Goetia
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Mission Name: Hunted
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The city of NBville was cold, as it always was. But it was quiet. And that was all that was necessary. Silence, and security. Not much time had passed since the siege of SHIELD, the fall of HYDRA. Even memories of that event were fragmented, as if shattered glass. Reflected in cold, unfeeling eyes of a man out of time. In his sleep, what little he got, was not peaceful. Memories of torture. The needles, the saws, the pain...blank. The hand of his bionic arm clenched into a fist, wanting to push away the thoughts of his previous life. The life that clawed at his tormented mind and body. Had it not been for his mental reconditioning and training, he would have broken. That is...if he was not already.
The sound of shouting woke Barnes, in his small apartment unit, which he had snuck into and been using as a residence ever since he began his self-imposed mission. His eyes opened slowly, he figured it was some angry neighbours who'd begun to engage in their almost daily, but still incessant, bickering at an ungodly hour. Though, he was still grateful that these were the close to the greatest extent of his problems. Shrugging it off, his eyes closed again, to return to a sleep he'd hope would be different from the usual. The shouting soon stopped, which brought Barnes relief. Silence enveloped the city, it had seemed to him. This, unlike the shouting of the residents upstairs, was not usual. There was something wrong. His eyes opened again, and he moved his limbs so as to stand up and walk to the window, and see what was going on. He stood up from his mattress, and walked to the window nearest the kitchen, from where he would be able to oversee the whole street block. A bullet whizzes through the glass, catching him by surprise. Instinctively, he removes himself from the vicinity of the window by a few feet, steadying himself and spreading his feet apart to afford a more stable stance. Barnes raises his arms to shield his face from the glass, his bionic arm would definitely afford the greatest protection. Looking at the window, he could see the hole where the bullet had penetrated the glass and entered the room. Looking about the room for a few moments, he waited to see if anymore would come. 4 seconds passed, and more gunfire could be heard from below in the streets. The bullet was likely a stray one, considering the trajectory and factoring in the height of his unit from the ground level. There was a small, but very noticeable dent in the ceiling where the bullet impacted. The ceiling wasn't too durable, but it was enough for the bullet to impact and then drop. Crouching to the floor underneath the bullet's collision spot on the ceiling, Barnes picked it up inbetween his index finger and thumb. A 9x19mm Parabellum. This bullet was extremely common, typical for lower-scale weaponry. He was familiar with the bullets from his previous life, or, lives. Gunfire ceases outside, if there was a gang-war of some kind, it was over. But it couldn't have been. There weren't enough gunshots for there to be. It was, more than likely, a team of criminals just doing what they do. Be criminals. But there was little time to contemplate upon such matters, as the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching reverberated throughout the building. Screams, shouting, more gunfire. Whoever these guys were, they weren't planning on leaving people alive. But they wouldn't expect one of the former deadliest assassins to be on the other side of the door. Standing a few meters to the side of the doorway, he waited. The footsteps became louder and louder, they were basically outside now. The door was soon riddled with bullets, and devoid of any hope of repair. Keeling over from outside, one of the gunmen stepped inside with his gun pointed into the room. From the voices Barnes could hear behind the assailant, there were 4 others. Each using similar or identical weaponry.
