|
Don't Make Me A Target
 Acrobat: standard (rank 1)
Nerves. If you don't get nerves you shouldn't be in this game. It doesn't matter if you have rippling muscles as hard as steel that can reflect bullets off your nipples. If you're not nervous every time you go out on patrol you're either secretly suicidal or you need to go back and get your GED. Right now my heart is pacing so hard as I watch from the rooftop down at the pier bellow me. I can feel the rush of adrenaline, the scent of fear off my skin stinking the night air I bet a swarm of bees would come right now and sting the shit out of me. You try to steel yourself, you think up things that will make it all seem like it's worth doing. You get these bastards, you call the cops, that's less crack on the streets. Less shit that will pollute people's bodies. Okay Emily, you can do this. Just drop down from the fire escape. Slink through the alleyway across the street. You know how to do this, slink about, make yourself unseen. Just keep your eye on them. Dark knit caps, plumes of smoke from their cigarettes. The black and red paint on the hull of the cargo ship. Pay attention to them. Keep you eye out for everything INCLUDING THAT TRUCK. Whew, rolled out of that one right on time.
Leaning against an old crate I try and listen in on their conversation. They talk about the usual bullshit. What they're going to do with their cut of the money after this score, the recent failure of the Kingsport Kings against the Storm City Sentinels, how if they were the big boss they would do this or that. Clutching onto my chest I try and calm myself down. I know if I give away where I am now I'd have no chance. Surprise is on my side and with my skill I know I can take these suckers out. I decide to take action as I grip the edge of the crate, flipping over it as a few bullets whiz underneath me, most certainly aimed at a peeking skull they were hoping to crack open.
I land on all fours as I push off the balls of my feet. I'm no Mary Lou Retton but I know a few moves. They keep firing their pistols as I leap off a lamp post. Back flipping over a dumpster as I run along a row of them before flipping out again. I could see the confusion in their eyes as I cartwheel close to one of the goons, kicking his gun out of his hand. Sweeping the other off his feet with a low kick I get ready to disarm the third one only to see he had long thrown away his fire arm and punches me right in the nose. The second goon knees me in the back as I drop on all fours. Trying to get back up i feel it, the swift kick to my ribs that sends me onto my back as I writhe in the pain. As I look up I see the thick sole work boot come crashing down onto my face. The world suddenly turns black.
Trouble Comes Running
 Martial Arts: standard (rank 1)
Nerves. If you don't get nerves you shouldn't be in this game. It doesn't matter if you have rippling muscles as hard as steel that can reflect bullets off your nipples. If you're not nervous every time you go out on patrol you're either secretly suicidal or you need to go back and get your GED. Right now my heart is pacing so hard as I watch from the rooftop down at the pier bellow me. I can feel the rush of adrenaline, the scent of fear off my skin stinking the night air I bet a swarm of bees would come right now and sting the shit out of me. You try to steel yourself, you think up things that will make it all seem like it's worth doing. You get these bastards, you call the cops, that's less crack on the streets. Less shit that will pollute people's bodies. Okay Emily, you can do this. Just drop down from the fire escape. Slink through the alleyway across the street. You know how to do this, slink about, make yourself unseen. Just keep your eye on them. Dark knit caps, plumes of smoke from their cigarettes. The black and red paint on the hull of the cargo ship. Pay attention to them. Keep you eye out for everything INCLUDING THAT TRUCK. Whew, rolled out of that one right on time.
Leaning against an old crate I try and listen in on their conversation. They talk about the usual bullshit. What they're going to do with their cut of the money after this score, the recent failure of the Kingsport Kings against the Storm City Sentinels, how if they were the big boss they would do this or that. Clutching onto my chest I try and calm myself down. I know if I give away where I am now I'd have no chance. Surprise is on my side and with my skill I know I can take these suckers out. I decide to take action as I grip the edge of the crate, flipping over it as a few bullets whiz underneath me, most certainly aimed at a peeking skull they were hoping to crack open.
