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Futuristic The Marvelous Mishaps of the Jolly Rockets [MAIN]

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Kwillz

Bardic Inspiration

<Welcome Aboard>
What happens when you get a band of misfits together to form a crew of space pirates? I'm not too sure, but this is their story...

(This is a closed RP)
GM: Kwillz Kwillz
 
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<PART 1: THE RECRUITS>
Welcome to the Intergalactic Empire, 150 years PA (Post-Awakening).

Let’s go over the basics. The Empire is everywhere. Its influence present in every city, town, and village. At this point, even the lone outhouse in the middle of nowhere probably has an Imperial seal stamped on it. With its massive army and state of the art technology, no real danger has come threaten the hold it has within recent memory. The regular people of the Empire don’t seem to care enough to try and revolt. They pay their taxes, vote in their assemblies, and go about their own business, not paying much attention to the routine patrols of Imperial ships going on above their heads. That’s just how life in the Empire works now.

There is pretty much every known “alien” race present in the Empire. But aside from the handful of major interracial cultural hubs, they remain independent from one another. Places like Quaidan, Terra, and 270 are filled with all sorts of colorful individuals and integration of races, but most separate planets are usually inhabited by one major race. These planets do trade with others and still recognize themselves as part of the Empire, but they choose to go about their own business on their planets, some being more seclusive than others. Generally, it is easiest to see where someone is from based on how they act around other races.

There are plenty of notable locations that are possible to visit. However, in the interest of time, we’ll go over some of the more “important ones” — the Empire is Intergalactic, after all. Quaidan, Terra, and 270 are the three names you’ll hear a lot and are the most prominent. Quaidan was originally a major elven planet, but after the elves began the empire, more and more kinds of individuals have come to inhabit Quaidan. The capital city is the home to the bureaucrats, the Imperial Academy, and the Gallantry’s guild hall. Terra is what many like to call “the average man’s Quaidan.” Many of the big corporations have their headquarters here, as Terra is the trading capital of the entire Empire. City 270 is probably the most lively of the main three, but also one of the most crime-ridden. But it is also home to some of the most famous taverns in the galaxy if that makes up for it. If you’re looking for somewhere away from all the cities, the Empire is home to other places like the Asteroid plains.

The entire Empire is ruled by High Sovereign Uridan Tal’Varus, a man entering his 72nd year. Under his rule, the Empire has seen peace and progress. But to be fair, he isn’t the real one running the Empire. That credit would go to the Council. The Emperor’s Council is the real decision-makers and made of officials both voted and appointed to their positions. Recently though, there has been tension among the Council for reasons they keep behind their closed doors...

The history of the Empire is filled with the stories and legends of the warriors and heroes who fought to protect the galaxy. And how could we talk about heroes without talking about the Gallantry? The Gallantry is a guild of warriors led by the extremely famous paladin known as Elegorn the Resolute. In his prime, he defeated some of the most dangerous monsters the galaxy had ever seen. Stories of his adventures have become some of the most popular subjects of tavern songs. It has been years since he has really seen battle, and since then he has moved away from the spotlight, leading the Gallantry in more humanitarian efforts instead.

