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Art of War; The Art Of War
Topic Started: Jul 22 2014, 08:58 PM (189 Views)
LinaHaeden
Member Avatar
Queen Overlord


The Art Of War


Saturday, May 09, 2009
Miami-Dade County,
Florida G-Unit Warehouse Complex


A trio of large carrier helicopters swept across the summer sky in Miami, Florida. Painted in black with the G-Unit name in bright red lettering, the choppers flew in a tight column, circling a warehouse complex owned by the Gaebels’ just a few blocks from the city's famous port. After making a few quick passes, the helicopters each landed on a rooftop. As the rear bays opened, a flood of troops exited the helicopters, shuffling along down the warehouse stairs towards the center of the complex. There was a single man waiting at the bottom for them, leaning against a large truck that looked like it could have passed for an oversized tank. What could be described as push bumpers were in place on both the front and back of the vehicle. The front of both push bumpers was a 6 inch solid titanium slab that reached up at least a foot above the hood itself, covered from top to bottom in small, sharp triangular points. Behind the bumpers, there was enough space for a single person to fit. The cab and cargo container were both heavily reinforced, looking sturdy enough to take a hell of a beating. Leaning with his arms folded over his chest and his right leg planted against the side of the truck, a faceless soldier waited for the new arrivals.


A dirty cowboy hat was pulled low over his head, wreathing his face in shadow as the men approached. The rest of his attire was rather unremarkable for a soldier. Nothing but fatigues, boots, and a shit load of ammunition. An M4A2, heavily modified to his standards, sat on the step next to the soldier, resting against the cab. As the troops approached, the soldier turned his head up to look at them, revealing a cigarette hanging loosely out of his mouth. Unfolding his arms, he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and tossed it to the ground. His foot dropped onto the butt and snuffed it out on the asphalt. Grabbing his weapon with his left hand, Daniel Gaebel pulled off his hat with the other hand and put it down where the gun had stood.


"All right everybody. Form up." he stated to the men, his voice booming over the crowd with surprising volume. Daniel certainly wasn't the biggest soldier out there, but his voice held distinct authority as he spoke to the troops.


"Let's skip the introductions and get straight to business. I'm sure most of you know by now that we're preparing to go to war with The Eternal Knights. Part of preparing for war is figuring out what kind of military power you've got on your side to begin with. Another part of preparing is making sure that everyone on our payroll knows how to wage war, both as an individual and as a team. First thing's first, though. It's hot as hell out here, so we're all going to move into that" he gestured with a hand "warehouse. Everyone's going to receive a quick medical exam and a few other diagnostic tests. If you have any pre-existing conditions, be honest about them." he explained, starting to move towards the warehouse. "Once we're finished in here" he said, opening double-doors to reveal a pristine, sanitary warehouse covered from top to bottom in white plastic. "We're going to make our way to an adjacent warehouse for the combat training." As they entered, a vast staff of medical personnel descended upon them. Faceless medics in full scrubs split up to take on the crowd, each personally targeting a soldier to drag off for a medical exam. Fortunately, the exams would be quick. The combination of meta-human abilities and technology made it a simple affair to give the men a comprehensive report on their health in under 10 minutes. After the exams the medics would steal just a bit more of the soldier's time for a brief interview. Each soldier would be questioned on their meta-human abilities, if any, and asked general questions about their combative strengths and weaknesses. Basic questions to gather information on each man's speciality, more or less. At the close of the examination, each man was implanted with a black chip about the size of a dime. The chips, planted in the side of the neck a few inches below the ear, would make it possible for the soldiers to communicate with one another directly without any need for any radio equipment or headsets. They would also, perhaps unbeknownst to the soldiers, gather information on their actual metahuman abilities. They might have lied in the interview, but there would be no lying to the tiny microcomputer within their body. The chips could be refused, as the medics certainly weren't going to risk their lives to jam a chip in somebody's neck, but would otherwise be given to everyone. "Ugh" Dan grunted, stepping out of a medical room with a hand clamped over his neck. At the same time, nearly every other door opened to release the rest of the soldiers. "Everyone ready?" he asked, taking a clipboard from one of the staff. He looked over the sheet, skimming across the names and interview answers lazily.

-The interview-

"Full name and preferred name/alias?"

"Jason Jeremy Burden is my full name. My alias is Anthem...cause I officially name myself the war song who guides them fellows into battle."

"Uh-huh...next question."

"What metahuman or 'supernatural' abilities do you possess? Rate your abilities on a scale of 1 - 10 in sheer power. For example, a Telekinetic score of 1 might only be able to move small objects, like a glass of water or a fork. A 10 might move a goddamned mountain or something like that."

“Natural Strength ,6, Physical Resistance , 6, Lightning, 8, Molecular Conversion, 10, Magical Immunity, 10, Elemental Resistance, 7, Gas State, 8, Sex, 10…”

"Sex...sir?"

"I'm sexually needy. And they have to be relatively fresh...You smell nice."

"...Moving on."

"How would you rate your physical abilities? Do you know any martial arts or possess any other physical talents that can be handy in a war-time setting? Even something like sneaking is fine. We'll figure out a way to put it to good use."

"I can go through stuff so long as it won't destroy me...you know, like me not going through atomic material and crap. Fire...well I don't moleculize myself through that she-devil, it gets me into my lightning home-buggy and fly on through that. I'm strong...bearish...well no...ok I'm more wolf...no...ok I'm like half bear, half wolf, part bunny, par...."

"Sir...could just just tell us what you are good for? Nothing extensive?"

"Annoying people...and being where they don't want me flirting around with their home ladies."

"Thank you...for the brief summary."

"No Problem!"

"Do you have any medical conditions, natural or otherwise, that might be good to know about in the event that you're injured and need emergency care? Mono, a funky rash perhaps, or allergies?"

"Well...I require twenty somewhat-fresh bloods, at least seven of them virgin, for me to screw. I'm VERY hyper, and I need to discharge a certain bit before I'm ready to do anything outside of...well, screwing shit. Don't let me screw, and I'll probably end up screwing the first suitable thing. Just call the condition Blind Banging...well Blind Rage if you have to keep it all fucking professional."

"....Sir anything NORMALLY wrong with you?"

"Oh!...no, not really. Oh, I'm allergic to estrogen. It gets me hor..."

"OK! Next question"

"Good job."

"One last question. Do you have any objection to having a communication chip implanted into your neck to allow direct communication with your G-Unit comrades? It's minimally invasive, and it won't hurt, I promise."

"If it hurts at all, can I screw you?"

"I'm a guy...sir."

"But you look girly."

"No...I'm a g..."

"It must be the attire. It looks like boobs are on you..."

"Si..."

"Wait...if your estrogen is this high...that means your gay."

"SI..."

"You know...I'm only attracted to high estrogen levels. I am not a very discriminating pers...."

"YOUR DONE! Move on! Get your chip and away from me."

"Thank you, have a good day."

"Next!"

"See you later!"

"Wha!?!"

"Kidding, I prefer ladies. But you'll be one of them if the chip hurts."


Big Jack towered over all of the soldiers he was in line with by at least half a foot. The was waiting for his turn to talk to the medical examiners. He definitely stood out from the rest of the crowd as he stood there humming an AC/DC song to himself.

“Next!” yelled the medical inspector. Jack took a step into the medical room and looked down at the man, who looked up and stared at Jack’s chest. He then took his gaze down and looked at Jack’s scuffed black boots, then slowly took his eyes up his faded blue jeans, to the wife beater that covered his well muscled chest, then strained his neck to look up at Jack’s grinning bearded face.

“ Uh…Full name and preferred name/alias?”

“Jack Hunt, but my handle’s Big Jack.” The man blinked as he looked down at his clipboard and jotted it down, “Of course it is,” he muttered.


