6080/Dune Destruction

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Dune Destruction
Date of Scene: 29 April 2021
Location: Maritime Dunes
Synopsis: Midnighter and dollman defeat some hydra goons together at a dunebuggy track and there's lots of explosions
Cast of Characters: Lester Colt, Lucas Trent




Lester Colt has posed:
     The dunes have been a tourist destination for the state of New York for generations. A place of comfort and relaxation that allows an escape from the chaos of city life. One need only take a moment to ponder its grandeur and realize how much that it means to the people of new york.

     It's a brilliantly bright and sunny day with scorching hot weather blazing out into the noonday sun that reins high overhead. It's borderline uncomfortable and yet people have flocked to the beach socially distant as they may be from one another to enjoy all that nature may have to offer them on this fine summer's day.

     Up in the sky a lone cloud hovers blotting out darkness onto a section of dune near the start of a raceway that's been set up for the day's festivities. Dune buggies have lined up bumper to bumper for the race of a lifetime across the maritime dunes to see who's the best driver among their number loud engines revving across the dunes.

     It's as peaceful a day as one could hope for.

Lucas Trent has posed:
Midnighter isn't one for leisure, generally speaking. Hobbies and amusements aren't really things he's allowed himself. Recently, he's begun to realize that may be a mistake. Obsession and drive are good things, in his point of view, but can leave him unbalanced. Of course, as he knows all too well, action can happen at any time, in any place.

He's mingling among the crowd, wearing a MEGADETH t-shirt over broad muscles, his salt-and-pepper hair close cropped as his slate eyes flick from person to person. Always measuring, always testing. He moves close to the front of the crowd to get a look over the fence. Probably get some dirt in his face this way, but his filters will take care of it. Might as well smell the diesel if you're going to go to the races.

Lester Colt has posed:
     Lester Colt leans his way into the driver's seat of the dune buggy he's next to. "Watch out for 23, got a mean streak fifty miles long." He's dressed in desert camouflage that blends him into his surroundings hauling quite the load of gear on his person in spite of his surroundings. The muscle-bound 6'6" man leaning down to speak to a young woman in the driver's seat. "Knock him out the way and you should have a straight shot for top three."

     "Lester, I know what I'm doing" She leans over giving him a brief kiss on the cheek. "Trust me for once on this." A light smile crossing her grease covered face as it makes transfer to the man with his durag covered head. "I've supercharged this past the limit." She slides her goggles down over her eyes motioning for him to get out of the way.

     Lester marches back over to the crowd by the side of the dunes finding himself stood right beside Midnighter and his Megadeth shirt He hops the little barrier just in time for the sounds to blare off.

     And off the racers go speeding along with all the grace and fury of a rabble rousing team flinging themselves over the dunes and managing to get a great deal of air as already two manage to flip out entirely

     Out in the waters a lone periscope lifts above the waves watching the dunes. The sparkle of its reflective surface catching the light just barely as it watches the festivities from afar.

Lucas Trent has posed:
Midnighter detects that little glint on the lens of the periscope. His eyes narrow. Could just be an innocent spectator with a scope, trying to get a good view. Could be somebody with a sniper scope looking to pick someone off. Regardless, not much he can do about it from here. If something goes down, it goes down.

He flicks his eyes over to Lester as the other man approaches, giving him a wary nod. He can read the training in the man's gait, the way his muscles are built. Every discipline, every martial skill, molds the body in different specific ways that his combat engine can read like braille. This guy was no slouch, whoever he was.

Then the races are going and he focuses his attention, for now, back on the buggies.

Lester Colt has posed:
     Colt is well built and given a lifetime of training in martial arts and combat arts. He's a man who's seen the fields of battle across the world over hill over dale he has hit that dusty trail as it were. He stands with a firm confidence as he locks his hands one inside the other behind his back standing at parade rest. His eyes watch the goings on following the race perfectly as he tracks the car of the woman he'd been speaking with. He's intent on each turn each shift that her buggy makes.

     Out in the water the waves begin to part open on either side as water pours down into the four open holes on the submarine. More and more water pours in as the doors slide open before FWOOM FWOOM FWOOM like missiles launching but instead of explosives they're dune buggies flown through the air at high velocities not quite enough to break the sound barrier as they catapult through the air and come crashing down in perfect synchronization.

     Each one is painted pitch black and red with the head of a HYDRA embossed on the side. Their drivers are completely encased in a pitch black shell that hides their true identities, their thick helmets hiding their faces from view. They land with a cloud of dust that kicks high into the air all around as they enter into the race.

