A Kitty Pryde spin-off movie...what the hell is going on lol
The_Ghostshell's forum posts
Ishmael briefly touched his finger to his covered ear as he received the Noir Rose's transmission. Avalon had spared little expense in its immediate response to the humanitarian crisis, deploying aid and resources. Establishing a temporary medical and refugee center on the outskirts of town, behind a newly formed line of defense. Courtesy of the National Guard. The makeshift squad of unlikely saviors had succeeded in containing the bulk of devastating chaos to within the city limits, which in turn had allowed for a delayed reaction by the United States as they scrambled to respond with appropriate measure.
Military drones and local news choppers bravely sought to capture the vivid imagery, inching closer and closer to the point of no return. But they were immediately cut in half by the swarming Striker drones of the Imperium. Ishmael tried to visually digest the overwhelming siege but the sheer magnitude of power on display was simply too much for any normal man to compartmentalize.
All he could manage were momentary snapshots. His Talon performing every aerial trick in the book as he raced across the skyline with a full compliment of Striker's on its Six. The scores of herded humans being loaded up like livestock. Beams of energy being fired in every direction. Robotic soldiers armed with weapons beyond the scope of human imagination.
If one were to stop and think about it too deeply they would have become paralyzed with anchoring fear. "Act and react." the Ghostshell thought with motivating intuition. Subtly shifting his attention as the 8th Wonder launched an electrical surge which had hopefully opened up the window of opportunity he had been waiting for. Others had already begun the deadly mission of rescuing the human hostages in line, and thus far, with stealth based success. But as the spring loaded muscles in Ishmael's legs readied to fire, he hesitated and looked up as a voice rained down on his position.
Exploding away from the wall with a dazzling leap the Ghostshell contorted his body in mid-air. Turning while falling down and away, his left hand sidearmed a grenade towards the wall and the femme fatale who had taken him by surprised. Simultaneously the Last Son of Gothic quick-drew his Taran Tactical customized Glock 34 and fired a single shot towards the bridge of the bitches nose. Before violently landing flat on his back on the roof of a run down Chevy Silverado.
Instantly knocking the wind out of his lungs causing him to grossly gasp. Pure survival instincts promoting him to immediately roll of its crushed roof and fall further to the ground. The impact kicking up a subtle gust of dirt before he slipped under the truck in an effort to capture his lost breath and composure.
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