Barnes gets the jump on the first hostile, running towards him. The hand on his bionic arm is wide open, as if a large claw threatening to rip the man's heart out. If he were still that man, he just might have. His palm slams into the side of the man's head, the fingers tightening around the skull to ensure the best grip. The momentum from the run-up, as well as the pushing force exerted by Barnes, causes the man's head to smash solidly into the wall. The concussion would result in instant incapacitation, he'd wake up with severe bruising and a ringing head. With his bionic arm still planted on the first gunmen's head, he bends his right arm at the elbow, raising it and smashing the next gunmen cleanly in the nose. The quick, but unmistakable, crunch he felt upon connecting the blow was all the confirmation he needed. With the first and second target neutralised and stunned respectively, and the third and fourth taken off-guard by the sudden and unexpected offensive, Barnes estimated that he still had about, give or take, 3 seconds before the other hostiles were able to steady themselves and begin firing their weapons. In a split second, his eyes darted towards their weapons. Glock 19 Gen 4's. Fairly common weapons amongst the basic military of NBville. They must've gotten the weapons off some dead cops, or at some kind of arm's deal. Whichever it was didn't matter. Barnes then averted his gaze to their head, the whites of their eyes even more visible from their widened expression. He still had 2 seconds until things got messy. Lowering his elbow from the second assailant's face, revealing a bloody mess of flesh and bone, he grabs the Glock pistol from the man's hands and whips his arm up, punching him on the underside of the chin, which would send him reeling backwards into the other two. Now, they would be focused on staying out of the way of their companion, which would give him another 2 or 3 seconds to follow up with another move before they could begin using their weapons. Throwing the Glock pistol at the man on the left, closest to the stairwell railing, he would target the other one, the fourth hostile. With a small amount of space inbetween the gunmen and Barnes, it being the doorway and the 1.5 meters into the walkway, he had more than enough leeway. Taking a few steps to build speed, he closes the distance between himself the fourth attacker rapidly, gripping the Glock pistol firmly with his right hand. Then, he whips the pistol upwards using his arm strength, cracking the barrel against the underside of the man's chin. Stunning him, and preventing him from communicating further by way of putting physical trauma on the teeth, he then moves his right hand swiftly to the man's left hip, holding it firmly. In a movement of equal speed, he places the hand of his bionic left arm on the side of the man's head, and then shoves him towards his stunned comrade. Both would be thrown over the side of the railing, falling onto the carpeted stairs and down the stairwell. Barnes stood in the hallway, taking slow, deep breaths. It had been months since his last physical confrontation, but it felt only days.
These men were not the only ones. From the amount of gunshots he had heard outside from beforehand, the numbers he had taken out were not indicate of the total number. There had to be more that were doing sweeps outside of the building, doing reconnaissance. With the immediate threats nuetralised, it was time to assess the situation outside. Returning to the apartment room, he walked to the window from where the bullet entered his room. Shattered glass and small fires could be seen, it was now clear that these were just lowlife thugs. But numbers could be dangerous, if they were large enough. The streets below appeared to be empty, so Barnes then moved to the window straight forward from the hallway, that the first assailant would have been looking through upon entering the room. Looking outside, there was a fairly large building across the street from him, where multiple armed men were standing in a group. 7 hostiles, each wearing ordinary civilian clothing, 5 armed with what appeared to be the same Glock 19's as the other men were holding. The other two were in possession of weapons a little more powerful than simple Glock pistols; Saiga-308's. They would be priority targets for Barnes to initiate the engagement. The bigger problem was how to get down from the building and take them by surprise. Using the rooftop entrance wasn't an option, it was too far from the group and he'd be shot before he could get close. He couldn't scale the building either, it would be disadvantageous to initiate the engagement from there. He could use his own weapons, but this would raise questions and suspicions later. It was best to keep things close and personal. As moments passed, his mind continued to search for a solution. Every conventional method of approaching the hostiles was not optimal, and the odds would stack against him from every strategy he thought of. It was an open rooftop, lots of space, little cover from gunfire...and then it clicked. If he could not attack from the sides, or below, he would approach from above. Leaving the room, he trudged to the stairwell and headed for the upper floors. He'd ascended by 3 floors, which would put him at around 6 storeys above ground. It would be enough to jump from the floor and reach the other rooftop. At least, this was the hope. Walking to the end of the hallway, he had optimal space to run from there to the balcony on the other side of an emergency exit and jump. Crouching slightly, he pushed off his right leg and began sprinting. The hallway became a blur, the oranges and greens becoming single lines of colour as he ran. The light of the rising sun crept over the horizon, momentarily shining in Barnes' eyes as he crossed into the outside of the balcony. At the exact moment, he pushed off the ground with all of the strength in his right leg, launching himself into the air. It was all seamless, one quick movement. He was only in the air for a few seconds at most. His legs met the stone crunch of rubble, as he tucked himself and rolled out of the jump, absorbing the impact completely. By the time he'd stood up, he was in prime positioning to begin his systematic assault.