“So ‘Big Jack’, Do you have any Metahuman or supernatural abilities that we need know about?”

“Nah, I ain’t got any of them fancy flashy powers. What cha’ see is what cha’ get.”

“Well, that will make things easy.” he said as he wrote it down, “How would you rate your physical abilities? Do you know any martial arts or possess any other physical talents that can be handy in a war-time setting? Even something like sneaking is fine. We'll figure out a way to put it to good use."

“Well, I’m good in a fight. These muscles aren’t all for show ya’ know. Ain’t got no real training though. I’ve got a little training in heavy weapons. Had to have some way to protect some of my more illegal shipments.”

“What skills can you provide to assist the unit outside of battles?”

“I’m a truckdrivin’ son of a gun, boy.”

"Ooookay. And do you have any medical conditions, natural or otherwise, that might be good to know about in the event that you're injured and need emergency care?”

“I’m as healthy as a horse.”

“Last question. Do you have any objection to having a communication chip implanted into your neck to allow direct communication with your G-Unit comrades? It's minimally invasive, all you’ll feel is a little bee sting."

“Take more than a bee sting to take down ol’ Jack.”

Moments later the huge man stepped out of the room still grinning his giant grin, a small red mark in the side of his neck the only thing to indicate the chip had been implanted inside.



Flying was not so good on a drunken stomach. Drunken stomach period is not so good in any situation…. Lina Haeden held her flask to her chest staring at the deck plates upon the helicopter. She figured it was best to concentrate on something not in motion rather than watch the clouds and high standing buildings pass her by. She hadn’t a clue why she agreed on this. She had been drinking hours before the carnie ride, and just did as she was told, since she’d figured, soon, she would be complying to many orders thrown at her. Sooner than later the copter was landing. Overjoyed, she strapped her flask to her leg and jump to her feet. Probably a little sooner than she was ready, but a hand to the forehead, quick shake, and she was ready for action, for the most part. Several of the men she had ridden with rush off the helicopter. All of them which she hadn’t spoken a word to. If she had known any in the past, she figured they’d give her a greeting, good or not so great, either worked..

The mass of the crowd moved to a single man. He called everyone to attention, and Lina being as sarcastic as ever gave a half ass salute and fell into the formation of men. Thus far, she hadn’t noticed any other females, but then again, what woman went face first into a war now and days… So… The reason she was standing here today? Summoned by Gaebel the great, or the second.. or whatever. Not that she thought he was great by any means, but he knew of her. Daniel knew of Lina Haeden, so perhaps she could finally find out who she really was. Farside hadn’t told her anything but them being connected by some means. Lina let a loud sigh slide out of her without even thinking about it. The most she knew was she had some sort or huge power, and that she had been around for most the wars involving these people…. She was a vet to say the least. Lina was someone people could count on to get the job done and it was just simply that. And so the crowd of men moved on. Lina followed them, not really any clue what Gaebel had said to any of them. She was too busy wondering when she was going to get to have her first cancer stick, and to take another sip of her drink. Once they had entered a warehouse Lina inspected it with her own ocean colored eyes. Plastic everywhere, would be dangerous for a retard who could possibly run into it and suffocate himself. A female medic grabbed a hold of Lina’s arm, causing her to flinch, and drug her off to her own personalized space.


“Any medical conditions you’d like to share before we start the examination?”

“Um..” Lina blinked. “I don’t really know who I am…” The nurse before her blinked back at her.

“Bump on the head?”

Lina smiled. “I guess more a gash on the head, but I know what year it is and why I’m here, fair enough?”

“Fair enough… Name please?”

“Lina Haeden..” And so the process began, the poking and prodding and examining of her whole being. Finally the nurse froze.

“Miss Lina,..” She paused and started scribbling on her paper and board. “Do you have a genetic issue we need to address?” Lina only stared at her with a blank face. “As in.. Have you ever been injected with the genetic enhancer serum or implanted with a chip of some sort? It’s imperative we know…” Lina crossed her arms.

“Well lady, does it look like it.. because if you think I was joking before, I wasn’t. I don’t have a fucking clue who I am.. “ The nurse shook her head and scribbled some more notes down on her pad.

“Well it seems to me that you have been priory implanted.. as well as inject with Cypress’ Genetic enhancement serum...Your eyes have the strange glow that was reported as a strange side-effect... “ She paused and looked to Lina with brown eyes. “ It seems as though you were a part of a branch of Cypress in the past, and if that’s true, then we certainly need a fighter like you in this war.” Lina was at a loss for words. She just gave a nod and looked to the floor. Apparently she was becoming more critical to this war then she had first thought. It wasn’t long before she was directed to another whitened area where everyone stood in a line to be interview. Lina’s didn’t’ go long since she knew nothing of herself. Shortly after being rather frustrated the medic, he sent her to be implanted. Lina’s medic had informed her to tell the doctor doing the implant to put the chip under her left ear instead of right since she had already been implanted by Cypress in the past. She did so, and not that it felt comfortable in the least but Lina gave a same flinch and moved forward for the next to follow after her.


Jason Forte’s step was pronounced, as he entered the area in which a former acquaintance had spoken. He looked around at the crowd of people, trying to pick out anyone he knew. Unfortunately, all but Daniel were new to him. He sighed as the 'leader' finished speaking to the group. It must've been the heat, but for some reason he felt as if he was expanding. His metal body took in heat like no other. Jason Forte shut his eyes. Anyone who was attentive would realize that his body tightened around him as he did so. Furthermore, one could jump to the conclusion that it had something to do with his ability. Funny, they'd end up knowing anyways. Fortenbras walked into the warehouse and was met with a group of men and women in white suits. It was quite a sight as each member walked towards one of the medics. How ironic that the one that was left for him looked as crazy as his father, if not more. hmph.

"Full name and preferred name/alias?"

"Jason Forte. Though I prefer Fortenbras."

"Alright, Mr. Forte. What metahuman or 'supernatural' abilities do you possess? Rate your abilities on a scale of 1 - 10 in sheer power. For example, a Telekinetic score of 1 might only be able to move small objects, like a glass of water or a fork. A 10 might move a goddamned mountain or something like that." He felt a twinge of irritation when he was referred to as 'Mr. Forte'.

"I said I prefer Fortenbras. I am a metallurgist. I'd give myself about a 7 in sheer power. I can manipulate metal, but distance becomes a problem. Also many things play into factor. Metals that are the same as that of my body are easier to manipulate, whereas metals such as titanium and adamantium are quite difficult for me to manipulate, depending on the distance."

"I apologize...Fortenbras. What physical skills do you have, in regards to a war time setting? That way we know where we can use you best."

"I am fully capable in close and mid range attacks, and I make up for my long range with a custom .454 Casull. It also holds custom rounds. I call it the Phobos Gun. It has selective shooting; full, semi, burst, and single fire. For a person with...regular skin, anything other than single and burst would be dangerous, as the gun would become very hot and would burn the skin. As you can see, that is not a problem for me. The bullets can leave a small crater on impact. Within the bullet there are two gases that are separated by a lead barrier. On impact, the lead barrier breaks, mixing the two gases, causing a small explosion, scattering little shrapnel within the body. The tip of the bullet is pointed and rugged, as to allow it to enter the body with ease, and yet allowing it to hold once within the body. The resultant inertia is what causes the lead barrier to break. Quite effective."

“Amazing. Fortenbras, could you provide a summary of your ability to help the unit outside of battles?”

"I was once a leader of a group known as The New Breed. Much of what we did was in secret, and thus I am able to 'gather' information when needed. I can also help the unit get from point A to point B without outside interruption, using certain methods. As I have said, I can manipulate metal, and so can mend and bend any sort of armor, barrier, etc."

