The Assassins' Guild - Week 3 News
The Assassins' Guild - Week 3 NewsI gave Michael Williamson chocolate after shooting him. He seemed unimpressed. I was just glad to find him following me into his own staircase, after several visits to find the door locked...
010001000110010101100001011101000110100000100000011010010111001100100000011011100110010101110110011001010111 001000100000011101000110111101101111001000000110110001100001011101000110010100101110
Yesterday, the squirrel hunters gathered in force and took me down, so that by the end of the evening I had been destroyed not just once, but twice! wait till the RSPCA (royal soc. for the prevention of cruelty to assassins) hear about this...
Waited outside Binary Assassin's room ready to surprise him before 9am lectures (or after rowing), but he didn't come out - probably got there too late. Or maybe he just does a lazy subject without 9 o'clocks!
The Borg lurked again but the ion cloud was interfering with their sensors and they couldn't find HOOOOOOOOOOOOO!.
As he roared in to the department on his motorbike, Commissioner Jim Gordon on sick leave felt like a new man. Somehow the doctors had reinvigorated him, and he felt like he had regained some of his youthfulness. As he drew close to the GCPD offices for his afternoon meeting, he caught sight of one of the most wanted men in the city, a foreign mafia leader notorious for gun-smuggling and drug-dealing, one Moby Dickhead.
Vaulting off the motorbike, he dashed after the gangster. The latter shot off and hurled himself into the apparent safety of a block of flats. Not so, as Commissioner Jim Gordon on sick leave's new vigour carried him effortlessly up the stairs after him. They reached the rooftop, and Commissioner Jim Gordon on sick leave thought he had his man. Yet the latter leaped from the roof onto the next building, and athletically bounded from fire escape to balcony.
Commissioner Jim Gordon on sick leave followed, bounding like a tigger as he drew a gun and, at one crucial moment when he gained a line of sight to his target, fired a round straight into the man's kidneys. Halfway up a ladder, there was nothing for him to fall onto but the distant ground. Commissioner Jim Gordon on sick leave quickly called his clean-up team, and headed for the meeting.
(Commissioner Jim Gordon on sick leave notes he may have used some artistic licence in the writing of this report...)
I never even had a chance. Before I knew what had happened, I was face down on the stairs, breathing my last. Somehow, I still felt myself climbing. My assassin calmly picked up the two rubber bands and, curious, knelt down to hear the words clotting on my greying lips. "I only wish," I murmured low, "I'd killed that wanted dude"
Wandered over to the abode of one HOOOOOOOOOOOOO! at about 4:15pm, but unfortunately he was out. I didn't have a lot of time to wait for him, so I gave up the hunt. Maybe next time...
Anne Bonney had gotten further reports from her staircase fellows of police folk lurking in the area this evening, and all in all, this was Not A Good Thing. Not bothering with canteen food was one thing, but library fines were quite another. He sneakily snuck out of the building, aware of one or two shifty looking gentlemen hanging around rather too nearby, and slipped off the other way to the library. After all that was sorted, he went back to the college which housed another incompetent, and made it to their door. First he tried forcing the door, pistol in hand. When that didn't work he hung around for a while, in the hope that someone trying to force entry might bring the incompetent assassin out after a while through sheer curiosity. But if HOOOOOOOOOOOOO! was there, he wasn't the cat that got curious. Not wanting to sit around like a lame parrot, Anne Bonney dashed back, relieved to find his way clear.
Lurked lecture for Cecil Roberts 1050 to 1102 STOP Observed large crowd leaving STOP Unable to make positive identification of target from poor-quality photo STOP Attempt aborted Labrys ENDIT
Late this evening I made my way to the venue of a certain society meeting, where I knew my target, Om nom nom nom, would be. I first peered through the door to ascertain his presence there and identify any distinguishing marks for later, then lurked surreptitiously until the meeting was over. I had a good spot - there was a mirror opposite wherein I caught a glimpse of my target's reflection as he descended the stairs. I turned away as he passed, then chased after him! He fell to my trusty miniature pistol. A good night's hunting, I feel.
The wind blew harshly as I left this afternoon's basic training, accompanied by my dear accomplice and trainee Some days you just can't get rid of a bomb!. Several incompetent incobeast targets were in our sights, and we had grand designs on them all.
