Snippet #2704627

From where he was, perched betwixt the decorative railing of the Artisan Building, he could /just/ make out the end of the west district skyline. He could see where this place of liberal arts and literature ended, and where the sprawling megalopolis of the district capital started. What a view. You couldn't even make out the debauchury from here. Probably how the scholars liked it. He thought. Easier to separate the sin from the learning like that. Green grass and an impressive architecture. Green grass for him was a nice place to lay down, and have a drink in good company. Also a great place to get a clear shot on a target. Easy to target in fields, great duality. This elevated position was for his own safety, or so he had been told. Something about strength and lightning. A God in a machine. He wasn't paying attention. He had put a bullet in one Wanderer, and his newfound doubts wouldn't stop him from putting a bullet in another. Makorai caught the tail end of Knight Commander Botrelle's skirt twirl.

Can't take the city out of the girl, right?

"Yesss yesss Knight Commander Lulu , Viceroy Varren this dude." Chuckling, he re adjusted the the sight on his scope, watching Rick and Lulu phase in and out of focus. The window he was looking through was a large one, and by his calculations when and if they did leave, his blind spot would only last a second. "Hm." A quarter mile didn't justify the use of a scope from Makorai's perspective. Iron sights would have been more then efficient to land a kill shot, but he had be tasked with watching them first. Their exchange had him feeling like a voyeur more then a sniper. Like he was watching future lovers during their first meeting, both still figuring eachother out. Still trying to see where the hirzon ended, and the boundaries begun.


The young man nonchalantly checked the 'non lethal' rounds he'd been instructed, rather strictly, to use by the quartermaster. A few very lethal, depleted uranium rounds had been mixed in by accident. Don't drink and load kids. "Hmm?" Makorai watched as a third body walked into the mix. A rather mournful looking fellow with an air of self importance that came from just truly not giving a fuck about much anymore. The sniper related to that feeling. He acted on it too, by biting the top off of a small clay flask, and quickly sipping the contents. There was a very strict policy against drinking while on duty, one that was no doubt, compounded by the fact he was drinking during a high risk situation. Makorai, like this mounrful bastard, didn’t give a fuck.


“Mmm..Mmmm, Ronin hasn’t even noticed Tall Red and Firey, back there. He’s keeping his eye on that carnivorous snake pit.”

A few seconds later, and Ronin was..on his knees.


“Wow..she worked him down to his knees already I figured a fella would be a bit starved outhere in the Wasteland but gattdamn.”

Makorai touched a finger to his earpiece. All this time ands he had forgotten to switch it on.


"Otherwise, get your arrogant ass on the goddamn floor in the next ten seconds and or I'll be hauling it out of the doors and branding your face like I did the last one of your gang that pissed me off."-Kora

Makorai had been impressed she had stuffed Mr Great Hair so resolutely. Outdid that headshot he scored on the other one with the flippy hair and the dragon wings.

The sniper touched the earpiece, broadcasting his message to all deployed Erubescian troops.

“Yeah, and tell him if he moves I’ll put a bullet in his head like I did dragon boy.”
On second thought..
“Or..or don’t. That might just piss him off. Make him uncooperative. Scratch that.”

“Or just say it, I mean,”

Makorai took another large gulp of his bottle.

“Totally your call Red.”