Difference between revisions of "2767/WMAT BQ1 Reker vs Richard Stadler"

Latest revision as of 15:09, 12 August 2015

Richard Stadler (300) has posed:
Richard Stadler stood at the Arena's edge, looking out onto the cold wasteland in front of him. wind whipping through his clothing that had to be, covered with some cold-weather equipment. "You know, I think I killed some cat here last year. Was it last year? I'm sure it was." He notes, looking over to one of the women that's next to him. Fleece hadn't /quite/ the foresight to bring something heavier, so her teeth were chattering enough outside the tent to make her glasses rattle off her nose. Her hands at least had gloves on, but given the time it had taken her to work on the rifle at her knees, those glasses were probably needed to see.

"I-I think it was, because I h-h-had to get all t-those ceramic plates after-" She chatters about, before there's a world weary sigh from Declere on Rick's other side, who stands up, unzips a kit, whips out a thermal blanket, and tosses it over to Fleece, whose bundled happily in it inside of 2 seconds. "Yeah, because it was only ceramic plate. Boss, you get shot at enough. And I fucking care enough to ask why you're doing it because of a fucking compeititon this time?" Stadler looks over, slightly mirthful. "Besides the motorcycle-" He's interrupted with a squeal, "DIBS! OH, Dibs on the first ride!" Fleece says, before handing the 416 over to Rick after a final adjustment. "Besides the motorcycle, there's always the money. Lord knows there's enough operations that need doing black budgets can't handle. Not to mention showing the world that the United States Army isn't a pushover in any conflict."

Charging handle's pulled back, chamber examine, action tested, before he nods, and reaches into his combat webbing for a clip. It's slapped in, and the charging handle is released, sending it forward with a *clack*. DeClere gives a standard eyeroll. "Just don't get shot up too much. We might have more rounds of these, and you've seen how packed that stadium gets. I wouldn't be suprised if-" She starts, before looking back to Rick. "Wait, are we here because you're paranoid enough to beleive-"

Stadler turns around to face her, looking silently, until she trails off. "Fuck me." She mutters. "I'm paranoid to beleive it, too. Don't get knocked out in the first round, then." She says. Fleece goes, 'OH!' and quickly pats around her blanketed self, before tossing Rick a Ka-BAR. "Just in case! WoooHoo!" She yells out, as Rick slides it into his kit. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Quartermaster. I'll be just a bit. From there," A point to the battlefield he's currently walking toward, and then towards the New-U station. "Or there!"

And it's off to the center of the arena, where Reker is waiting.

Reker (631) has posed:
    The WMAT arena is the height of anticipation as the match start time approaches. For his part, Reker has actually somehow managed to drive a JLTV into the arena, and has it parked at the center of the combat field. He is sitting on the hood of it, tossing a knife up and down in his hand, letting it go up, twirl around, and then catching it. It's a rather big knife.

    He's looking out across the field as Stadler comes on out, and the Marine grins a bit as he hops off of the hood. He swipes his hand down and presses a couple of buttons on the menu he brings up, making the vehicle vanish in a burst of voxels, as he moves towards Stadler.

    "Hey there, Captain. Listen, no hard feelings, okay? I'm not trying to embarass you in front of your soldiers or your daughter, but you know I'm not going easy on you." He does offer his hand out towards Rick, however, to give him a hearty handshake before the match begins. Once Stadler takes the handshake, though, he'll move back over to his side and stand ready.

Richard Stadler (300) has posed:
Stadler moves to take Reker's prooffered hand. pumping it twice when he reaches him. "So long as we keep this professional, I don't see how we should have any hard feelings. I survived a match last year, though, so I'm hoping I'll come out on top here. Best laid plans, though. And I do appreciate you making that vehicle disspear; I didn't bring one of my own, and I'd hate to have to send /those/ two out." He points back to the small tent in the cold plains, where DeClere looks annoyed and Fleece cheerily waves at the glance.

" He tales a step back. "We can agree on weapons on hand, in this case. No fire missions from aircraft or artillery, no drone strikes. Just man portable." He says. "Agreed?" He notes, hand on his rifle's grip, held in a tactical position. He's obviously expecting things to start as soon as Reker says so.

