straight up. Grabbing ahold of the hole it just created in the second floor, jerking himself to a stop. Pulling himself up, he drew his MP5 again and shot the android just to be sure. "They've got the 5th...I'm going to hold them at the 4th now." Leaping back up through the holes to the 4th floor, Matthias positioned himself at the staircase after pushing some of the desks, chairs and anything else useful into the way at the bottom to create a bunker line effect. Crouching behind it, he fired up taking some of the soldiers out and haulting their progress.

Quantas spotted his allies running, and the Metal-heads only a half-dozen paces behind. They were faster than the Metal-heads, but slowed by the swath of enemies. The Metal-heads just followed in their wake. He fired at the current position of his allies, the plasma rounds hitting behind them and stopping a Metal-head in his tracks. One shot pelted him again and made him stumble, still unharmed really. Quantas could see the small red dot where it had hit him though. He jumped from the third floor and landed on a slanted slab of concrete. He slid the distance of about a floor on it and jumped off, somersaulting the last floor's distance and rolled to his feet. Not stopping, he ran in Azreal and Abbaddon's direction.

Two explosions rocked the battlefield, one after another. He heard over the com that it was Kindle and twitched an eyebrow in surprise. These newfangled angels aren't so bad, he thought. They can come in handy after all, heh. There was a field of troops closing in on the few buildings around them, moving past the three archangels that tore through their ranks initially to get the snipers and covers that entered the buildings. It was a seek and destroy and they would overwhelm by attrition. The only way they knew how.

Longview switched to flechette rounds to go through the fleshies and get to his allies. Make a path of death to lead to their salvation. Rounds flew around him as those on the ground saw a new opponent. The inaccuracy and poor training of the corps were stuff of legend. It was like the battles of the old 1800's, except the problem then was technology. The problem now was mindless humanity. Oh there were people every now and then that would have a decent IQ level and ability on the field of battle, but those became the Metal-heads and drivers and mechanics and what not. They went up in the world.

That being thought, Longview wasted no time or rounds on pitiful scummy dross. He allowed one shot each, if it didn't kill, it maimed. Before he knew it, his clip was empty. He could see Azreal not too far ahead, bobbing up and down from time to time. The Astereal of Abbaddon could be seen as well, flailing this way and that way through the sea of her enemies. They were only a few dozen yards away by now. He had no heavy ordinance or explosives to speak of, but it wasn't much of a problem. He ejected the ammo pack of flechette rounds, and switched again to conventional 5.56mm so-called "NATO" rounds. Quantas reached into a cargo pocket for a new pack and slapped it into the weapon before firing into the last group of humans in his friends' way. He could see them fully now, and mostly unharmed. There was a bloody trail on Azreal's side, but it wasn't bad.

A round hit Longview in the gut and he grunted, looking down at it. It wasn't much but it was something. He quickly switched to plasma and fired behind Azreal and Abbaddon at the expectation of the Metal-head behind them. He was there alright, and thrown onto his back from the concussive force of it. The armor would hold, undoubtedly, but from this range would have a few pocks to show for it. "I opened up a clear path for you. Get to safety and assess yourselves. I'll cover you," he suggested before watching Masraik try and fly; unsuccessfully. He chuckled a little, at the humorous sight of it. The Metal-head was getting up, obviously shaken but alright. It's weak spot was behind it, the power-pack on their back. It was armored, but had vents for heat dissipation that were vulnerable. Every Achilles had his tendon.

Kindle heard Matt over the comm, "They've taken the 6th floor back, I'm holding on the 5th now." Her mind raced {I need to clear a path, Matt needs help, focus..focus} She dropped her KE Pipe, grabbed the SJ3 and fired 4 rounds at the enemies between her teammates and the building.

"I'm coming up Matt!" She raced for the door, switching her sight to normal, lest she be caught in a physical attack. Third floor was empty, "How could I have been so stupid, there's never just 'a couple of' snipers..." She found a room in the direction of the retreating angels, {a few more shots to help clear, and up to Matt} Her anger showed on her face as she reached the stairs.

Over the comm she heard Matt's voice again, "They've got the 5th...I'm going to hold them at the 4th now."

