Contrary to what all you soldiers may think, this airship is mine
characters: Balthier (archadianpirate) and Crowley (notcrawlykthx)
location: One of the invading airships
time: During the invasion, before the monster onslaught
rating: PG-13 for violence
open/closed: Closed.
summary: Let's nab ourselves an airship!
It was evening now, and already numerous airships had entered the sky over the city and the streets were littered with shards of red crystal that crunched underfoot as Balthier had made his way through the streets, hunting for an opportunity. Now he stood at the side of one street, his eyes fixed on one particular ship. Several already had opened their doors, spewed their soldiers, and closed again; unless those landed, there would be no way to get on board. The one he currently had his eye on, however, was only beginning to let soldiers down the ladder. He ducked into a nearby alleyway as the soldiers dropping from the airship set course down the street he was on, hiding just out of sight behind a nearby crate, and waited for the majority of the troops to pass by. As the flow of soldiers dwindled, Balthier cautiously found his way back to the alleyway entrance and peeked around to see a single soldier lagging behind. Lovely opportunity, that.
Balthier popped back around the corner, pressing his back against the wall. The soldier walked past, but he didn't get very far. Balthier grabbed him from behind and knocked him into the alleyway wall before he had a chance to react. It was lucky move; the soldier's head contacted with the wall, and his face read shock, followed by daze, and then a fluttering of eyelids as he slipped into unconsciousness and slumped down to the ground. Balthier watched for a brief moment to be sure the man wasn't somehow masterfully faking that response, and then began looting the body.
It occurred to him belatedly that the man was something of an odd shape for a soldier, namely taller than Balthier and thin as a rail. Balthier took the man's clothes, anyway, tucking his own into the crate he had earlier used as cover. The fit of the uniform was almost comical--he barely squeezed into the man's shirt and the pants needed to be rolled up so as not to trip him--but it would have to do. If nothing else it would cause less of a fuss at first glance than his normal attire, and the simple layers of armoring on it were probably more effective than his typical decorated cloth. He grabbed the gun the soldier had been carrying as well, deciding that it would likely prove far more useful than the ill-fitting uniform.
Once appropriately costumed, he made his way to the airship, which was still hovering low, the ladders by which the soldiers climbed down not yet retracted. Sparing only a moment to secure the gun at his waist, he grabbed hold of the ladder and climbed up. At the top, he was met with an empty room save for a lone man beginning to fiddle with some kind of control, possibly intending to reel the ladder back in. He was dressed differently from the soldiers, which Balthier took to mean he wasn't one. A mechanic, perhaps. Whoever he was, he startled when he heard the sound of someone clambering back into the cabin, and turned around with jump.
"Who are you?" he demanded immediately, then paused as he recognized the outfit, presumably wondering about the strange fit and the fact that he had never seen this man before in his life.
"Don't you recognize me?" Balthier asked, sounding offended, and took a step closer. The man shook his head and seemed to shrink back away from him just slightly.
"No," the man replied, and when he spoke again his voice gained a layer of conviction. "I've never seen you before. I don't know who you are, but leave now or I'll call the guards."
"Mm, how astute, and how unfortunate." He whipped out the soldier's gun and pointed it toward the mechanic. "I can't do that." The other man's eyes went wide.
"He-mmmph!" The man attempted to call out, but Balthier clamped a hand over his mouth, bringing the gun to rest against the other man's head.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The man's eyes grew wider, but he made no further sound or any attempt to escape.
"Better. Now, I'm going to offer you a deal. I'll let go of your mouth in a moment, and then you have a choice. You can be quiet and answer my questions and remain unharmed, or you can try to scream for help again and be dead. Do you understand?" A nod. "Good. Now are you going to be a good boy and answer questions?" Another nod. "You've promised, now" he reminded as he slowly pulled back his hand.
"HELP!" There was a thud as the butt of the gun contacted with the mechanic's head and he fell unconscious. Balthier frowned down at him.