Sadly, those plans were curtailed when, on approaching his residence, our first beastly mark, HOOOOOOOOOOOOO!, responded to my partner's suddenly-drawn by shooting me (ME!) in the chest. Grrrr. I wasn't even bearing, the dirty inco...
An entertaining firefight later, and the beast's friend brought a CPS. We fled the scene, and my friend's life was spared. Once the heat was off we returned to retrieve our transportation, and who should appear, out of that horrible place, but HOOOOOOOOOOOOO! himself, sans CPS? Unnoticed, Some days you just can't get rid of a bomb!. slinks across the lawn, and chases down his target. People don't escape the Police so lightly!
Y'know the good thing about Superheroes? You can kill the person underneath as many times as you like, but you can never kill the costume!
[Incobash Part IIb]
In response to a new drive by Batman and Commissioner Gordon to rid the streets of crime, Robin and myself forged an alliance to track down these scum. After looking at the latest intel on the targets, we armed ourselves with what weaponry we could find and went mounted our police-force issue bicycles, some 3 hours behind the main police excursion. Would there be anyone left for us?
We arrived in a part of town known for its criminal gangs, the site of no fewer than 4 independent mafia families who have been bitterly fighting it out over this patch of street for weeks. Entering the first building, we reminded ourselves that the police had already put down two gang leaders in here. There just always seemed to be another to take his place! On entering the compound, I immediately noticed someone eyeing us suspiciously. As we walked past one another, I observed that he looked remarkably like the photograph we had just been looking at of HOOOOOOOOOOOOO!. My suspicions were confirmed when I noticed the firearm in his pocket. My hand dropped at once to my own gun, but he was a split second faster. Throwing myself away from his line of fire, I spun to face him, only to watch in horror as he gunned down my non-bearing superior officer at point-blank range!
I felt my anger rising, but this was no time to lose my head. Whipping out a second revolver, I fired a couple of shots at him, neither of which hit. My thrown knife ricocheted of his gun, and I circled around him to pick it up and try again. The second throw was more successful, embedding itself in his right hand and missing his body by an inch. Grimly satisfied to see this murderer's blood being taken in retribution for his crimes, I pressed my attack harder.
At this stage, he decided the open space was an unhealthy place to be, and retreated to a secure hideaway. A tense stand-off ensued, with the occasional shot being fired through the doorway, until my opponent spoke a couple of words to an accomplice. I watched in dread as the accomplice brought out a semi-automatic and handed it to him. Some policemen may have the armament to cope with this, but we had been underprepared, and there was no way my knives and pistols were going to match up to this kind of firepower. The only thing to do was run, which I did. Fast.
Having escaped for the time being, I went to collect my police-issue bike in order to return to the station. However, if these criminals have a weakness (which they invariably do) it is their overconfidence. HOOOOOOOOOOOOO! had clearly not expected a defeated, out-gunned police officer to still be lurking near his hideout. I approached behind him, and soon the tables had turned once more, with me chasing him this time. My legs won again, and I managed to catch up and send him on his way with a bullet firmly lodged in the back of his brain.
I went back to my fallen comrade and laid his body to rest. Someone would have to break the news to Batman...
11/02/2010 16:54 Thunderchild and The Borg hunted down Pip 'Lightoftheworld' Ash. Upon arrival he was distinctly absent, however an overly cautious neighbour suggested his absence was unlikely to remain so for long. While observing through kitchen windows the passages of approach we waited for his arrival. Upon a brief distraction regarding the entropy flux within the plasma injectors of sub adjunct 217 beta 4 he snuck into the corridor. His clumsy attempts to mount the stairs however proved most telling to our aural sensory enhancers and as he emerged from the stairwell he was met with a hail of nanites, distinctly resembling blue rubber bands...after a brief but brutal skirmish it was concluded that Thunderchild had fallen to Judge Dread's rounds, but in doing so had provided an opening for The Borg to complete their assimilation.
16.54 saw ThunderChild and The Borg emerge from transwarp outside the door of Judge Dread. After knocking produced no results we interrogated a neighbour and learnt that his ship was due to dock soon so we settled into wait. After a while the appearance of our target disrupted the ongoing discussion of enthalpy and the scourging of plasma manifolds. In the ensuing fight ThunderChild sacrificed himself for the good of the collective creating the distraction that The Borg needed to run around a corner and shoot him from another angle. Why do phasers look so much like rubber band guns?
Resistance is futile.
