Post by fourscore on Jun 2, 2010 8:25:42 GMT -7
there was a bright light, then heavy thump. He opened his eyes, grey pavement. Looked up a bit, his shades. A hand reached foreward and picked up the shades, the shades and hand combination found its way to those open eyes, adding a slight tint to that gray pavement. "bloody hell..." Next came pain, the feeling of having just fallen from several feet to land flat on concrete. He brought himself up to his full height, his lanky body aching... "where the hell am I?"
The surroundings were unfamiliar, though of a similar aesthetic bend, warehouses and buildings and the like. He was in a parking lot, judging by the organized yellow lines across the gray pavement. Sniper looked around, dusting off his black vest. His ribs hurt, might've cracked one on that landing. "teleportah malfunction... stewpid enginee-ah..." his thick australian accent showed proud and true as he muttered to himself. On the gray concrete, at least six feet away, was his Kukri, a large and impressive specimen at that. He felt the familiar heft of the fore-ward curving weapon. It was, more or less, a foot and a half long and had a good swing to it. Sniper put his hand behind his back and let go of the great knife, storing it for later.
He had no clue where most of his armaments go when he does that, all that he knows is that it allows him to store his gear for later. He scratched his head, moving that large huntsman's hat about a bit as he did so. "well, no use standin' 'round 'ere..." Sniper started to slowly walk across the parking lot, heading for the warehouse...
The surroundings were unfamiliar, though of a similar aesthetic bend, warehouses and buildings and the like. He was in a parking lot, judging by the organized yellow lines across the gray pavement. Sniper looked around, dusting off his black vest. His ribs hurt, might've cracked one on that landing. "teleportah malfunction... stewpid enginee-ah..." his thick australian accent showed proud and true as he muttered to himself. On the gray concrete, at least six feet away, was his Kukri, a large and impressive specimen at that. He felt the familiar heft of the fore-ward curving weapon. It was, more or less, a foot and a half long and had a good swing to it. Sniper put his hand behind his back and let go of the great knife, storing it for later.
He had no clue where most of his armaments go when he does that, all that he knows is that it allows him to store his gear for later. He scratched his head, moving that large huntsman's hat about a bit as he did so. "well, no use standin' 'round 'ere..." Sniper started to slowly walk across the parking lot, heading for the warehouse...
