Author Topic: The Chronicles of Mike Boone  (Read 14431 times)

Offline Darkshifter98

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Re: The Chronicles of Mike Boone
« Reply #60 on: November 08, 2012, 04:14:14 PM »
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LlkYz6Il4JM" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LlkYz6Il4JM</a>

Chapter 7: Resistance


Day 51: Vulnerability


Present-day November, 2017


Location: City 7, Rat-ways

Boone’s legs began to cramp up as he slide down the narrow shaft, he didn’t remember the shaft being this damned long. After a moment, he began to hear the chattering of rats below, he looked down, in the low light, he could just faintly see the quick grey blur that was sewer rats. No wonder this was called the Rat-ways. He released the pressure his back was putting on the wall, he pulled his legs back and down, and landing with a soft thump as a cloud of sewer dirt surrounded his knees. He looked around him, the ceiling was just big enough to give him about half a foot of head space, and the floor was a soft grey.
But why was it moving?
He began to notice that the floor moved erratically, almost as if running away from him. He tilted his head to the side as the floor stopped, and saw the black beady eyes of sewer rats staring back at him. They all kept a safe distance from Boone, unmoving. This disturbed Boone, he was afraid they would form into a large, hairy wave and swallow him. He took a step forward, and the rats closest quickly scattered, quickly scurrying into small rat holes. Boone looked around at the small ocean of rats, before beginning to walk forward, maybe these rats smelt the scent of his blood, but were too afraid to attack. Even if it wasn’t true, it kept Boone’s mind at ease. He began walking forward, the rats in front scurrying quickly away. This strangely reminded him of an entry in the bible, where someone walked through the ocean, and as he walked, the ocean parted for him. This was almost what the rats were doing, in a strange way. The cavern was dimly lit, and it made Boone feel queasy to see all those rats moving about like some giant, hairy beast. He looked over his shoulder, his fingers uneasily drumming around his USP match as the mob of rats behind him followed. He began to feel very uneasy. In the distance, he could see a chain link fence, and beyond it, the bar where he had found 'Lucky’. He didn’t know about these rats, but maybe they just wanted out. He stopped at the chain link fence, looking to his left, he saw a handle, and saw a rail on the floor, and the fence had wheels on the bottom of it. He made his way left, being mindful not to step on anything, fearful for what would happen if he stepped on anything. He slide his USP match into his jacket, and wrapped his fingers around the handle. He began to back pedaled as he held the fence handle, the chain link shook lightly as it was guided along the fence. As Boone pulled, he noticed the rats were flooding out of through the opening of the fence. He left the chain link gate half open, watching as the last of the rats made they’re way out. He stepped outside, looking left to right as he saw their tales disappear around corners. He sure as hell hoped in doing this, he wasn’t given the Plague. He looked towards the wooden door that led to the bar, he took a step back, and took a running start, hopping over to the other side. He landed on the edge of the other side, he felt his right foot hit the edge, not the actual ground, he begin to tip back, his arms flailing. He instinctively threw his left arm out, grabbing hold of a loose hanging cable. He hung there for a moment, realizing he had had way too many brushes with death in the last few.. days? Weeks? Months? Boone just shook his head, he had lost all sense of time, he pulled himself forward, and stood in front of the door, his fingers drumming softly against him. 

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HPVO4ICbWIA" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HPVO4ICbWIA</a>

The door to the Rat-ways bar was kicked open with a violent “Snap!”, The rickety old door clattering to the floor. Boone stepped inside, holding his MP7 in his hand. He scanned the inside of the bar, tables were turned over, windows were broken, and the dying embers of a fire came from ‘Lucky’s office. Boone trudged forward over the broken glass and wood, his shoes making distinctive sounds of glass breaking under his feet. He stopped at the office door, giving it a light shove, and pointed his MP7 into the room, the light from the windows in the office giving him almost a passive-aggressive look. The room was a fiery orange as Boone stepped in, the dying embers of wood filled his nose. The desk was heavily burnt and the chair that stood in front was ash, a silhouetted man slowly got up behind the desk. “Pl-please...” He pleaded, his voice having an English accent. “D-don’t hurt me!” Boone lowered his MP7 slightly, cocking his head to the side. “And you are?” The man paused a moment, before speaking. “..Clay.” Boone nodded slightly. “You got a weapon, Clay?” Clay shook his head lightly. “Th-they all took the weapons when they went out t-to fight..” He stammered nervously. Boone looked down at his MP7 hesitantly, tilting it slightly in his hands, before turning back to Clay. “You ever shoot a weapon, Clay?” Clay tilted his from side to side, his hands now lightly drumming against the edge of the burnt desk. “I-I’ve practiced on the.. u-uh.. the paint ball ranges before, yeah.” Boone unclipped the sling from his MP7, tossing the MP7 onto the desk where Clay was standing. “Its time for the real thing, Clay.” Clay nodded enthusiastically as he picked up the MP7, Boone turned around slightly, sliding his USP match from his jacket as he inspected. Behind him, Clay materialized from the shadows, his face now seen from the light from outside, it was revealed that Clay was actually 'Lucky’. 'Lucky’ aimed the MP7 by the hip, aiming it straight at Boone, there was no way he could miss. He spoke, this time in the accent he usually spoke in, his Italian accent. He lowered his head lightly as an evil grin betook his face. “Goodbye.. Mister Boone.” Boone didn’t even bother turning around as 'Lucky’ pulled the trigger, only to hear the soft sound, “Click!”