The Judge was brutally murdered by police today outside his secret cave. Seeing through his not-so-cunning ploy, they gunned him down ruthlessly as he tried to surprise his foe with a sneak attack.
Alas, the Judge has been banished to the lands of the dead. It will be many days before he can be resurrected to once again fight the evil. The days will be long, the nights even longer, but he shall return to free the earth from the vice of wicked men.
Tau ddawn, yn y tŷ ydd wyd. Yna y mae f'enaid glân A'm ellyll yma allan. Whilst you have the fortune of being indoors. My pure soul is there within and my phantom here outside.
Test subject: Osaka Seafood Concern. Subject was not marked for candescence in today's test, due to special privileges. The Enrichment Center is committed to the well being of all participants. Cake and grief counseling will be available at the conclusion of the test.
The Professor of love and I tried staking out Charlie - "I have no need of a pseudonym cos, while I am not going wanted, I will likely die to some very lame crossfire on the first Incobash" - the Unicorn tonight, infiltrating his residence, skulking about and interrogating civilians. However, he managed to escape from the combined forces of Tristan Maxwell and friend. This time.
No idea who he was, but all I know is, he manipulated a housemate of mine into knocking on me on my Thursday evening. I unsuspectingly opened up, foolishly forgetting any concept of weaponry, and got a few rubber bands to the chest as a result. Worse still, the vagabond made off with my kidney.
Oh well. It was fun while it lasted.
Just visited a bloke with a potential lead on a major Bic Medium Everydays order. Got a friend o' mine to give 'im a knock, get the cat out the basket, as it were, so he comes out and he's all like "Nah I don't wanna buy no Biros mate" and I'm all like "Yeah you do, everybody needs a Biro, innit."
Well, only one thing I can do in a situation like that, in't there? So like I said, I shot him. I didn't say? Nah, go on, you're having a giraffe's uncle, me old chesnut. Looted his corpse, found several Biros! Lying bastard!
Today I learnt an important lesson - do not trust people who approach you early in the morning asking about shoe polish. Upon answering that I did not usually take shoe polish to lectures, the enraged assassin promptly shot me.
This morning a miscalculation in astrometrics resulted in arriving outside the docking bays of FYI I am a Spy's College then to the shock of the Borg, (he would have been more shocked if he hadn't waited in the cold for 20 minutes), his target appeared and after a brief phaser battle the Borg was triumphant and FYI I am a Spy assimilated.
Resistance is Futile
010010010010000001110111011010010110110001101100001000000110011101100101011101000010000001111001011011110111 0101001011100010000001001010011101010111001101110100001000000111011101100001011010010111010000101110
I once again set off in search of "That One Guy". After waiting in the shadows where he lived for a while I was lucky enoughy to see him leave his house. However, he was in a dinner Jacket on his way to _unspecified_college_. Remembering reading once that people in suits were OOB and not wanting to reveal myself, I left to kill another day.
The Umpire would like to note that people in suits/formal wear are in bounds but No Water.
After waiting around outside Septima's address for about 15 minutes, I saw her leaving to go to brunch with a friend. She was clearly trying to hide her identity, wearing a hood over her head, but this was slightly defeated by the fact that the hoodie had her name and college printed on its back. I began to move towards her, which immediately caused the two of them to peg it. Not quite having the commitment to run I let them get away.
Later, after waiting around the general area between her house and college for another 15 minutes or so I saw her returning from brunch alone and this time had no hesitation in going after her. What followed was a truly epic, though somewhat short, foot chase through the streets of Cambridge which resulted in me shooting her in the back with several rubber bands. Good times.
As I left home this morning I noticed a rather suspicious looking figure lurking at the end of my street. I kept a wary eye on his movements as my companion and I passed him, cursing the fact that I had neglected to bring any weapons with me. My suspicions were confirmed as he began to follow us, and as he reached for his weapon, we ran.
But alas, he had seen me now, and knew my appearance. As I returned from brunch, our paths crossed again, and this time as I fled to the safety of my home and my weapons, he shot me in the back. 'Curses...', I gurgled as I lay expiring on the pavement, looking up at the dark figure above me.
There is a lull in the fighting on the streets of Gotham City. By no means the end of this Gang War, it is merely a pause, as the disparate forces take a breath before resuming the battle.