But that’s enough of the history lesson. You’re here for the story, aren’t you? Well, let’s begin.

~~~~~​

The story of our “heroes” —if you can even call them that—begins, well, unlike most stories like this. Instead of a nice and cozy tavern, our oblivious soon-to-be adventurers are all prisoners on the Ironhold. The I.E.S. Ironhold is one of the several prison ships owned by the Imperial Army. With crime on the rise everywhere, the Empire decided it would be the more efficient to use their old army carriers as floating and portable prisons. Unfortunately, though, these prisons are not nearly as secure as official ones. So these prison ships are mainly used to hold prisoners of lower profiles on them.

The day started like every other on the Ironhold: a buzzer would sound and the cells doors would open. Guards would watch the prisoners as they made their way to the mess hall for their breakfast, occasionally having to pull some sorry sap out of his cells and forcing him forward. The guards were basic Imperial army soldiers. They wore the staple dark-red and gold armor, their helmets covering their faces and making pretty all of them look the same. Most carried an army-standard plasma rifle on them with a shocking baton and plasma pistol on their belts.

As the guards prodded the straggling prisoners forward, cameras mounted to the ship's walls tracked their every move. With the prisoners under constant watch at all times, there are few attempts at escape, and those attempts that do occur are taken care of immediately and effectively. The ship has an armory of heavier weaponry on one of the lower decks should anything go wrong on board.

But for today, everything seemed normal and in order for the most part. The prisoners moved to mess hall, as usual, to be served their meal. The food on the ship was anything but high class. In fact, it would be hard to describe exactly what the mess hall serves. It looked like bowls of random, tasteless mush served with a side of dusty edible rocks. Apparently, it was some invention by Nexus Corp that gives the nutrients needed without having to waste food resources on prisoners. It was cheap, easily mass-produced, and the perfect amount of unpleasant to serve in a jail.

As prisoners lined up to get their trays, the tables began filling up with different groups of prisoners. It was easy to tell how long someone had been on the ship. Typically, those who have been around the longest already had a clique to call their own and immediately go to sit with their compatriots. These tables are usually the loudest in the room. Once a clique is formed, anyone who even tries to sit with them will often cut off their conversation and be met with multiple angry glares. New prisoners sit separately with other newbies around them. The conversation among fellow new inmates in especially awkward, but when you're stuck on a ship for who knows how long your sentence is, you have to make some kind of friend eventually...

And here, is where we meet our "heroes"...

(( Berries Berries Shannon Trevor Shannon Trevor pilgrim_ pilgrim_ Elekta Kount Elekta Kount Bill Nein Bill Nein ))

GM's Notes Hello and welcome to the start of the roleplay, everyone! These fieldsets here are what I will be using to write little GM notes after every major "new event" post. It will have information like clues on what to do or when I update something I reveal in the Lore tab.

Right now everyone will start out in the mess hall. You are free to use/control minor NPCs (guards, cafeteria workers, prisoners, etc.) for your post. Feel free to interact with one another in whatever way you'd like. Tagging/mentioning may be helpful. If you wish to do anything major with NPCs (fight, get information) you can mention me. Have fun and remember that all your actions will have consequences. I will reward and punish you for your actions accordingly. We do not have dice to decide whether you fail or lose, so it is all honor system. I REMIND YOU that having your character fall short will not always be a bad thing. In fact, I will probably be in your best interest to fail every so often... Lest you anger your GM and force her to literally bring down the entire universe onto your character. I don't want to have to do that. So basically, don't powerplay.

Any questions can come to me in OOC. Happy posting!
 
Kaptin_Bluddflagg_4075.jpg

Kaptain Bluddflagg
Meanwhile...meal time was about to begin on a lower deck, a place where they kept the worst of the worst within so-called impact proof cells.
Within one of these cells, laid a massive figure, an orkish figure, with both it's arms behind his back, cushioning as he laid against the cell walls. It was wearing what looked to be a pirate's hat, tipped over his face.
The ork himself was asleep, even it's snores could echoed through the hall.
His name was Kaptain Bluddflagg, one of the most natourious pirates in all the galaxy, and currently captured by the mighty Empire.
Or like Bluddflagg like to call them:
"Dem puny 'umie gitz."
Wasen't his fault that he was capture, if those gitz he called "allies" would have backed him up in the fight, he'd still have his kroozer and his boyz. and would still be plundering the sector.
But noooo, they just had to run away when the fighting got good.
They kept yelling somthing about "Too much dakka" or "shipz fallin' apart" or "everytin' waz red."
Silly gitz, red only meant that they were going "SUPA FAST!"
