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@@genessee,@@Hazard Time,  

 

Released from the sudden grasp of the magic he drops and lands perfectly onto his boots grabbing his baton and Phobia, slapping in his power cell. Equipping his Vladof assault rifle he gets into an agressive stance his weapon aimed directly at the zombpony as he the situation turned back into their favor.

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Do stick around Darling, I could use the company~

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@@genessee,@,@@Hazard Time,

 

 

Blood smirked at them all. "Lance, put that thing down before you harm yourself" she growled at him. After all it was a raiders shotgun, without any ammo in, just a blank. Which would probably explode after a single use.

 

Blood looked at the canine "Your talented I'll give you that" she grumbled. She smirked at them. "Go on then, Kill me. Though whats gonna stop the zombie herd out here from comming in here and taking a good chunck out of you? I'm doubtful you got enough ammo for a horde of zombies. 

 

"So we gonna have a stalemate now?" she asked.

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IT DOESN'T MATTER IF YOU'RE ALIVE OR DEAD

 

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YOUR MAREFRIEND IS ALWAYS RIGHT

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@@BloodDrops @ @@Hazard Time

 

"Zombie horde? What zo- oh." Lance peeked from his laying position to see a group of 5 or 6 undead thugs waiting outside the door. It wasn't a lot, but still enough to cause harm to the group, and Lance figured he would get infected or killed if they came in. "Well, at least.. wait, you said this shotgun only has a blank?" Lance checked the shotgun's ammunition, and sure enough, it only had a blank, no real bullets. Lance removed the blank and flipped the gun around to make it resemble more of a club. "Uh." He looked around at his teammates. "Any ideas?" Lance asked.


You have laid your eyes upon my post. Be afraid. Please. With a cherry on top? I'm dying here...

 

Oh and here's my OC, I guess: Lance

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@@genessee,

 

Blood levitated the shotgun out of his hoof and started to itch her back with it. She waited for them to come up with a bright idea. She finished scratching and passed the shotgun back over to him, minus a few of her hairs from her back. She smirked "Bad hair day" she remarked.

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IT DOESN'T MATTER IF YOU'RE ALIVE OR DEAD

 

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YOUR MAREFRIEND IS ALWAYS RIGHT

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@@BloodDrops

 

Lance looked at the hairy shotgun, brushed it off, and resumed his position. He waited for his teammates input. But Lance was NOT ready for a stalemate after all the pain Blood had put Lance's teammates through. It's either you or me. Chances are, it'll be me. But...

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You have laid your eyes upon my post. Be afraid. Please. With a cherry on top? I'm dying here...

 

Oh and here's my OC, I guess: Lance

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@@BloodDrops @@genessee @

 

Bronze slowly stood up on her hooves, her knees wobbling until she stumbled back against the wall.  Screw it, she wasn't walking for a while.

 

"Oi," she mumbled out, waving her hoof over at the intelligent zombie.  "Look, Blood whatever-your-name-is.  You wanna 'ear somefing funny?  I'm about to admit that I screwed up 'ere.  Ye, I should've stopped and saved ye from those bastards railin' on ya, and maybe a part of me agrees that I deserve this.  Maybe if I'da 'elped you, I would've eventually go'en what I wanted and you'd've gone your own way.  

 

"Sti'w, seein' as you're just as screwed as we are, 'ow about we call a truce, ey?  We put the guns down, walk away, and never speak again.  'ow does that sound?  You made your point, but nopony else 'as to die today."

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Roleplaying for Eight Years and Counting!

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List of All My Active OCs

 

 

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@BloodDrops @genessee @IllusivePony

 

Blood blinked at her, true a truce would solve this problem. However she was also hungry. Her belly rumbled and she snorted. "Well, Only a truce if you give me something to eat" she grumbled at the mare. She stamped one of her hooves and waited for her to get her something tasty to eat.

