originally posted in:The Digital Dojo
[b]Pissed Off Bastard // Dojo Courtyard // 12:54 PM // JT, Digistructed Training Targets. [/b]
[i]Footsteps signaled the incoming approach of The Techno Cowboy that day as he sprinted through the gates and kicked up dirt behind him, which landed on the brown boots he wore that matched his dark brown pants. The Marshal had his eyes trained on the first in a long series of targets, completely black figures with nothing but their fists raised as they watched JT approach. The first was met by JT's right hand colliding with his face as he spun around fully, but The Marshal spun halfway as well and took a step back, while pressing his left elbow into the throat of his now dead target. The second in the group went to place his right hand on JT's right shoulder, before JT spun and grabbed the figures wrist with his own right hand, and he punched it's head with his left mechanical hand, which carried the strength needed to completely cave in the skull of the digistructed figure.
The remaining five stared in awe at the takedown committed by this cowboy, who appeared to possess much more strength than he would ever let on. A single bead of sweat rolled down his half-charred mug and splashed itself on the white undershirt he wore beneath his brown duster, as he planted his foot on the ribcage of his target and ripped the arm off of his fallen enemy. Fake blood splattered on his duster before the crimson substance dripped from his duster, as he looked to his next enemy who was on his right.
JT dashed for his enemy with the intensity of a Viking who was midway through the heat of battle as he swung low, but his opponent jumped back. The Marshal swung for his head now, going sideways since his last blow ended up directly beside his shoulder, and the head of the target collided with the arm of his fallen brother in a hit so powerful that it would force the dummy to fall several feet to the right. The Techno Cowboy dropped the arm to the floor as it collided with the dirt, and four targets remained for JT to absolutely slaughter.
Two came in from either side of JT just then. One punched high for his face while the other tried to deliver a kick to his back. But either blow was intercepted when JT drew his twin T-29 Quantum revolvers, pointed his left at the right enemy and his right at the left enemy, and fired as two .44 rounds flew to the heads of either man, without JT even needing to look at his targets. He stared to the next of his targets as a sickening shadow was cast on his face from the brown wide-brimmed hat he wore, as he aimed the revolvers to him and fired all twelve rounds, which connected with his targets chest for the first eight, and the next two connected with either of his eyes.
The last target would be fearing for his life just then, if he were capable of feeling fear at all. JT placed either of his revolvers back in their leather holsters at his hips, as his hand snapped back and covered the onyx black forearm and blue insignia of the Cobalt Phoenix that adorned it, as six long triangular strips protruded from the hole where his hand was, before they all took place to form an industrial drill just then. The weapon spun violently as JT sprinted to his target, and he jammed the tip onto his digital enemy's stomach, and it proceeded to launch his fake entrails all around and his blood splattered all over JT's muscular body and outfit, as the drill even pierced bone and fell backwards to the ground, before fading out of existence.
JT's hand returned to its original state as he looked all around the zone of chaos he just caused, as one by one the bodes he wreaked havoc on had faded into nothing but a set of pixels before even those disappeared, leaving just a cowboy with a wide grin that stretched ear to ear. He was an insane son of a bitch truly, but he did not often get to show this angry and murderous side of him. He wouldn't kill another Dojo member, but if given the chance to, he would use their bodies as bullet sponges and sex toys for his men, lifeless or not. But thankfully he wasn't showing that insanity, unless it was time for combat. [/i]
((Open for a fight, conversation, whatever. Just know JT won't hold back due to power gaps, as I have him do for most people.))
English
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It was watching the entire thing. It. Genderless. It obviously wasn't human. Standing around 6'1, it had a silver complexion, reflective and shiny. It build was lean, well-built, but it lacked good detail. Like a contour drawing. It didn't have any facial features, not even ears, just the outline of a chin and head. It stared at you, in silence. It didn't scare the Marshal, it didn't even unnerve him. He's seem battle many times. But this...thing...it seemed...as if it was a child. Like it shouldn't be taken seriously. It looked like something out of a horror movie, but...it wasn't scary. It then began to walk towards you. It made very subtle clicks, metal to the ground. It stopped when it was in arms length of you. It stared at you, raised its hand....and poked your mechanical arm.
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[i]The arm consisted of ceramic plates on top of steel, custom-made by Cobalt Phoenix the Dojo legend himself, and given to JT in the Twilight. It was repainted to cover battle scars, but was still the same colour pattern that Cobalt had it as. JT looked to It with curiosity, but not much, because the statue of Cobalt Phoenix made relics of his a strange thing to behold. [/i]
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The figure, after poking it, began to put its entire hand on it. It poked it in different areas, lifted the fingers and moved the shoulder. Eventually, it grabbed onto the wrist and tugged.
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[i]The arm stayed firmly in place as it was still on JT's body, and eventually, he flicked his wrist and wrapped it around It's, before he had a firm grasp on his silvery wrist with his fingers against the spot where the veins should be.[/i]
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The silvery thing jumped a bit when The General planted his hand on its wrist. It stared at it. Then it poked it. "Arrrrmor?"