Whatever the reason those gitz had for running, Bluddflagg was here, laying in a cell, bored out of his mind.
A normal, or even most ailen, would mad being in such close confides for what seemed like days or maybe weeks.
But not Bluddflagg.
An orks mind is incredibly simple.
No, he spent most of those days punching and kicking the walls, that was a lot of fun, but the only problem was it was very boring.
I mean, the walls didn't fight back, what fun was it?
Course, there was another reason he was trying to harm the wall...but it was so boring that he ended up just lying down, mucking about.
He'd probably go back to punching and kicking, but for now...
A loud buzzer ran, followed by what sounded like a metallic clang.
Bluddflagg staid in the prone position for a few moments, before snorted.
Taking his hat off his face, he placed it on his head, as he sat up to see what it was.
Grub
Most people would have found the grey stuff repulsive, but not a greenskin like Bluddflagg; they'd eat just about anything.
Sure, it was not roasted squig or fungus brew, but hey, it was somthing, and it was somthing that Bluddflagg could put in his mouth an relieve some boredom.
Getting up, the ork stomped over to the tray that had fell into his cell.
The tray was tiny compare to the ork, in fact, Bluddflagg had to ustlizie two of his fingers to pick up the smaller tray.
Not even looking, Bluddflagg flung the grey goop into his mouth.
He munched on it for a few seconds, before throwing the metallic platter into his mouth, but he did not swallow it. Instead, he kept the metal tray in his mouth, where his teeth began to grind up the metal into a ball.
He was using the tray like it was chewing tabaccoo.
It kept the ork busy for a good while, before he got bored of it , and spat it on the floor, where it was usually going to get picked up.
The ork chuckled, a very low chuckle, as he thought about the puny human's reaction to seeing the tray all chewed up.
It never got old, especially if you couldn't directly punch them in the face.
Now, without much to do, Bluddflagg went to one of the sides of the cell. This particular cell had a window to it, for observation purposes.
Going over to the window, he began to pound it with his fists.
"Oi! "umiez!" Bluddflagg yelled, his voice could be heard two walls beyond his cell. "Git in 'ere! When'z me executionz!? Eh!? Kauze diz iz gittin' downrioght borin'!"
Bluddflagg was refering to the guards standing on the outer wall of the cell.
Kwillz Kwillz
 
Rene had watched the display from the Ork with bored disinterest. It was an impressive feat but travel the galaxy for long enough and the unique quickly becomes the mundane. She turned back to the line that was now slowly moving toward the canteen once more.

Finding an empty table at the far edge of the room, Rene seated herself. Collecting a spoonful of the grey gloop, she chewed it slowly. It was a culinary mystery, somehow utterly tasteless yet revolting at the same time. Still, it was all that was on offer and if it was a choice between disgusting mush and going hungry, the mush won out every time. The barge was a shark tank and she had no inclination to let her strength drop any time soon.

Unconsciously, her right hand went to her left wrist, missing the familiar feel of the steel chronograph watch she had worn there before the guards had taken it from her whilst she was still out cold. Her mood soured at the thought of them pawing over her when she was helpless. From across the mess, a young man caught her eye, his cocksure arrogance fading as he caught her gaze. He wouldn't have been the first one to try in the two days she had been on the ship. Although Rene wasn't the only woman on board, she had still managed to attract some unwanted attention. A firm "No", followed by a swift kick to the nads after not receiving the message had discouraged the first suitor. A simple look seemed to be enough to ward off the advances of number two.

She finished the gloop quickly and dropped the tray in the cleaner and headed for the exit.
 
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A pair of brown, webbed claws clicked on the floor, seating a short abdomen of barely four feet in height, also covered in dark hairs. Once a mystery for ancient researchers on Terra, the species carrying a plain steel tray with packets of cheap food sat at a small square table, his eyes flattened by the boredom he expressed at the controlled cacophony around him.

The platypus' eyes raised a little at the sight of a raucous gambling game in the corner, but he shook his head and returned to his dry edibles, the brown packaging splitting to reveal some kind of fried carbohydrate product, served with his standard drink of mineral water. There was no nutritional information, probably for the better, thought Patterguss- they'd be sued for the contents of this alone if he ever got out.

Though, he continued his mental attack on the institution, he'd prefer sueing the other prisoners for using their mouths as chemical weapons.
"Do you miiiiiind ifffff I siiiiit here?" A man with seemingly no other special features hissed, and the platypus shook his head in response after a glance. Perhaps he didn't have it so bad, at least he could speak properly.
 