 

"Two things to eat" she growled 


IT DOESN'T MATTER IF YOU'RE ALIVE OR DEAD

 

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YOUR MAREFRIEND IS ALWAYS RIGHT

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@@Hazard Time @ @@BloodDrops

 

Lance stared at Bronze, puzzled. He was completely at a blank. But it was my fault. It was pretty obvious, right? Right? I mean, I haven't really DONE anything. I've gotten drunk, gotten my things stolen, said stuff, and nothing else. So how could Bronze think SHE'D screwed up? If I had been sober when Blood came back, I could've at least tried to fend her off. Actually, I would've gotten to Blood and rescued her before she went all crazy. Lance didn't realise he had lowered his makeshift club-gun, deep in thought.  Then he realised Blood had declined the truce offering, and Lance quickly snapped back into a fighting stance. Well, more of a semi-threatening laying pose.  


You have laid your eyes upon my post. Be afraid. Please. With a cherry on top? I'm dying here...

 

Oh and here's my OC, I guess: Lance

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Things have grinded to a halt suddenly. And this things wasn't letting up. Whatever this freak had in plot it wasn't in good intention. Nasty cannibal filth. His finger was on the trigger and ready for any sudden attack.

 

These other two seem to know it.

 

Better do something before more marauders show up.

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Do stick around Darling, I could use the company~

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@@Hazard Time @ @@BloodDrops

 

Well. It seems we're in a stalemate, I guess. Lance didn't dare swing his club, and he assumed that his teammates weren't planning on attacking until Blood struck first, which didn't look like that was happening anytime soon. Lance eyed the undead thugs behind Blood. Well, assuming that we win, what are we going to do about them? I'm not going to be much help, as usual, and I doubt Bronze could do much. The only way to keep those zombies away is a truce. Which isn't happening, so I guess we're hoping to get lucky? Usually I wouldn't find that very comforting, but I've been so lucky today that I think we might have a chance. 


You have laid your eyes upon my post. Be afraid. Please. With a cherry on top? I'm dying here...

 

Oh and here's my OC, I guess: Lance

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@Ranger22 - @Light of Night

 

 

The things in front of us seemed to take no notice of our following them - in fact, they seemed oblivious to their entire surroundings, focused like horrible lemmings, headed to some unknown cliff to leap to their doom, whatever it may be.  These things were NASTY-looking; some of 'em were still bleeding, for Luna's sake.

 

At any rate, they made their way through different hallways and doors; I did my best to keep up, stay quiet and mind my surroundings.  The other two seemed to be handling things well enough; it kinda surprised me that they did exactly what I asked.  Hadn't had teamwork like that in a long time...

 

HOW long, though?

 

As I questioned that once again, the spider-things came to a hatch that they seemed to gather around and fiddle with.  According to what I remember, that would've led to Lab 42 - the place where I was initially introduced to my deep, dark friend.  Funny... I don't recall a hatch there - it WAS a door.  I think.

 

What in Tartarus was WRONG with me?

 

It was about that time that the hatchway opened, and out came six guard-ponies... but they were just as twisted as the rest of the staff here.  Two had what looked to be sharp iron teeth and steel-cable whips for tails, while two more had monstrous harnesses RIVETED to their flesh, containing a number of firearms and sensor arrays.  The last two had weapon heads, though these looked like mere shotguns instead of RPGs.

 

Still, not exactly the most comforting sight, to be sure.

 

Worse yet?  One of the harness pones turned and looked RIGHT at the blackness I was generating.  Looked right as US.

 

It made a sound that was something between a yawn, a screech and a roar - it was unearthly, and it chilled me to the very bone.  I'd hear that sound for the rest of my life, I was sure of it... or at least the next time I managed to sleep.  Ah, nothing like looking forward to a decent rest, right?

 

The guard ponies turned to face us, and the spider-things turned and glared in our direction, too.  As one, little cannons popped out of their eyes, trained in our direction.  Somehow, their zombie-faces flexed into angry expressions.

 

Great - the cat's out of the bag now.  Eight spiders and six... uhm, other things.

 

I concentrated harder, and the blackness around us thickened.  But that was just making sure the other two were covered; I still wasn't about to be the first to fire.  But if there was anything left after my travelling companions did their thing, then I'd be happy to handle it.

 

IF they were as good as they claimed, anyway.

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Fnord.