     Saw blades protrude from the sides of two of the dune buggies as they drive onto either side of buggy 14 at the rear of the pack popping first the tires before digging into the frame as if to cut the driver out of the vehicle.

Lucas Trent has posed:
"What in the flamin'..." Lucas mutters to himself, seeing the weaponized buggies launched into the air and landing in the midst of the race.

Whatever's going on is clearly not a part of the show. He can see those blades are sharp as all hell. "Can't get a god damn minute's peace," he mutters as he reaches down and yanks his mask out of his pocket, pulling it down over his face and hopping the fence with impulsive ease.

"Time to stomp some snakes," he mutters to himself as he crouches, waiting for one of the Hydra vehicles to come near enough to jump onboard.

Lester Colt has posed:
     Colt Bolts forward dropping down a pair of mirrored goggles to hide his identity he throws... toys? Yes toys onto the ground in front of him, and before everyone's eyes he shrinks down out of view. The toys that he threw onto the ground he grabs hold of before returning back to normal size now loaded up with his arsenal, a laser rifle on his back, a pistol on his hip and a massive bazzooka like device to boot as he's already running behind Midnighter.

     The Crowd are in shock at what they see as Midnighter manages to leap up off the dunes and onto the top of the buggy slamming down into position with a thud as the suspension buckles down before bounding back up under the added weight.

     The driver with his pitch black helmet looks up at Midnighter than back at the road than back at the man who has just managed to jump onto the hood of his buggy letting out a surprised "How?" As his hand reaches down for his red glowing pistol.

     Not far behind Colt kicks down against the ground propelling himself forward with the use of his jetpack to hop up onto the back of another dunebuggy which swerves back and forth under the surprise weight of its new passenger. He grips down onto the side as they veer into the crowd and up over the guard rails sending people running in every direction while screaming.

     It's panic in the dunes as chaos erupts in every direction

Lucas Trent has posed:
Midnighter drops down into the buggy and takes the driver's wrist, bending it back until sinew and bone snap, rendering the fingers useless and letting the weapon drop.

"My ride," he says, following up with a sharp headbutt to snap the bones in the man's nose, picking him up by the scruff of the neck and casually tossing him up and over the side to land in a heap. If he gets run over by the other buggies, well, he probably deserved it.

He grips the wheel, trying to figure out the controls and steer the HYDRA vehicle to battle its fellows, finding a button on the stick shift and unleashing a quick spatter of laser fire at one of the others.

Lester Colt has posed:
     Fully automatic bright red laser fire echoes out in streams from the tips of the buggy's weapons systems blasting ahead as the driver tumbles end over end down the dunes before his head is smacked by the tire of a driving buggy knocking him unconscious and sending his body spinning round on the ground.

     People cry out still running in every direction as the chaos continues to break members of the crowd pulling down masks as they reveal themselves to be none other than members of HYDRA themselves! It looks like the two men might well be themselves outnumbered here very shortly.

     Colts feet drag along the sand for some time as he begins pulling himself one hand over the next up the back of the bounding dune buggy. He rises himself up the frame as Car 14 is furiously attacked only to have its attacker blasted by a battering array of red laser fire that sends it bursting into a brilliant explosion of red energy the driver diving to one side out from the vehicle with a scream, as he rolls across the dunes. Right to the feet of a waiting police officer who lowers his gun down towards the terrorists face. "Stop right there!."

     Colt climbs up onto the top of the buggy before pulling off a gymnastic feat. He pushes himself straight up by the arms spreading his legs out to either side flips round before kicking his legs straight. "Duck." He calls to the driver of buggy 14 before sending himself swinging down by the roll cage feet first into the face of the HYDRA driver knocking him clear from the HYDRA buggy through Buggy 14 and out the other side rolling along the dunes as he uses his jetpack to slow his own roll the buggy he'd been in crashing directly into a retaining wall and violently exploding.

Lucas Trent has posed:
Midnighter flicks back and forth through the traffic, his combat engine adapting rapidly to the input from all the different vehicles, learning the controls of the vehicle and a rapid-fire rate. STill, he's a close fighter, not a pilot, and he quickly re-assesses his plans as he sees Hydra popping up in the crowd. He whips around, spinning in the sand and drives right at one of the remaining Hydra buggies with his own, activating the saws and flicking the controls to let it collide with its mate, backflipping out to land in teh dust himself as the two vehicles explode together.

He flexes his hands and starts to head towards the nearest Hydra, "Time to break some skulls."

