Forums » Sci-Fi Roleplay » Comfortably Numb (Semi Open, Ask First)

"Talk about it later?" Randall asked Josh, who merely nodded again. How uncharscteristic. "Good. C'mon, let's go."
He stood up and staggered there a moment like a hungover alcoholic. "Whoa... Holy crap..."
Josh limped to his feet and steadied his brother with a skinny arm around his shoulders, his eyes still wide and vacant. "Have a gun... I don't want it anymore... I don't know..."
Yeah, something wasn't right, Randall figured.

"No, fools! Kill American!" A voice boomed in a heavy, loud, commanding accent. He was Russian. No doubt. Sanders didn't waste a second in opening fire with his MP5, sending the poor infantrymen to their deaths. Vladimir smiled, his Aviator glasses letting him see through the smoke, and his fist tightening. Sanders was just about to see the man behind all of this.

Roberts got up, another man with him. That man screamed, and two 20mm shells ripped through his chest, killing him instantly. Vladimir's hand just rested by his side, returned there by his will. In his left hand was a .475 automatic machine gun, most likely something not known to mankind yet. It looked like an MP5, but wasn't. It was short, and had a clip of 30 rounds. Light enough to be carried in one hand, and very accurate.

Roberts tried to distract him, shooting his 9mm pistol into the man, but it didn't even hurt him. It just hit his armor, which was the usual infantry body armor for commandos. Kevlar with a titanium plate. Vladimir took one look at that man, and swung his fist, shattering the skull.

"NOW WHAT?!" Randall yelled over the gunfire to Sanders, locking and loaded and plugging an unfortunate Russian who had gotten too close for comfort.
Josh was breathing heavily, the sounds deafening and rattling around in his currently empty mind. This... This was incomprehensible. The kid just couldn't compute.
He had killed people, and now Randall was too. The hell?

"Vladimir... Oh dear god..." Sanders couldn't understand. Vladimir had ordered the strike, ordered everything. Now he was raiding the US with everything he had. And that was a lot. As far as Sanders knew, there wasn't much that could kill Vladimir. The infantrymen in front of Vladimir were shredded by Randall and Sanders, but Vladimir wouldn't budge. He just kept smiling. "Run. Like. Hell."

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed, shoving Josh behind him and toward the place Sanders said to go originally. "Josh- RUN, JOSH! I'LL COVER YOU- GO!"
The order found its way to Josh's brain and his instincts kicked in. Run? He had never heard a better idea before in his life.
Off he went, limping as fast as he could go, as Randall back pedaled and covered his brother's retreat. He was definitely taking the idea of death better, mostly because he didn't think about it like Josh did. Josh over thought the situation; Randall merely looked at them as enemies who were threatening his life and his brother's life and had to be knocked out before they could cause any harm. Simple as that.

"Randall?" Sanders had his gun ready, but had a couple of grenades unpinned. He'd distract Vladimir while they escaped. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too hard. Unfortunately, that's just what he always thought. Sometimes he was right, other times he was wrong. Oh so wrong. He hoped it wasn't like this today.

"What?" he asked in return, glancing over at Sanders quickly after blowing out the kneecaps of a Russian. "What is it?"

"When I drop these, run in the opposite direction of me. Got it? Meet up at Navy Pier," Sanders said, and dropped the grenades. He took off on the right side, so that he would draw the cannon fire from Vladimir, and that the .475 weapon was trained on Randall. He knew Randall would be okay, but he didn't know about himself.

"Got it. Watch your ass," he added after a moment of thought before sprinting away as fast as his long legs could carry him, catching up with Josh and helping to drag him along to the Navy pier. "How's your leg?"
"I killed people, Randall. People."
Now that explained everything.

As per Jacob's orders, a 1 hour artillery barrage was ordered, and prepped. He knew that Vladimir was out there, but he didn't know where. So the artillery strike was ordered on the airplane. Huge 152mm guns roared in the night, pounding the ground to rubble. Vladimir, Sanders, and the boys escaped, and Sanders got to the gates of the barbed wire. Hopefully they'd recognize them.

(Keep going, I'm not sure how to respond)

( Happened twice.)

"Hey, boys, you okay?" Sanders said, crouching down on a piece of rubble. The barbed wire gate in front of them had to be opened from the inside, but he could've just as easily hopped the fence. He didn't want to, but it was a good option. If any.

"Fine," Randall said with a nod, an oddly comforting arm around Josh's shoulders. "Got a helluva headache but it should go away in the morning."
If he lived to see the morning.

"Good, good. How about you, Josh? Still got the PTSD?" Sanders was rubbing his head, mostly because it hurt like hell. Of course it would hurt like hell. What part of him WOULDN'T hurt like hell?

"I killed people," Josh replied with a sigh. "What do you think?"

"I kill people for a living. Sorry to burst your bubble, really, I am, but you gonna have to learn how to use a gun, otherwise, you're dead meat. Everyone here has their own firearm, and everyone knows everything about it. As soon as I get inside, I'll get to work on you two. I heard Matt has a couple of Thompsons that he could give away. His has "God's Warrior" Engraved on it." Sanders said, and couldn't help but laugh at that. It was funny that he engraved it on there.

Josh shrugged, picking at his fingernails.
"This is the kind of kid who lets the spiders in the house go," Randall murmured, massaging Josh's tense shoulders. "You'll get used to it, Josh."

"You guys will do fine. Trust me. Both of you will do fine. Hey, Randall, Matt himself might be able to train you. That would be something," Sanders showed complete admiration of that idea. "Sadly, you will get used to it. To a point where its not even... a thought. Just a reaction,"

That was the deal... Josh didn't want to get used to it. But of course he didn't say that.
Randall let out a weary sigh and rested his head on Josh's shoulder, listening to their surroundings carefully. It was quiet, kinda funny considering they were in a freaking war zone before.

"You won't like it at all. I didn't when I joined the Army. But talk to Jacob about it. He might want to give advice. And here he is!" Jacob was indeed walking down the open area between hell and safety, a .50 sniper rifle strapped across his back, a Thompson on his shoulder, the revolver in his pocket, a cigarette smoking, and his aviators shining. Sanders stepped back, and let him talk.

"Thanks Sanders. Now, listen. My name is Major General Jacob Robbins. I am the second in command of this group, the deadliest person here, and I will be personally see to it that you two are well taken care of. But we must hurry, for I have pressing matters to attend to." Jacob opened the gate, and nodded to Sanders. This could be an interesting group.