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@@BloodDrops @@genessee @

 

Bronze was at a lost for words.  Something to eat?  She had nothing on her!  Was she supposed to?  Maybe if she could convince Blood to give her back her echo device, she might transfer enough credits to buy a decent meal.

 

Still, what was a dire situation was only getting worse.  The pit in her stomach only deepened, and for a mare who was already nauseated, that was the last straw, and for the second time that day, she emptied her stomach onto the ground.  On one hoof, it was good for her figure, but a mare's gotta eat, too.

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Roleplaying for Eight Years and Counting!

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List of All My Active OCs

 

 

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The freaky pony-headed spider droids hadn't noticed Whitetip and his other two companions. Moving forward as if the three were not beings that existed in the same universe as they did. Whitetip kept his guard up as the team followed the eight monstrosities moving ahead of them, the mercenary didn't know what else to expect and wanted to react accordingly. Whitetip would have been lying if he hadn't admitted the current atmosphere was unnerving, ignoring the cyborgs, the lack of knowledge about the facility proved to be the main contributing factor to Whitetip's degrading comfort. The hallway seemed to drone on, the spider's still ignoring the presence of the entourage following closely behind. After an undocumented amount of time the spider's had finally come to a halt, all of them gathering around an access point of sorts, each spider tip tapping away in an efficient manner. Whitetip had raised his rifle, switching off the safety and moving his talon near the trigger. Taking a quick glance at the stallion Whitetip kept his weapon raised at the spiders, and prepared to open fire at the stallion's recommendation.

 

Much to Whitetip's annoyance a faint hissing sound rang out, followed by the hatch opening, revealing six ponies who were each heavily modified with an arsenal of cybernetics and added weaponry. Each was an insult to nature and an abomination that had to be put down, for mercy's sake if not for any other reason presented. Whitetip was about to ask for the team's input, however he was cut off by the glares of the cyborgs in question, each with the intent to kill. Whitetip muttered a curse underneath his breath and readied himself for combat, approval didn't matter anymore and the stallion seemed to have understood that as well, enshrouding the team with his darkness. Six cyborgs and eight spider droids, all fortunately grouped up together. Each had weaponry that could tear apart just about anything with concentrated fire, not that Whitetip had any intention of letting that happen. With swift efficiency, Whitetip summoned his Tediore drone in front of the party. With a quick command the drone had boosted the shields of each of Whietip's party and began unleashing a storm of bullets upon the cyborgs, each round coated in slag. 

 

With his drone suppressing the enemy Whitetip reached for his belt, retrieving a grenade with a singularity effect. Singularity had always been Whitetip's choice of grenade, barring the standard fragmentation grenade of course. The singularity effect of pulling in enemies with powerful gravitational force then exploding had proved quite devastating, even more so with the newer slag weaponry available on the market. Pulling the pin, Whitetip lobbed the grenade behind the cyborgs after cooking it for about two seconds. With his drone still firing its guns Whitetip had lined up his rifle and began firing on the now purple cyborgs with three round burst from his Dahl rifle. Whitetip had chosen to target the better armed cyborgs instead of the spiders, if his grenade and drone wasn't enough, his other teammates would have to do some cleanup.

Edited by Ranger22
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@@Hazard Time @ @@BloodDrops

 

Oh sh- Before Lance could finish his thought, a wave of warm, gooey vomit splattered onto him. Lance dropped his club and desperately tried to wipe the puke off of him, only to get his hooves covered in it. "This..." Lance was trying not to throw up the last of his cheese fries. "This has to be the grossest thing ever to happen to me." Without a second thought, Lance forced himself up into a standing position and slumped onto a nearby wall, so if Bronze decided to vomit again he wouldn't be in the line of fire. Lance saw his club in the pool of vomit, and couldn't bring himself to grab it out of it. Lance shuddered, looked over towards Bronze, and smiled weakly before going back to convincing himself that this wasn't disgusting. It wasn't working.

Edited by genessee
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You have laid your eyes upon my post. Be afraid. Please. With a cherry on top? I'm dying here...

 

Oh and here's my OC, I guess: Lance

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@@Ranger22,@@Randimaxis,

 

As she followed, Dusk Rose cursed in her head for using her spell too early.  The past few weeks had given her time to improve the spell's duration, but a timer was already ticking down.  