I land on all fours as I push off the balls of my feet. I'm no Mary Lou Retton but I know a few moves. They keep firing their pistols as I leap off a lamp post. Back flipping over a dumpster as I run along a row of them before flipping out again. I could see the confusion in their eyes as I cartwheel close to one of the goons, kicking his gun out of his hand. Sweeping the other off his feet with a low kick I get ready to disarm the third one only to see he had long throw away his fire arm and threw a quick punch that I duck under.
Coming back I swing a quick upper cut on his chin, shattering his front two teeth. Turning around I swing my kick high knocking the second buffoon's head in. The third lackey brought his fists up as I did the same, reverting to my old school boxing training as I keep my guard up. He comes at me with a quick jab I deftly dodged as I throw a pair of right jabs right at his eye as my left comes crashing forward, breaking his guard and his nose. Seeing him stagger back I kept coming at him, right jab, left hook, right cross, before I decide to stop screwing around and spin and aim a high kick right for his face that sends him flying into the water.
Proud of myself I take a breather as I look up at the night sky. In an instant I feel the piercing pain in my mid section. Looking down it appears that I have been impaled by a harpoon.
They Never Got You
 Danger Sense: superior (rank 2)
Nerves. If you don't get nerves you shouldn't be in this game. It doesn't matter if you have rippling muscles as hard as steel that can reflect bullets off your nipples. If you're not nervous every time you go out on patrol you're either secretly suicidal or you need to go back and get your GED. Right now my heart is pacing so hard as I watch from the rooftop down at the pier bellow me. I can feel the rush of adrenaline, the scent of fear off my skin stinking the night air I bet a swarm of bees would come right now and sting the shit out of me. You try to steel yourself, you think up things that will make it all seem like it's worth doing. You get these bastards, you call the cops, that's less crack on the streets. Less shit that will pollute people's bodies. Okay Emily, you can do this. Just drop down from the fire escape. Slink through the alleyway across the street. You know how to do this, slink about, make yourself unseen. Just keep your eye on them. Dark knit caps, plumes of smoke from their cigarettes. The black and red paint on the hull of the cargo ship. Pay attention to them. Keep you eye out for everything INCLUDING THAT TRUCK. Whew, rolled out of that one right on time.
Leaning against an old crate I try and listen in on their conversation. They talk about the usual bullshit. What they're going to do with their cut of the money after this score, the recent failure of the Kingsport Kings against the Storm City Sentinels, how if they were the big boss they would do this or that. Clutching onto my chest I try and calm myself down. I know if I give away where I am now I'd have no chance. Surprise is on my side and with my skill I know I can take these suckers out. I decide to take action as I grip the edge of the crate, flipping over it as a few bullets whiz underneath me, most certainly aimed at a peeking skull they were hoping to crack open.
I land on all fours as I push off the balls of my feet. I'm no Mary Lou Retton but I know a few moves. They keep firing their pistols as I leap off a lamp post. Back flipping over a dumpster as I run along a row of them before flipping out again. I could see the confusion in their eyes as I cartwheel close to one of the goons, kicking his gun out of his hand. Sweeping the other off his feet with a low kick I get ready to disarm the third one only to see he had long throw away his fire arm and threw a quick punch that I duck under.
Coming back I swing a quick upper cut on his chin, shattering his front two teeth. Turning around I swing my kick high knocking the second buffoon's head in. The third lackey brought his fists up as I did the same, reverting to my old school boxing training as I keep my guard up. He comes at me with a quick jab I deftly dodged as I throw a pair of right jabs right at his eye as my left comes crashing forward, breaking his guard and his nose. Seeing him stagger back I kept coming at him, right jab, left hook, right cross, before I decide to stop screwing around and spin and aim a high kick right for his face that sends him flying into the water.
Proud of myself I take a breather as I hold onto my knees, my head turning behind as I see the silver flash in the corner of my eye. Jumping straight up the harpoon comes crashing into the pier as I land on the chain tethered to it. I start to run up along its length as I see the volley of harpoons coming at me, instinct taking over as I duck, dip, hop, doing whatever I can to stop from getting speared as I feel the tightness in my chest, my legs slowing down as I try to keep track of everything, my own foot speed on the chain slowing down when all of the sudden I feel the metal tip of a harpoon dig into my chest. My prone body slowly falling into the water.