"I see. And do you have any medical conditions, natural or otherwise, that might be good to know about in the event that you're injured and need emergency care? Mono, a funky rash perhaps, or allergies?"

"Yes. I was once a normal man like yourself. There are parasitic cells in me that eat at everything organic within my body. My heart and brain are protected by a sort of adamantium shield. I do not know how it works, but also the evil being that did this to me also put something within me that allows my heart and brain to coincide with the rest of my artificial body. That same something is what allows me to manipulate metal."

"I wonder...” The insane looking medic stared at him in interest. Jason Forte tilted his head in curiosity. The man in white shrugged and wrote something on his clipboard. "One last question. Do you have any objection to having a communication chip implanted into your neck to allow direct communication with your G-Unit comrades? It's minimally invasive, and it won't hurt, I promise." He cracked a smile at the question. At any point in time, that communication chip could be destroyed and extracted from his body. He did not care.

"Sure, why not." His hands clenched into fists as he turned around and a small opening appeared at the back of his neck. "Hurry up, this feels weird." As soon as the medic inserted the chip, the metal skin folded back into place, as if nothing had happened. Excellent. Jason sat down and watched as the rest finished up, listening attentively to his fellow members, as they told the man in white all they knew of themselves. Before you can know your enemies, know your friends.


“Everyone ready?”

Dan had never doubted that he and his brother had brought together a strange group of men, but wow. He looked back down to the page, matching the faces up to the names. He already recognized Jason, but the other two who spoke up were a bit of a mystery to him. Scanning the clipboard, he quickly and quietly acquainted himself with them. He skimmed across the information gathered from their comm. chips and was somewhat impressed. They were a strange bunch, but he couldn't deny their potential. Soon, they would be ready to take on The Eternal Knights. No, not take them on. Crush them. Striding forwards, he dropped his arms back to his sides, carrying his gun in one hand and the clipboard in the other. Moving quickly, he cut through a gap in the soldiers and head out of the warehouse. Stepping out into the bright Miami sun again, Dan shielded his eyes with his clipboard, looking across to the next warehouse as he waited for the men to follow.

"We're going to be heading to that building to train, so if you'll follow me" he directed them, his hand coming down smoothly from his face to point to a warehouse perhaps 50 yards away. As they entered the warehouse, it seemed to come to life, bright lights flickering on to reveal their training grounds. The warehouse was a vast training complex, split into sections to focus on various aspects of fitness and combat. In the distance near the back of the warehouse was a giant metal gate that stretched nearly halfway to the ceiling, which itself appeared to be quite the distance.


The area just ahead of them was occupied by a thick blue mat. On it's nearest edge was a diverse array of weapons. "We're going to be sparring for the first part of our pre-war training session. We'll start with the basics, but I want to cover a variety of situations with you to train you for the kind of things we're likely to face. Then there are some things we need to practice, like fighting multiple opponents, fighting more efficiently, and some basic team combat strategy. Everyone needs to split into pairs first though. For the first exercise we're just going to work on simple one on one combat. Right now, don't use your metahuman abilities, just focus on the physical aspect of combat. One person is going to play the role of attacker, the other gets to defend. Then we'll pick apart the mechanics and figure out how each of us can fight more efficiently. If we're going to win against TEK, we can't afford to be weak. Each of us needs to pull substantial weight, because we will be fighting a larger, more organized military force. We can win, but each member of the team needs to keep in sync with the group or we'll get blown out. The keys to our strength, then, must be brutal efficiency and flawless teamwork. Now, form up and let's get started" Daniel commanded, stepping across the mat toward the far end. Waiting, he folded his arms over his chest, watching the men split into pairs and begin.




Lina lit up a cigarette after all that, smirked, and gave a sharp nod. She was ready for anything at this point. Lina followed the men as the waltzed outside. As Gaebel had done, she followed in shading her eyes from the sun. She was rather sensitive to it. Not that it was any better in the small warehouse arena they had set up. The bright lights made her squint quite a bit. It forced her to shove her shades upon her face before looking back to Gaebel to listen to his next instruction. One thing that caught Lina’s interest was the weapons. Was she really going to need those? Eh.. they could always help. Besides she always seemed to have an interest in human’s weapons, or at least that she could recall vaguely. Lina crossed her arms, pair up? Unlikely a man would want to spar with her. She just stood there, looking to each man to see who paired with who, and really who would walk to her. She let out a sigh, hopefully she wasn’t too rusty in her hand to hand. The last time she went hand to hand… Well.. she couldn’t recall. Nonetheless… Someone need to be her partner, and the little redhead waited for it to happen.

Once again Daniel spoke, this time telling the group to move on to the next warehouse for combat training. Good. That was essential. Forte needed to know how capable the rest of his fellow G's were when it came to combat. It would allow Fortenbras to gauge where he was at, and give him the opportunity to learn their weaknesses so that he can compensate for it. He stood up letting out a small groan. He was feeling rusty...Figuratively speaking. It was time for him to get a little bit of work out. He set stride, following the group to the other warehouse. This should be fun.

Jason followed, as with the rest of the group, to the warehouse and to the metal door and to the blue mat with pretty shiny things that poked people to death. Dan then commanded, a slew of words escaping his slender mouth, walking to the far end of the mat. Taking action right away, as soon as Dan made his way to where he was present now, Jason quickly walked to the middle of the blue blob of awesome softness and turned towards the group behind him.

"Whoever wants to bring down the house with me defending like a frail little girl who got her lunchbox stolen by a bully say HOO AH!" He didn't know who to partner with, to be exact. Because of this, Jason figured whomever thought it perfectly fine to just step on forward would be his partner. He was not into the "choosing the closest person" or "choosing the person you know" or any of the other jazz that tends to screw around with bolts and gears in the head. Pumping his arms up and down, with slight bending in the knees to go with the rhythm he was currently possessed with, Jason closed his eyes and opened his mouth showing the very emotion of I'm-having-a-good-fucking-time.

"Who's ready to pounce and bounce, Who's gonna come up and get in a good few rounds, Who's craving for my seductive beat, Who will just run up and try to kick the crap outta me!", Jason sang and sang and sang.

“Tch…” Lina let it slip from her lips. She was only standing a few feet from him and his overly animated attitude. She didn’t take too kindly to his ‘little girl’ comment. Without knowing it she had crossed her arms and rolled her eyes promiscuously. She wasn’t going to give a ‘Hoo ah’, let alone play along with his game. She was here for some reason or another, but the main reason she was here was to fight. Part of her thought that a little bump on the head would jog some memory, and for some reason , she loved the carnage of war. She was here to pound some heads in. That’s exactly what she had intended to do. Why not test her hidden skills on this one standing so confidently before her. Lina whipped her long cherry red pony-tail to the side and headed forward, knocking his arm as she walked past him. It’s not that she was just picking on him, she would have done the same thing to any male here who would have stepped forward and half ass asked for a partner. She headed to what seemed to be the ‘center of the ring’, tilting her head from side to side and having a nice pop come as a result.

“Well let’s go Flash.. I’d rather get this trivial shit done and over with so we can move on to the war already..” She glanced over at him with ocean blues whilst taking one last drag from her cigarette and flicking it off to the side somewhere. While Lina appeared to be small and frail, she had been informed by several that she had some hidden power within her. If it wasn’t for the bump on her head, this fight might go a little swifter than first expected. She was basically starting from scratch; perhaps, it could be compared to learning to walk again. She had done some sparring with who she was told were old friends. She had some skill in her sorcery. The way she mixed and flung around spells was something promising. There has been things that had kept her interest since she had returned to this world.. Farside said the two of them share a certain power, a power of the gods, a power that could destroy a god. What exactly it was, she hadn’t a clue. Sounded powerful though. She was hoping this war would bring that power out.