 

But more important than that, she had a bad feeling about the spider things' movements.  Wherever they were going, they were likely called to it, like they're being given telepathic commands.  At least, that's what she initially thought.  She watched them do a weird sequence of taps and when they finished, it was at that point that she decided to levitate out the corrosive pistol, bringing it to her front and the machine pistol more to the side.  Them being in a hallway, it was very easy for them to turn around see that black mist.  Not only that, somepony or something (or a combo of the two) could come up behind them.  As long as the spell was up, she knew she was mostly safe, but she wasn't keen on losing her help either.

 

Then out came more abominations.  She examined the newcomers intently, trying to pinpoint parts of them to best target if things took a turn for the violent.  As she did so, she slowly backed away, hoping the group could get away in time.

 

That hope then shriveled up and died as she felt herself caught by their glare.  Fourteen glares, to be exact, follow by a sound that was surely going to inspire some... interesting art later.

 

Tense and tight, the sounds of explosions and gunfire filled her ears.  Alongside all of the fear and the composure that formed a restraining bolt, she was slightly amazed.  Whitetip really wasn't showing off, carrying all those guns when they first met.  Then again, was there ever any doubt, given the planet they're on?  Then again, didn't one drunk mare show off to her one evening and then shoot her own hoof off?

 

Regaining some calm from the darkly hilarious memory, she turned her attention to the spiders.  She wondered for a second why their guide wasn't doing anything, but she quickly figured that it was because he wasn't much of a multi-tasker.  So, she turned the machine pistol on the spiders and fired at their heads.  They provided bigger targets and if they're anything like living beings, headshots would slow them significantly, she thought.  Then, looking to conserve her corrosive ammo, she aimed the corrosive pistol at the upper parts of the legs on the closest ones and fired a few shots, hoping it would cripple them and make it harder for the others to get closer.  Taking a few steps back, she focused intently on the enemies in front of them, feeling her heart race.

 

She had to admit, this felt rather exciting.  A dangerous feeling.

Edited by Light of Night
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@Ranger22 - @Light of Night

 

 

I'll be dipped in manure and hung out to dry to a hardened crapsicle - the drone from earlier belonged to that Whitetip griffon!  

 

I gave it a steady stare before the synapses started clicking into place in my own mind... mercenary.  Heavily armed.  Just HAPPENED to find an interest in my story.  Volunteered out of nowhere.  Happened to have help at hoof... er, claw.  

 

Corporate would be my guess, and the drone going a long way to verify it.  Were these two sent here to coerce or connive me into coming back here in the first place?  Was this all a trap?  Was I protecting the very bounty hunters who were going to receive their reward when we made it to Doc's office?  Did they already know that I didn't know how long I'd-...

 

...

 

... no.

 

No, I can't do this.  Not now.

 

I refuse to allow all that crappy brainwashing the Doc put me through to force my hoof in ANY direction; I was gonna stay neutral until I saw the truth of what they REALLY were... and I'd decide what to do from there.  If they weren't hired on to corral me here, then I wouldn't want to put 'em at risk because I felt 'iffy'... but if they ARE hired hooves, well...

 

My silent partner quietly assured me it wouldn't be any problem to take care of them by itself.  Sometimes, I wondered exactly how much brass that thing had; I knew I was only mortal, but the damn thing seemed to think and act as though it considered itself invincible.  I just hope it remembered that I was NOT.

 

Watching the threats react to these two professionals was a lesson in two parts - how good they were as companions... or how tough they'd be as enemies.

 

The spiders were apparently not expecting such quick retaliation, because the mare (was it 'Dusty Rose'?) managed to take out three of 'em before they had the sense to scatter and make themselves harder to hit.  The downed monstrosities let out a whimper or two as the acid ate through their circuits and... meatier bits... before they simply ceased functioning.  The rest began hiding behind whatever cover they could find, taking pot-shots at the three of us.

 

The cyborgs, however, were only taken a little by surprise.  Both of the ones with the sensor/gun harnesses got out of the way quickly, as did one of the gunheads and one of the whipteeth... however, the other whiptooth got filled with little slag-coated forget-me-nots from the griffon, falling to the floor as dead as disco.