"Damn!" then over the comm "Hold on, Matt!". Reaching the top of the stairs Kindle used her energy to focus nanites on her chest. As soon as her body appeared at the top of the stairs she became a target. 2 of the enemies coming down shot at her, bad shots if they were going for a kill, but a good shot considering her right arm was unarmored. The bullet pierced her bicep, causing her to lower her weapon and make her own retaliation shot too low.

Dunking behind the bunker, she focused on stopping the bleeding, but she would need more professional medical attention later. {They are too close for the rifle} She tossed it behind her on the stairs, drawing her blaster while swearing. If her right arm wasn't pulsing, she could fire the blaster in one hand and the pistol in the other.

Hit. Hit. Duck. "Matt, did you see how many of them there were?" {I need a spread gun for these situations, I need to equip with one before the mission}. Hit. Duck. "Live or androids?" Hit. Hit. Duck.

ooc: Alright, brain still fuzzy, gonna still crank one out here we gotta keep moving. I think this has about played out.

Mas... for the sake of story telling, I think it'd be best if you edit the post to leave out the creation of an exit. That way your character has somewhere to develop (ie the gain of control of the berserker state) but isn't starting too early on that path, you're supposed to be a mindless killing machine right now. You aren't entirely... gaining control of that can be part of your char development, but I think what you went ahead and did is just a little too much too soon. If you don't want to do that, its fine, your char can react to us not trusting him with the exit or whatever.

IC:
Azrael pushed through the pain in his side. The system had really come a long way, not too long ago the pain would have been just that, pain, none of the side effects of an injury would obvious. Now he was feeling all the side effects of being wounded. He was starting to run low on ammo. He heard the crackle of voices over his radio, the enemy was in the building working their way down. Must have been an arial insertion. That was strange, there were almost no aircraft in the corponations. Those few there were were so closely gaurded and used so rarely that they might as well not exist.

He was getting fuzzy, wandering down lines of thought that didn't matter, the wound shouldn't be affecting him like this, letting himself get distracted... he felt light headed and dizzy. He'd taken far more serious wounds with far less physical response. He felt several rounds thud against his body armor making him staggering. Even so his sword moved as though it had a life of its own. It was slowing though, moving less unnerringly... what was going on?

Poison... some of the more elite corponation troops always used poisoned bullets, knowing that Archangels usually would survive most normal hits they used bullets impregnated with a harsh neurotoxin. He'd been hit by it before. It wouldn't kill him, his immune system was too strong, but it would slow him, and in a fight like this, that was as good as killing him. A normal man would have been dead almost as soon as the toxin hit is blood. The metal heads were close, too close. A grenade from one of their launchers hit near them. He would go back, kill the metal heads, probably be "killed" in the effort, but the team could keep going.

Then the soldiers in front of them were dropping. Longview had opened a corridor for them, but it wouldn't stay open long. Sheathing his sword he said "Let's go." to Abaddon. He pressed against his side, the burst of pain and adrenaline momentarily clearing his mind. HE took off then running faster that any human could sprint, firing rounds off at the same time. The were nearing the building when a round took him square between the shoulders. Weakened as he was, running at the speed he was running at he couldn't save himself, he tumbled, rolling end over end, the butt of his gun digging into him painfully.

His side exploded in pain. He managed to turn his tumble into a roll and came to his feet. His armor had stopped the bullet, but the tumble had sent him rolling out of the cleared corridor and into a thick patch of enemies. They began immediately to pile on him, jumping onto him, kicking and punching holding him down with the sheer press of bodies. He killed many of them, but as soon he was left only with corpses within his range, but still more piled on. This wasn't a tactic real people would ever use, the computer was improvising... they really had done some work on the sim since the last time he had used it. He was having trouble breathing now. His head ached, his mind fuzzed.

ooc: Alright everyone, if you haven't noticed as we've lasted the difficulty has been getting exponentially harder, things are about to pass the tipping point so feel free to start taking damage, even fatal damage, the sim is just gonna keep going till we're all down anyway, or until I stop it. Either way, feel free to play out the end game.

When you "die" in sim, you freeze up, your "wound punishment" dissappears, and you are sort of encased in a visibly red, unmoving force shield.