Don't You Evah
 Super Speed: supreme (rank 3)
Nerves. If you don't get nerves you shouldn't be in this game. It doesn't matter if you have rippling muscles as hard as steel that can reflect bullets off your nipples. If you're not nervous every time you go out on patrol you're either secretly suicidal or you need to go back and get your GED. Right now my heart is pacing so hard as I watch from the rooftop down at the pier bellow me. I can feel the rush of adrenaline, the scent of fear off my skin stinking the night air I bet a swarm of bees would come right now and sting the shit out of me. You try to steel yourself, you think up things that will make it all seem like it's worth doing. You get these bastards, you call the cops, that's less crack on the streets. Less shit that will pollute people's bodies. Okay Emily, you can do this. Just drop down from the fire escape. Slink through the alleyway across the street. You know how to do this, slink about, make yourself unseen. Just keep your eye on them. Dark knit caps, plumes of smoke from their cigarettes. The black and red paint on the hull of the cargo ship. Pay attention to them. Keep you eye out for everything INCLUDING THAT TRUCK. Whew, rolled out of that one right on time.
Leaning against an old crate I try and listen in on their conversation. They talk about the usual bullshit. What they're going to do with their cut of the money after this score, the recent failure of the Kingsport Kings against the Storm City Sentinels, how if they were the big boss they would do this or that. Clutching onto my chest I try and calm myself down. I know if I give away where I am now I'd have no chance. Surprise is on my side and with my skill I know I can take these suckers out. I decide to take action as I grip the edge of the crate, flipping over it as a few bullets whiz underneath me, most certainly aimed at a peeking skull they were hoping to crack open.
I land on all fours as I push off the balls of my feet. I'm no Mary Lou Retton but I know a few moves. They keep firing their pistols as I leap off a lamp post. Back flipping over a dumpster as I run along a row of them before flipping out again. I could see the confusion in their eyes as I cartwheel close to one of the goons, kicking his gun out of his hand. Sweeping the other off his feet with a low kick I get ready to disarm the third one only to see he had long throw away his fire arm and threw a quick punch that I duck under.
Coming back I swing a quick upper cut on his chin, shattering his front two teeth. Turning around I swing my kick high knocking the second buffoon's head in. The third lackey brought his fists up as I did the same, reverting to my old school boxing training as I keep my guard up. He comes at me with a quick jab I deftly dodged as I throw a pair of right jabs right at his eye as my left comes crashing forward, breaking his guard and his nose. Seeing him stagger back I kept coming at him, right jab, left hook, right cross, before I decide to stop screwing around and spin and aim a high kick right for his face that sends him flying into the water.
Proud of myself I take a breather as I hold onto my knees, my head turning behind as I see the silver flash in the corner of my eye. Jumping straight up the harpoon comes crashing into the pier as I land on the chain tethered to it. I start to run up along its length as I see the volley of harpoons coming at me, instinct taking over as I duck, dip, hop, doing whatever I can to stop from getting speared as I feel the tightness in my chest, my legs slowing down as I try to keep track of everything, my own foot speed on the chain slowly down until my eyes grow wide and I push myself to the limit.
The chain becomes red hot as I can feel my sneakers partially melt at the soles. Just as I get to speed a large harpoon just misses me as I rush onto the ship, running to the first harpoon gunner as I come at him with a rushing punch that send him flying teen feet back. My legs on fire but unable to stop as I start to run around the deck of the ship. The harpoons fire but they're all off their marks, my movements too quick for them to get a clear shot as I take them out one by one. My speed so quick it's impossible to keep up with me as I round a corner running face first into a swinging anchor that crushes my face into my skull.
