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[Halloween] The YE 34 (2012) Festival of Bullets

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Kokuten

Kokuten

The Pixel Knight
Inactive Member
"I got .45's!"

"I got 8-gauge."

"I got .50 cal, armor piercing!"

"I got a grenade..."

"I'll trade you some gun-gums for your grenade."

"Eh...

"Five gun-gums and I'll toss in a pixie bar for free!"

"Deal!"

Children went to and fro, up and down the streets, toting little ammo boxes filled with bullets and candy. As was Nepleslian tradition, the young ones every Nepleslian family went out in a disguise and went door to door, delighted greeting every homeowner with a loud 'Bullets or Boom!'. From there, the homeowner was entitled to give out some bullets, or some candy depending what they had on hand. When rewarded, the 'Bullet-Runners' jogged off excitedly to knock on another door. When denied, usually when rudely denied, the children resorted to 'Boom-tactics', which was really whatever they had to prank or vandalise a home.

This holiday, however, was not always a holiday. The Festival of Bullets was once a simple supply day out of the year. In particular, the holiday got it's start when the youngest of every gang went out in opposing gang colors to go around asking for armament or bullets. Generally it proved to be a successful tactic, but the genuine bullet-runners of yesteryear decided to make it into something more child-friendly for their progeny generation.

Today, the Bullet-Runners in the Festival of Bullets go around in all sorts of costumes. Sometimes they wear old gang colors, military uniforms(even Yamataian), or less run of the mill costumes that had nothing to do with guns. Children ask for candy and bullets, instead of supplies like back in the old days. Shops, which normally kept to the inside of their reinforced walls, had booths outside that sold nice treats. Some stalls, particularly for the children, only accepted bullets for payment.

Why?

Bullets were not just a traditional aspect the holiday, but they also served the purpose of acting as currency on the Festival of Bullets. Children would learn the value of their small-time currency, and even barter and trade among each other, learning to haggle efficiently. Bullets would go for the stall, earning even better treats or items. Sometimes kids would exchange between each other, giving their candy value against the standard bullet, with caliber generally marking value. However, all in all, it was truly up to the individual to how much value that little .45 ACP round had.

If you were an adult, you mostly had to escort the children aboout. Yet, the Festival of Bullets wasn't just for the roving candy gatherers. Some booths and stalls still took DA, and more often than not, store-owners were selling things they didn't sell throughout the year. Rare meats(Like Rader-Gator On A Stick[a popular favorite]), certain candies like Pixie Bars(Solid blocks of flavored sugar[keep out of reach of children]), and even a few alcohols for people of Nepleslian to drink and revel with each other.

((Kids and Adult characters go wild!))
----

Even with Nepleslia still rebuilding after the terrorist attacks of almost a year ago, there was no shortage people on the streets. The Festival of Bullets was too much of a joy for people to neglect. Suku Matsobuki in particular wasn't going to let her daughter miss out on this all important day, considering she probably hadn't been able to enjoy all that much this far. Suku herself liked Bullet-Running as a kid, atypically trading all of her candy for more bullets, so she'd up being the richest kid on the block.

Tonight she had brought her daughter to the biggest center for the Festival of Bullets, Funky City.

"So, Carina, what have you scrounged up already?" asked Suku, adjusting her garrison cap, as she chose to wear her military uniform to be in the spirit of things.
 
IPG Operator Lenz Neis was disgusted with himself as he stared at himself in the mirror. He had been ordered to try to blend in at the Festival of Bullets in this specific costume and try to keep the kids and the streets safe.

The medium length bubblegum pink wig he had been given was placed carefully over a knit cap that kept his own red hair hidden. He grimaced at the red paneled Type 30 female Yamataian duty uniform he had been given. He had no idea that such uniforms existed in his size and height. The appearance would have been even more comical if he had been the height of an ID-SOL. He thought he was going to split the knit sleeves by putting his arms through, but it seemed to fit, barely. The white gloves hid his cybernetic hand and the sleeves hid his cybernetic arm but the fabric strained over the bulk of his muscles.

He adjusted the obnoxiously sized bra with silicon insets had been given to more appropriately fit the part of a large wide woman. The fake breasts looked weird over top of his developed chest. His frown deepened at the length of the skirt... if it could even be called a skirt. It looked more like a thick belt that just barely covered his muscular thighs over top of his dark blue boxers. "This is ridiculous," he grumbled but orders were orders and here he was about to go "have fun" as his orders stated.