Lester Colt has posed:
     The two vehicles slam head on causing a massive explosion that send the driver flying off into the distance causing him to crash right through the roof of a donna kebab stand landing with his head spinning as he lay in the wreckage even as the owner smacks him repeatedly.

     Colt zips down towards the ground with his jetpack blaring to life as it kicks up walls of sand as he zooms fourth. He lowers his rifle down with ease as he lets out a volley of rounds towards the HYDRA agents stepping into the frey catching a wall of red light in return. It's a light show in every direction as chaos steps up a notch to meet with the rising moments.

     There's something going on in the water. The periscope lowers down into the murky waves lowering out of view.

Lucas Trent has posed:
Midnighter dodges a few shots from Hydra agents, getting singed on the shoulder once because the angles were unfriendly while he was jumping the fence again, but otherwise managing relatively unscathed.

He disarms the first rapidly, yanking the gun from his hand and shoving his hand in hard, gripping the terrorist by the mandible and tearing down, literally ripping the guy's jaw off and leaving him flopping like a fish. He hefts the laser rifle to his own shoulder and starts laying out precision shots, sizzling blasts that hit vital areas only, his movements efficient and measured. Lucas prefers hand to hand, but when facing multiple enemies, sometimes a weapon could be useful.

He sees Lester likewise at work and makes brief eye contact, giving the man a grim nod of comradeship as he drives his foot into a Hydra agent's chest, driving him into the ground and then stomping repeatedly until his ribcage collapses.

Lester Colt has posed:
     HYDRA it seems was not sending their best this day instead expecting a fairly easy and straightforward slaughter. Well a slaughter is exactly what they're getting. The fanatics stand and fight but they're no match for trained super soldiers like Midnighter and Doll Man

     Once the civilians are out of view Colt no longer holds back. He's going for shots to the vitals to the center of mass. One of the HYDRA agents throws his arms to either side mid scream but instead of shouting he's covered in a brilliant blue glow that causes him to fade into little more than a pile of dust on the ground, a horrific way to go but one that's effective at taking him out of the combat zone.

     It doesn't take long for the two to mop up the stragglers until there's just the two men standing and a few gasping pleading HYDRA agents left on the ground. Colt landing down onto the ground touching down with his jetpack lowering him into place as he looks to Midnighter. "Nice moves."

Lucas Trent has posed:
Midnighter flicks some blood off of his hand, "This is why I usually wear gloves," he mutters.

He steps on the face of an agent on the ground and leans down, "You tell whatever Nazi fuck that sent you here that they can crawl in a hole and fuck themselves. Not now. When they see you in Hell," he says, giving one last stomp to finish the guy off.

Midnighter walks over to an abandoned vendor's tray and shoots a couple of beers into plastic cups, offering one to Lester and taking a sip of his own. "Not bad yourself, fella."

Lester Colt has posed:
     "Hail HYDRA" The coughing and sputtering HYDRA agent on the ground sputters getting ready to crack that emergency tooth to go out on his own method but when that boot comes down he offers a rapid fire series of no's only to be cut off completely by a loud boot and a crunching noise that ends that fast enough.

     Dollman doesn't rush to stop Midnighter or even seem all that bothered by the action. It's just another part of the job for him, which for some may well be a welcome change in the world of new york supers. Instead he just walks over and extends a hand snagging that beer. "Dollman."

     He sets down the cup onto the ground holding up one finger. He shrinks himself slightly before picking the cup up and growing himself back to normal size increasing the size of his cup of beer in his hand by a significant margin. "Like your style."

Lucas Trent has posed:
Midnighter cocks his head, "Dollman? You know you can always pick your own alias if you don't like the one they give you?" he says with a smirk.

"I'm Midnighter," he says, shaking the hand. The shrink demonstration answers any further questions he has, "Ah, okay, I get it. Long as you're not built like a Ken doll, I guess that's okay," he says with a wink.

"Probably better clear out before cops and the like show up. Too many fucking questions and I don't officially exist in the first place."

Lester Colt has posed:
     Dollman lets out a bit of a low chuckle before offering. "It was the sixties." and taking a sip from his now larger glass of beer. He sets it down to one side, looking at the carnage on all fronts that's been presented. He takes a quick moment to shrink his weapons back down to size so that he can hide them on his person as harmless toys so that they won't get him into any trouble, along with the working jetpack.

     "Back then it didn't have quite the same connotations it does today." He looks up at the sound of sirens in the distance and begins to walk calmly back over towards the dune racer he was talking to earlier who's pulled back over and looks more than a little concerned. "Keep up the good work out there Midnighter, you're making the world a better place."