The chewed up metal fell and rolled across the floor, causing one of the guards to glance back at the ork from the window before quickly turning back around. The helmet obscured from seeing the man face, but his shoulders dropped silently. If anything, he was more tired of being around the ork than being annoyed or surprised at what he would do. This particular guard had been stuck standing at the prisoner’s door from the very beginning and had not been moved since. The constant and incessant pounding and shouting was just about to drive him crazy.

When the ork asked his question, the second guard turned around to answer. “Wouldn’t you like to know...” he said in a mocking tone, “Our boys’ll pick you up when it’s time... so don’t worry that big green head of yours.”
“You think they could take me instead...” The first guard muttered under his breath.
Elekta Kount Elekta Kount

As Rene approached the exit, the two guards at the door crossed their shock rods, blocking it. “Stop right there.” One said, holding out his free hand. “Where do you think you’re going?”
”She must be knew ‘round ‘ere.” His partner said.
“I can tell. Back to your seat, mealtime isn’t over yet. Go on.” He ordered, shooing her away.
Like every other Imperial prisons, the day was scheduled very strictly. They had no intention of allowing prisoners to be out and about on their own outside of the small period of designated free time— if you could call putting all the prisoners in a large, open, and empty room for fifteen minutes (while still under careful watch) “free time.”
Shannon Trevor Shannon Trevor
 
Groaning and stretching her arms as the buzzer went off and woke her up from what had been a somewhat pleasant sleep, Ross blinked a few times to get herself reoriented. Still in prison? Still in prison. Sighing in never-ceasing disappointment of her current situation, Ross was taking her time getting out of her cell - a fact that the guards apparently didn't like. As they started to circle in to pull her out of the cell and toss her into the cafeteria the tiefling picked up her pace and managed to sufficiently convince them that she was cooperating. The last thing she wanted this early in the morning was to have one of these nasty guards' hands all over her. Cracking a yawn, Ross looked around dully as she made her way with the line of prisoners into the cafeteria. Ever since she had gotten here she had been non-stop scanning the place to determine a way out, but no matter how much she thought about it, there seemed to be few solutions.

As far as the woman had concluded, there wasn't going to be any escape from this ship unless they either landed somewhere or she had help on the outside. Seeing as she knew her partner wasn't going to be getting her, there seemed little option except to wait the ship out and see if it landed somewhere. Or until her sentence ended; whichever came first. Ross wasn't liking imprisonment one bit, and every minute she spent on this damned ship was edging at her nerves, but while she wasn't a genius she knew better than to make a break for it on a ship that she couldn't even get off of. Ross didn't exactly intend on suffocating out in space even if she did manage to get past all the guards and security systems.

On the way to the cafeteria she noted a loud banging noise coming from a cell, and seeing the nasty green orc yelling in there made her scowl. "Nasty," she muttered under her breath as she walked past. It was pretty obvious that the tiefling didn't exactly favor orcs. As she was reaching the cafeteria, there seemed to be a small issue between a human woman and some of the guards. Yawning again, the tiefling gestured to the woman who was being shooed away by the guards. "Come sit with me," she said in a tone that was neither an order nor a request as she took a plate of the gray foodstuff that hardly could be considered food. Looking around for a table, Ross shrugged before sitting down beside some kind of platypus thing. "I'm sitting here." She informed the creature, making it clear she didn't care if she was wanted or not.

Shoveling the gray goop into her mouth, Ross glanced up to see if the woman from before had taken up on her offer to come sit. "I'm new here too and it looks like prisoners are forming their own gangs so here's the beginning of our gang." The tiefling commented, eyes traveling from the platypus to the blonde woman with eyebrows raised. Ross wasn't exactly very friendly, nor was she particularly convincing, but her deadpan way of talking at least gave her some credibility.

Interaction: Shannon Trevor Shannon Trevor pilgrim_ pilgrim_
 
Adrian is locked into what seems to be the worlds most intense game of space poker ever.Both he and this off colored human species are locked with an intertwined glare of hatred,resent,net,and cunning.
"Your move Quor-Saal"
Adrian looks defeated. His cards are a winning hand but he is pulling off a good bluff. The stakes in table are some form of cigarettes and a couple of shivs.
The alien says something in its native tounge and plays its cards... Damn fine play.
He looks triumphant and is motioning to his posse that I lost
"Seems I lost... looks like I don't need these"
he plays his cards. He has the worlds smuggest smile. He collects his bets into a makeshift bag and hauls it into his cell.his cell, although barren, is surprisingly well kept. You would notice he doesn't have to share his space. He moves a pinup of some sort of space ship to reveal a stash of various objects. The stash includes. A makeshift sling. A makeshift detonator, a tin full of cigarettes. And a pile of shivs. Their are also various chemicals needed to make a bomb. He shoves his winnings into the stash and quickly closes it up.