 

The second gunhead would've returned fire... but he(?) got stuck in the impressive gravitational pull of what was apparently a Singularity Grenade - and pulled one of the harness ponies along with him, grabbing at the sensor array as he tried to pull himself free.  When it finally exploded, there were two less combatants on the field.

 

I'd thought that Whitetip and Rose (maybe it was 'Dusky'?) might be able to handle themselves in a firefight - and from the looks of it, I was right.  Good to know - for a number of reasons.

 

Okay, we're down to THREE guards, and FIVE spider-things.  Not bad, and a good use of time and targeting... if these two really WERE on my side, I was starting to think they might actually get away from here alive.  Not that I was making plans to join them, mind you; I was fairly certain that my fate ended within the confines of these rusty walls.

 

Besides, I was pretty sure nobody wanted a freak like me hanging around for long; nopony ever did.

 

Anyway, the return fire was messy - as in BAD NEWS messy.  Electric and Fire elemental bullets started flying, and the remaining gunhead happened to have one of those nifty ATLUS shotguns that fired rockets instead of shells.  The barrage came in fast, but I'd been ready already.

 

It was weird; I could feel each round the darkness soaked up - it was like catching thrown marbles, but in my head.  Not all the shots got deflected elsewhere, but enough did to where I was fairly certain that our collective shields (which had jumped up a notch already, for some reason) would be able to take the brunt of the damage.

 

I, on the other hoof, had an idea for how to deal with some of our issue; I decided that it was time to show my erstwhile companions why the psychos on Pandora sometimes referred to me as the Harbinger...

 

I tossed the grenade into the air directly in front of us, and my silent partner engulfed it.  There was a moment when the ball of shadow just sat there, then it suddenly shot out and landed amongst the remaining obstacles.  The whiptooth remaining sent it's nasty tail lashing at it, trying to bat it back at us.

 

That was a mistake.

 

The sphere burst like a spore pod, and little darts of blackness, like shadowy hornets, zipped out and started slamming into ALL the remaining targets.  The trick was pretty effective... as long as I had grenades to spare, that was.  Two left.

 

As soon as each dart found its' mark, they connected and began rapid-rotting anything made of organic material - like skin and bone.  The spider-things literally lost their heads, which included their guns, so now they were more or less useless.  Deprived of weapons, the remaining five scattered into the walls and ceilings; they wanted no further part of this fight.

 

The gunhead barked off a few more shots at us, then began flailing like mad as the shadow substance ate him alive.  The whiptail got so desperate that it began lashing at itself, trying to harm what was harming him... until he simply fell over dead.  The harness pony, however, was apparently made of sterner stuff; all she did was flex, and a blue field of energy appeared around her - which seemed to stop my hungry friend cold.

 

THAT was a first.

 

The mare then turned to face all of us, and several guns clicked into position - all pointed our way.  The monstrosity opened her mouth, half of it being plate steel, and said three words distinctly.

 

"Please... kill me..."

 

That's when the guns opened fire, pouring a salvo of elemental ammo at us like a badass hydrant with its' cap knocked off.  The darkness would soak up some of it - more for me than them, unfortunately - but I hoped it would be enough to keep them standing and alive.

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Fnord.

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@@genessee,@,

 

Blood snorted and flicked her tail irritably. She was indeed the mother of all Zombies, and took care of her herd, however far they had strayed. She was needed elsewhere for now, besides they were going in circles here. She didn't want to flip out and slaughter these foals after all. So she decided a tactical retreat was best.

 

Blood backed away, not because she was afraid of the ponies in-front of her, or because Bronze couldn't hold her drink. It was because she was needed elsewhere. She let out a growl at them all, "Next time, you ponies better behave proper. You better not abandon you're next patron otherwise you might find yourself in a very sticky situation" she hissed.

 

"Also don't hurt any zombies" she added, her horn glowed and she disappeared in a thick green haze.

