Peter Frost
Newbie
Spectacle-Wearing Sharpshooter
Posts: 18
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Post by Peter Frost on Feb 27, 2013 21:44:47 GMT -5
“Hollow bait… It had to be Hollow bait… Honestly, if I find the bloody Quincy who got that out, I’ll shoot them myself…”
Muttering incoherently to himself, Peter jogged off the beaten track, heading towards the town outskirts. He hadn’t heard much of the situation – it had just been a quick call on his mobile, explaining that some idiot had let off some Hollow bait, and had died as a result of the metric tonnes of the dearly departed that had come through. Not wanting to rely on the Shinigami, viewing them as slow and inefficient, he had been tasked with clearing up what he could, within the limits of his weaponry and physical abilities.
Fortunately, it was only the Quincy that had died, and Peter felt no sympathy or pity for the devoured soul. The whole idea of using the bait with no backup was a stupid idea, he thought – he shook his head in an unmistakeably tired manner, and continued jogging towards the area that had been specified over the phone. Already, he could hear the guttural roars of the mindless beasts, their only drive to find souls to devour, their thoughts long since perished. They were easy pickings for someone trained to deal with them, a concept made evident by Peter picking off a straggler with little effort.
Six feet tall and built like a tank, the fact that the lumbering tower of muscle was stronger than Peter made little difference. Its reach only went so far, and as he had trained for more or less six years at the hands of another crack shot, the pistol quickly left its mark. Two shots to each knee, and a flurry of rounds to the head once it had been dropped. Nothing that made Peter break more of a sweat than the jogging. Muttering even more, the boy kept his pace, pistols kept out of their holsters at his side. He was likely getting near the scene of the crime, and had to keep his wits about him.
And there they were – at least forty Hollows, the number increasing at quite a pace. He knew he couldn’t take them head-on, but some small solace was taken in the fact that the bait’s effect was starting to wear off, and with any luck, Hollow activity would return to normal soon. He’d have to start with the stragglers, the ones at the back, before moving onto the others, so as not to make himself a human Happy Meal. Not that there would be much to be happy about. And, he did just that – one that was struggling to keep up quickly found itself with several rounds pumped into the back of its neck, each one quite deadly to Hollows of its rank.
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Post by Baron La Croix on Mar 1, 2013 19:00:43 GMT -5
Hallows and Togibtio... It was all Kaedes days had been filled with since he had become captain. Seriously, what he would have given for a lazy day of paper work in his office. But no, no he had to be out in about in the living world putting down hallow incursions on the left , while fighting off the literal forces of hell on the right. It was enough to make the generally good natured man some what, if not completely irritable and more then a little violent. Of course this wouldn't have been the case if he had a vice captain who could have shared some of the duties, or at least been a boon companion on these little raids... But no, no one sufficient had shown them selves and so here he was, by him self and pissed off. Hell who wouldn't be? Killing hallows got boring and monotonous after a few hundred years after all, and after you've seen one acid spitting monster you have in fact seen them all.
So he found him self yet again in Karakura town, dispatched for waht seemed like the zilinth time to deal with another mass of hallows and what might or might not be togibito. "Matsu, im getting tired of this" His voice carried out over the wind as he stepped into the living world and he waited for but a second for a response that never came. His partner never spoke after all. But he did find some solace in the act of speaking, if only a little. "I wonder if this hunt will have some more able prey... I feel as if my fangs are getting dull from chewing on weaklings." Yet again he speaks for not better reason then to speak, to hear the sound of a voice, though the hunter did wish he had some with whom he could converse with.
Still. he moved with a sort of single mindedness one only saw in an apex predator that had the scent of its prey and as he moved his sharp eyes scanned the horizon and his keen ears listened to any nose the wind might carry him. Yes, he heard it then... Sudden gun shots and the cries of dying hallows. Gun shots?Was there a Quincy at work? He moved off toward the mixing sounds, and with every passing second they grew crisper and clearer and soon enough he came to what could only be described as a mass of hallows... And a single boy who was fighting them. Its was something of a sight to see, and for but a moment he stood there and watched what amounted to theater show. Then with a sudden burst of speed he leapt into the fray, Matsu flashing in his hands her shining blade gleaming in the light of the area.
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Peter Frost
Newbie
Spectacle-Wearing Sharpshooter
Posts: 18
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Post by Peter Frost on Mar 1, 2013 20:52:32 GMT -5
Having been keeping away from the main crowd, Peter had been making an impact that was – it had to be said – fairly minimal. Not that he worried, he figured he could just keep running and distracting them, picking off some while the professionals managed to get their act together. Pushing limits was important, but so was knowing them. Numerous Hollows fell to his spirit shots, but it was inevitable that they pick up on his shots, and turn to meet the boy. This was bad – and, though it was only a few, they still posed quite a significant threat. Just as he was about to squeeze the trigger, he appeared – flashing steel amidst a cacophony of shrieks. The cavalry had arrived, but Peter was in the zone. He wasn’t leaving the zone just yet.