"Idiot," he muttered, wondering briefly if the man somehow knew Balthier hadn't really been planning on killing him (after all, a mechanic might be able to help him figure out how to fly this thing later) or whether he was suicidal. Either way, now he was unconscious, and someone on the other side of the door was almost surely aware of an intruder being present. "Wonderful." Well, so much for subtlety. Nothing to do but just charge in and hope the ship didn't remain terribly well defended despite most of its soldiers being on the ground. He opened the door, gun ready, and was met with a handful of soldiers who immediately turned their weapons on him. Only one had a gun, and Balthier did not hesitate to shoot that one in the head. He spared the others bullets for now, having only a limited supply and not knowing what else he might face after this. Melee weapons were far easier to avoid than bullets.
Unfortunately for him, it wasn't long before backup arrived, and swarms of other soldiers poured into the room. And so much for the ship not being well-defended, he thought, today must not be my lucky day. He skittered through the room, narrowly avoiding blows, and firing shots when he was able to line them up. The few bodies that cluttered the floor unfortunately seemed to do little to hinder those remaining. It was beginning to look hopeless; there was no way his supply of bullets was going to hold out long enough to...
Click.
Oh good. He was outnumbered and now he was out of ammo. He glanced back toward his way back out only to find that an ample supply of armed and armored soldiers had put themselves between himself and that door, and the rest were equally well situated to stop him from getting there as there were to stop him from going further. He was trapped, and very briefly his thoughts turned to ones of despair. There was no way to win.
I should have planned this better... brought someone with me...
I have no friends here.
The acknowledgement that he was truly on his own only solidified his conviction--he had got himself into this mess, he still wanted his airship, and he would certainly not be going down without a fight--though even so, he could not help but think that actually taking down this entire crowd would require some sort of a miracle. But the time for him to die was not yet. He dodged a heavy blow from a mace and managed to grab an unused dagger from his assailant's belt. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it would help keep him alive.
For a little longer, at least.
[ooc: Sorry for the delay, Crowley-mun. Have a nice long intro post.]
location: One of the invading airships
time: During the invasion, before the monster onslaught
rating: PG-13 for violence
open/closed: Closed.
summary: Let's nab ourselves an airship!
It was evening now, and already numerous airships had entered the sky over the city and the streets were littered with shards of red crystal that crunched underfoot as Balthier had made his way through the streets, hunting for an opportunity. Now he stood at the side of one street, his eyes fixed on one particular ship. Several already had opened their doors, spewed their soldiers, and closed again; unless those landed, there would be no way to get on board. The one he currently had his eye on, however, was only beginning to let soldiers down the ladder. He ducked into a nearby alleyway as the soldiers dropping from the airship set course down the street he was on, hiding just out of sight behind a nearby crate, and waited for the majority of the troops to pass by. As the flow of soldiers dwindled, Balthier cautiously found his way back to the alleyway entrance and peeked around to see a single soldier lagging behind. Lovely opportunity, that.
Balthier popped back around the corner, pressing his back against the wall. The soldier walked past, but he didn't get very far. Balthier grabbed him from behind and knocked him into the alleyway wall before he had a chance to react. It was lucky move; the soldier's head contacted with the wall, and his face read shock, followed by daze, and then a fluttering of eyelids as he slipped into unconsciousness and slumped down to the ground. Balthier watched for a brief moment to be sure the man wasn't somehow masterfully faking that response, and then began looting the body.
It occurred to him belatedly that the man was something of an odd shape for a soldier, namely taller than Balthier and thin as a rail. Balthier took the man's clothes, anyway, tucking his own into the crate he had earlier used as cover. The fit of the uniform was almost comical--he barely squeezed into the man's shirt and the pants needed to be rolled up so as not to trip him--but it would have to do. If nothing else it would cause less of a fuss at first glance than his normal attire, and the simple layers of armoring on it were probably more effective than his typical decorated cloth. He grabbed the gun the soldier had been carrying as well, deciding that it would likely prove far more useful than the ill-fitting uniform.
