Foreshadows of Hoenn [IC]
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April 27th, 2013 (7:03 AM).
Private property what the heck are you doing here get out
The Jeep ride was quiet enough, but quite short, too. Turnip's request for a sniper rifle had been denied, for now, but he could see why. Short-to-mid range made sense. Admittedly, a sniper rifle would definitely be a good heavy-hitter, and certain armoured Pokémon made it really difficult to kill them without one, but still; the Desert Eagle mostly covered that. That was the main reason they were actually useful now, when they were more-or-less just flashy and unnecessary in human on human combat.
On top of that, Mikkelson was probably in far more of a rush than he was - Turnip was less than eager to get to the front line, even though that was where he could find Nicolas.
Wait a minute - Nicolas was on the front line. That could be seriously bad.
That bastard better stay alive.
Turnip's answers pretty much depended on that.
The jeep stopped, and the Private and General got out. This was Delta Camp, apparently.
The General muttered an order, "Private, I gotta set up the plan for defense of the City. Guard the command post here until reinforcements arrive, is that clear?"
Turnip considered whether "Hell no." Was an option, but of course it wasn't. He wasn't comfortable fighting in relatively large groups, and he was still a little pissed off about not getting that rifle. He wasn't really ready to fight anything yet - there was just something unsettling about the HR. Although, if he was honest about it, there was something unsettling about this whole damned place. Frankly, if he could get out of here, then all the better, but he didn't want the HR as well as all the Pokémon tribes on his ass. Making enemies was not really something he needed - at least the HR didn't seem intent on killing him, and for now that would do.
Unfortunately, there was nothing that could really be done about it. He guessed it would be fine, considering guarding is a defensive measure - that was decent justification, he supposed.
He didn't bother to hide how uncomfortable he was, "Yes sir."
From the looks of things, Delta camp wasn't the front line yet, but it wasn't far from it. A few soldiers were milling about, but Turnip wasn't one to get involved with them - instead he pulled his AK-47 from his back and headed North-ish, on the outskirts of woodland. He'd see any Pokémon coming, and if they were hostile, then he'd... deal with them.
As much as he wasn't sure of where the faults lie, he was fairly sure of his combat ability. That said, he wasn't sure he'd actually... tried it yet. That is to say, he didn't know if he'd actually fought anything. Something just told him he could trust in his own skill, wherever the hell it may or may not have come from... he repressed the headache he was getting. He'd have to find out about his own predicament soon, as well, but for now that could wait.
His head and his rifle snapped to the left as he heard rustling. His left hand reached for his belt, but there wasn't anything there to grab... what on Earth was the point of that...?
No time. From behind a tree, a Pokémon emerged, flying forwards.
Fearow. High attack and speed, poor special attack. Defences on the lower side. Leaning forwards. Territorial. Avoid beak and talons.
Turnip didn't stop to contemplate how he knew that. Three shots from his AK rang out, hitting the Fearow in the chest and forehead before it was halfway to Turnip's position. The private sidestepped as the bird's momentum carried it past him, and it crashed to the floor, dead.
Turnip felt sorry that he'd had to kill the Pokémon, but he didn't regret it. Whether it was wild or not, that Fearow had wanted to kill him with that Drill Peck - it wasn't his problem that the bird had forced him to shoot. Turnip was hardly going to let it run him through. Still, he decided to move towards the clearing a little more; he didn't want to antagonise any more territorial wilds, if that Fearow was indeed one, and he'd prefer to inform the other soldiers what had happened rather than have them get in a panic and abandon any posts they had.
At any rate, Turnip was sure now - he could count on his skill well enough. Wouldn't hurt to have a sniper rifle, though, bloody General...
Turnips shall rise.
Joined Apr 2012
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