“Been a while since I fought a man of your stature love, so forgive me if I scratch and pull your hair..”She let off a sexy smirk as she spouted out her sarcasm. It was time to see what power she really had brewing within her.

The sound that escaped from the female rocketed Jason into the state that we called sexual bliss. See, if it was not for this sound Jason would never animate so profoundly, so provocatively. See because of her being in the very area of Jason, he was already having a hard time controlling himself. That one sound, that one sound, caused the events that now followed. He stepped forward, did his ritual, and low-and-behold she came a pouncing to the bait. Knock on the elbow with Jason's smirking like a hungry dog, then out of this females mouth came the following words. Flick a stick there, firm a eye or two right here, and Jason was set. Course, his over excitement would need to be controlled...somehow. Indeed, his comments did match fairly well with the general figure of the female herself, so defending was the greatest perk of all. Take control as the defender, touch a prize or two along the way. No harm done. Jason chuckled to the thought.

Smirk, oh the smirk. Jason, oh how he loved that smirk. Not only did the smirk stiff him
so, but the fact that she called him love made Jason quite, quite merry.

"Dear I should correct you on one thing, I am no man. And the least,all your scratching and pulling will do is make me want you even more." Seductively, somewhat greasy, yet to the point. Before she attacked, by all means D.Gaebal should bear her warning to Jason's natural tendencies. Unlike men, unlike true humans, he held no means of constraint. Bear witness to my favorite word little frail girl. That word is...Boobies.

"I'd watch that ass if I were you, Lina. Jason here's a hardcore rapist." Daniel joked, though his deadpan delivery could have fooled her. In actuality, Dan would probably need to remind Jason not to actually grope her in a few moments once the fighting started. “Jason, watch those hands off, she’ll keep them as souvenirs, she’s a nasty one.” That comment made both Jason and Lina quirk their brows in Dan’s direction. What kind of woman was she exactly? Dan made her sound crazy, that couldn’t be right...

"I'd like you to begin sparring once you and your partner are ready. We'll give straight hand to hand combat a go for a few quick rounds, then move onto weapons and whatnot. I want to stress the importance of using a plethora of different types of attacks to keep your enemy off guard. Don't just throw strikes all the time, grapples are sometimes more effective. When you limit yourself to one offensive approach, you make it much easier for your opponent to cripple and crush you. Once they read your pattern, you're finished. Try to diversify your hand to hand techniques, because when the day comes that you're disarmed, you're going to need them." he explained, walking slowly along the edge of the mat as he watched the soldiers line up to fight. There was a lot of talent to be seen in the room, and Daniel couldn't keep his eyes on any one pair. Every now and then he would shout encouragement, observing their bouts with a degree of pride.

"Alright, I can't take it." Jason spent a great dealing waiting, a monstrous time of five seconds before he could bear it no more. Though he did say he'd do all the blocking, her just standing there doing her thing was just too much to bear. Starting simple, he stepped forward till he was near enough to throw hits from all four limbs on his body then proceeded with his first attack: The big smile. This was followed by a stance: The two-hand cat lift. The two-hand cat lift was where you put both your hands up and your fingers bent like a cat ready for the pounce, with knees slightly bent and mouth slightly opened with tongue slightly at the end of your lips.

Lina had been paying full attention to Dan’s instruction when she looked over to see Jason in his fighting stance. Her brows dropped, and the look in her eyes said she couldn’t believe he was serious.

"KKKKKKKKKKAAAAA~" was the sound, the third attack, escaping the lips and off he went, this Jason of a thing. Right hand went to palm into the left hip while the left hand went to palm the right shoulder. The left elbow was bent, allowing his forearm to block attacks going at his left side. The right side of his torso was open for a knee kick or whatever other kick could come in as well as punches but his right elbow was also tucked enough to block attacks. His left leg stepped in with the attack, towards the middle, while the right hip swung his body forward. His right foot pushed towards Lina, allowing his left foot to slide and land between Lina's feet, still not totally into her space. The right foot was pulled as he went forward, allowing him to keep the stance he pushed with when he landed. Once landed, the attacks would land, so it would be best to counter between the time of his landings. If the attacks landed, he would be push once again with right foot, head butting into her chest. This would then allow his left foot to push even further, knocking her to her back with Jason on top. From here, Jujitsu or any other ground form of martial arts would be allowed to flourish. Throughout the entire process, he would change his initial sound he started the attack with to something much more wordy.

"Boobies Boobies Boobies Boobies Boobies Boobies~" and so on and so on and so on.

There wasn’t much Lina could do in the event of Jason’s sudden crazy breaking out. First off, he broke rule number one, never lay your hands on a woman, though it wasn’t anything more than forceful, he was playing nice for some reason. By the time she brought her knee up to his torso, his cranium was smashing into her breast bone. The two of them fell to the ground and Lina landed with a thud. She wanted to be pissed for the cheap shot, until she looked down and saw Jason having himself a good ol’ time. She busted into laughter and then suddenly the two found themselves wrestling on the ground like two horney little teenagers. This was Jason’s plan, this was not Dan’s plan, Lina just went with the flow of things.

"Where the hell is Lebe!” Dan spun on his heels and pointed to another spar that was happening aside from Jason and Lina. “Come on guys, this is a fist fight, not a god damned freakshow."

Dan could give Jason and Lina a little alone time now that their anthem bearer was merely aiming to molest. Best to let him off the leash a bit before reining him in to prevent Lina from being sexually scarred for life. As an afterthought, he added "And that applies to you too, Jason!" just to remind him that he was in fact still being watched.

Jason’s head popped up from Lina’s chest, and Lina looked over to Dan with a smirk. In the crowd of ruffian’s, they probably looked like the two puppies of the crew. It was fine, Lina had a mean bite apparently. Jason stood up and held a hand out to Lina. She just sat up and rested an arm on her propped knee. “Who are those guys over there? They seem to be taking this seriously.”

Jason slapped her hand off her knee and yanked her to her feet. “That’s DeBurnay, the silver haired one… Not anyone I’d easily pick a fight with. Someone like him takes planning…”

Lina looked back to Jason. “I see…” That man looked eerily familiar…

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LinaHaeden
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Queen Overlord
A new dawn.

A bold intellectual made his way onto the scene, he grinned at the events happening shaping before him. This male, tall, lean, dark, [but not too dark] and handsome stood at about 5'9”. His broad shoulders had a way of beckoning females to his low frame. Brown eyes shaded in auburn skin gave a scan to the walls around him. He was sitting in the chopper. And it chopped and swayed in the air. DeBurnay swallowed on his truest saliva. He had just begun to accommodate himself with motion sickness. His insides twisted.

“Man, I need a cig.” He clawed at his stomach and twisted his face to catch a glimpse of a co-officer whipping a semi-fresh pack a cancer sticks.

“Hey, can I get one?” DeBurnay said in unison with the soldier sitting next to him. The soldier looked up. “Sorry, I only got one left.” DeBurnay darted his eyes at the guy next to him dispatching a look of 'back the fuck off,'then directed his attention pack to the cigarettes. “Hey bro, can I get one.” De' inquired.

“Yup.” He said tossing one to the youth. Good lookin', he replied, patting his combat jeans down trying to find a lighter right before the guy flung one, smacking him in his face. He mouthed a two-word silent prayer of thankfulness before ushering a puff letting the unholy smoke drift in his shafts.

“Ay, you're that new guy right? From....Jamaica!” De' gave a simple nod, nipping another toke.

“Yeah, I hear you're light-weigh good.” He spat.