Reker (631) has posed:
    "Alright, just what we have on hand." Reker says, as he gets back to where he is set up. What Stadler probably doesn't know is Reker always has everything on hand, even his truck. But he'll keep this fight fair, and stick to his guns, so to speak.

    Once Stadler is ready, Reker is quick to move, as he draws his 1911 Operator from it's holster, and quickly raises the handgun up into both hands, pulling the trigger and firing off a quick shot at Stadler, not wanting to give the wily veteran a chance to act first. Control the speed of the fight.

Richard Stadler (300) has posed:
Stadler stands where he is, on his side of the aisle. The amount of gear he was carried was certainly concerning. It was heavy, but needed, and even now he was thinking about how fast all those seemingly endless supply of munitions he was carrying was going to run dry. Well, he's have to solve it before he was out of ammo. Still. His hand moves down to the Hi-Power at his thigh. If he was looking to conserve the good stuff-

Here we go. The pistol draw does take him by suprise, the single shot cracking in the air as attempts to dive out of the way. the bullet moves and cuts through clothing, nicking him on the arm, as his own hand grasps for the pistol he had just been looking at, pulling it out and firing. He uses a few shots, but none of them aimed as precisely as he could. It was to keep Reker's head down so he couldn't use that very effective pistol aganist him before he could reach cover.

Reker (631) has posed:
    The shot from Stadler is a lot more accurate, and it strikes Reker in the chest. A bright red mark appears on him, and his health bar drops visibly. He grunts as he feels the impact, and quickly starts to move, scrambling off to one side as he fires a couple more shots, to try to get Richard to take cover. Reker's bullets still feel like bullets, even if they're just digital data. He should have been able to react to Stadler's bullet line.

Richard Stadler (300) has posed:
Oh, Stadler is trying to get to cover. Perhaps it was unfair to be using actual bullets when the enemy was sending packets of digital data this way, but another hit, this time on a thigh while he's rushing to cover causes him to grunt and drag it clear into a rock. A quick examination of it shows what type of 'bullet' it was. "Feels fucking real enough." He whispers to himself, removing the partially expended clip, checking the amount of ammo, and, after a moment, sliding it back into the pistol. He needed to get closer. They both had rifles, but he knew how to make accurate shots, and that would be easier as they closed. It was a gamble, but he was willing to risk it.

After a deep breath and a quick test of his leg, he's up again, pistol tracking Reker's position as he keeps pulling the trigger, firing off the rest of the magazine before dashing to another piece of cover.

Reker (631) has posed:
    The second time that Stadler goes to shoot at him, this time he spots the red line coming towards him and dives out of the way, rolling along the ground and ducking behind a rock, "Shit. Okay." He knows he has exactly five rounds left in the magazine of his 1911, so he can get a few more shots in before he has to reload.

    Rolling out from behind cover again, he comes up to a knee and fires two more shots at Stadler. He thinks the soldier is coming into close range, and if that's the case, he probably has something very dangerous to use in very close ranges. Shotgun, maybe. Reker will have to be careful.

Richard Stadler (300) has posed:
Again, sliding back into cover, clip ejecting from his pistol, as he loaded a fresh one. He had to have hoped that he at least caused him to be a bit more cautious, because those rounds didn't seem to have done a damned thing. And he was painfully (as in, feeling a .45 ACP slug slam against the vest at his stomach painfully) aware that Reker was using less ammo than he was. The undead were so much easier; it was just running through head shots like a factory producing them. And they didn't shoot back. Most of the time.

He looked down at the rifle in front of him. All right. A quick peek over cover. One more time, and he'd better actually make this count. Again, over the top. And, again, he's firing the pistol toward Reker. No ammo conservation, this time. It was a longer trip, though, so he's out of ammo by the time he does manage to reach the next rock.

Well, if he does. He was estimating the rate, here.

Reker (631) has posed:
    This time there's too many bullet lines to avoid, Reker tries to evade the ones he can, but he still takes a few shots, starting to watch health bar dip down further and further. He finally dives for cover, he can only stand in the open so long with someone as skilled as Stadler is.

    "Damnit. Okay Reker, get your head in the game." He swaps magazines on the 1911 and then holsters it, as he swipes his menu open and changes his loadout a bit. He pulls the SR-47 out and then pops up from behind his cover. He has a pretty good idea of where Stadler would be taking cover based on the direction he was running. A grenade should flush the Captain out.