The Underdog
 Reaction Speed: supreme (rank 3)
Nerves. If you don't get nerves you shouldn't be in this game. It doesn't matter if you have rippling muscles as hard as steel that can reflect bullets off your nipples. If you're not nervous every time you go out on patrol you're either secretly suicidal or you need to go back and get your GED. Right now my heart is pacing so hard as I watch from the rooftop down at the pier bellow me. I can feel the rush of adrenaline, the scent of fear off my skin stinking the night air I bet a swarm of bees would come right now and sting the shit out of me. You try to steel yourself, you think up things that will make it all seem like it's worth doing. You get these bastards, you call the cops, that's less crack on the streets. Less shit that will pollute people's bodies. Okay Emily, you can do this. Just drop down from the fire escape. Slink through the alleyway across the street. You know how to do this, slink about, make yourself unseen. Just keep your eye on them. Dark knit caps, plumes of smoke from their cigarettes. The black and red paint on the hull of the cargo ship. Pay attention to them. Keep you eye out for everything INCLUDING THAT TRUCK. Whew, rolled out of that one right on time.
Leaning against an old crate I try and listen in on their conversation. They talk about the usual bullshit. What they're going to do with their cut of the money after this score, the recent failure of the Kingsport Kings against the Storm City Sentinels, how if they were the big boss they would do this or that. Clutching onto my chest I try and calm myself down. I know if I give away where I am now I'd have no chance. Surprise is on my side and with my skill I know I can take these suckers out. I decide to take action as I grip the edge of the crate, flipping over it as a few bullets whiz underneath me, most certainly aimed at a peeking skull they were hoping to crack open.
I land on all fours as I push off the balls of my feet. I'm no Mary Lou Retton but I know a few moves. They keep firing their pistols as I leap off a lamp post. Back flipping over a dumpster as I run along a row of them before flipping out again. I could see the confusion in their eyes as I cartwheel close to one of the goons, kicking his gun out of his hand. Sweeping the other off his feet with a low kick I get ready to disarm the third one only to see he had long throw away his fire arm and threw a quick punch that I duck under.
Coming back I swing a quick upper cut on his chin, shattering his front two teeth. Turning around I swing my kick high knocking the second buffoon's head in. The third lackey brought his fists up as I did the same, reverting to my old school boxing training as I keep my guard up. He comes at me with a quick jab I deftly dodged as I throw a pair of right jabs right at his eye as my left comes crashing forward, breaking his guard and his nose. Seeing him stagger back I kept coming at him, right jab, left hook, right cross, before I decide to stop screwing around and spin and aim a high kick right for his face that sends him flying into the water.
Proud of myself I take a breather as I hold onto my knees, my head turning behind as I see the silver flash in the corner of my eye. Jumping straight up the harpoon comes crashing into the pier as I land on the chain tethered to it. I start to run up along its length as I see the volley of harpoons coming at me, instinct taking over as I duck, dip, hop, doing whatever I can to stop from getting speared as I feel the tightness in my chest, my legs slowing down as I try to keep track of everything, my own foot speed on the chain slowly down until my eyes grow wide and I push myself to the limit.
The chain becomes red hot as I can feel my sneakers partially melt at the soles. Just as I get to speed a large harpoon just misses me as I rush onto the ship, running to the first harpoon gunner as I come at him with a rushing punch that send him flying teen feet back. My legs on fire but unable to stop as I start to run around the deck of the ship. The harpoons fire but they're all off their marks, my movements too quick for them to get a clear shot as I take them out one by one. My speed so quick it's impossible to keep up with me as I round a corner running face first into a swinging anchor that crushes my face into my skull.
Written In Reverse
 Teleportation: standard (rank 1)
Nerves. If you don't get nerves you shouldn't be in this game. It doesn't matter if you have rippling muscles as hard as steel that can reflect bullets off your nipples. If you're not nervous every time you go out on patrol you're either secretly suicidal or you need to go back and get your GED. Right now my heart is pacing so hard as I watch from the rooftop down at the pier bellow me. I can feel the rush of adrenaline, the scent of fear off my skin stinking the night air I bet a swarm of bees would come right now and sting the shit out of me. You try to steel yourself, you think up things that will make it all seem like it's worth doing. You get these bastards, you call the cops, that's less crack on the streets. Less shit that will pollute people's bodies. Okay Emily, you can do this. Just drop down from the fire escape. Slink through the alleyway across the street. You know how to do this, slink about, make yourself unseen. Just keep your eye on them. Dark knit caps, plumes of smoke from their cigarettes. The black and red paint on the hull of the cargo ship. Pay attention to them. Keep you eye out for everything INCLUDING THAT TRUCK. Whew, rolled out of that one right on time.
