Listless Nomad, on 29 February 2012 - 05:43 PM, said:
The rounds impacted in a line towards James, but he was able to roll out of the way to avoid being obliterated. Scrambling to his feet he dove back into the cover he shared with Raven, obscured from the tank once again. Covered in small cuts, james tried to regain his breath. Seated with his back to the wall, he stared at the mech mired in the ruins of a building not 30 feet away.
Raven never thought his chance would come so soon. The chance to shout an incredible one-liner while acting totally bad*ss in the face of danger.
...and he couldn't think of one.
As Autocannon fire rained more shrapnel around them, James looked at him with increasing panic. Undoubtedly his heart was in his throat like Damon's was.
Then it clicked.
Shouldering the launcher and checking the systems, Damon waited a half a second for the tank to finish firing before he popped out from his cover.
"As they say at the Planned Parenthood Clinic, BETTER LATE THAN NEVER!!!"
[[yep, that just happened.
]]
The missle flew out of the pod, barely igniting its propellant before it impacted with the tanks turret. The explosion knocked Damon on his *ss, the empty launcher flying out of his arms. Dazed, he reached again for his shotgun as he felt him being dragged to his feet; James returning the favor.
"Come on, that was a nice shot, now lets move!"
Damon struggled for a bit before regaining his orientation, noticing that his face felt a lot hotter than normal. Registering the pain and thinking clearly as he winced, he carefully examined himself as they ran. No blisters and a few cuts, so it was probably just a first degree burn. He could live with that.
As they ran through the alley, albeit a lot less smoothly or well-coordinated than before, all Damon could think about was the lack of pursuit sounds coming behind them. Stopping just short of the alley entrance, Damon listened to confirm. James noticed too, and they both listened. Aside from the explosions, some of which was probably from the tank, there were no footsteps, no yelling, no screaming. Nothing.
That was either really good, or really bad; for them at least.
Peering out the entrance, Damon took a long hard look at the depot across from them. The gate lay in shambles, and several rows of fencing where torn out around the facility as well. Damon could barely make out figures moving around in the mech hangers in the distance, but the office building, the closest of all the buildings, looked clear. Scanning for snipers, which he saw none, Damon was perplexed by the sudden difference in merc presence by one street. He figured the appearance of an enemy mech might have something to do with it, since tank tracks were present all over the area.
Damon now heard shouting in the distance, and he had no doubt it would be coming their way.
"Let's move."
Taking one last look out either side, Damon sprinted across to the office building, thankfully finding no enemies, since he quickly ran out of breath halfway across and only jogged the last 20 meters to the office building entrance. Struggling to lift the shotgun, which had become increasingly heavy, Damon signaled his partner to do the same. It seemed he was just as worn out, as James practically collapsed after the last 10 meters to the building.
Wanting to catch his breath but knowing they were sitting ducks in the open, Damon readied to enter the (hopefully) abandoned office building and collect his gear.
[[I'll leave the next part to you Nomad. remember, our first 'goal' is the 3rd floor.

]]
[[Further note: we're just a mess aren't we?]]
Edited by Damon Howe, 01 March 2012 - 10:26 AM.