Boone turned around to face 'Lucky’, his USP match in his hand, he had a bit of a hunch because he wasn’t holding his wound. He spread his arms out only slightly. “What you think I’m fuckin’ stupid, Hans?” 'Lucky’ tilted his head to the side in confusion. “How’d you know my name, you overwatch-helmet-wearing motherfucker?” Boone chuckled slightly, it certainly was different being cursed at by a fat, little Italian. “Lucky guess, ever seen Die Hard?” ‘Lucky’ cocked an eyebrow. Boone just shook his head in disappoint. “Never mind.” Boone raised his USP match, aiming it directly for ‘Lucky’s heart, ‘Lucky’ stammered into the wall, he could see him shaking lightly in the knees. “This is for the wastefulness of all those human lives,” Boone began, he aimed down, firing a round into his kneecap. ‘Lucky’ screamed in agony, clutching his knee in pain as he leaned against the wall, tears lightly streaming down his face. “This is for using me in your little game.” He took two steps closer, ‘Lucky’ looked up slightly, and Boone proceeded to fire a round into his shoulder. 'Lucky’s back hit the wall, his head flung back as his blood stained teeth grinded together in pain. He looked like he was about to say something, but only ended up coughing blood onto his pants. “And this-” Boone took another step forward, ‘Lucky’ looked up one last time, his eyes pleading for him to stop as Boone jammed his USP match against his forehead. “-is from everyone back in Ineu.” He pulled the trigger, the round tore through ‘Lucky’s head, the wall behind him was painted the color of blood and brain matter. ‘Lucky’ kept at a kneel for a moment, before tumbling face first on the ground at Boone’s feet. Boone wiped his pants a little bit, speaking in a mock-French accent. “You got blood on my suit...” He chuckled lightly, looking at his USP match. “You’re just my little Light Shining in the Darkness, aren’t you?” He slide his USP match back into his jacket, he pushed through the office door, leaving his empty MP7 behind him as he trudged forward, over the broken glass, and out the door. He made a left, and began making his way back the way he came, back towards Ineu.
« Last Edit: November 08, 2012, 04:21:09 PM by Darkshifter98 »
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Offline Darkshifter98

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Re: The Chronicles of Mike Boone
« Reply #61 on: November 10, 2012, 12:44:41 PM »
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8eWxNXkEjo" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8eWxNXkEjo</a>

Chapter 7: Resistance


Day 52: Intercept Course


Present-day November, 2017


Location: City 7, deep within the sewer system, just on the outskirts of the city leading to the canals

The sewer system Boone was in was near pitch black, save for the occasional wall lamp on each pillar. The pillars held up the arched ceiling so it wouldn’t cave in, as it was rather wide. Boone began to wonder what was the point in these tunnels when waste didn’t constantly flow through it, sure there was dirt mixed with waste underneath his feet, but it wasn’t water waste. He felt.. alone in these tunnels, it was a darkness that he didn’t like to tread through for the simple reason that anything could hide in it. Anything. His bandage was just about soaked through by now, he’d have to get it treated before the bandage lost its bondage. As he continued to traverse, there was a three-way intersection. One way continued straight forward in the direction he was going, and to Ineu, and there were two other paths that pierced through the archway walls and branched out elsewhere. Boone could faintly see the two floating wall lamps ahead where two more pillars were, there were also two pillars by each path on either side. He shrugged, and continued down the tunnel. After he had reached the second pair of pillars, the ones away from the two paths, he heard vocoded voices beckoning behind him. He peered over his shoulder, to see four Overwatch elites behind him, rifles raised. Boone turned fully around to face them, a USP match wasn't going to do much against an OSIPR, nevertheless five. What he began to notice was that each of the four Elites had a different secondary color that made them unique, one had an orange strip down his helmet, one had yellow highlights, one had green highlights, and one had a bloody handprint on the face of his helmet. He surely wasn’t dealing with a bunch of push-overs most Elites are. “<:: Anti-citizen, drop your weapon!” The one with the orange strip yelled. Boone looked over his shoulder, the two pillars behind him were within spitting distance. He could take cover behind them and come up with a plan, hopefully. Boone looked back at the team of Elites.
“You didn’t say please.”