    Pulling one of the grenades from his belt, he thumbs the priming button and lobs it overhanded towards Stadler's rock. At the very least it should get him out of cover.

Richard Stadler (300) has posed:
All right, at least he was in cover. And he could hit something. Though, the distance had been closed... and that means things should be changing. If he could keep him bunkered, that meant continuining to advance. He moves to holster the pistol to his side after loading another fresh mag and sending the slide home, before gripping the rifle itself. He might be able to penetrate rock-

Stadler's subconscious has just enough time to identify the grenade that goes bouncing over his cover. Not enough time to do anything about it, given that he was certain Reker was someone who was going to cook the grenade off. So he dives, as it explodes, the loud sound causing his vision and ears to be overwhelmed, yelling just a little.

The worst part now was that he was out of cover and turned around... but he might get lucky as his hand feels for his belt, and then pulls a cylninder of his own off, pulling the pin and popping the arming handle.

The grenade might not be as accurate, and there was a lot of wind, but it does at least start guttering CS gas in Reker's general direction. And Stadler didn't think he saw a gas mask.

Reker (631) has posed:
    CS Gas is never fun, even if you've been exposed to it plenty of times. The gas flows out around Reker, and he instantly sees a debuff icon appear on his status bar. He'll have to get ouf of the gas or he'll keep taking a DOT and he really doesn't want to deal with that.

    He moves out of the gas as quick as he can, though now he has his rifle out. As he emerges from the gas, the debuff remains, obscuring his vision and making it harder to hit his target. He takes aim at where Stadler is, however, and squeezes the trigger, firing a quick burst of 7.62mm rounds at his opponent. Looks like Reker has decided to ramp it up a bit.

Richard Stadler (300) has posed:
Of course by the time Stadler does reach the next bit of cover (or just /move/), he's realizing that the tear gas was a stupid move. A bit effective, in this caase, but rather stupid; he didn't know if the opponent he was facing had developed a tolerence for it. It's what he would have done. He was moving, though, aganist fire, feeling the SOviet rounds kick him in the shin armor, bruisng the skin beneath (and in one case, where it goes clear through the soft flesh.

There's a call from the sidelines of, 'HEY! USE A REAL KALASHNIKOV!' from Fleece, as Stadler manages to pull his own rifle around. The fire selector is switched to three round bursts, and he's firing back. Hopefully with a bit more precision than Reker, because he had to take the gloves off, here.

Reker (631) has posed:
    The yell from the sidelines makes Reker glance towards Fleece, "This is better! Best of both worlds!" He yells back at her, though as soon as he does that he turns back to Stadler in time to catch a bunch of red lines aiming at him. He ducks to the left and takes a shot in the right shoulder, thankfully the full burst didn't hit him.

    He grunts as he lays on the ground, though he turns the weapon back towards Stadler and switches his own fire selector to semi, using the holographic sight to try to pull up a headshot. A headshot should do a lot of damage to Stadler, if not take him down outright

Richard Stadler (300) has posed:
The call comes back from the sidelines. "No, it isn't! It's building a ammunition type into a platform that wasn't made for it and you haven't even-" She's not very audible after DeClere stands up and clamps her hand over Fleece's mouth. Stadler, for his part, really don't hear a lot of it (something about large amounts of gunfire and the distraction of a data packet slaming aganist the rock about an inch above his ear). But he gets enough for him to yell out, "Sergeant! Not the goddamn time!"

He really should return headshot with head shot, but, still... he /was/ using real rounds. And things weren't that desperate... well, yet. So he settles for popping out of cover, lining his own sights down to Reker's center mass, and pulling the trigger twice. Six rounds were all he had left in the clip, anyway.

Reker (631) has posed:
    The bullets all make contact with Reker and knock him backwards, his healthbar dropping rapidly as all six rounds do their job. He quickly scrambles for cover and once he's secured, has to focus. He tries to shake off the injury so he can turn this around. Can't give up so quickly.

    "Nice shot!" He yells out to Stadler, "Really caught me off guard with that one!" He checks his ammo and then switches back to automatic, turning around from his cover and opening fire again, unleashing a full barrage of ammo back at Stadler.