“Light...weigh...?” DeBurnay said ghostly, glancing up at the individual. “I'm the best damn thing that's ever happened to dis' squadron.”

“Heh, cocky runt. I was like that at your age to.” The other cat said, guessing he was in his early twenties. “Though I was just a little more respectful. Hoha!!! We'll see ya skills soon enough.” He said, De' replying in another nod.

“Yo kid, you can't smoke now!” A medic said catching De' in the act but not the other gentleman.

“Uhhm..I got problems.” He lied. The medic shook his head in disbelief of irresponsibility, but lacking authority minded his business. Honestly, DeBurnay wasn't officially signed to this group, he had intentions, though hammering someone on the head and stealing their militia identity he admitted, was taking it a little too far. Yet he felt it was his destiny; in some ways to be here. They arrived onto the heliport, De' blending in the crowd swam on foot towards the complex. Stuck in the center ranks, De' eyed the truck that stood before them. He tried to avoid eye-contact with the soldier bearing a cowboy hat.

"All right everybody. Form up." The silent soldier, followed his peers movements timidly, failing not to stick out. "Let's skip the introductions and get straight to business. I'm sure most of you know by now that we're preparing to go to war with The Eternal Knights. Part of preparing for war is figuring out what kind of military power you've got on your side to begin with. Another part of preparing is making sure that everyone on our payroll knows how to wage war, both as an individual and as a team. First thing's first, though. It's hot as hell out here, so we're all going to move into that" he gestured with a hand "warehouse. Everyone's going to receive a quick medical exam and a few other diagnostic tests. If you have any pre-existing conditions, be honest about them."

The Eternal Knights? 'Oh shit.' he thought to himself. He flushed the thought of fear down to a minimum, and continued with orders heading to the warehouse as a unit. De's pupils instinctively acted as spotlights for any possible female medics in the vicinity. Confidence flowing, he approached one handing over ten minutes to assess himself. Most of his answers were passes on the low, not being overly amorous, but he lacked real experience prior to this. The medic reviewed his sheet before continuing with the interview.

“Identity?”

“DeBurnay....” he thought hard, he didn't have a last name, just his initial one that would serve as an alias.

“De...DeBurnay Savior Dyers.” He said lying. “Condition: exceptionally well. Abilities: none. Combat skills...?”

“Uhm, well. I'm a profound boxer, I have an incredible knack for reading and anticipating movements. I was a 9th degree black belt in tae-kwon-do when I was in Denver awhile back. Aside from that I have been indoctrinated in various martial arts since...2? And focus heavily on kick-boxing for my daily conditioning.”

“Good, well you head-on you could be a sitting duck with your lack of abilities. But you're physique is that of an Olympian, so if you follow orders you may even be expendable.” She used sarcasm, probably out of irritation from De's tired pick-up lines. He winked at her after the last line, she scoffed and dragged him to place the chip. De' was unnaturally pain tolerant. He gave his neck a slight crack before giving the her one last look up and down. She mouthed a few words at him, more than likely chanting a death curse upon his mulatto ass. Brushing negativity off his shoulder, De' scanned the area for the soldiers who appeared the weakest, partially to make himself feel superior, partially to have an idea who would be most vulnerable. He smirked and chuckled, wrapping himself with stockings of ammunition. Everyone seemed elite, De' fit right in according to his mind. Not being one to just sit there and watch, he immediately got himself involved, practicing some jujitsu grapples on the more sheepish of the groups. Rigorously, he smacked the back of necks, coiled forearms around throats, and practiced severing the flow of blood by use of pressure points. It seemed like eternity as he finally dropped to his knees with the output he put into it. And just when it looked like he was going to have some kind of medical attack, he sprung up.

“Alright good warm-up, ya'll.” He said, before switching gears in his head to direct his attention to the spar brewing between a man and female. DeBurnay doubled over in laughter at the announcement of the man's favorite word.

“Right on, I'd say that word's in my top...eh 5.” De' grimaced. “Best keep to your toes mate, less you want to chance losing those locks of yours she says.” He said in his best English accent. He felt his composure regained, and debated on taking a swing at the guy preaching battle tactics, just to show off. He yelped over to the pair. “Ayy' lemmie' get 5 minutes with the winner when you two are done.” He said, with a nod towards Lina. Resuming a few more hand-to-hand runs he felt his feet pick themselves up and swat, one of the faceless bodies in the earlobe, using just enough force to stun and leave him oblivious to a swift grapple followed by a chain of them. “I'm feelin' enthused. yo,”

Lina took a few steps from Jason and nodded over to De. “Oh he looks fun.”

Jason threw his arms up and jumped in front of Lina’s line of view. “Hey now, this dance is mine right now little lady!”

Lina placed her hand on her hip and sighed a bit annoyed. The sooner she beat Jason, the sooner she could have a slice of that light chocolate. She liked accents, something about them…


The ride was a bit unusual. Lebe wasn’t used to flying, especially in the company of strangers. “Mortals… and misfits” he snickered. Time passed as words were passed around the cabin, most of which related to cigarettes or motion sickness. Lebe however, wasn’t interested in either. In fact, the only thing to catch his bloodshot, rotting gaze was a young girl (Lina). There had better be more where that came from… Since Lebe arrived on the scene, he’d been drinking from a tin can of Pennzoil containing ungodly amounts of ethanol and cyanide. When the chopper finally set down, his drink was gone. Exquisite. He discarded the empty can under his seat like a piece of used gum and piled out the bird with everyone else. Outside, the sun was beaming down like a laser so the change in temperature was perceived immediately, but with little consequence.

“I absolutely HATE the sun…”

In the presence of direct sunlight Lebe’s features seemed filmy and dead. His skin was like brown tracing paper, eyes dark like two black olives. Still, he was pretty in the face, pretty but shallow. Lebe wasn’t really interested in protocol, going through a formal examination and all that jazz, but hey. When the lab coats came swarming in, he got bombarded like everyone else.

“Name?”
“Lebe”

“Ah, Lebe.. Are you, feeling alright? You look a little pale.” Lebe shrugged and made a flippant motion toward the sky.

“Indeed, it’s the sun, I’m fine.”

“Stellar, and then what areas, Mr. Lebe, do in you excel in as they relate to the Unit?” Lebe bit his bottom lip, hesitating for a moment.

“I eat people.” The medic made a scrunchy face before taking down some notes. Just when Lebe thought he was done writing, the man made additional markings. Shaking his head, the medic stammered through his next question.

“That’s-“

“Splendid?”

“G-g-gross, actually. Um... okay. Can I assume you’re of a vampiric race then?”

“A leech? Not I. I believe the preferred vernacular is ghoul.”

“Just a few more questions Mr. Lebe then we’ll conclude.” Seeing as the others were starting to spar without him, Lebe turned toward the combat area and walked off.

"No. We’ve concluded.” A few steps later he turned back to the medic for one last comment.

“Also, I like spells. Write that down.”


Idle standing DeBurnay released a chuckle as he watched his new-found team-mate dance around, as if it was choreographed. He wanted some action too. But there seemingly was no one around. Eyes rounding on the nearest target that looked bored as he did, De' narrowed them down to a few, but they all seemed to be in a daze. Stage-fright most likely. He figured. It was never easy to make a show and be original about it. A new-comer arrived. This one, like De' probably had no trouble scoring when he needed to, and just relied on looks to breeze into open legs. He had the oddest name, and looked a tad pale. He also ate...people? What an individual, De' thought. He was not 100% sure on g-unit's policy, but chances were, if this apparent ghoul needed sustenance; then there would be no scuffles in aiding him. De' paced over to this new arrival and offered out a kind gestured hand. He intended him to shake it of course. Yet most would probably not advise seeking out a friendship with the living dead (if that's what he was), De' personally could care less about appearance, or background. He was only interested in personality, and if theirs was likable, he would pursue a friendship with them.