He walks to the mess area where he was playing poker to grab himself something to eat... but instead he loiters, inspecting the area.
The big boy is active... ugh. Hopefully he won't cause to much of s ruckus.
He is refering to that loud obnoxious Ogre. Or orc. Giant goblin. He does t care. He isn't a big fan of that lumbering creature. Hess to loud. He hears the creature roar. He sighs. So much for quietness.
He spots that hybrid freak of nature thing.
Poor thing has to look like a disgruntled and deformed badger-duck.
He scoffs.
 
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The animal scarcely gave her a look as he ate, at least until she mentioned gangs, to which he continued crunching his food slowly, swallowing it and drinking his water for comfort. He noted that the speaker was almost as short as him, and yet intimidated snake-guy enough for him to leave. So much for friendly company.
"What do you want us to be, the Monster Mafia? The Infamous Inhumans? A good name is important for a theatrical performance," he spoke dryly, extending his arms to the side as if he were accepting applause. Then he returned to eating.

Despite the pointlessness of it, risking his wellbeing for the purpose of these impulsive statements was a conscious decision- it got him a little respect among some of the less confident, and a good amount of suspicion from the aggressive. It mattered not; he'd do whatever his time was and either die or get released at such an age he might as well be.

A gang could get him out early, though. A gang could get him something to do, too, other than correct cellmates and eat unhealthy food.
 
(Location: Mess Hall)
[ Berries Berries Shannon Trevor Shannon Trevor pilgrim_ pilgrim_ Bill Nein Bill Nein ]

The guards never did give prisoners much time for the prisoners to sit around and enjoy their "meals." Eventually, the familiar buzzer rang once again. Most of the prisoners got up automatically, as they had gone through the routine time and time again.

"Alright, everyone line up! Back to your cells you go." A guard called out stepping forward while his colleagues rounded up the prisoners into lines.

Then suddenly, there was a rumbling beneath everyone's feet. The ship had been smoothly cruising for the past couple of days. It was nowhere near any part of the galaxy where they could experience any turbulence or stray asteroids. Prisoners began murmuring to one another but were silenced by guards threatening them with their shock batons. The officer silenced everyone with a raise of his hand and a shout. "Quiet, all of you!" He turned to his subordinates, "Take them all back."

As the prisoners were led down the large intersection of the main halls back on the way back to their cells, there was one more rumble. Then another. They only became stronger with each one. Finally, the entire ship shook, everything rocking back and forth while guards and prisoners alike struggled to stay on their feet. The sharp sound of metal being torn echoed throughout the ship. Sirens began blaring as a squad of guards came running down the halls and turning the corner to rush towards the noise. "You all! Secure the prisoners! The rest of you, come with me!" The officer shouted. He took a small group of the guards to follow the first group.

The guards remaining had their rifles at the ready pointed at the prisoners. "Stay down! Don't move!" They barked.

Gunfire echoed from the struggle close by followed the sound of grunts and screams. Then, there was the howl. A loud howl unlike anything heard before. Coming around the corner was a monstrous creature with a large, almost black, fleshy body that had six legs coming out of it. Its head was relatively small compared to the rest of it, and it had no eyes, only a mouth full of sharp teeth that dripped a strange dark purple substance. It dropped the corpse of a dead guard at its feet, mangled up and covered in the same purple substance.

Many of the prisoners began to flee at the sight of it, pushing each other out of the way in the hopes of making it out alive. The guards began to shoot at the creature, the plasma fire causing it to reel back some. But it only made the beast angrier. It jumped onto a few nearby guards, tearing through the armor, the rifles flying out of the guards' hands.

Then it saw the large mass of people before it and, with another yell, began bounding towards everyone...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Location: High Security Cells Unit)
[ Elekta Kount Elekta Kount ]

Simultaneously as this all happened, four guards came marching down the halls of the high-security deck. Two of them carried heavy-duty plasma rifles close to them. They led the other two guards who carried large, long metal poles with a big hoop on the end, almost as if they were like butterfly nets without the netting. The small brigade of guards followed the sound of the loud banging, reaching the cell containing the ork pirate. “We’re ‘ere to take this one away.” One of the guards in front said to the guards stationed there.

The first guard who had been stationed to watch the cell sighed in what sounded like complete relief. “Finally...” He turned back to the cell window, pounding on the door. “Hey, look who’s here to pick you up! You know the drill, face the wall with your hands behind your back.”