Richard Stadler (300) has posed:
Back behind cover, quickly, as the rounds start to fly his direction again. Another shot running two close to his face, blood streaming down a cut at his temple, feeling wet next to the ear. "Damn it." He mutters, before calling back out. "Thank you! Whatever you're shooting is painful as hell!" He remains under cover for a moment, reaching into his pack to pull out a set of gauze, pressing it aganist the gash and typing it in place. The ripped pain in his leg, he could deal with, and that was pressure on his armor, but he couldn't get blood in his eyes.

The clip's ejected from the rifle, and he loads a fresh one. Loudly. Lord, who wouldn't be expecting that. He grunts, moving his bruised leg and reaching to the holster at it's hip, drawing the rechambered Webley from it, and cocking the hammer. "I'm full of suprises!" He says, jamming the rifle up top over the cover, and pulling the trigger. After three pulls, he pops out to the left quickly, attempting to line up Reker in the old revolver's Iron sights, before firing a .454 British magnum round toward the man's right leg. He didn't know how bad those bullets in the chest were, but he would feel better if they were the same, mobility wise.

Reker (631) has posed:
    It's a good thing for Reker that he's not going to have his leg blown clean off by that magnum round. However it's still going to hurt, as he takes all of the shots dead on, his health bar dropping rapidly into yellow, hovering dangerously close to red. He falls backwards and lands on his ass, the impact enough to take him down.

    "Okay, I was holding off on this, but I don't think I have much choice now!" He drops the SR-47 and it vanishes into voxels, before he pulls out something else. This is a weapon Stadler may or may not know, the Heavy Counter Assault Rifle. This one's fitted with several attatchments and a wicked looking paintjob. It also has an odd red glow around the barrel.

    Getting back to his feet, Reker levels the rifle at Stadler and pulls the trigger, aiming to let the Devestator live up to its name as it unleashes incindiary .30-06 rounds at his opponent in a blistering hail of digital lead.

Richard Stadler (300) has posed:
Oh, that was just /perfect/. Seriously, it was. Rick would be the type to complain about doing things with tech high enough that it removed the work and thought of weapon selection out of it. But the weapon is one that seemed... well placed. And rather large. And /very/ painful, as the rounds slam aganist his armor, turning ceramic into paste and melting Nomex. "Fuck! Just.... Fleece!" He's yelling back to her, reaching into his gear and grabbing a pair of pliers, quickly grabbing the rounds as he pulls them out.

"Are you okay? OH! I take back what he said about him! That one's really nice! It's like a smaller BAR! I take back everything I said about him being mean! Can we get some? Can we?"

Stadler looks at one of the melting, deformed rounds tossed to the ground. Goddamn it, that was .30-06. He really needed to fine the time to look at the newer weapon systems these days. Beautiful weapon system. And rather... distressing. Because he hadn't thought to lug a BAR into the battlefield to offer a counter.

If it was a means needed to cause some fire, he couldn't afford to go half measure. The armor had stopped melting (well, that, and the painful burning sensaton and smell of torched skin indicating that something else had stopped burning too), but it was infinitly weaker because of it. He had to wrap this up .He had one ace in the hole, but he wasn't ready to use it yet. Battlefield needed to be prepped. Which means Reker needed to be out in the open, backdropped with a solid surface.

The grenade sails off in it's arc, exploding near Reker. In a shower of white phosphourous.

Reker (631) has posed:
    Reker can't help but smirk a bit as Fleece seems to enjoy his gun, "Don't worry, I'll let you get a closer look later!" Reker calls out to her, totally missing the grenade indicator as the WP grenade lands next to him. He turns to look at it just as it begins to burst, turning and catching most of it along his side.

    While he doesn't feel pain in the traditional sense, the DOT indicator pops up, the WP spreading across him and the damage ticking off quick. There's no real way to get it off of himself in the traditional sense, so he has to wait for the timer to run down.

    Reker has to focus on the fight, and so he reloads the weapon, the barrel glow changing from red to orange, as he shoulders the weapon again.

    "This one's special though. Something to keep in mind." He grins at Richard, as he pulls the trigger, this time firing explosive rounds from the weapon, instead of incindiary ones. The HCAR thumps each round out in chorus.

Richard Stadler (300) has posed:
If there was one thing he really needed to do, it was get that man away from that gun. Hard to do when someone had access to hammer space, but it was doing enough damage to his slightly seared flesh that it had just become a nessecity. The burns weren't helped by the rock chips landing on him, one of them dug into his shoulder. That and the damned ringing in his ears.