The Nepleslian stared at his reflection in the mirror and tried not to clench his fist too hard- the gloves would only take so much stress without ripping. He had also been given knee high white leather boots which oddly seemed to have been made to fit over his overdeveloped calves. "I don't think I want to know," he muttered as he pulled the boots on before practicing walking around in the contraptions without crashing on the floor in the clunky heels. He of course, had refused to shave his legs but his legs were naturally hairless above his knees for some strange reason.

What seemed to bother him most about this disguise were the pink fuzzy neko ears built into the wig. It felt like insult to injury. It took him an hour before he shoved his service pistol into the functional white leather drop holster on his left leg that connected to the gun belt that hung across his hips. He imagined that his Mei would laugh and tell him to be a good sport about this and that knowledge gave him back some of his resolve. "Fuck them. I'll do this."

He shoved a knife into his right boot and made sure he had the white leather satchel that held the other things he required. He stepped out of the building and down the steps, a 5'5", thickly muscular, heavy, pink haired neko.

For Nepleslia, fucking hell, the IPG operative thought to himself.
 
((Let's just say that this was after Operation Roundhouse on 4th Fleet, and Henry had a day off))

Henry Morris was humming a tune. One of those heavy metal songs as he walked around wearing a green armour breastplate with the abdominal section torn open and some fake scratches drawn across his abdomen. He was also wearing a bulky helmet with a blue visor, green pants with brown boots, a black belt that concealed a battery pack, and black gloves. Streaked up his bare arms and splattered on his breastplate was a fake blood recipe that tasted like strawberries. This was the outfit that appeared on the NSMC recruitment posters. One of the things Henry couldn't conceal was the NSMC Engineer tattoo on his right arm, close to the elbow, since the tattoo in the poster was a Marine tattoo, not an Engineer's. Oh well.

In his hands was a sawn off double-barrel shotgun optimised for run-and-gun use, a miniature chainsaw in his other hand tethered to his belt, and on his back was what looked like a huge box brimming with lights and with 'BFG-9001' painted onto it - which doubled as his storage medium for all of the bullets he was getting. His chainsaw was a secure item, if someone tried to pull it out of his grasp, it'd power down.

"Bullets 'n booms, or face your Doom!" He'd say after knocking on the doors and revving his chainsaw to one side whilst holding the BFG, eager for ammunition, "Rip and tear!" He couldn't help but start chuckling after some of the cheesier lines he had in his arsenal, but that was all part of the fun.

If nothing else, all the spare ammo would give him more room to experiment when he built new weapons in his spare time, and save on costs, as well as little bits of gunmaking equipment. He walked past the IPG operator undercover, smiled under the helmet and remarked: "Heh, nice one. Aren't Nekos not allowed on Nepleslia or is there an exception for the Festival of Bullets, so they can see what they're missing out on?" Clearly Lenz's disguise had fooled the jovial marine.
 
The IPG operator stared at Henry Morrris in disbelief and did something unnatural for the serious manly Nepleslian he was, he giggled with a girlish if gravelly, "Teehee!" His regular voice was high enough that he could mimic a voice of a woman who was a chain smoker but nothing more feminine than that without tech. "Everyone gets to enjoy the Festival of Bullets, even little nekos like me, Nyan!"

Lenz forced his most girlish, vapid smile and twirled a strand of PINK hair with a gloved finger. He tried his best not to growl or grit his teeth. If he knew who's idea it was to have him dress this way, he'd gut them but he was stuck like this for now.

He let his posture loosen up and twisted his arms in front of his ample, firm yet squishy cleavage, "Did you just get back, Nyan?" He asked, batting long, fake and gaudy pink eyelashes. "Or are you here to save me from some vicious Mishuu trying to ravage my tight body, nyan?"
 
"Well!" Henry said, in an enforced upbeatness - having just stabbed, shot and sliced his way through an NMX warship and taken the fight to a planet just a week ago - engaging in this bit of fun to take his mind off of the horrors of war for a day and enjoy life. "Don't you worry, miss!" He flexed his right arm to show off the NSMC Engineer tattoo - not the Marine tattoo - "The NMSC will protect you, 'cause our cause is just, our wills are strong and our guns are very, very large!"

He then sighed, dropping the voice and shrugging, leaning against a lamp post. "But really, I'm on shore leave; Taking a rest, gathering supplies and Maker forbid having fun while I'm at it." He reached into one of the belt pockets and produced a flask of brandy, tipping his helmet upwards and taking a swig from it before offering it to Lenz, "Did you lose a bet?"
 