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[spoiler]JT = Techno Cowboy, Marshal, Frontiersman. Treyman = General, Omega. [/spoiler] "Prosthetic."
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[spoiler]Gotcha[/spoiler] "What is prosthetic?"
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"When a man loses a limb, he becomes a cripple. When he gets a fake limb to replace the old one, it's called a prosthetic. I'm a cyborg, a good part of me is made of prosthetics."
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[b][i]Elecin simply stared, in awe. He wore black combat pants, black gloves, and a loose white shirt. His blade, Thundering Skies, was sheathed on the left side of his belt. His revolver in its holster on the right. He glanced down at his revolver, wondering why he couldn't shoot like that. He always seemed to miss. And here this cowboy was, not even needing to look at his targets…. He wandered over to The Marshal. He wanted to fight those digistructed enemies; it couldn't hurt to give it a try, could it?[/i][/b]
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[i]JT looked to the figure as he placed his hands on either of his revolvers at his sides, before he spoke up. [/i]"You here for a fight?"
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"Uh… I'd like to fight those guys you just fought. I've been training non-stop since I got here, but haven't been in an actual fight yet." [b][i]He shifts awkwardly, hoping he didn't come across as a weakling.[/i][/b]
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"Came to the Dojo to better yourself, huh? Alright, let's start you off with one target." [i]JT saw the new face as one with actual potential. His story and training was already finished and he was at the apex of what he thought he could know, but this new guy was a stranger to combat by all means. It reminded JT of himself when he was younger, really. [/i]"Treyman, activate the target's again, I've got someone here looking to fight them." [i]JT said as he raised his organic hand to his right ear in order to activate a black earpiece, and after a moment, targets started to form one by one. In a row, three formed, and one stepped forwards for Elecin to strike down or shoot. [/i]
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[b][i]Elecin drew his revolver, his fingers fumbling to get a proper grip on the gun. After a second, he aimed, and fired a shot; it missed entirely, going way over the target's head.[/i][/b] "Dammit," [b][i]Elecin cursed under his breath, holstering the gun. He drew his sword, which he seemed much more comfortable with. Perhaps he was merely new to the gun; after all, he'd been training with his sword nonstop since he arrived there.[/i][/b]
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[i]JT took note of his rancid accuracy and his preferred use of the blade, and so he watched him curiously. [/i]
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[b][i]His posture, while still poor, had improved much from when he first arrived. Elecin ran forward, sword in front of him, as he sliced at the target; the slice was slow, and lacked real stopping power, however his arms and muscles were more than capable of wielding the sword. A life on a farm generally provides sufficient exercise for somebody.[/i][/b]
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[i]"Hmph, Lance and Zoren would be sad if they saw this guy." JT thought while witnessing the shit-tier strike given out by Elecin, which traveled halfway through the figure as a synthetic blood hit his blade. [/i]
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[b][i]Elecin left the sword inside of the digistructed enemy, drawing his revolver from its holster again. He aimed it at his target at point blank range.[/i][/b] "Heh, not even I can miss from this close," [b][i]He said, firing at its heart.[/i][/b]
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[i]The bullet few from the barrel as the .357 round traveled through the target, and twelve even larger bullets were fired into the air by JT as the dummy fell. [/i]"Not bad, not bad at all."
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"Th-thanks…." [b][i]Elecin knew he performed beyond poorly compared to the cowboy standing near him. He didn't know why; he was just too reluctant to take lives, even if he was facing fake targets. Even if he the real targets he might face were evil, serial killers. He thought to himself, "My goal is to save people… not to kill them…." Bur the conflict inside him was never-ending. He knew he couldn't save any lives without the will to take them.[/i][/b] ((Did the 12 bullets fired by JT kill the other two dummies?))
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((No, he shot them straight up fam.))
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((but gravity)) [b][i]Elecin rolled backwards, his sword poking his stomach.[/i][/b] "Ow!" [b][i]He yelled, getting back up. He thrusted towards the dummy on the left, his hand shaky.[/i][/b]
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[b]Stepping forward from a dusty corner and dressed in his standard attire of a basic pair of jeans, shirt, and black cloak, Ite walks forward. A fair amount of dirt and cobwebs cover his face and skin, which he pathetically attempts to wipe off, yielding barely any result. Knowing that this was not a situation to joke with, he approaches the dusted old cowboy.[/b] "Good afternoon."
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[i]JT glanced over to Ite as his entire body aside from his prosthetic shook violently and a strange hunger filled his icy blue eyes. When the Techno Cowboy spoke to the man, he carried a heavy accent to his words, which were of Texan descent. [/i]"Hey." [i]The man said with a gruffer voice than most men carried, a telltale sign of a well aged fighter from the west. [/i]
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[b]JT's eyes are met with a gaze of sadness from the lackluster blue eyes, exemplified by a crooked, hunched over posture. He takes only a deep breath.[/b] "So back to some basic training, huh?"
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"Yeah, always got to keep in good shape. You up for a fight?"