Edited by BloodDrops
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IT DOESN'T MATTER IF YOU'RE ALIVE OR DEAD

 

img-40012-1-img-40012-1-img-40012-1-img-

 

YOUR MAREFRIEND IS ALWAYS RIGHT

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@@Hazard Time @

 

"Well, that sums up that." Lance felt relieved for a moment. Then he noticed the undead thugs that had been waiting for Blood to finish them off, and they snapped their jaws angrily. Oh, riiight... Lance knew his allies were no match for six zombies. So instead, he tried distracting the zombies. He forced his leg to grab the vomit-smothered shotgun, and threw it past the small horde. Unfortunately, in Lance's current state, this was not very far. But the zombies sniffed regurgitated cheese fries, and went for the bait. They fought over it, and it kept them occupied. Okay, they should be messing with that for a while. Now I need to figure out how to walk... Lance tried to take a step forward, but instead his leg gave in and he collapsed back to the floor. 

Edited by genessee
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You have laid your eyes upon my post. Be afraid. Please. With a cherry on top? I'm dying here...

 

Oh and here's my OC, I guess: Lance

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When their troubles were thought to be done- "Hey! There's the fuckers!" A loud voice was heard just up the hill near Haven.

With a racing roar a rigged rider (alteration haha) speeds its way toward the gaggle of merchs- only to sufficiently snag onto loose bits of metal and veering into a junk pile catapulting its gunner off.

 

"Well that happened." Fallskir commented

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Do stick around Darling, I could use the company~

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@ @@Hazard Time

 

Lance chuckled at wreckage from the floor. "That was sad. Do you think he's still a threat?" To answer Lance's question, the zombified thugs became interested in the wreckage and trotted over. Lance didn't see where the gunner had went, but the zombies did. They moved out of Lance's line of sight, and Lance held in the remains of his meal when he heard the sound of eating. "Welp, He's dead. Say, I never got your name." Lance told the stranger. 

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You have laid your eyes upon my post. Be afraid. Please. With a cherry on top? I'm dying here...

 

Oh and here's my OC, I guess: Lance

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@@genessee @@Hazard Time

 

Before he could answer another approaching rumble was heard. Halting to a slide at the top of the hill halts a large menacing Bandit Slavage truck adorned in heavy scrap armor and decored with various bits of bone, limbs and other menacing appearal. Standing attop his hood a biwildering stallion fires a burst of flames from his horn.

 

The stallion letting out a screech of terror- though not phasing the desert dog at all. His shining yellow jumpsuit with patches of scarp and metal lining about it.

 

MAD MEL! ... (what he's back?)

 

"You litttle sumbitches be ruining my shithole in Tetanus! You woke the wrong dog!" He says standing upright and pelvic thrusting.

 

"He means... horse I guess?" Fallskir muttered.

 

Now noted by the rest of the crew his henchmen surround about him armed with their various weapons and gadgets. Oh boy.

 

"Stop standing around dip shits! Get their heads!" He hollers pointing his hoof. Fallskir immedietly pulling to the left covering up as the horde of bandits yell and holler making their way down the hill.

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Do stick around Darling, I could use the company~

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@ @@Hazard Time

 

"Who the hell is he?!" Lance shouted at the stranger. Lance had no idea who this thug was, and assumed the new ally had to do with him. Lance's entire body still hurt, and to be honest, all Lance wanted to do was lie down and rest for the remainder of the day. However, this did not look like it was happening. So he moved behind the wall opposite to his new ally, looked over at Bronze, hesitated, and then forced himself to move over, grab her leg, and pulled her out of the line of fire over to his side of the room. "Hi." Lance shot a quick, halfhearted smile as he leaned heavily on the wall behind him. Lance prepared for the worst. 

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You have laid your eyes upon my post. Be afraid. Please. With a cherry on top? I'm dying here...