Lenz laughed, "You have no idea, thank you, Nyan," as he accepted the flask gratefully and took a long pull before handing it back. "Welcome back, at any rate, it's a good time to be back, with the festivities and all, Nyan," he had to admit that the "Nyan" thing was bugging him but it was a part of the get-up. "Supplies is what today is all about and everyone gets to have some fun, Nyan! So are you trading bullets or DA, Nyan?"

The short Nepleslian actually disliked alcohol but the brandy reminded him that the burn was less agonizing as wearing heels, a skirt or being forced to say, "Nyan". His eyes scanned the passing crowd and most avoided staring too long, it was just too bizarre of an image for most men to look at but for others, it was a train wreck that they could not look away from. Gods, I hope no one thinks I am a hooker...
 
At this point Henry could feel a gentle tap on his shoulder. Turning around he came face to face with Robert Davis. Except this Davis was for some reason than the one from telly, not to mention his beard was obviously fake. As was his hat, judging from the smiley face on its front emblem. The rest of the uniform seemed fairly genuine and person in the costume even sported the cane and golden chain at his side.

The person smiled at Henry and the glimpse of orange-like skin around his eyes could tell Henry who it really is. The bears might be massive, but the height and the skin was always a giveaway for people who knew this person.

"Hello Henry," her voice could be heard. Alexandra tried to sound manlier, but in ended up how it usual. She sounded like woman trying to sound like man. Which meant she sounded like something in-between. "Getting yourself bulletted up eh" She said with smile.

This was her first Festival of Bullets and she was having good time. Not to mention finding Henry who she did not see in some time. Alex herself did not go on to try and gather bullets yet. She herself had a satched over her shoulder full of RPB round and 10mm bullets she readied should some kids try to rob her.

Then she noticed the very pink person next to Henry. Her eyes shifted to Lenz and started scanning him from head to her feet. She stopped shortly on his hips and thighs. Lenz could see her blink a few time. "Uhh," she said, trying to be polite towards Henry's friend. Even if it was man dressed like neko with cotton-candy hair. Drinking alcohol. "Nice costume," was all Alex said in the end. After all she herself got dressed as man too....
 
Under the dyed pink hair which Suku had done up in an elaborate style, Carina looked up at her mother. The normally hazel eyes now a bright blue thanks to contact lenses. Holding up the sack with some effort, she shook it, the tell-tale metallic rattle of ammunition rubbing against crinkling plastic candy wrappers and composite magazines.

"A buncha' 7.62mm, .45 ACP, .357 SMG, 9mm, an' 12 gauge bullets an' shells!" The white labcoat in which she wore, slightly too big for her covered her hands as she peered inside.

"An' candy." That word, spoken with a reverence every child knew, sweets, gun-gums, choco-bombs, the works. Enough raw sugar in every bite to cause mass panic amongst parents for months to come if a smart kid rationed it.

Carina though had a greedy glint in her eye as she pulled out a large soda can-sized grenade with a red tip. She held it up for Suku, the glint still in what were supposed to be kind, blue eyes now sullied by greed.

"Y'think I can sell all'a it?" The costume she wore, one of a famous, talented and utterly kind scientist hadn't been her first choice. But it seemed to work well on the adults.
 
Suku squatted down and looked into Carina's bag, rather impressed with the young girl's haul. The Naval woman took up the Midir round with one round, having never seen the ammo type before. Still, it was a large shot, probably worth a lot of candy, or some cinna-mines. The woman carefully inspected her smaller ammo pile, more concerned about that than the amount of candy.

Unlike most children, Suku had never really concerned herself with sweets, only one particular brand of ice cream ever really caught her eye. The Festival of Bullets was always about the bullets. Though, her daughter's current haul was enough for her to spread an evil, shark-toothed grin on her face. The motherly expression rotted away into a sinfully proud look, exchanging eyes of greed with eyes of groud.

"See?" said Suku, squeezing her daughter's shoulder, "You get more if you look cute. Milk that sweet and innocent look and you're probably going to need help bringing home the haul you'll get from it all."

Thump. Thump thump. The sound of heavy boots with metal weight clunked on the streets among the passing crowd. Stopping in front of the mother and daughter, with much intimidation with it's ominous size, was a man or what they could assume. He was tall, wearing an old rad-diver suit, a large defense drill mounted on his right arm.

"You know," came a voice from the suit, synthetically produced, "it's not just about the quantity, you know."