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9dFf9g_miM" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9dFf9g_miM</a>

Boone back-pedaled towards the nearest pillar, he raised his USP match, and fired pot-shots at the squad of Elites. One of the shots nailed the elite in his kevlar, not even making him flinch as all four of them released a hail-fire of pulse rounds. Boone slipped behind the pillar to the Elites right side, or in this case Boone’s left. He leaned up against the pillar, sliding out his magazine, he had about half a mag plus one more. He leaned his head back against the wall as he tried to think, what did he have that he could use against them? A USP match.. and that was about it, unless he decided he would throw everything he had in his backpack at them. Throw. The grenade. Boone reached into his jacket, pulling out the dusty old green tube that the sapper had given him on the Citadel. He had given him two grenades! Boone’s shoulders drooped slightly in relief, he still had a chance. The firing ceased, they were either reloading or were advancing. Nevertheless, Boone leaned out of his cover, now sitting against the pillar, his left hand clutched his USP match tightly as he fired, his right hand holding the grenade. His pistol shots pinged and
ricocheted off the walls, Boone got some well placed shots on their legs, but it only slowed them down slightly as they stood behind the pillars further down the tunnels, where the three-way intersection was. Boone’s stopped firing and clicked each time he pulled the trigger, out of ammo! He leaned back into cover, letting the mag drop to the floor as he slide in a fresh one. He’d have to use this grenade or he was screwed. He contemplated what to do with it, he could throw it at them, duh, and hope to cripple or kill them and run, but they could just give chase. What else was there!? Boone thought for a moment, and then thought of the pillars, surely there old and withered, maybe a blast from a grenade would be all they would need to crumble. Boone stuck his forefinger into the pin, and pulled it off. One. The Elites seemed to be reloading, their OSIPR’s making soft beeping sounds as new pulse rounds were loaded. Two. “<:: Sir, I think he’s out of ammo!” One of the units called out. Little did he know Boone still had a trick up his sleeve. Three. He leaned out of cover once more, and chucked the grenade down the tunnel towards the pillar on his right. The orange-stripped one looked down seemingly in horror. “<:: Bouncer, bouncer, get clear!” He yelled, the squad of elites high-tailed it as the grenade struck lightly against the pillar, leaning up against it. After just a moment, the grenade exploded violently, the pillar exploding into chunks of concrete as the framework was revealed. The weight above it was too much for the framework to withstand. It began to collapse, shaking loose pieces of concrete down from the ceiling. Boone stood up from his cover, and began sprinting full on down the tunnel. The pillar completely collapsed on itself, the second pillar began collapsing as well without support from the second one. As Boone ran, pulse slugs zoomed passed him as the Elites started firing at him. Boone kept his head down, hoping that Overwatch didn’t believe in luck. Finally, the second pillar collapsed, caving in the ceiling above the two destroyed pillars, and the ones where Boone was taking cover. Boone tumbled to the ground as the ceiling collapsed, falling face first onto the ground. For a moment, the tunnel was pitch-black, before the lights ahead of him flickered on. Boone looked over his shoulder, the tunnel behind him was blocked, and there weren’t any half-buried Overwatch amongst the debris. Boone stood up slowly, holding his ribs and gunshot wound painfully, he began to limp down the tunnel, now wanting to get back to Ineu slightly faster then he did a few minutes ago...

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nrm57fazUIg" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nrm57fazUIg</a>

Despite what Boone had thought before, Boone had affected City 7 more then he realizes. With The Watchers crippled, they were weak and scattered. With no command structure, and all of their officers dead, they would soon be put down... and eventually forgotten. It is unknown when the Watchers were extinguished, or if they succeed in the 'liberation’ of City 7. Boone would walk the path to Ineu alone, never looking back, never thinking of coming back.
Only when the scorched winds from City 7 blew over the valley did Boone ever think back, ever think back, of what he could of done differently.
« Last Edit: November 10, 2012, 12:49:00 PM by Darkshifter98 »
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