[IC] RPguild Ranked Tournement (MelonHead vs Vordak)

[MelonHead]

Jok stood suddenly, his eyes blinking rapidly behind his tactical mask as he tried to process where he was. It took him a significantly shorter time than any ordinary human, for he was Ramor, and had undergone controversial testing and augmentation to boot. He was dressed fully in his combat apparel, Exo-suit included, and he had his grenade launcher slung round his side. His pack was fully equipped and on the floor in front of him, and stood next to it was his favourite weapon, the SOP silenced submachine gun. He dropped to a crouch and picked up the weapon, looking about him at the smooth rocky area he had found himself in. It had the look of an enclosed circle about it, to either side of him stood a staircase that apparently led up to some form of ring above him.

He shouldered his backpack, which was loaded full of all his basic equipment and explosives by the weight of it, and checked his sides with his left hand. He was comforted by the knife and pistol at each hip even as he re-asserted full control over his submachine gun and began scanning the area again, slightly nervous about the situation.

I don’t know how the fuck I got here, but I know I’ve gotta kill a man to get back out.

[Vordak]

Soundless, the teleport pieced his body back into existence, Vos arriving into the battlefield - which he noted to be slightly more barren than the previous arena. With nobody in line of sight, he turned his head around careful not to even make the leather jacket creak, only to be be met with quite a disheartening reveal: his opponent was there, just about 8 meters away, and by their posture - the characteristic hunching of the shoulders - Vos could guess what weapon they were wielding. If he was right, then the fight promised to be a harsh one, brutal and short.

Deeply inhaling, he turned around, drawing his sword and a stiletto dagger, then stopping in a sideways stance, right side facing Jok, heavily exhaled. The creaking of the leather, the sliding of Danwarge against its sheath, the rustling of the ground underneath his boots, his own breath - all would be a dead giveaway, and Vos readied himself for the gunman's attack, both dagger and sword held in front of his body.

[MelonHead]

Seeing as how Jok was already surveying his current location, which involved the fairly standard technique of checking your corners, or rather looking left and right, he immediately noted his opponent’s sudden appearance eight meters away off to his right in his peripheral vision. If they hadn’t been in such an empty room he might not have been such an easy spot, but they were, and so it was.

Jok span around and fired in the same movement, sending a spray of deadly SMG rounds across the bare eight meter gap between the two of them as he centred in on his foe. Even as he initially turned around at least two of his four shots were roughly on target centre of mass, and as he continued to unload from the hip with a practiced ease an increasing amount of rounds would be on target and heading straight for Vos. The SMG barely moved in his Exo-suit supported arms, and the sound was negligible due to the silencer despite the nature of their location.

If his opponent moved towards him Jok would obviously shift his aim and continue to fire, the automatic function of his weapon designed for close quarter clearance such as this providing him with ample opportunity to end the fight with one quick fusillade of deadly fire.