"Ay, whats poppin'?" he asked in calm tone.

Lebe cocked his head to the side in an unnatural, painful-looking manner. While watching De’ approach he prepared something clever to say. But, instead of jawing out something witty, Lebe was greeted with an open hand. Lame.

“Popping?" Lebe accepted the man’s offer and shook his hand. He smiled a little but it didn’t last. Returning his head to a more normal, straight up position, he asked, “Is there something in particular I can help you with?”

"So you eat people huh? Well that's always fun I s'pose. I personally have a tendency to torture those I dislike from time to time." he said sharply.

Lebe crossed his arms over his chest like a bored celebrity. “I most certainly do..”

"But you know how that is, we ALL have those kinds of thoughts from time to time." the young man said it as if it were the human nature to kill. And yet, his interest, like most self-acclaimed elites, was finding a good fight. And this guy quite possibly had an answer for his hunt.

“Truthfully.”

Cracking his knuckles, and tilting his head back De’ said,

"So how about a go? Bossman tells us to warm-up spar a little, so lets have some fun?" he said slyly.

Soon as De’ started cracking his knuckles, Lebe was compelled to act. “Quiet, fool!” Lebe spat in De’s face before De’ could finish talking. But instead of saliva, a thick mist of dust and rotting flesh spurt out of Lebe’s open mouth like someone had soccer-kicked a pile of sand in a sandbox. Hopefully the dirt would connect with De’s face and disorient him. Any direct contact with one’s eyes should cause a burning sensation and some temporary discomfort. What’s more, the mist absolutely reeked of dead flesh, the most horrendous stench imaginable. Aiming to please, Lebe followed up with a big right hook, swinging his fist at the side of De’s head. In reality, Lebe wasn’t in the mood to do fisticuffs-for-the-sake-of-training. Still, it’d be foolish to seem coy around the boys, plus, that cyanide-cocktail, his version of booze, was bound to take hold sooner or later.

It should of been hard to interact with someone who exhibited such an unpleasant tone, and disrespectful characteristics. But De' didn't mind the sort of thing. You'd meet a-holes all throughout your life. And whether it was their arrogant attitudes, or zombie like personalities that created this perspective; they were still there. In the dynamic second he had taken to crack his fists, had the young brawler been prepared for a strike. Already partially agitated, and bored from the lack of surreal challengers. De' greeted this man's unlikely gesture with a right straight, disrupting the wave of dust, before he could let any of his chopped human kibbles and bits fly. That did not quell the smell however. He spun his hands around in a rotation and drew them back to a laid back boxing position. It was then that he realized his right hand had some disturbing chunk stuck to it. That stench...my god, that stench... Played in his head a few times.


Suddenly all previous estimations of this guy's sex life went to the sewers. He doubted any female could stand such a carnivorous individual. The hook was plain, and obvious. It also left him open for a pummeling, as Dey's own calculative eyes began to feast on the levels of ill-mannered defense he could find. Getting too close probably meant entering another spit session. What a freak. Left hand leaving it's guard at his chin. He leaned forward and used this hand to easily swipe the swing down. Then pulling up with his momentum, De' threw the back of his right hand outwards, and flipped it so the recently cracked knuckle was aimed for pure jaw, while flinging back the piece of flesh he had gifted De' with in the flick of his wrist. Following this, he bounced on the balls of his feet, and made his own more timely left hook, at the exact same jaw; on the right side this time. Finally, acting on impulse, he shifted his hips faster than the gears in his brain could work. The right jabbing hand, pulled back and rocketed up, in one swift motion for a blurry uppercut. Still working on the very same target. He aimed carefully, so that sand teeth, wouldn't have a chance to blind him with the rotting decay.

What the cannibal did not realize before acting so brashly. Was that De' was in fact an Olympian boxer and athlete. His physique was unmatched, and his guard was never less. Making such a cowardly advance, not only shamed De' but every challenger he had k.o.'d in the past. Disgraceful. He took, one step back, and hopped to the side. Shaking his left hand noticeably. It was a fighting trick to distract his opponent. But mainly he flicked it back and forth out of the pain he had achieved while blocking the hook. DeBurnay could guesstimate the myth about vampire super-strength was in fact just a myth.






Grinding his teeth, Lebe took a hard shot to the chin. He saw it coming but did nothing. Instinct dictated that he evade only when under extreme duress. Beside, defense, however basic, was never his game. De’s initial punch managed to chip off a nugget of dried skin, hair follicles and maggots, yes maggots! Lebe’s skin was naturally ablative but the humidity made it worse. Easily aroused, he jawed out a quick insult.

“Pathetic!” Seemingly unharmed, Lebe didn’t miss a beat. He fought on pure emotion; the technical side of hand-to-hand combat ceded to impulse. Fueled by delusions and grandeur, and an intensely keen awareness of his individual capacities, he welcomed the onslaught. Show me something good… Smack! Lebe met De’s left hook with a left hook of his own! Their knuckles collided head on. The force of the blow fractured one of Lebe’s knuckles, leaving a nice gash along his ring-finger. His bones were brittle, weaker than the living’s. As for the myth about vampire super-strength, it didn’t apply. Ghouls weren’t any stronger than humans. Unfortunately for De’, they didn’t feel pain either. Wasting no time, Lebe looked to strike. Unnaturally quick, his movements were stiff and jerky. The more aggressive he got, the less fluid he was. Jolting back, he moved to the left, narrowly avoiding the uppercut. Lebe wanted to take control of De’s back, get him to the ground and start unloading. Hunched over and positioned just to the right of De’s body, he lurched forward and attempted to football tackle him. Lebe’s body lashed out like it’d been spring-loaded, arms wide. Worst case scenario he took a knee to the face, but De’ was still going down. If he managed to get De’ to the ground, he’d immediately send a flurry of hammer fists raining down on the poor sap’s head. If not, he’d bite the closest body part available, and it wouldn’t be pretty. The dime-sized piece of undead matter De’ removed from Lebe during their initial exchange, along with everything else brown and fleshly that Lebe’s excreted up until this point, started floating. Like moths orbiting a bright streetlamp, the awful blend of ooze and fly larva started oscillating both De’ and Lebe.

Lebe certainly wasn’t a boxer, but a willingness to rely on his special abilities would guarantee him victory. He didn’t mind looking like cheater, he just wanted to win. It’d take time for the whole team mentality to set in…

He was curious in the way this man eating beast, had taken his punch. He clenched his mouth shut. If Lebe was a normal person, he'd have lost some teeth by now, the best way to take a punch was to open and close your mouth slowly. De' knew this, he also knew he had the power to one-hit-wonder a grown man into a coma. What he was not aware of his ability to tear off a mans face as he was greeted with live flesh eating maggots. De's eyes widened impulsively. He had never encountered such a display of gore, he was use to blood spurting out, not accursed insects of the earth. He honestly wanted to scream, but the thought of a grown man screaming in the middle of typical testosterone infested group of men kept him from doing so. This man was obnoxiously appalling, sending an insult directly at De'. He almost wanted to back down, part of him afraid that if he delved deeper into this guy's repugnant anatomy, he would be greeted by a tiny little alien pressing buttons in a metal seat or some shit. But something tingled in him while facing this man, while facing death. He finally deducted this man was not of the living as their knuckles colliding, sending a surging pain along the face of his fist, and in the back of his elbow. DeBurnay could hear a crack vibrate through his forearm, and hoped that this heinous scourge did not break something.

“What the fuck are you!!?” He said as he angrily leaned into an uppercut, that was gracefully side-stepped. Part of him was glad that he did not have to deal with more maggots, but his fears were achieved as the despicable dullard launched himself at De' as if he was two feet from a touchdown.