Once appropriately costumed, he made his way to the airship, which was still hovering low, the ladders by which the soldiers climbed down not yet retracted. Sparing only a moment to secure the gun at his waist, he grabbed hold of the ladder and climbed up. At the top, he was met with an empty room save for a lone man beginning to fiddle with some kind of control, possibly intending to reel the ladder back in. He was dressed differently from the soldiers, which Balthier took to mean he wasn't one. A mechanic, perhaps. Whoever he was, he startled when he heard the sound of someone clambering back into the cabin, and turned around with jump.
"Who are you?" he demanded immediately, then paused as he recognized the outfit, presumably wondering about the strange fit and the fact that he had never seen this man before in his life.
"Don't you recognize me?" Balthier asked, sounding offended, and took a step closer. The man shook his head and seemed to shrink back away from him just slightly.
"No," the man replied, and when he spoke again his voice gained a layer of conviction. "I've never seen you before. I don't know who you are, but leave now or I'll call the guards."
"Mm, how astute, and how unfortunate." He whipped out the soldier's gun and pointed it toward the mechanic. "I can't do that." The other man's eyes went wide.
"He-mmmph!" The man attempted to call out, but Balthier clamped a hand over his mouth, bringing the gun to rest against the other man's head.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The man's eyes grew wider, but he made no further sound or any attempt to escape.
"Better. Now, I'm going to offer you a deal. I'll let go of your mouth in a moment, and then you have a choice. You can be quiet and answer my questions and remain unharmed, or you can try to scream for help again and be dead. Do you understand?" A nod. "Good. Now are you going to be a good boy and answer questions?" Another nod. "You've promised, now" he reminded as he slowly pulled back his hand.
"HELP!" There was a thud as the butt of the gun contacted with the mechanic's head and he fell unconscious. Balthier frowned down at him.
"Idiot," he muttered, wondering briefly if the man somehow knew Balthier hadn't really been planning on killing him (after all, a mechanic might be able to help him figure out how to fly this thing later) or whether he was suicidal. Either way, now he was unconscious, and someone on the other side of the door was almost surely aware of an intruder being present. "Wonderful." Well, so much for subtlety. Nothing to do but just charge in and hope the ship didn't remain terribly well defended despite most of its soldiers being on the ground. He opened the door, gun ready, and was met with a handful of soldiers who immediately turned their weapons on him. Only one had a gun, and Balthier did not hesitate to shoot that one in the head. He spared the others bullets for now, having only a limited supply and not knowing what else he might face after this. Melee weapons were far easier to avoid than bullets.
Unfortunately for him, it wasn't long before backup arrived, and swarms of other soldiers poured into the room. And so much for the ship not being well-defended, he thought, today must not be my lucky day. He skittered through the room, narrowly avoiding blows, and firing shots when he was able to line them up. The few bodies that cluttered the floor unfortunately seemed to do little to hinder those remaining. It was beginning to look hopeless; there was no way his supply of bullets was going to hold out long enough to...
Click.
Oh good. He was outnumbered and now he was out of ammo. He glanced back toward his way back out only to find that an ample supply of armed and armored soldiers had put themselves between himself and that door, and the rest were equally well situated to stop him from getting there as there were to stop him from going further. He was trapped, and very briefly his thoughts turned to ones of despair. There was no way to win.
I should have planned this better... brought someone with me...
I have no friends here.
The acknowledgement that he was truly on his own only solidified his conviction--he had got himself into this mess, he still wanted his airship, and he would certainly not be going down without a fight--though even so, he could not help but think that actually taking down this entire crowd would require some sort of a miracle. But the time for him to die was not yet. He dodged a heavy blow from a mace and managed to grab an unused dagger from his assailant's belt. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it would help keep him alive.
For a little longer, at least.
[ooc: Sorry for the delay, Crowley-mun. Have a nice long intro post.]