By his estimate, he had about 3 seconds to take out the first hostile however he wanted, before the others registered his presence and began to move on him. Making use of his crouched figure, Barnes bent his bionic arm at the elbow and threw a straight jab at the man before him, the blow catching him squarely in the ribs. 3 ribs fractured, just to estimate. Now, he would have an additional 3 seconds at best to move onto another target. Fortunately, the man he'd just punched was one of the two holding a Saiga-308. As the man crumpled to the ground, he grabbed the weapon with his right hand, stretching to reach the firearm. Drawing it close to him and spinning in a clockwise manner, he turned roughly 180° to face the next hostile. Aiming at the assailant's right shoulder, Barnes pulled the trigger with a stone expression. A single bullet rocketed from the chamber, launching itself straight into the man's unarmoured body. His body whipped to the impact of the bullet, causing him to stumble backwards, where he would collapse right next to the edge of the rooftop. Barnes would turn slightly, adjusting his aim accordingly to shoot two other hostiles. The additional 3 seconds of grace period had passed, and now he was fair game. There were three hostiles remaining, and he only had 1 bullet remaining. All three were standing in front of him, separated by one meter and standing next to each other. One of them had their Glock almost trained on Barnes, the other two were about to unholster theirs. Aiming his weapon quickly, he took a quick shot at the first hostile, whose gun was aimed straight at him. The bullets passed by each other, the Saiga's ripping straight through the hostile's stomach, the Glock's passing by Barnes' face. It clipped a strand of his hair, barely. That was as close as he would let the rest of their bullets get to him. Throwing the Saiga at the hostiles, and grabbing a nearby Glock at his feet, he shot at the left hostile's foot, the bullet slicing through the flesh and bone of their toes and feet. With one of the threats taken care of, he had only one left. Aiming upwards to the other hostile, Barnes shot him as close to the heart as he could get without hitting it.
Raw strength coursed through Barnes' body. He could feel it. He could easily have crushed these men without mercy, but he didn't. He was no longer that kind of man anymore. Someone else would decide their fate. Looking over their bodies one last time, writhing and groaning from the pain, he walked to the rooftop exit and descended through the stairwell of the building. He'd done his best to keep the incident contained and quiet, but he feared that he'd once again have to relocate. Everywhere he went, destruction and chaos followed. As if his past, his previous self, was attempting to draw him back. As if the arms of HYDRA were trying to reclaim him. Even if he didn't murder anyone today, he could very well tomorrow. Or some other day. Be it, in 3 days, a week, or a year. Until that day comes, he would continue his mission. To rediscover, to relearn, and maybe...to return.
Alignment: Neutral
Type: Solo/Counter/Initiative
Rank: C
District: Downtown
Description: A local town that you’ve been hiding out in is under attack by a group of wandering hunters. Your mission is to dispatch of them as quickly as possible, as their criminal activity can attract the attention of heroes in nearby cities, blowing your cover.
Reward: 20 EXP
Type: Solo/Counter/Initiative
Rank: C
District: Downtown
Description: A local town that you’ve been hiding out in is under attack by a group of wandering hunters. Your mission is to dispatch of them as quickly as possible, as their criminal activity can attract the attention of heroes in nearby cities, blowing your cover.
Reward: 20 EXP
Bio → [
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]The city of NBville was cold, as it always was. But it was quiet. And that was all that was necessary. Silence, and security. Not much time had passed since the siege of SHIELD, the fall of HYDRA. Even memories of that event were fragmented, as if shattered glass. Reflected in cold, unfeeling eyes of a man out of time. In his sleep, what little he got, was not peaceful. Memories of torture. The needles, the saws, the pain...blank. The hand of his bionic arm clenched into a fist, wanting to push away the thoughts of his previous life. The life that clawed at his tormented mind and body. Had it not been for his mental reconditioning and training, he would have broken. That is...if he was not already.
Longing.