He can't hear much, but when he looks up, he sees it's still burning... everywhere but on Reker. "How the /hell/!" He says, fucking back down and quickly unslinging a weapon. Different world, different rules. He should remember that. And make sure he uses the one weapon he had in this one situation.

There's another pin pulled, the cardboard tube extending with a click, and, after checking his blast back, he'll pop out of cover again, sending the LAW in a streak of smoke toward Reker.

He only had one of those, however. And he was almost certain Reker had a dozen.

Reker (631) has posed:
    The weapon clicks empty and Reker goes to reload it, when his opponent ducks behind cover. He can hear the click of the tube opening over the wind of the battlefield, and he frowns.

    Indeed, a moment later Stadler has an anti-tank launcher, and he's firing it at Reker. The Marine dives out of the way, or at least tries to. Probably looks like something out of an action movie as the rocket impacts and the shockwave sends him flying. He crashes and rolls, smoldering, health bar visibly in the red.

    Reker's not moving, but he's not dead either it seems. His health bar is low, and his vision is turning red as he gets closer to going down. He rolls over onto a sitting position, and this time brings out his biggest gun.

    With the HCAR down, this time he has to bust out the M-32 MGL. The weapon is brought to bear, as he squeezes the trigger rapidly, unleashing all six fourty milimeter grenades in an arc towards Stadler and his expended rocket launcher.

Richard Stadler (300) has posed:
Effective. It had been effective, certainly. That was why he brought them along. But it was a single shot, and the expended tube was lying a few meters away by now. Given the amount of running he had to do to escape from that bracket of 40 millimeter grenades fired in quick succession. He just knows that everything, just /everything/ hurts right about now. He's actually still for a few moments, his two man team at the back having grabbed weapons, but... stop, as he manaage to lift himself up. "God... damn it." He says, coughing again and leaving some blood on the sand. "I really, really need to stop doing these." He says to himself, head swinging around. He was disoriented unable to do much more than see clouds of dirt and smoke, much less hear anything, but he can catch and outline of Reker in the distance, and that Webley was just a hand away.

It wasn't anything big, admittedly. His rifle was slung, his Hi-Powered was holstered, and he didn't have enough strength left to pick a target with either. But the Webley still had six shots in it. He had seen how badly Reker had been hurt previously. He knows he's not doing too well.. but he didn't know exactly how much strength he had left.

Didn't really matter. These were the last five shots he had in range of quick firing, and he was going to use them.

Reker (631) has posed:
    Reker advances towards the wounded soldier, looking at that revolver as it comes up. He spots the bullet lines, and then runs forward, dropping down to his knees as he does so. He still catches one round along she side of his head, which cuts a line of red along the side of his head.

    "Sorry about this, Stadler. This was one hell of a fight." He says, as he pulls his knife off of his gear rig, and twists it in his hand for a moment, before driving forward with the weapon to jam it into Stadler's gut. He knows that he won't kill him, and he's not trying to, but he wants to win this and move on for sure.

Richard Stadler (300) has posed:
Stadler looks at the revolver, for a moment. "Fucking hell. You'd think this would be more accurate." He says, letting it clatter to the deck, as Reker walks forward. "And no problem. Certainly no problem. I really could have used that motorcycle though-"

He gives a gasp, as the knife jams into his gut, feeling... well, a lot of pain. It always seemed like a lot of pain, even with the rest of it. At the very least, it's only for a moment, before he lapses into unconsciousness.

"I think that's enough." The voice comes from RIck's side of the field, as DeClere's slug-loaded M1014 is pointed toward Reker, with Fleece and an AK-104 covering her from the opposite side. "Keeping the knife." Fleece says, with a somewhat angry pout on her face, as DeClere moves to hoist Rick's battered body onto her shoulder, and they fall back toward the exit.

Reker (631) has posed:
    "I don't think you can, it's just digital." Reker says, as he follows Fleece and DeClere towards the exit, "But I'll pick you up a copy. I'm sure you wanna talk weapons anyway, and trust me, I know a lot." He says, with a grin, "Maybe after the tournament?" And he follows off to make sure Stadler gets the right treatment