(I am sorry)
The AI pops out the gun again
Just got a new one, so…
“In a few Minutes, an hour or so
4 mischief numbers will come, but not go
They are hidden in that has power of much,
you could say its overpowered and such”
Well, send me (private Message) the numbers when you think you have them!
AI disappears
Edit (400 comments!! Yeah!)
(lol at knight poking fun)
Clyde…just kinda shifted his weight, no longer knowing his place in the world. A hint had told him he was back in New Mombasa, but he knew that couldn’t be true. Kenya was, for the most part, still a sheet of barren land. “Um…okay…”
> 2533274856110620;403:
> (lol at knight poking fun)
(I still want to do something here. :D, I also think I might go edit OP. ops, did i just slip a hint?)
Private Stipens was a tough as nails, no-nonsense soldier. All before he took a blow to the head in a transport accident. Now suffering from amnesia, he has assumed life as a surfer, searching far and wide for the perfect wave. His misadventures had led him to a pub in New Mombasa where he has stopped in for some R&R.
In swimming trunks, ducky floatation device around his waist and a sweet pair of sunglasses, he quickly steals the gazes of the patrons of the pub. Stipens opens his arms wide open and yells
“Sup, dudes!”
(sorry if the introduction broke the theme of the RP, was having a bit too much fun with it)
A tall, young, man with the build of an olympian strode towards a Spartan Scott Edwards, who was overseeing his team worrking out. Not one for lengthy conversation or grand introductions, he reached out and patted the fellow spartan lightly on the shoulder, to get his attention, and offered a very slight smirk.
(hey guys, just a reminder, if you’re new, please check OP)
How is it halo without the halo?
> Corruptknight7 also said:
>
(I am very confused right now, is this all still in a pub?)
> 2533274894393149;409:
> How is it halo without the halo?
(Play Halo : Reach and ask the same question?)
Sam laid on the floor, gasping for air, small teardrops of pain running down his face, fogging up his glasses from being under the foot of the Elite. Joe sat against the wall, wind knocked out of him from stopping the alien’s blow. Fred was on his feet, irate, bleeding from a slight cut in the cheek.
“It isn’t our fault!” yelled Fred. “This is our life, these things just happen to us! We came here without any hostile intentions, and this is how we get treated?! We’re not the ones involved in an intergalactic war, or trying to sabotage a spaceship, or coming here with ulterior motives! We simply want to find The Book and get back home!”
Sam picked himself up off the floor, fixed his glasses, and choked back some tears. “So let’s find it, and get back home. I’ve had enough of these scheming agents, bullying aliens, and clueless newcomers. We’ve been stuck in this dratted pub for way too long, so let’s get out there and find The Book!” he exclaimed, becoming suddenly bold. The close encounter with death had pushed the timid Sam aside, and revealed one that was ready to do whatever it took to get back home. Turning to Kit, he said, “Look, you want things to be fixed? Do you want a second shot at things, and to not be let down by this plotting alien time and time again? Help us find The Book, and we can reset back to our present, in which your future will be entirely in your hands.”
“Heeyyy, I am most definitely an agent of secrets! You see this here badge, it’s made out of 100% C+ plastic and has gum glued to the back of it. It don’t get no finer than dat boys hahaha!”
“I am Sooo official… I killed Ben Ladin, yep there I said it :O!”
Steps inside
What kind of place is this supposed to be?
Looks around with a sceptical face
Walks over to the bar
Hey bar ceeper! What can you recommend?
awaits an answer
> 2533274871013718;415:
> Steps inside
> What kind of place is this supposed to be?
>
> Looks around with a sceptical face
> Walks over to the bar
>
> Hey bar ceeper! What can you recommend?
>
> awaits an answer
(The barkeeper is dead. He killed his own character off.)
My god, I’ve been here since the beginning, and I’m confused as to what’s going on.
So… checks roster
Rereads a few pages
Alright. So everybody, using the Book that the pipsqueaks (who seem highly intelligent for just pipsqueaks) brought along, was transport back in time to New Mombasa. However, Mr. Mac, being abduct by Covies is still on the Halo ring. I think.
Either way… doesn’t time travel destroy the current demension to create another? And what happen to the people who weren’t the Pub at the time…? Like… me…?
> 2533274974457747;417:
> My god, I’ve been here since the beginning, and I’m confused as to what’s going on.
>
> So… checks roster
> Rereads a few pages
> Alright. So everybody, using the Book that the pipsqueaks (who seem highly intelligent for just pipsqueaks) brought along, was transport back in time to New Mombasa. However, Mr. Mac, being abduct by Covies is still on the Halo ring. I think.
>
> Either way… doesn’t time travel destroy the current demension to create another? And what happen to the people who weren’t the Pub at the time…? Like… me…?
(The Book has special powers for plot convenience that enabled all members associated with the bar from the time The Trio came through the door till now to be transported. This is currently an alternate October 19th/20th 2552, that from that date forward will be different from the past/present you knew.)