The sound of shouting woke Barnes, in his small apartment unit, which he had snuck into and been using as a residence ever since he began his self-imposed mission. His eyes opened slowly, he figured it was some angry neighbours who'd begun to engage in their almost daily, but still incessant, bickering at an ungodly hour. Though, he was still grateful that these were the close to the greatest extent of his problems. Shrugging it off, his eyes closed again, to return to a sleep he'd hope would be different from the usual. The shouting soon stopped, which brought Barnes relief. Silence enveloped the city, it had seemed to him. This, unlike the shouting of the residents upstairs, was not usual. There was something wrong. His eyes opened again, and he moved his limbs so as to stand up and walk to the window, and see what was going on. He stood up from his mattress, and walked to the window nearest the kitchen, from where he would be able to oversee the whole street block. A bullet whizzes through the glass, catching him by surprise. Instinctively, he removes himself from the vicinity of the window by a few feet, steadying himself and spreading his feet apart to afford a more stable stance. Barnes raises his arms to shield his face from the glass, his bionic arm would definitely afford the greatest protection. Looking at the window, he could see the hole where the bullet had penetrated the glass and entered the room. Looking about the room for a few moments, he waited to see if anymore would come. 4 seconds passed, and more gunfire could be heard from below in the streets. The bullet was likely a stray one, considering the trajectory and factoring in the height of his unit from the ground level. There was a small, but very noticeable dent in the ceiling where the bullet impacted. The ceiling wasn't too durable, but it was enough for the bullet to impact and then drop. Crouching to the floor underneath the bullet's collision spot on the ceiling, Barnes picked it up inbetween his index finger and thumb. A 9x19mm Parabellum. This bullet was extremely common, typical for lower-scale weaponry. He was familiar with the bullets from his previous life, or, lives. Gunfire ceases outside, if there was a gang-war of some kind, it was over. But it couldn't have been. There weren't enough gunshots for there to be. It was, more than likely, a team of criminals just doing what they do. Be criminals. But there was little time to contemplate upon such matters, as the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching reverberated throughout the building. Screams, shouting, more gunfire. Whoever these guys were, they weren't planning on leaving people alive. But they wouldn't expect one of the former deadliest assassins to be on the other side of the door. Standing a few meters to the side of the doorway, he waited. The footsteps became louder and louder, they were basically outside now. The door was soon riddled with bullets, and devoid of any hope of repair. Keeling over from outside, one of the gunmen stepped inside with his gun pointed into the room. From the voices Barnes could hear behind the assailant, there were 4 others. Each using similar or identical weaponry.
Rusted.
Barnes gets the jump on the first hostile, running towards him. The hand on his bionic arm is wide open, as if a large claw threatening to rip the man's heart out. If he were still that man, he just might have. His palm slams into the side of the man's head, the fingers tightening around the skull to ensure the best grip. The momentum from the run-up, as well as the pushing force exerted by Barnes, causes the man's head to smash solidly into the wall. The concussion would result in instant incapacitation, he'd wake up with severe bruising and a ringing head. With his bionic arm still planted on the first gunmen's head, he bends his right arm at the elbow, raising it and smashing the next gunmen cleanly in the nose. The quick, but unmistakable, crunch he felt upon connecting the blow was all the confirmation he needed. With the first and second target neutralised and stunned respectively, and the third and fourth taken off-guard by the sudden and unexpected offensive, Barnes estimated that he still had about, give or take, 3 seconds before the other hostiles were able to steady themselves and begin firing their weapons. In a split second, his eyes darted towards their weapons. Glock 19 Gen 4's. Fairly common weapons amongst the basic military of NBville. They must've gotten the weapons off some dead cops, or at some kind of arm's deal. Whichever it was didn't matter. Barnes then averted his gaze to their head, the whites of their eyes even more visible from their widened expression. He still had 2 seconds until things got messy. Lowering his elbow from the second assailant's face, revealing a bloody mess of flesh and bone, he grabs the Glock pistol from the man's hands and whips his arm up, punching him on the underside of the chin, which would send him reeling backwards into the other two. Now, they would be focused on staying out of the way of their companion, which would give him another 2 or 3 seconds to follow up with another move before they could begin using their weapons. Throwing the Glock pistol at the man on the left, closest to the stairwell railing, he would target the other one, the fourth hostile. With a small amount of space inbetween the gunmen and Barnes, it being the doorway and the 1.5 meters into the walkway, he had more than enough leeway. Taking a few steps to build speed, he closes the distance between himself the fourth attacker rapidly, gripping the Glock pistol firmly with his right hand. Then, he whips the pistol upwards using his arm strength, cracking the barrel against the underside of the man's chin. Stunning him, and preventing him from communicating further by way of putting physical trauma on the teeth, he then moves his right hand swiftly to the man's left hip, holding it firmly. In a movement of equal speed, he places the hand of his bionic left arm on the side of the man's head, and then shoves him towards his stunned comrade. Both would be thrown over the side of the railing, falling onto the carpeted stairs and down the stairwell. Barnes stood in the hallway, taking slow, deep breaths. It had been months since his last physical confrontation, but it felt only days.
