Final Fantasy Hacktics

(( Subtle...  that's the little words on the movie when people are talking in other languages, right?  Right. ))

Buliwyf hits the team comm toggle. "Sounds good to me.  You hit him fast and first, I'll blindside him when he's distracted."  He follows Wesley's rush up the narrow channel, stepping in close to Cronus immediately after the shotgun blasts.  The flag whips out, a distraction to momentarily blind the cameras and then dips down in a circular motion to almost gently brush that machine gun aside.  The old man sidesteps and twists, the butt of the flagpole suddenly locked against the back of Cronus knee providing leverage to sweep the zaku off its feet.  A swift twist in the other direction and Buliwyf's palm crushes against the shotgun-scared armor plates, hoping to put Cronus down for good as he moves to avoid any of those blasts from Surunai.

1) Reserved defensive action.
2) Move to AB9
3) Strike Cronus, less damage in exchange for (hopefully) knocking him over.
4) Strike Cronus again, full damage
5) Move to W5

Buliwyf pulls the flag pole out of the wreck of Ballack's Zaku and chuckles, toggling the com for his allies.  "I don't believe that worked, for the record.  Head north, any sort of arc-fire weapon will have a harder time shelling us in the narrows of the canyons.  Watch out for Cronus, his machine had shoulder spikes.  Gonna be hell on wheels if he jumps us in tight quarters."[b/]  He lets his hands deftly maneuver the controls, returning the shotgun to its clamp before heading north.

1) immediate interrupt for defensive maneuvers if attacked.
2) Move to AB29, scan for enemies
3) Move to Z22, scan
4) Move to AB16
5) move to AB7

Buliwyf swears quietly about all this smoke, and flings his arm blindly to the northeast.  He steps forward, wrapping his hand around the flagpole and pulling it free with a savage jerk.  "They want it, they can have it..." He spins the 50-foot pole in his hands to test the balance, and then fires his rockets, blasting free of the smoke cloud and impaling Ballack cleanly through the chestplate as he lets the force of the jump carry them both completely off the plateau to the sand below.  He reaches down to tear off the Zaku's head, hoping to finish the job that Wesley started.

1) throw arm through the smoke to try and clock an enemy.
2) grab the flag and wait for Wesley to do his thing.
3) Boosterdash up to Ballack and impale
4) Continue with Ballack on the flagpole down to the dirt at X37
5) Finish tearing Ballack apart if Wesley, the lance, and the fall havent already done the job.

Buliwyf keeps the severed arm in his left hand, drawing his shotgun with the right.  He deftly maneuvers his machine backwards, keeping an eye on their retreat as he moves back to regroup by the flag.

1) Ready action for counter-attack if needed.
2) Move to C23
3) Move to E31
4) Move to F39
5) Move to L38

Buliwyf grunts at the sound of screaming metal, noting his right shoulder armor has been stripped away.  He reaches out and clamps his right hand down on the top of Serenes shield, using the increased leverage to force her arm back.  He raises her own torn-off arm overhead and whips it down to crush her now-extended elbow joint and then drops his left shoulder and slams forward into the body of her suit, hoping to crack the armor before his left fist slams forward to crush her cockpit.

1) Hyper-extend her left arm at the elbow
2) snap that shit off.
3) crack chestplate
4) crush cockpit
5) saved for defensive action, ideally pulling her between me and whatever incoming attack.

Buliwyf doesnt gloat... or say much of anything over the coms, really.  He leaps in the general direction of the enemy Zaku and hits the reel on his winch, musing to his own empty cockpit.  "You know what they say.  If you cant bring the fish to you, you go to the fish."  He tucks his shoulder and lets his shield eat the majority of the impact against Serenes shield, swiftly moving to take her down before she can go on the offensive.

1-4) Somebody's getting grappled and dismantled.

Buliwyf waits under cover until Sieg is hopefully distracted by the incoming bazooka rounds and taunting, then quickly urges his suit across the stream and into the cover of fallen buildings.  He pops the safety off his winch, readying it for action as he heads towards the flag.  "Alright, pre-arranged signal.  If I run into anybody, they'll scream."  He deftly works the control-sticks, just like reef-sprinting on Alpha Gamma 07 when he was hunting Nova-sharks.

1) Move F14
2) Move A7
3) Move H8
All other actions held for counter-attacks and defensive maneuvers.

