This is Their Story: Restoration

Joeyray's Bar
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My eyes brighten and turn my head towards the woman. "Yes, please. That would be lovely!" I politely answer. If I got some painkillers I would be able to move a little more freely without pain stopping me, and it's not like the bone shard would deal to much more damage, right?
Kristina tap around her belt, drawing a syringe. She checks the color of the liquid inside, and returns it, muttering "Wrong color." She carries out a visual and touch search for another syringe. She draws another one, and nods, before stepping toward the person. She stops, and looks at him for a second before asking "Do you want to inject it yourself, or would you be fine with me doing it, Mr.....?"
[Zeb]
I chuckle and shake my head;
"You'll get none from me... In fact, gun maintenance sounds like an excelent way to pass our little meteor shower here.
I say, sitting down on a bench and unclipping my gun.
[Oraia]
I set my MRE to the side. "Yeah that sounds like a good idea but not so much a rifle for me." I pop a few hidden clips and pull off the gauntlet on my left arm off. I open it and find a mechanism that would allow an actual sword hilt to be drawn if I wished. "Hmm." I get to work realigning the emitter matrix not even sure what I was doing as I work deftly. Every once in a while I reach over and grab a quick bite of my food.
"Just call me Nathe. I'll inject myself," I answer her and take it from her grasp, "I assume it's supposed to go into a vein?" Before she answers I am already beginning to reach for the release on my left gauntlet.

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"Good." Oswald nods his heads and goes sit down, pulling his massive modded BOSUN FN92 off of his back along side with a small cloth from a bag at his side and some polisher with it. Dipping the cloth in he begins his work of stroking the rifle with the wet cloth.
"Yep. Just find a vein and inject. It'll hurt for a while, but I'm certain you already knew that." Kristina looks around, and adds "Kristina. Before you ask, if you planned to ask in the first place."
"F92. I've always liked those guns, aside from the bulky size of the gun." I say examining it. My tone suddenly becomes monotonous, and analytic. "Large, un-needed weight for the power it gives out. Shade Gheist weapons such as the SGMR-14 are light, deadly, and efficient."
"Thank you, I'm sure the pain from this is a better choice than that of my shoulder anyways." Finishing the unclasping of my gauntlet I hear her say her name, "Oh, that was rather rude of me. It hadn't even crossed my mind." I punch the needle into the most prominent vein on my wrist hurriedly, the cold already having started to sting my hand. Pulling it out after pumping the pain killer into my bloodstream I grimace, it was worse than I thought, but it would be better than the shoulder acting up. Quickly I shove the gauntlet back onto my arm and clasp it back into place, the mechanism doing the rest to seal it off from the cold and get i back into the controlled environment. I begin doing a few muscle exercises, trying to get the blood in my veins pumped back to my heart more quickly so I could begin moving without worry of pain.

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Oswald cocks his eye at the man who just insulted his weapon. "That's weird. But, uh, I guess you've never heard of a sniper rifle before. Or its purpose. Besides, this thing has cut down the unnecessary weight put upon it from CMC Armour needs and made use of any spare space to give this mother !@#$er more stopping power, and to improve the targeting system that is used to detect wind, elevation, etc, to just give me the point in which I need to fire to get a shot on a specific area. Whatever this Shade Gheist %^-* is obviously doesn't apply to my rifle." The marksman didn't even stop cleaning his weapon during the whole ordeal. "Only problem with this thing is that its age makes it need regular calibrations."
Weapons maintenance... I started to reach for my pistol when I stop, my fingers about to wrap around the grip, reconsidering how this could be approached. My body is a weapon, that much I can recall. Rather than run maintenance on a pistol I haven't fired once yet when I haven't practiced any of the move sets that have come to mind... Shifting my hand from my pistol to my scythe while resting the other on the other scythe, I unhooking it from my waist and flick the both open, the blades humming from the sudden stop.