More confident that he Hollows would be distracted, Peter threw caution to the wind, and let off a stream of shots, every four bullets from the modified handguns heading straight into a Hollow’s throat or face. Their masks were punctured, but never truly broke, but that was the beauty of it all. He didn’t need brute force to achieve his goals, as much as it would have helped. He hunted low-level Hollows, and the firearms had proved more than sufficient for his objectives. He span around one-hundred and eighty degrees, to dodge the fist of an incoming Hollow, sliding himself through its legs as he took aim.
It seemed to take the Hollow a moment or two to comprehend the fact that it had been shot. It didn’t take it much longer to be truly obliterated, but its destroyer had no time for idleness at admiring his own work. The Hollows were still coming thick and fast, and though a Shinigami had arrived on the scene, this was no guarantee that he would be protected. If anything, they could mistake him for a Quincy, and that would be quite the awkward discussion. Nevertheless, he kept firing and though his rate of dispatching was far slower than his ally’s, he was still doing the job.
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Post by MC Hollow on Mar 6, 2013 16:55:14 GMT -5
MC was sitting on his favorite tree again, thinking thoughts that he didn't like to think... first of which was why was he thinking so much? He shrugged and shuffled it away for another time. The soft steady beat of his pauldrons helped cool his stomach and his thoughts. This was most of his days now, sitting and thinking. He missed the days of mindless eating, life was easier then, less monotonous... or at least simpler. Scratching his mask he contemplated the changes his life had undergone since the rising of the Hell gate and what that actually meant to him.
Then it hit him, the most delicious smell in the world, a wafting aroma that grabbed the shrunken stomach of the Hollow and wouldn't let go. It smelt so savory. It was close, or at least close by, if he hurried he could beat the inevitable swarm of his stupider weaker brethren. With a smile that made him look more like a laughing skull than a happy spirit MC sprang off of the Tree. One of the perks of being dead is you no longer had to care about what people thought, and on that note he salivated, a lot. His mind went through the many things it could be, a wounded Shinigami, a Quincy out alone, or a new Pulse out on the street! Oh the possibilities were endless but the smell was still there!
Jumping from building to building MC came closer and closer to the delicious smell, his eternally empty stomach driving him forward. Has he sprung closer to the site he could see Hollows dropping from the sky to join the supposed feast. Bursting onto the scene MC was hard to miss. With the clawed mouth of his pauldrons spouting music he slammed into the middle of the swarm, right where the smell was strongest, throwing the other Hollows in a shock-wave of force.
"What smells so yummy!" He shouted after rising again to his full eight foot height.
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Peter Frost
Newbie
Spectacle-Wearing Sharpshooter
Posts: 18
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Post by Peter Frost on Mar 6, 2013 18:18:04 GMT -5
Peter was never as good a marksman as his tutor, but he was by far an extremely accurate one. Even when dual wielding - from the hip, no less – he was hitting Hollows in the face, their masks being left with a distinctive hole in the forehead. Hollows to the left of him, Hollows to the right of him – some got close but he had the intelligence and ability to dodge. After all, he would have stuck with the rifle if he was only trained in ranged combat. The continuous volley of shots caused Hollows to be obliterated all around him, his temporary ally proving to be a help in keeping a number off of him.
A familiar sound came to Peter’s ear’s – the taunting of a Hollow. Usually unfounded, these taunts were put to rest pretty much every time, given that he had been facing low-level beasts with extremely little combat experience, and a whopping great target on their respective heads. The crashing sound had been an indicator, as had the music blaring from the beast, but the fact of the matter was that there was a Hollow, whether he had been alerted early or not. And, maybe it was gut instinct, but he felt uneasy about this enemy – he felt like something was different about it, like the average mindless carnivore would not be the kind of Hollow this one was.
“I don’t know, but it certainly isn’t you. Tried flossing lately?”
Firing off a short volley of shots at his new adversary, peter dove behind the cover of a tree, approximately six and a half feet from the dead MC. His firearms were beginning to get warmer – this was a bad sign. He’d been firing them non-stop, and they were evidently suffering for it. If only for a minute, he had to give them some time to cool down. Not that they would break so easily, but he needed his shots at full effectiveness, and an overheated weapon made for quite the ineffective gun.
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Post by Baron La Croix on Mar 6, 2013 22:23:53 GMT -5
Bullets and blades flew, cutting down hallow after nameless hallow. It was hardly a challenge for the half naked shinigami, in fact he had yet to break a sweat. "Why. Wont. They. Stay. Dead." Or well purified for that matter. It seemed that there was a never ending sea of hallows, and no matter how many times they turned back the encroaching tide it always came back and with renewed strength. Was this fight pointless? Where the shinigami fighting a loosing battle against an army of darkness? Maybe... But oddly enough that didn't bother him, in fact his hnters spirit was more then slightly thrilled at the prospect of fighting an endless battle against impossible odds.