Buliwyf toggles his com switch to Ally-only. "Sounds good to me."  He kills the mic and presses a few buttons elsewhere, filling his cockpit with the sound of furious drums and driving guitar as his battered workhorse of a machine turns and heads into the nearby canyons.

1) move to A40
2) Move to A29
3) Move to C23
4) Held for defensive maneuver

"Well, I'd say there's a definite difference between punching a disobedient solder and beating a civilian woman."  The old man finishes his beer and tosses it into the garbage.  "Then again chivalry is supposed to have died a couple hundred years ago."

Buliwyf takes another slug from his bottle, then gazes at the rest contemplatively after the news.  "Well.  Aint that some shit.  Reckon you better get on the base intercom, assemble all Cobra personel in the mess hall, and we'll hash it out."  He tilts the bottle back, emptying it.  "And they're sending us in blind, huh?  Sounds like they're trying to fuck us, sir."

"I'm not judging you cuz you're young, dont worry.  I'm judging you because I've got bait bigger than you in an ice chest back on Sigma 6."  The old man grins to take the sting out of his words.  "Just bullshitting you, Wes.  Grab a beer if you like, siddown."  The beer bottle is tipped at each of the women in turn.  "Erin, Lyra.  So you're gonna be my cover?  What do you use?"

"Howdy, Lyra.  A date, is it now?"  The old man chuckles and takes a long draw off his bottle.  "Aint had one of those in longer'n I care to admit.  Ah well, reckon I better not get fresh or I'm likely to get a beer bottle in the face for it."  He grins at Erin.  "And I been beat on enough for one day already, done took all the romance out of it."

Xun does his best to tune out the combat spectacle dominating the clearing, keeping his senses peeled for anything that might be trying to move in during the distraction as he makes tea and helps with dinner.

Buliwyf chuckles.  "Stayin' in the plane, huh?  Dont blame you, it's a hell of a lot smarter option than running around getting your ass metaphorically and literally shot off.  Where you from, you don't mind my askin'?"  He takes another long pull off his beer.  "Everybody gets all up in arms about 'being from earth' or 'being from space', none of that shit really matters though in the long run.  It's all about 'will you do your job', at the end of the day."

"Hope you don't mind if I call you Erin," Buliwyf rolls his head across his shoulders, drawing a few final creaks and pops from his neck. "I can give you the dime tour of the place, but I haven't really spent much time here myself."  He leads her off down the hallways.  "Gym, showers, pool over there for fitness.  Rec rooms down that hall, TV, movies, games, all that crap.  More maintenance rooms down there, armory such as it is."  He pushes open the door to the commissary with a faint grin.  "And finally, our five-star dining facility."  He rolls over and snatches up a pair of beers out of their icy bed, indicating the lady with the cigar with a toss of his head.  "Her tab."  He tosses Erin one of the bottles and pops the top off his own. "Aint a lot here, hope you're easily entertained."

"Yeah, pretty sure there's a drop to the incinerator over in the corner." He heads over that way and helps the strange woman dump the body down the disposal chute.  "Swear to god next time she does that shit I'm leaving it in her bed."  He wipes his hand clean on his obviously well-used mechanics coveralls and holds it out.  "Buliwyf Herger.  You're the pilot?"

Buliwyf was just putting his tools away when the woman with the cigar called.  He slung his toolbag into the storage locker of his cockpit and rappelled down to the deck before shrugging out of his safety harness.  "Some of us are. Some of us are just psycho.  You got any idea where to take this poor bastard?"  He hoists the body by its shoulders with a grunt.  "I need a damned beer before dealing with this crap.  Stupid crazy bitch.  I oughtta..."  He gets a thoughtful look on her face.  "I wonder if I can find out where she sleeps."

"Naw, I'm usually sunshine, rainbows, and unicorn farts.  You just showed up and started acting a damn fool at the wrong time.  If you'll excuse me, Sir, I'm gonna get back to work."  Buliwyf climbs back up the metal framework and clips his safety harness back to the lines, picking up another wrench and vanishing into the underpinnings.

"Lady, I don't even know you.  But I just got back from the field and I haven't had a beer yet and so help me God if you keep fucking with the people that cover my ass I will roll you up into a little ball, tuck you behind a locker, and leave you there for maintenance to find."  He turns to Atrius after the punch. "And if this belongs to you, Sir, I'd respectfully request you keep a better leash on it."