Leaning against an old crate I try and listen in on their conversation. They talk about the usual bullshit. What they're going to do with their cut of the money after this score, the recent failure of the Kingsport Kings against the Storm City Sentinels, how if they were the big boss they would do this or that. Clutching onto my chest I try and calm myself down. I know if I give away where I am now I'd have no chance. Surprise is on my side and with my skill I know I can take these suckers out. I decide to take action as I grip the edge of the crate, flipping over it as a few bullets whiz underneath me, most certainly aimed at a peeking skull they were hoping to crack open.
I land on all fours as I push off the balls of my feet. I'm no Mary Lou Retton but I know a few moves. They keep firing their pistols as I leap off a lamp post. Back flipping over a dumpster as I run along a row of them before flipping out again. I could see the confusion in their eyes as I cartwheel close to one of the goons, kicking his gun out of his hand. Sweeping the other off his feet with a low kick I get ready to disarm the third one only to see he had long throw away his fire arm and threw a quick punch that I duck under.
Coming back I swing a quick upper cut on his chin, shattering his front two teeth. Turning around I swing my kick high knocking the second buffoon's head in. The third lackey brought his fists up as I did the same, reverting to my old school boxing training as I keep my guard up. He comes at me with a quick jab I deftly dodged as I throw a pair of right jabs right at his eye as my left comes crashing forward, breaking his guard and his nose. Seeing him stagger back I kept coming at him, right jab, left hook, right cross, before I decide to stop screwing around and spin and aim a high kick right for his face that sends him flying into the water.
Proud of myself I take a breather as I hold onto my knees, my head turning behind as I see the silver flash in the corner of my eye. Jumping straight up the harpoon comes crashing into the pier as I land on the chain tethered to it. I start to run up along its length as I see the volley of harpoons coming at me, instinct taking over as I duck, dip, hop, doing whatever I can to stop from getting speared as I feel the tightness in my chest, my legs slowing down as I try to keep track of everything, my own foot speed on the chain slowly down until my eyes grow wide and I push myself to the limit.
The chain becomes red hot as I can feel my sneakers partially melt at the soles. Just as I get to speed a large harpoon just misses me as I rush onto the ship, running to the first harpoon gunner as I come at him with a rushing punch that send him flying teen feet back. My legs on fire but unable to stop as I start to run around the deck of the ship. The harpoons fire but they're all off their marks, my movements too quick for them to get a clear shot as I take them out one by one. My speed so quick it's impossible to keep up with me as I round a corner I react to it just in time, dropping onto my knees and duck under a swinging anchor as I quickly turn around.
I see him, a lumbering seven foot man as he carries the anchor with ease. He swings it like it was a feather as he sends it crashing down into the deck as I back flip out of the way. He swinging it over his head and sends it crashing into a large beam as I side step it. His frustration is apparent on his face as I come running up to him, sending a flurry of punches at his belly before I back away from a back hand swipe sent from his free hand. Rushing past him I stand on the edge of the deck as I look at him, beaming a smile as I put my hands on my hips saying "that all you got tall dark and..."
Suddenly I feel the anchor smash into my face, all my teeth knocked out as I'm sent falling into the ocean bellow. I stop and think hard about how far back to go. My mind thinks to five seconds earlier and there I am, standing on the edge of the deck again but this time I don't taunt him. Instead I lunge at him with a flying kick. He grabs me mid air and begins to comically slam me all around the deck by my ankle. I close my eyes and think back in time, before I ran to the edge of the deck, back to when I sent a flurry of punches to his mid section and suddenly I'm back there again, wailing my fists into his belly as I see the back hand swipe come at me, not bothering to dodge it as I grab his hand, trowing him over my shoulder as I slam him down hard onto the deck, my knee pressed into his shoulder joint.
"Ok tall dark and ugly, what's the security code for the bridge."
"Ahhhh damn it you're breaking my arm!"
"You shoulder actually. Now tell me!"
"578921"
"Thanks a lot buddy." I break his shoulder anyway as he drops to the deck crawling like a baby. Time to alert the authorities I think to myself as I wonder how many do-overs it took this time to get the job done.
|
