Teh Storyline.
Snow looked up at the President, or at least at the black screen that seperated them. Two men in powered armors were beside him, black with teh dark green and dark red stripes that indicated their Death Watch position. Two more stood behind him, flanking the door. Their arms were folded, and their stance was slightly loose, but they were still an imposing site. The armors were 8 1/2 feet tall, and the armor had enough power to flip a tank. Not something to trifle with. The president spoke, and Snow snapped his attention back to him. The president was wearing that odd mask that hid everything behind wolfish features. The black suit and white tie clashed with it horribly, but who was he to offer fasion advice to the President of the mighty USA, which now spanned all of North America and half of South America.
Choose one. And only one. As the first platoon leader, you get first pick. The rest of your team will also only get one piece. Choose.
Snow turned his attention back down to the various pieces of armor that were laid in the odd styrofoam before the most powerful desk in the world. Apparently they were experimental pieces, and currently the most powerful pieces in existence. There was a complete set of armor, but only for one person. Each man in his platoon was to test a piece. Then, he'd report the results, back to the President. He smiled, a direct line of power, how nifteh for him. He studied the pieces of armor, made of some material called Mieth. He shrugged, and turned aburptly, gesturing to one of the huge armors.
You, come here. Stand two feet in front of me. Now.
The behemoth moved, slowly but unstoppable, without even looking at the President. He had good reason, Snow had immense power. The armor came to a stop, and moved to the loose position of attention, staring straight ahead.
React naturally.
Suddenly, Snow was in motion. He flowed to the right of the armor before it could even bring it's arms out from behind its back. It was impossible to tell teh gender behind those huge plates of armor and that black facemask, not that it would have changed anything. He balanced for an instant on the ball of his left foot and twisted his body to the right, flinging his right foot up. His booted heel made solid contact with the chest plate of the armor, driving it back a step. SnowFire recovered and flowed away with an all too fluidal grace, and halted the behemoth as it recovered and started to draw it's weapon.
Cease. At attention. Stay at that position.
The behemoth moved to obey, and Snow flowed to an easy position before it, replicating its stance. He addressed the President suddenly.
Honorable President, how many of these armors do you have to spare?
There was silence for a second, and Snow's enhanced ears barely caught the sound of weaopns returning to sheaths and placed back in holding position. Then he got his answer.
Do as you wish. You know my reso-
Snow ignored the rest. He had what he wanted, and cut the President off with a gesture. No one else would have dared such a thing, but he didn't care. He had a job to do. He looked at the facemask, and idly wondered if he was about to kill a woman. He shrugged, and struck, the first two knuckles crashing against the facemask. It broke through with a resounding crack, and the hand continued on as he extended two fingers. The eyeball was always the messy part, and he despised the feeling of his fingers sinking into it and past, into the brain. The armor suddenly froze, and then collasped. Snow flowed away easily, his fluid grace carrying him to the other armor, which he wiped away the gore on.
The current body armor is sufficient. I'll take the goggles. Or shades, or whatever they are.
Choose one. And only one. As the first platoon leader, you get first pick. The rest of your team will also only get one piece. Choose.
Snow turned his attention back down to the various pieces of armor that were laid in the odd styrofoam before the most powerful desk in the world. Apparently they were experimental pieces, and currently the most powerful pieces in existence. There was a complete set of armor, but only for one person. Each man in his platoon was to test a piece. Then, he'd report the results, back to the President. He smiled, a direct line of power, how nifteh for him. He studied the pieces of armor, made of some material called Mieth. He shrugged, and turned aburptly, gesturing to one of the huge armors.
You, come here. Stand two feet in front of me. Now.
The behemoth moved, slowly but unstoppable, without even looking at the President. He had good reason, Snow had immense power. The armor came to a stop, and moved to the loose position of attention, staring straight ahead.
React naturally.
Suddenly, Snow was in motion. He flowed to the right of the armor before it could even bring it's arms out from behind its back. It was impossible to tell teh gender behind those huge plates of armor and that black facemask, not that it would have changed anything. He balanced for an instant on the ball of his left foot and twisted his body to the right, flinging his right foot up. His booted heel made solid contact with the chest plate of the armor, driving it back a step. SnowFire recovered and flowed away with an all too fluidal grace, and halted the behemoth as it recovered and started to draw it's weapon.
Cease. At attention. Stay at that position.
The behemoth moved to obey, and Snow flowed to an easy position before it, replicating its stance. He addressed the President suddenly.
Honorable President, how many of these armors do you have to spare?
There was silence for a second, and Snow's enhanced ears barely caught the sound of weaopns returning to sheaths and placed back in holding position. Then he got his answer.
Do as you wish. You know my reso-
Snow ignored the rest. He had what he wanted, and cut the President off with a gesture. No one else would have dared such a thing, but he didn't care. He had a job to do. He looked at the facemask, and idly wondered if he was about to kill a woman. He shrugged, and struck, the first two knuckles crashing against the facemask. It broke through with a resounding crack, and the hand continued on as he extended two fingers. The eyeball was always the messy part, and he despised the feeling of his fingers sinking into it and past, into the brain. The armor suddenly froze, and then collasped. Snow flowed away easily, his fluid grace carrying him to the other armor, which he wiped away the gore on.
The current body armor is sufficient. I'll take the goggles. Or shades, or whatever they are.