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[LSDF] Dissidents - Homefront Worries

On the fucking ground.

The pain came secondary to the confusion Adept felt. And then slowly it returned to her as the feeling of having the air knocked out of her turned into having the air knocked out of her EXCEPT ON FIRE as the rushed intake of air seemed to restart something in the occhestan while heat seemed to grow more and more on her and refused to stop. For some reason, her arms not working like she wanted as one simply didn't move right and the other kept looking for a zipper of all things she knew she didn't have on the front of her vest.

Through the haze and growing clarity she wasn't at all concerned oddly enough as she was... No, Concerned she was. What she wasn't was coherent. Something wrong was happening that she couldn't quite figure out. Why did it feel like she way laying in the grass with her face feeling like it was too close to a heating element? Why was there grass on a starship?

Something about mutants...

They probably broke something...
 
Shaman was completely confused with what happened as all hell broke loose around her. With this she got her gun ready and followed the others, she wasn't really sure why Adept did what happened but she fought with the others. She looked over at the others "I am going after Adept, make sure they won't dies while this is going on."

With this Shaman, still staying close to the ground and shooting moved towards where Adept had gone, surprised by the mutants but she knew her job was to make sure the team stayed alive. So he looked around for what would be Adept, when she saw what happened to Breaker "first Adept, then Breaker" she mumbled to herself. As she finally got to Adept she checked over the person and sighed, She pulled Adept towards better cover so she could properly check over the woman "mhmm, I don't like this, Adept can you hear me, does anywhere hurt?"
 
BGM:


With a single quick movement of his wris, the dripping monstrosity rose into the air, trapped on the end of an enormous fang of heat-forged metal, wielded by a titan of metal and mimicry-biomatter. Like a violent offering to savage gods of old, the flailing creature rose high to the sky, its fearsomeness now more akin to a writhing vermin impaled on a baited trap. Rounds flew and pinged against the hull of the grand terror, flashing in bursts of cyan-white or bright orange-yellow sparks, pinging off or dispersing into the faded undustrial green and bleached bone white. The writhing paused as the immense force of the downwards stoke whipped the limbs upwards as the tortured body slammed into the ground.

Bones crunched, flesh split, and innards spilled out freed from their bodily cage by body-shattering impact cratering a lifeless, misshapen pile of viscera and limbs into the ground. Scumcleanser's single arm shoved the blade upwards, still buried in the corpse and motioned for his squadmates to get behind him and the blade. The weapons fire was doing little to both he and his massive weapon and now it provided additional cover. A furious storm of bullets and bolts screeched and crackled his way as he lifted a bulkier, thicker weapon. It was his enormous cannon, a grotesque hybrid of mining equipment and repurposed military equipment. Its bulky body weighed with chunky cylindical cases, smooth-handled railings, a number of box-like protrusions, and a number of carrying handles some of which were his own additions; it could be wielded as a cannon or rifle.

Right now, it was the former, held under his arm with his other hand steadying a carrying handle nearer to its large snouth-barrel. His camera drones had vanished into the woods admist the conflict, hiding amongst the trees. Each one began marking, scanning, and tracking various targets and their cover positions. His body shifted abruptly as if his torso was now swivelling upon his waist. The gnarly weapon, Retribution's Voice, stared at a combatant straight through their own holo-sights.

No uproarious report signalled their demise but a sharp, gaseous hiss underscored by shrill crackles. The weapon's tubular barrel glowed and a small spurt of blue-white power burst from its end. There was a sound like a gigantic palm slapping onto a stack of meat with a harsh, eardrum rattling crack and another sound like the sound of matches snapping made horrifically loud with a loud, sneering crack. If one looked into the woods they would see a bisected torso-free body, still standing as in disbelief of its now incomplete state, and the massive chunk of the tree behind torn clean off.

The weapon spat again and again, its humble report answered with hellish devastation throughout the woods.
 
Forest Clearing

Before he could ever detach the mass of flesh and gore from his sword, Scumcleanser would come under fire from the woods. Granted to his body, it wouldn't do much, but the sudden sustatined stream of weapon damage from the woods would be worrisome were it not for the fact that suddenly the woods were awash in explosions from the being. Thankfully the creatures in the woods had no idea what stealth was, or that there were enemies in their clearing, so there was no chance of a proper ambush having a chance to be set up. Instead they were disorganized and easily destroyed. Random shots were fired back into the clearing after the initial stream of sustained fire in on Scumcleanser but beyond that, there was nothing that could be considered dangerous until eventually, there was nothing. The enemies either dead or retreated, the clearing fell silent as Breaker struggled to her feet with a hand on her head.

"Report!" She shouted into the clearing and shook her head before she looked over to the burned Adept on the ground.
 
Honeybee cocked her head, heart pounding, her body in overdrive as her stingers flexed. "I smell attack pheremones. Several hives' worth."
 
While she could hear shaman, none of the words seemed to register to adept. Indeed a more rational part of her that was already starting to compartmentalize the situation took note and forced her to focus on the woman as the barest notion of memory started to come to the forefront as the occhestan tried to grasp at the fleeting thought.

Her face and side still hurt like all hell and her body was unnaturally tight for lack of a better word. Regardless with a feat of superhuman focus the NAM tech practically shot upwards into a sitting position and fought a sensation of pain and nausea. Shrugging away from the medics touch she finally got to see her surroundings and blanched.

Not mutants. A part of her head pointed out the obvious. She knew what they were even if her mind had yet to relay the information but struggled to bring the right name to the forefront of her thoughts as oblivious to Shamans actions she managed to shuffle forwards on her hands and knees in a slow and painful gait while looking for her nearby ZARCNAM which she had yet to process was dragging between her legs on its sling.

When the info finally registered she managed to sit upright into a kneeling position on both knees and hug the carbine to her chest. Her vision seemed blurry and black on one side and no matter how still she tried to be it felt like the whole world was simply spinning too fast and made her sway violently as she let out a pained groan that had intended to be some kind of string of coherent words.

Her mind had finally caught up with her but Adepts body still seemed to be far behind...
 
RPG-D RPGfix
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