Taking a deep breath in, holding it to the count of ten, and releasing it, I focus on an invisible opponent, sliding into a ready stance, the blades of the scythes crossed behind me. Letting the invisible opponent, holding a long sword, strike first, the blow an overhead strike. Grinning somewhat stupidly, the left hand scythe lashes out, knocking the blade to the side as the right hand comes around at a rapid pace, turning me into a bladed whirlwind that turns the foe into a pile of meat. Then more come into view, various melee and ranged weapons in their hands, and I launch into a flurry, the first enemy dismembered by a horizontal whirlwind similar to the first, the next by a death X. The third received a crossed parry then used as a bullet shield, thrown into his allies and then his friends cut in half by well placed slices at their midriff.

Moving onto another group, I slice downwards in a diagonal with both blades, cutting the first one down, then spin under the swing of the next, the scythes moving by muscle memory as I spin them then bring them together, the Reaper's scythe forming from them as the rest of the group meets a gruesome end. Spinning the scythe but keeping the two parts combined, I ram the smaller blade on the end into a final invisible foe, this one with a shotgun. Holding for a moment, I spin the scythe back around and hold it behind me, the blade going straight out to the rear.

Breathing heavily, I realize everyone had been watching me and I smirk again. "So, anyone up for a bit of sparring?"
"Like I said, psycho." Oswald mumbles, his gaze returning to his rifle, beginning to pull out a pipe brush out of his little maintenance bag and runs it down through the barrel.
The meteors have notably begun to stop, only a few clinks here and there are heard.

IC:
"Well, the shower has appeared to stop, I could perhaps take up on your offer."
Don rolls his eyes, shifting his weight so he leans on the wall.

"Sparring? I was hoping to figure out what's going on."
Holding my pose, I glance over at the man wearing a cloak and shrug slightly, slowly relaxing and bringing my two weapons back into separate pieces. "No one remembers much at this point, something none of us can do much about anyways. We all decided to do weapons maintenance and my body, as I can't speak for the others, is as much a weapon as my scythes or pistol. All those simply serve as an extension of my person." Folding the weapons and replacing them on my waist, I chuckle. "Based on my muscle memory, I'm rather fond of fighting."

Approaching the door and glancing out, I note the lack of meteors falling and begin to work it open. "Oh, and the name's Jerus Joranis. Pleasure to meet you all."
[Zeb]
Giving my rifle a once-over, I clip it back onto my belt. Getting up, I head over to Jerus and give him a hand with the door;
"So.. I take it none of us really remember anything?..."
I ask between puffs of breath as we wrestle the door open.
Kristina watches Nathe exercise, and asks "All set? I know of a group that were near a ship. With the falling rocks, they may have taken cover in the ship."
"Not that is important to why any of us are here." Letting out a grown, I pull harder. "Maybe we should have just blocked it off."
Don momentarily halts the task of examining his stun knuckles.

"I for one," he says, looking up, "would like to know a little more about myself than some fragmented memories and my name."

He goes back to fiddling with his utility belt and weapons, and that word continues to bounce around in his head.

A hero... That can't be me.\ I'm not brave or courageous or anything else that a hero should be. I'm just scared. Scared because I don't know who I am, or what happened to this world, or even what's going on...

Rob jerks his head up, realizing something.

"Or, wait, I want to know where we are too. And why there's stuff falling from the sky. Does anyone have any idea as to what's going on?"
I nod and begin to stride forward, much faster than I had been earlier. "I'm assuming that the object over there is the ship?" I ask her, gesturing my hand in the direction of the dark shape not-so-far-off in the distance.

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"I do." Oswald says, beginning to pull out a little tiny glass vial and a paintbrush to go along with it. "Life and mother nature are being absolute !@#$%es as always. Not that I can blame them, it's probably in their job descriptions."
"Can't say I don't agree with that." I say getting up and helping with the door. After a while it slowly budges until it's open enough for us to take a step outside. The sun is beginning to peak up from the horizon, a light, glistening orange cascading against the white snow. A beautiful sight for a so far dark world.
[Oraia]
I finish up with fixing my warp blade and snap it back in place. I focus for a moment as I hold my wrist up in front of me and a three foot green blade springs from my wrist with a snap-hiss. "Well so that is what that does." I let the blade dissipate before getting up, grabbing my rifle and following the others out of the wreck.

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