Once he did so and they were convinced it was safe, the door opened and the four guards entered. The ones with the blasters enter slowly first, aiming right and his head and flanking both sides of him. Next, the second two entered. While the first two seemed to be of an average humanoid side, these two were larger. Not as large as the ork, but pretty close. The scaled necks that peaked out from underneath their helmets would make anyone smart enough guess that they were dragonborns of some kind. They brought their poles forward and the hoops on the ends opened up like claws. They both grabbed onto the prisoner, restraining his arms down as the hoops closed and trapped him. These were specially designed to hold down even the wildest of prisoners. As they would struggle in the restraints, the hoops were programmed to only become tighter.

"Let's go, ork." One of the guards said, the dragonborn guards pulling Bluddflagg along. They felt the rumbling in the halls, but the guards ignored it, keeping their strong grip on the large ork. However, when the entire ship shook, they stumbled. The sirens and lights went off above them as well.

They were coming to the same intersection at the time. From the near distance, they saw the group of guards approach the broken through walls. A cloud of black smoke poured into the small army before taking the form of the same large monster. It tore through the guards, before running down the other hall...

GM's Notes Guess what everyone? Time for some combat to give you all some action! Woo!

Alright. So as you all know, we won't be using dice or number stats. Everything is honor system here. You can choose to fail or succeed in your shots however you feel is appropriate. But remember: all of your actions one round will have consequences (good and bad) that will effect what happens in the next. To get through combat, I suggest bouncing off one another. Teamwork makes the dream work, y'know? This will be a good test to see how you all work as a team. Note that for this battle, you will NOT be having your usual gear on you. You will have to improvise this one. Take weapons or armor from guards, the kitchen, or just use your raw strength. Do whatever it takes to take down this monster. But do it together. You will be given all of your gear back soon for the next fight, I promise. You'll just have to beat the monster and see what happens next before that happens... (*totally not evil laughter*)

Good luck! Remember that you can always ask me question in OOC!
 
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Adrian sweeps the guard next to home. He picks up the Plasma rifle and discharges the rifle. Shooting the guard in his face. He gets up in a rifle man line and shoots at the creatures. He noticed it didn't work. He quickly searches the guards for a key card. Which he soon finds.. he takes the pistol holster and straps it to his thigh.
"To those who want to live follow me. I know where the armory is.."
He signals to Ross and proceeds to run toward his cell... he has to pick up his....effects. His effects include 1 makeshift detonator. A container filled with a weird chemical mix. A wiring setup. A combat knife. And his poster.... odd. He straps it to his back and puts the rest in his bed. He divides up what he can hold on him. He straps the knife to the knife slot on the belt. He then clips the detonator to said belt and holds the chemicals in his hands... he then has the keycard in his other hand and unlocks the door that separated the cell block to the rest of the ship. He motions the others to follow him and he bounds towards the stair well.
 
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Before Adrian can reach the stairwell an imperial guard comes around the corner. Adrian can tell this guard is different. The resolve in his eyes is very intense and Adrian can sense that this guard will do whatever it takes to survive this encounter.
 
Adrian sees the guard and raises his rifle. He predicts the guard to open fire on him. He sidesteps the bolt and fires his own at the guard in the attempt to wound him , or even kill the guard with his stolen rifle.
 
"Ah, shit," muttered the brown thing, a short duck bill barely moving. Patterguss took one snap at his food, then gave leave to the luxuries of imprisonment.
Scampering across the floor on all fours, doing his best to keep his tail from being crushed by some wayward foot, Patterguss wove between benches, under a table, and then dived onto his stomach to grab a weapon- anything, whether it be a sharp object or a rifle-

Lights flew by his eyes, a cacophony of flashes and white strips that bore down on his senses as he uselessly flapped his claws, until they swung around the smooth fibre of a knife grip. It was slightly heavier than he expected, but he was feeling stronger than expected. He rolled away behind a corpse and looked at his discovery, all while still attempting to recover from the flurry of movement and lights. It was a straight blade, with no serrated edges or fancy inscriptions, coming to a point so sharp he could have attacked someone with the holster. Patterguss slung the knife around his back, and ran once again, trying to reach the stairwell despite the mass of plasma fire, debris, and people, finding himself kicked forward by chance from some oblivious human's running.
A thud, a curse from the platypus, and yet another roar as a hot beam of energy flew by him from the gunfire.
 

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