But in this pause, whether it lasts for an hour or a day, the city is quiet. In this time the ambulances are able to make their way through the chaos to the wounded, only to take them back to hospitals that are already overflowing with casualties. And at Gotham General Hospital, an exhausted vigilante carries the injured body of Robin into the foyer.
But look now, not to those dying in the care of others, but to an individual lying in a mouldy bed, in an abandoned house.
Knives
He knows that he will die soon. They made that quite clear. And in a way, he feels that he deserves it.
There is a rustle of wind, the slightest whisper of noise. A patch of shadow in the corner of the room is suddenly darker. He turns in his bed, flakes of skin falling from his face as he moves.
"You have come. I thought you would." His voice rasps through broken lips.
Batman steps out of the darkness. "You do not have long."
"No. I know."
"Why did you do it?"
****
3 Weeks Earlier
The newly elected Mayor stands on a podium, delivering a speech about his plans to carry Gotham out of the recession that has crushed it. Rain falls from the sky, but there is a crowd before him nonetheless. The people of Gotham, eager for hope. Sheltering beneath umbrellas.
Crime has been quiet of late. The Commissioner has done an excellent job of forcing the leaders of crime underground, restricting their movements. And now he stands beside the Mayor, watching the crowds. Watching the umbrellas.
There is a round of applause, as the Mayor declares an extra thousand jobs available from the council, but amongst the noise, Gordon sense that something is wrong. And then he sees it.
A gun, thrust out into the rain. Held by a gloved hand. Pointed at the Mayor.
The unseen assassin fires, and the mayor collapses. Gordon directs his men forwards, charging into the crowds, to bring the murderer to justice. But he is lost to them.
But you can see him, can't you? There, emerging from the umbrellas, running into an alleyway.
Knives.
And with the Mayor's death, Chaos was visited upon Gotham. Within the night, the gangs had risen from underground, each one vying for power.
****
"They abducted my family. My wife, my kids. They told me that they'd do the same thing to them as they have done to me." A hacking cough breaks from his throat. "Three weeks of painful life, with the knowledge of my on-coming death. I wouldn't wish that on anyone."
Batman steps closer. "The League of Shadows."
"I don't know who they were. But they were well equipped. I only saw a few of them, but there are more."
"What did they do to you?"
"Injected me..." His breathing is slower, his heart fighting for each beat. "With this." He hands Batman a syringe.
The Dark Knight looks it over, and then sets it to one side. He draws out a canister, containing a single white pill, from the depths of his cloak. "This will not kill you. But it cannot save you either. I offer you it as a mercy. A sedative. You will be dead before you wake up."
Knives nods. "Thank-you."
Batman hands the pill to the dying man, and he takes it. As he falls into a final sleep, he murmurs: "Please, save my family. And undo what I have done."
Walking back to the window, Batman takes a second look at the syringe. Removing a scanner from his belt, he gets a reading of the chemical within.
He knows that Knives is suffering from radiation poisoning. He recognises the symptoms. But he was not expecting this.
Plutonium. Weapons grade.
A bomb.
Leaving the building, he puts a finger to one ear.
"Gordon, we have a problem..."
Suprise!!! Bang.
I may have- erm- gotten myself slightly killed today. I went into Unspecified College to go after Door2Door Salesman, and lurked in his gyp room for a bit. Someone who later turned out to be him walked by, but I didn't know because I hadn't been able to find a photo. After an unsuccessful lurk, I walked out of the college only to meet the same person standing outside and going for his gun. I went for mine- but he was faster, and water pistols, unlike RBGs, don't jam...
We zaw H.E.L.P. at the biologie lab todae. So we followwed her out and stabbed her in the bak. Then we et her BRAINS.
Sincerely,
the Zombiez
The Professor of love and I lurked around for H.E.L.P. this afternoon, but failed to locate the incompetent killer. Targets beware, as Tristan Maxwell's urge to kill grows with each missed victim...
Me and Tristan Maxwell decided to go and kill one unfortunate H.E.L.P.. Fortunately for her, she wasn't around so after a while spent singing we decided to let her live and head home.
The (probably soon to be widely academically discredited) Professor of Love.
And yea, in þe fifþ year of þe reign of King Eggbeard, þe dreaded plague did strike the ASNaCas, yet one did still sally forth to hunt þe heaþen incos, but to no avail.
| Home || Email |
| News 01 || News 02 || News 04 || News 05 || News 06 || Updates || Headlines || police || wanted || inco || stats |