So there he was, slashing away with out a care in the world... And then he head it, a voice among the voiceless masses rang out... And it proclaimed in no uncertain terms that something... Some where smelled amazing. Well, he scented the air as well and had to disagree... It smelled as if something had died recently... Which just so happened to be the case so he should not have been surprised. Was that the smell that hallows found so attractive? Must be. And was this Quincy exchanging banter with a hallow? "The hell are you two talking about?"
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Post by MC Hollow on Mar 6, 2013 23:01:53 GMT -5
The weird small human thing shouted at MC and then a whistling sound flew at him. He moved to the sound and felt a strange sharp pain in his arm. It was a strange feeling, one that pulled at some long forgotten memory of his past human life. Then the feeling dawned on him. "You SHOT me!" Shouted the Hollow. His arm laid on the ground where the bullet had sheared it off. Its fingers moving slightly before its energy dissipated. Another spirit presence shouted out as well, this time asking what they were talking about. MC turned to the swirling figure, it's blade cutting through ranks of Hollows, definitely a Soul Reaper. "He shot me!" The Hollow shouted out to the Shinigami.
Reaching out MC grabbed a smaller Hollow, shoving the weaker creature into his mouth he used the reiatsu to regrow his arm. Flexing his new limb MC's eyes twirled with fire, the music surrounding him hitting higher beats. "Now why did you have to do a thing like that? Now I'm going to have to eat ya."
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Peter Frost
Newbie
Spectacle-Wearing Sharpshooter
Posts: 18
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Post by Peter Frost on Mar 13, 2013 20:12:04 GMT -5
“Like hell you are. I’ll see you perish, abomination.”
Running out from behind cover, Peter let off a few more shots in his main foe’s direction, raising an eyebrow at him having regenerated his limb so soon. Granted, he’d seen it before, so the shock was virtually lost on him. However, the fact that he regenerated at all posed quite a problem, prompting his brain to think up something more than just ‘shoot to kill.’ However, for the lesser beings, that required little more than a few well-placed headshots, such a thought process was not required, and he could just shoot merrily.
He couldn’t focus, however – too many enemies were being drawn to him, even though the bait’s effect was wearing off. However, he did notice the speaker-like items on the Hollow’s shoulders, a pair of quite prominent things. And, if he’d learnt anything over the years, it was that shooting the most prominent thing usually did something. So, he let off another volley of rounds, this time at what was mounted upon the shoulders of his foe.
“Those look important!” he shouted as he dashed across the area, drawing closer. His gut told him not to, but if he was sincere, he trusted his head over his gut instincts.
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Post by Baron La Croix on Apr 18, 2013 17:26:28 GMT -5
"Should i help... Or should i just sit back and watch this go down..." Now that was the question! It had been a while since he had just sat back and watched a fight go down, it had been even longer since he had been able to relax and just take a load off his chest... So with those thoughts he sat down and spread his coat out on the ground before him. This was bound to be interesting... And after the fight he could come in and clean up, Quincy after all where not suppose to be left living... At least in his mind. "I wish i had a snack...." He rested his chin on his hands and just gazed out over what would soon become a battle field.
A few seconds later he felt something crash down on his skull, he looked behind him and saw a Hallow standing right there with a grim on its disgusting face. With a sigh he unsheathed his sword one more time and struck the foul beast down before turning back to his evenings entertainment.
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Post by MC Hollow on Apr 18, 2013 17:53:31 GMT -5
The annoying thing ran at MC, it's guns blazing as it quipped that he was an 'abomination'. That hurt, MC wasn't an abomination, he was as natural as the sun, as the sky. It wasn't his fault he was... whatever he was, it was nature.
The bullets from the man slammed into MC's pualdrons causing him to stagger back slightly. "You really are an annoying little one ain't ya?" MC smiled to himself as the man ran closer and closer, snapping off shots from his gun. MC vibrated his body slightly with the sound from his pauldrons, building up the energy and loosening the 'speakers' to better clearly blast the noise. He weaved his body back and forth slightly to the music he created dodging as many of the bullets as he was able. The few that hit smarted against his skin quite strongly.
"I'm not an abomination," he spoke softly, "I'm just me."
With those words the man was close enough, and MC dropped forward towards him, his mouth impossible open and the speakers of his pauldrons blazing. The area around MC became blurred as the sound waves bounced against each other at high waves of frequency. The few Hollows that were caught in the sphere of of MC's Electric Screech screamed in pain as their ears were assaulted by the high frequency sound waves.
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