"What's it to you, asshole? I don't remember asking your opinion," came Suku's grueling reply at the stranger, to which only came a little laugh as the man flipped up the glowing looking glass of his helmet. Under it were two, glowing yellow eyes, that gently transitioned to green. Suku seemed unimpressed for a few moments, before squinting.

If Suku's face could've shown off an even more unimpressed expression than then, it was there. Though, that was before the shock took her.

"... Kokuten?" guessed the woman. "Is that you?"

"Bingo!" laughed Kokuten, slapping closed his viewing port. "It's been ages, hasn't it?" He pointed that ominous looking drill down at Carina. "And who might this be?"

"O-oh! Kokuten, this is Carina. She's my little girl." answered Suku, realizing that Kokuten, out of all the marines, never actually met or knew the little Fortunan.

"Is that so?" said Kokuten, staring at Suku in silence for a moment, perhaps more in disbelief. Yet, he didn't seem to let that bother him, as he squatted, resting his drill onto the sidewalk. That ominous yellow glow turned to Carina, alighting her features. "You look awfully familiar with that pink hair of yours. You wouldn't happen to be... Purina Popjoy, would you?"
 
"Bit of both. Mostly bartering for gun parts rather than bullets." Henry said before being greeted by Alexandra - as Sky Marshall Davis, He chuckled and gave her a high five, "Of course, Alex!" He then segued into the overblown accent typical of the NMSC Recruitment Guy, waving the unloaded double-barrel shotgun, "Who's the Engie and a half? I'm the Engie and a half - Boomstick packin' Engie and a half!"

He then pulled the BFG off of his back and checked its inside contents, letting his tethered chainsaw rest on his belt, "Hmm, let's see here for bullets... some 10mm, a couple of .303, some KZ 7.62, a .45 HHG White, and a handful of 40-40." His negotiation and bartering skills, as well as slipping some DA and outright buying the parts during sales was getting him places in this festival.

"Oh, and a Pixie Bar, the trigger assembly for a pistol, a bolt without a firing pin, two empty magazines for a GP-1 and a buttstock. I could build a short-barrelled rifle with this if I scrounge some more." He seemed very happy with his haul, "Any offers?"
 
Carina watched the exchange between drill toting giant and her mother after sharing a tender mother daughter moment. Though as he turned his gaze upon her, she held up a hand, shielding her eyes from the yellow glow emanating from the helmet.

"Yeah, Momma wanted me t'look all smart an' cute. Y'know, Mistah, y'got some really bright eyes.."
 
Lenz gave Alexandria a friendly wave and made the mistake of bowing, the already tiny skirt shifted up, but thankfully, the operatr's butt was completely covered by his dark blue boxers. He tried not to scowl again, and instead had a very awkward smile. "I have some treats to hand out actually, nyan!"

He opened the white satchel(large purse) and looked inside... it was filled with round pink with lipstick marks and pastel violet colored flash bangs and smoke grenades. The hell? Where did they get this crap? Someone even had the audacity to give him rose gold colored HHG rounds and .45 zen rounds that had the casings etched with white bunnies. He also had a ton of lollipops, and white fluffy chocolate marshmellow bunnies.
 
Alex gigled a little, which looked kind of funny considering she was dressed as an old man. She smiled at Henry through her badly-fitting bear. THe engineer had quite a loot and Alexandra needed something too.

"Well I only got a lot of 10 mili and some RPBs," she said and sighed, patting her satchel. "How about we go on our merry way and hit some of those stands? I need to get more bullets to give out to kids." She said.
 
"All apart of the costume!" laughed Kokuten, before standing up completely. The large Rad-Diver held up the defensive drill and began to spin before holding up one of his hands. A small glow began to erupt from the palm, before electricity began crackling in his palm. "I went all out for this one, for one of my particular favorite games."

After that little display, he turned to the two and held up a small hazard bag, the contents clinking and crackling quietly within.

"People appreciate a good costume enough that they're willing to tip!" chuckled Kokuten, silencing his spinning drill as he began to garner some stares, "That's the joy in the Festival of Bullets! Every age tends to find their little niche in the costumes. Which is why I go all out to impress, you see."
 
Lenz closed his satchel and looked around the street, trying to locate a child to offload his horribly girly ammunition on, "Well, we should go find some kids to give bullets to, the vendors are all further up the street, nyan." Swear someone has a bizarre fetish to have cooked this whole ensemble together with this much detail, he thought to himself.

He had to get moving, he knew that if he was with a group of people that he'd blend in better than prowling the streets looking like a cheap, neko hooker.
 
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