These men were not the only ones. From the amount of gunshots he had heard outside from beforehand, the numbers he had taken out were not indicate of the total number. There had to be more that were doing sweeps outside of the building, doing reconnaissance. With the immediate threats nuetralised, it was time to assess the situation outside. Returning to the apartment room, he walked to the window from where the bullet entered his room. Shattered glass and small fires could be seen, it was now clear that these were just lowlife thugs. But numbers could be dangerous, if they were large enough. The streets below appeared to be empty, so Barnes then moved to the window straight forward from the hallway, that the first assailant would have been looking through upon entering the room. Looking outside, there was a fairly large building across the street from him, where multiple armed men were standing in a group. 7 hostiles, each wearing ordinary civilian clothing, 5 armed with what appeared to be the same Glock 19's as the other men were holding. The other two were in possession of weapons a little more powerful than simple Glock pistols; Saiga-308's. They would be priority targets for Barnes to initiate the engagement. The bigger problem was how to get down from the building and take them by surprise. Using the rooftop entrance wasn't an option, it was too far from the group and he'd be shot before he could get close. He couldn't scale the building either, it would be disadvantageous to initiate the engagement from there. He could use his own weapons, but this would raise questions and suspicions later. It was best to keep things close and personal. As moments passed, his mind continued to search for a solution. Every conventional method of approaching the hostiles was not optimal, and the odds would stack against him from every strategy he thought of. It was an open rooftop, lots of space, little cover from gunfire...and then it clicked. If he could not attack from the sides, or below, he would approach from above. Leaving the room, he trudged to the stairwell and headed for the upper floors. He'd ascended by 3 floors, which would put him at around 6 storeys above ground. It would be enough to jump from the floor and reach the other rooftop. At least, this was the hope. Walking to the end of the hallway, he had optimal space to run from there to the balcony on the other side of an emergency exit and jump. Crouching slightly, he pushed off his right leg and began sprinting. The hallway became a blur, the oranges and greens becoming single lines of colour as he ran. The light of the rising sun crept over the horizon, momentarily shining in Barnes' eyes as he crossed into the outside of the balcony. At the exact moment, he pushed off the ground with all of the strength in his right leg, launching himself into the air. It was all seamless, one quick movement. He was only in the air for a few seconds at most. His legs met the stone crunch of rubble, as he tucked himself and rolled out of the jump, absorbing the impact completely. By the time he'd stood up, he was in prime positioning to begin his systematic assault.
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By his estimate, he had about 3 seconds to take out the first hostile however he wanted, before the others registered his presence and began to move on him. Making use of his crouched figure, Barnes bent his bionic arm at the elbow and threw a straight jab at the man before him, the blow catching him squarely in the ribs. 3 ribs fractured, just to estimate. Now, he would have an additional 3 seconds at best to move onto another target. Fortunately, the man he'd just punched was one of the two holding a Saiga-308. As the man crumpled to the ground, he grabbed the weapon with his right hand, stretching to reach the firearm. Drawing it close to him and spinning in a clockwise manner, he turned roughly 180° to face the next hostile. Aiming at the assailant's right shoulder, Barnes pulled the trigger with a stone expression. A single bullet rocketed from the chamber, launching itself straight into the man's unarmoured body. His body whipped to the impact of the bullet, causing him to stumble backwards, where he would collapse right next to the edge of the rooftop. Barnes would turn slightly, adjusting his aim accordingly to shoot two other hostiles. The additional 3 seconds of grace period had passed, and now he was fair game. There were three hostiles remaining, and he only had 1 bullet remaining. All three were standing in front of him, separated by one meter and standing next to each other. One of them had their Glock almost trained on Barnes, the other two were about to unholster theirs. Aiming his weapon quickly, he took a quick shot at the first hostile, whose gun was aimed straight at him. The bullets passed by each other, the Saiga's ripping straight through the hostile's stomach, the Glock's passing by Barnes' face. It clipped a strand of his hair, barely. That was as close as he would let the rest of their bullets get to him. Throwing the Saiga at the hostiles, and grabbing a nearby Glock at his feet, he shot at the left hostile's foot, the bullet slicing through the flesh and bone of their toes and feet. With one of the threats taken care of, he had only one left. Aiming upwards to the other hostile, Barnes shot him as close to the heart as he could get without hitting it.
Raw strength coursed through Barnes' body. He could feel it. He could easily have crushed these men without mercy, but he didn't. He was no longer that kind of man anymore. Someone else would decide their fate. Looking over their bodies one last time, writhing and groaning from the pain, he walked to the rooftop exit and descended through the stairwell of the building. He'd done his best to keep the incident contained and quiet, but he feared that he'd once again have to relocate. Everywhere he went, destruction and chaos followed. As if his past, his previous self, was attempting to draw him back. As if the arms of HYDRA were trying to reclaim him. Even if he didn't murder anyone today, he could very well tomorrow. Or some other day. Be it, in 3 days, a week, or a year. Until that day comes, he would continue his mission. To rediscover, to relearn, and maybe...to return.