“No, aw hell no, get the fuck back!!” He exclaimed, thrusting a knee into his disgusting, rotten, odious, repulsive, lowdown, maggot filled face.

“Gah!” He uttered as Lebe rammed him into the ground, De' brought his other foot up adjacently curved with his already knee raised one. Paying tribute to Disney literature, he sprung both feet upwards, to fling this rotting bone sack back into the dirt he came from. All the while, Lebe's flesh began to uninterruptedly swing back and forth at the pair. Seeing this, he instantaneously made attempts to rise to his feet. If Lebe somehow managed to cling and mount onto him, he would instinctively react with priceless hand-to-hand combat experience. De' would regrettably wrap his legs around the scourge in defense, send a vicious punch at his groin in fury, then pull his forearm towards him, at the same time wrap his right foot around the villain's, so that he would not be able to pivot his body, then throw his hips up while rolling atop of him, all in Jujitsu styled movement. In succeeding to dis this, he would them effortless pummel every inch of his head with his own series of much stronger, forceful jabs. He was more angered by the fact that his sweat was probably fused with rotting mucus by now, but was too revengeful to halt his endeavor of paying the wretch back in spades. DeBurnay formidably less enthused of fighting a man eating zombie now that maggots were oozing along his temples.

“Imma be taking a cold shower after this...”

As expected, Lebe caught a knee to the nose. Instead of just smashing the cartilage into mush, like in a normal nose job, his nostrils flared. Tearing loose from his face, his nose literally broke off like Michael Jackson’s surgeon forgot to apply the glue! Gross huh? Just then, a big fat centipede crawl-fell out of the wound and onto De’s body, exploring the man’s shirt. Though, as a spectator you’d need eagle eyes to notice something like that. De’ on the other hand probably got a little itch with his pain. Having tackled De’ to the ground, Lebe was poised to unload on the man. The hammer fists came down like thunder but before he could connect De’ managed to kick-push Lebe out of position. Forcing Lebe up and back, he came to his feet like someone had puppeteered him into an upright stance. About a foot away from De’s prone body, Lebe, in a moment of extreme hubris, took a few steps back.

“Stay down…” Lebe ripped off his shirt like Hulk Hogan in his prime. It was enough to make the girls blush and the guys jealous; at least, it would’ve been if someone alive had done it. Like everything else, Lebe just made it look gross. His wounds? They were still dripping; they still stunk like sun-baked road-kill. It might have been interpreted as a banal move, corny even, until he supplied De’ with an encore. More specifically, he sprouted two additional arms, forming just beneath his rib cage, both sides of his body. The process was relatively quick, but slow enough to be impeded by anyone willing to shit on Lebe’s parade. Cut the circus act short and De’ would have to answer for stealing the spotlight. Allow him to mutate and… barf? The visual associated with producing a second set of pipes was, in a word, horrific. Maggots. Decay. Bones. You get the picture. Jacked up on his own big head, Lebe just stood there like some kind of undead-Goro (Mortal Kombat) action figure.

“Or Daniel will be forced to have the Unit’s janitors scrape you off the warehouse floor. Understand, boy?” Lebe wasn’t good with people, granted. But if this is how he treated his friends, imagine what he’d do to G-Unit’s enemies.


Dey was more than pleased that he did not have to put grappling in this little struggle they were having. He tossed the sack of flesh and decay as if it were his job. Stand on two feet, his pupils exaggeratedly expanded. There was something in his shirt. Not even taking the time to dig into his garment, he hammered one fist on his chest like he was making a statement. There was a disgustingly loud squishy sound as the many legged bug collapsed under the weight of his fist. Dey then proceeded to further mimic Lebe by pulling his shirt off like some thirsty teen about to go skinny dipping. He threw it behind him, in the direction of a crowd of soldiers, nurses, and Dan. The rifles they held were raised and fired, trailing dozens of holes through his mucus soaked tee. The lieutenant gave a discouraging shake with his head, and a dignified thumbs down.

“Keep that shit away from here!!”

“My bad.”

He couldn't blame him. The removal of his shirt revealed a perfectly toned body that would make Bruce Lee a little envious. De' was a genetically enhanced, superb projection of the human genome's capabilities. He lowered his elbows and waved Lebe on like a pay per view wrestling match. The large centipede corpse stuck embroiled on his chest. Dey had gotten over the fact his homies would probably think this is the most embarrassing moment of his life. He was done being a baby. Yes, the man eating tyrant was committing a heinous act of indecency, but there were showering facilities around, and though it felt like it, he wasn't sprayed with skunk perfume. The youth was actually having a great time, as he taunted Lebe, mouthing the words come on; he could wash the shame off later. Until, shit. Just when he thought things couldn't get any muckier for him, his formidable adversary lifted his arms, and sprouted two more, in a grotesque display of incorrigible decay, and vile entrails.

“Damn!”

DeBurnay scoffed at his comment. He didn't care how many appendages god, or, more likely the devil, bestowed him with. He had something that had gotten him through time, and time again. Something you couldn't account for; luck.

“You bettah' have insurance,” Dey raised his arms into a tight notch guard, hopping on the balls of his feet, he shot himself at the almost faceless Lebe. Getting through his non-existent defense would be easy. He may have more limbs, but they were still empty muscle. Getting around them would only require quick jabs of defense, it would be just like slapping raw bags of flesh. Shit, it was slapping raw bags of flesh. Similar to his Shaolin-Monk training he had taken in Dengfeng, China. And he knew all the pressure points. Dey leaned in tracking Lebe's body movements in a blank concentrated stare. He decided to dig deep into the ghoul's rhinoplasty with a jab that arced in a hook like angle. Keeping his shoulders up, and his chin tucked in for an air-tight defense, he would bring his left back in defense, then send his right out for a cross punch, bring his right back for guard, and repeat. Within five seconds Lebe's face would become something you flush away.

“Ass whoopin' insurance!!”

Lebe was shocked. The kid had balls; either that or he was a little slow in the head.

Round 2…

Raw bags of flesh? Okay sure, but in a weight room Lebe would still put the average athlete to shame. Pressure points? Don’t apply. That said, Lebe had to come hard with it. His little performance didn’t earn him the win like planned, so failing now would do a real number on his image. Plus, Dan was probably going to snap about ignoring the rules. Can’t win all the time. Anticipating a headshot, Lebe jerked to the outside of De’s punch, away from De’s body. Primarily to align his sternum with De’s attacking shoulder, Lebe dodged. Unfortunately, his timing was a little off. He avoided the worst of it but took a grazing blow to the left ear, pinning the cartilage up against the side of his head. In return, Lebe threw both rights, 1 high and 1 low. The top fist was looking for the base of De’d neck, the lower De’s kidneys. He launched them simultaneously, stepping into the punches at the same moment he saw De’s shoulder move, the shoulder movement that ended in an ear-punch. At best De’ would probably only be able to avoid 1 of the 2 counterattacks. If De’ continued on with his original plan and threw the right, Lebe would catch it with his top left hand and pull De’ in for a totally free body shot using his lower left fist. In doing so Lebe would eliminate the possibility of De’ throwing the same combination twice. Luck is nice and all, but the odds are in Lebe’s favor.