 

Oh and here's my OC, I guess: Lance

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Whitetip's Tediore drone had done its job, its bullets peppering enough opponents to make the opposite end of the room glow a faint purple. Too Whitetip's benefit it allowed one cyborg to go down with one three round burst from the Dahl rifle. Before any of the other cyborgs could return the favor the singularity grenade exploded, creating a power gravitational field that sucked in not just one but two of the cyborgs. With the two held in place, the following explosion released a wave of kinetic energy and heated shrapnel into their cybernetic bodies, turning the two into a charred mess of torn up flesh. Unfortunately, the two bodies absorbed the grenade leaving the rest relatively shrapnel and burn free, not that Whitetip wanted them to stay that way for long. As Whitetip took down three targets Rose had took it upon herself to participate, using her pistol she fired corrosive rounds at the spider droids, taking out three of them in a short order. Whitetip would have complimented the mare if it wasn't for the return fire from the cyborgs drowning out the noise in the hallway. Luckily for the team the stallion's abilities had warded off the brunt of the bullets, with the remaining few being stopped by the teams boosted shields. Though Whitetip's shields held up quite fairly, he muttered a curse regardless just for being hit in the first place.

 

Wanting to end the encounter quickly Whitetip digitized his rifle and brought out his rocket launcher, one of the Torgue variety with three rockets per reload. The stallion however took initiative and lobbed an explosive of his own, one covered in the darkness. One of the cyborgs had tried to deflect the grenade, bad choice seeing what resulted. The dark grenade had unleashed a wave of barbs that just about hit every single opponent in front of the team. Not soon after the fleshy parts of the cyborgs began decomposing rapidly, melting off as if an acid had sneaked its way inside. It made Whitetip comfortable knowing he wore armor over all of his body. Much to Whitetip's surprise one cyborg was still standing, its shields blocking the barbs. It faced the team, muttering a request for a merciful death before preparing to unleash its firepower. 

 

Whitetip's instincts told him that whatever weapons it had was more powerful than the rest, considering the power of the others it was a worrying thought. Not wanting to take any chances Whitetip quickly bolted in front of Rose and signaled his drone to bolster their shields once more, which unluckily for Whitetip didn't occur before the hail storm of elemental rounds drowned out the hallway. The bullets shredded away Whitetips already weakened shields, his armor being left to ward off the remaining bullets. Multiple rounds impacted and shattered against Whitetip's Dahl armor, each round slowly tearing away his armor's plates. Clenching his beak Whitetip hyperventilated in an effort to ignore the painful impacts of the cyborgs bullets. Wanting to return the favor Whitetip signaled his drone, quickly responding the drone had focused fire on the lone cyborg, its slag rounds painting it purple. Raising his rocket launcher, the mercenary fired off three rockets in quick succession at the slagged cyborg after moving himself to the side, keeping the mare away from the end of his rocket launcher.

  • Brohoof 1
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@ @@genessee

 

The pegasus was in no state for anything more.  Today had just been one cock-up after another, and she was on the verge of keeling over and calling it quits on life.  A part of her wished that Blood hadn't backed down and had just ended her.  At least her hangover would have gone away.

 

Instead, she was once more taking cover against another gang of bandits out to kill her and everypony she cared about.  Well...okay, she didn't really care about Lance or this new dog that had joined her, but it was nice to have somepony sober watching her back and keeping her from getting eaten alive by a bunch of cannibals.

 

In the mean time, with her stomach clear, Bronze could only put her hooves to her ears and hope that the imminent gunshots wouldn't figuratively tear her skull asunder.  It was the literal alternative that she was secretly praying for.

  • Brohoof 2

Roleplaying for Eight Years and Counting!

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List of All My Active OCs

 

 

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@@Hazard Time @

 

Lance waited for his imminent doom. He was sure that, even though his new ally seemed to be a great fighter, he couldn't take on the amount of enemies that Lance could hear charging the groups position. Lance turned his head and was about to ask Bronze if she thought they'd make it out of this alive, when he saw she looked... off. She looks kinda depressed. So instead, Lance asked as quietly as he could and still be audible (Which was difficult to be considered 'quiet' over the sound of gunfire) "Hey, you alright? You look sad." Uh, duh. Hello, Captain Obvious? Yeah, maybe you could say something more helpful. "Uh.." Lance was suddenly at a loss for words. He simply could not think of anything to say other than 'Uh..' Wow. You really are an idiot.

  • Brohoof 1

You have laid your eyes upon my post. Be afraid. Please. With a cherry on top? I'm dying here...

 

Oh and here's my OC, I guess: Lance

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