> 2533274974457747;417:
> My god, I’ve been here since the beginning, and I’m confused as to what’s going on.
>
> So… checks roster
> Rereads a few pages
> Alright. So everybody, using the Book that the pipsqueaks (who seem highly intelligent for just pipsqueaks) brought along, was transport back in time to New Mombasa. However, Mr. Mac, being abduct by Covies is still on the Halo ring. I think.
>
> Either way… doesn’t time travel destroy the current demension to create another? And what happen to the people who weren’t the Pub at the time…? Like… me…?
(Well, one of me is. I’m writing an alternate universe Mr. Mac right now named Sgt. Mac, who is actually a UNSC soldier from Earth rather than a rebel from the colonies. Y’all will be seeing the Mr. Mac you know and love very shortly, and he will be something to re-include myself back in with.)
The street checkpoint doors opened to a complete mess of a battle.
“This is rally point alpha? Sh it.” Mr. Mac ran for the Optican advertisement for cover, being without a weapon.
“Trooper!” Yelled an officer from across the street. “Give us a hand!”
Sgt. Mac nodded. “I need a weapon sir!” The officer grabbed an MA37 Assault Rifle and threw it across the gap between himself and Mac. “Thank you sir.”
Sgt. Mac pulled up a local area map, searching for high ground to attack from. “Sir, I have a plan! I’m going to book it for the apartments over there and set up on that balcony. You keep their attention while I hit’em from behind.”
The officer sighed over the comms. “Alright soldier, get it done. Clarke out.”
In a burst of adrenaline and balls, Sgt. Mac made a beeline for an apartment door vaulting over the optican booth and running behind a jackal squad.
“Phew! Lemme lock this door…” The light turned red.
Sgt. Mac whispered to himself: “I’m coming guys, just gimme a minute.”
Mr. Mac climbed the stairs to the balcony and noticed a jackal sniper setting up it’s perch. He snuck up behind it and slit it’s throat, taking the beam rifle.
“I’m in position lieutenant!” An arc of light found it’s mark on a brute’s head melting it down to liquid brains. After several brutes fell the Covenant kill team looked behind and a jackal clicked in exclamation as its eyes made contact with Sergeant Mac’s. In less than a second it had no eyes to stare back with. The Covies already knew where he was, and promptly melted the apartment door down below with plasma.
“Sergeant!” Yelled Lt. Clarke. “You’ve got a brute squad backed by grunts headed inside your building. Get out of there ASAP! I can’t afford to lose an auxiliary unit like you.”
Sgt. Mac could here the thundering steps from down below. He needed a way out. He couldn’t retreat, or he’d be caught. The only solution was to jump.
“You gotta be kidding me.” Sgt. Mac stared down into the streets below. Clarke yelled something inaudible, and with that Sgt. Mac took the jump from third floor.
There was no sharper pain then that fall that Sgt. Mac had ever experienced in his life. Both legs had compound fractures, and he was sure his arm was broken.
“Clarke! I’m down I need help over here. My legs are worthless, and I’m not sure about my arm.”
“Negative Sergeant! We’re pinned down over here as it is. Covies just dropped off a whole Brute pack over here. Chieftains present. You’re on your own.”
Just then a blue light flickered in the sky on the nose of the Covenant Assault Carrier floating above the city. When the ship disappeared a massive shockwave threw Sgt. Mac into a wall, and a metal panel came flying right into Sgt. Mac. Everything went black.
1 Hour later…
Sgt. Mac came to. Couldn’t feel anything but shooting pain in his legs and his left shoulder. When Sgt. Mac looked to his left, he noticed the metal panel lodged into the wall, pinning him to it, where his left arm should have been. Mac’s screams of pain were unimaginable. Just when things couldn’t get any worse, they did. Another Covenant ship made a jump right into New Mombasa, but it wasn’t moving slowly nor losing it’s momentum. It was on a crash course, falling through the air in a cloud of green smoke.
“I…I can’t…”
With enough effort, Sgt. Mac wedged himself off of the panel and collapsed onto the ground. He tried crawling over to the optican booth and within about half an hour he made it over. But it was too late. The brute pack got him first. Sgt. Mac fancied the Chieftain’s hammer swing a mercy before it hit and crushed his body into a paste.
[END//TRANSMISSION: OCTOBER 19TH, 2552. MISSION END//ERROR]
Mr. Mac threw away the trooper’s eyepiece and looked back to the bar gang that had retrieved him from the Storm Covenant’s cruiser that crash-landed in New Mombasa an hour earlier.
“This guy shared my name. Shame what happened to him. Anyways, now we know what to expect in this sector of the city. We’re almost to the NMPD headquarters, we can fly a pelican to wherever we want from there.”
Mr. Mac and the bar group readied their weapons and continued their trek through the Mombasa streets.