De was pleased that he was able to use momentum to chip away at the ghoul's earpiece, the somewhat satisfying feeling of smashing dead bones that he got when he kneaded the monster's face like dough was missing. Instead the zombie retaliated with his own emotional comeback, seemingly playing smart now that he had more limbs. Instead of sticking to the original strategy of a ravenous devour, the walking dead now decided that being defensive was more important than being offensive. Now he was starting to get it. Dey coughed blood as the lower arm bashed into his side, while he blocked off the upper arm with a graceful swing of his fist. Pressure points would apply to the destruction of the ghoul's limbs long as he retained basic human anatomy. The pressure points were in definition, weak points, and when applied with too much pressure would cause limbs to crumble lifelessly. Lebe had taken the time to keep himself lined up with Dey's sternum, and the super-athlete weaved to the left, then returned with his right. In the mean time, DeBurnay kept his sights peeled for all of the zombie's body movements. When he wrapped himself around Dey's wrist, the Olympian swiftly weaved in, to close the little distance between them, and grasped Lebe's upper arm with his left. He threw his right leg down in a pivot between Lebe's two legs, and made to judo throw the monstrosity down in a pile of his own slime, grunting hard as Lebe's lower arms smashed into his open side. With his advanced physical kinetic strength, Dey could like tear the man’s arm off, instead of slamming him to the dirt. If that happened it would leave Dey completely vulnerable. He hoped to disrupt any resistance with the throw, but if his arm simply came off, there would be no chain to drag the man-eating tyrant. If the throw went without a hitch, he would twist his arm, and drop kick the fallen Lebe with a left foot. Taking aim for his squished up ear, in an attempt to decapitate him.

“They say there's only one way to kill a zombie...”

The arena fell quiet when the ghouls head fell to the ground. Dan placed a hand over his mouth and shook his head, though his eyes displayed no real emotion. Lina and Jason stared over, as well as any other G-Unit trainees. Dey stood up straight and turned to Dan. Everyone was waiting for a response, in a training atmosphere,it was rare for people to get killed.

“Is he deader than dead?” Jason asked Lina. Lina shrugged her shoulders and lit a smoke.

“If Ghouls work the same way in your world as they do in mine, then severing the head is a good way to kill them…”

“Oh…” Jason looked away from Lina and back to the scene just a few yards away from them.

Lina grew a grin as she stared at it. Now that was someone to practice with. She wasn’t a zombie, but she did have many undead like qualities. None of them were gross either…

Dan took his hand away from his mouth and held them out to the side. “Well… clean it up… That guy was gross anyway…” Dan turned to the medical crew. “Who even let that weirdo in?” The medical crew all look from one another and shrugged. Fingers were pointed, but no one really seemed to know who had really done it. Dan held two fingers up. “Ok, look… Just no more gross people. Don’t let it happen again…” He turned back to his newest members. “Continue your training… Death happens in war, apparently some people are just a little more invigorated than others.”



Lina turned away from the scene that Dey was ordered to clean up. It was gross. She was glad that nasty puppet hadn’t stood up to her. She lowered her shoulders, and her jacket slide down them. Her bare back was revealed, and she knew Jason would be intrigued. She removed the jacket and was left standing in nothing but her black body armor. She didn’t much understand it. It barely covered anything vital. However, she found that with certain attacks, and through some concentration she can manipulate it in ways. Intense stress brought it on at first. Since then she had been working to control its reaction. It only seemed like the logical thing to do.

She turned to Jason with a meek smile. “Let’s show Dan what we’ve got to bring to the table…”

Jason smiled and pelvic thrusted. “Right here, in front of everyone?”

Lina threw her coat at his face. “Pervo…” She took off at full speed, with her fist cocked back. By the time he had removed her jacket from his view, all he saw coming towards him was black metallic fist. It caught him right above the cheekbone and sent him falling backwards. Lina gripped his shirt as he fell, and bent her knees so that she could fall with him. Her knees hit the gravel, and as where it wasn’t comfortable, she had other things to worry about. The blade that extended off her wristguard, up to her elbow found its way across Jason’s throat. She brough the blade across so that he could feel it slowly sliding through his flesh. She sat still on him, straddle over him, holding the blade so that the wrong flick of the wrist would end his life. She leaned over her blade and whispered down to him.

“Check mate… love.”

“Dirty… I like it…” Jason paused and smiled widely. “You feel that?”

Lina raised an eyebrow. “What?” Jason simply wiggled his hips below her. Thought she didn’t move, she palmed his face and sat up away from him. As she sat up Dan was in full motion over to her. He held a hand out to her, and she took the help in standing up. No use in getting poked in any insignificant ways.

“Thank you sir…” She stood and stepped over Jason. Lina eyed the arena for her next fight mate, but she assumed De was still busy disposing of his old friend, and then probably showering. Shame.

“Lina, you never do seem to stop amazing me.” Dan smiled his boyish best at her as he handed her the jacket she had thrown at Jason. She took it and put i back on, buttoning it up as it was before. She wasn’t ashamed of her battle garb, but walking down the street in a major city might be a little risque.

“Jason, go get your neck fixed up, and find another partner. Try not to lose your head.” He spoke to Jason over Lina’s shoulder. When his eyes met Lina’s again, he continued, “ I would like you to come with me Miss Haeden.”

Lina gave a nod, and while Dan turned from her and started forward across the training facility her eyes wandered. There were so many men her working hard to prove themselves for a cause. It had become obvious to her that this was an entirely post-human establishment. In a way that was racial discrimination, but she understood why. She didn’t feel as though she could trust the humans. There was something deep seeded within her that lead her to this point. Walking down a long hallway with Dan, the second in command. She supposed she was going to be shown her quarters, maybe meet the big boss, or maybe she would be introduced into a separate type of training facility. Structure of the organization would suggest that she was best just waiting for the answer to present itself, best not to ask useless questions when in the presence of someone who held some sort of military structuring. He stopped outside an office door, and knocked on it three times before entering. She followed him, and closed the door behind her. Whens he turned back to look at the room, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. A fe filing cabinets, a desk, it smelled like pine-sol. She walked over to the desk with Dan and the man behind it looked up from his paper work. He had dark hair, with light brown eyes. They almost looked amber to her.

“You must be Lina Haeden…” Take a seat. He held his hand out, and she had no reason not to oblige. She had no idea who he was.

“So I’m told you’ve lost memory of who you are, how did that happen exactly?” The man showed more interest in her story than anyone else had. She sat back and looked over at Dan. He gave her eyes that beckoned for an answer. She turned back to the man behind the desk and pointed at him. “Well who are you?”

“Does it matter? You have no memory…”

“Maye your name will spark something… Do you know who I am?”

The man behind the desk sat quietly for a moment before he continued. “I know of you…”
He sat back in his chair. “We’ve never interacted together in person until now. I can say that honestly.”

“Ok, so no plots against me on your part?”

Dan chuckled, and the man behind the desk followed suit. “Miss Haeden, please… If we wanted you dead, why play it out? We are men after all. Your power is an important essence for our clan, there is no more reason than that.” Lina looked unaffected by his statements. Either she was really good at hiding her outward emotion, or she was actually thinking about it.

“So who are you?”

The sat up in his chair, and placed his elbow on his desk. He extended a gloved hand to her, and smiled deviously. “I am Judas Gaebel.”

Lina took his hand and shook it graciously. “The boss man, right, naturally you would have questions about how your men are. Silly me.” She sounded like she was rambling, though a hint of it were sarcastic. Either she had been playing dumb the whole time, or she really had no idea what was going on. So many ifs with her. She was interesting. Lina’s past history made her a suspicious character to have aboard G-unit, but she had proven her loyalty in the past as well. She was rather unpredictable in her mannerisms, and actions. It’s what made her such a fun pawn to watch on the battlegrounds. If they could mold her, with the lack of memory, then they could create the perfect monster. Initially, that was the goal for every member, but there would be a lot of time to determine who the best fit for the task were.

Lina found it out that the line of general questioning was over. Judas had dismissed her and Dan had lead her out. She had gone through some sort of test, or at least that’s how she felt. Boy oh boy what had she drug herself into this time...
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