Wanamingos, Bear thought, the lone word managing to get through the red haze of war. The spinning barrel came to a slow halt, as the Bear narrowed his eyes, casting them about, head slowly turning to try and catch the bastards before they could sneak up on him. Already, Whisper was neck deep in them, and Deathstroke on his perch was dealing with some of his own. He turned to help the team leader, the insane wastelander cast from his mind as he figured she would be killed in a matter of moments, with or without his help. As the barrel began to slowly turn, the electron packs charging up, a small shimmer crossed over his field of view. With a savage cry, he turned his weapon down, beginning to gun at the cloaked monstrosities that seemed to believe themselves his betters.
A pair uncloaked and fell under his barrage, causing a bout of hearty laughter to escape him. This was the mighty wanamingos that everyone so feared? He was still laughing as he cast his gaze around, only for it to go dark as a loud thump! sounded and a weight was pressed on his back. The metal of his power armor groaned underneath the bite of the wanamingo, and his hands released the gatling laser, allowing the precious gun to hit the ground with a clank. His hands raised up to the lips of the monster, and worked his fingers between the razor teeth. With a groan, he began to pull, the jaws slowly loosening as he forced the monstrous thing to release him. Light began to surge in, illuminating the disgusting inside of the mutant. With a mighty roar that blasted over the comms and over the area, chasing after the fleeing super mutants, he brought the wanamingo off of him and slammed it onto the ground before him. His left hand surged to his hip, gripping the pistol, as his foot shot up, hooking beneath the beast as it squirmed to get upright. The force of the kick knocked it up in the air as his plasma defender was drawn, and with a shot, the underside of its jaw and most of its mouth was melted away. It let out a shrill scream, which he silenced with a second shot. From his other hip, he retrieved the thick knife, and held it before him defensively, the pistol held loosely by his side.
Of course, this challenge was met.
A growl behind him alerted him to the presence of one, and he turned to face it, pointing the pistol in the direction and firing. The blast skidding across its side, searing the thick hide, and uncloaking it. As he readied himself to fire a killing shot, a tendril shot out, gripping his arm and pulling it astray. The second bastard wrapped its other tendril around his forearm, and began to pull them towards each other. Rather than be defeated by this thing, this abomination, the blade in his hand was turned so that the blade pointed down, and it was dug into the first tendril, holding onto his wrist. It let out a cry and loosened its grip, allowing him to point the gun straight towards its open mouth and fire. It released it, screaming in pain, but not dead. So, they were tough. The first was now upon him, though, as he turned to face it again. It leapt up onto his chest, but the Bear was not keen on seeing the inside of a wanamingo mouth again any time soon. The tendrils wrapped around his neck and upper back, forcing him towards the open jaws. Unfortunately, it did nothing against his arms. The blade was brought up first, slamming down into the top of its head. Before it could even scream in pain, the defender was raised to fire a fifth shot, blasting right through its hide and skull. The corpse slid off of him, and he turned back, only to see the one he wounded before charging him, a new friend with him.
The pair split, trying to flank him. He cursed loudly, and turned to fight the fresh one. He readjusted his blade to hold so that it was held normally, and prepared himself for the inevitable charge or launch of tendrils. Unfortunately, it never came. From behind, a set of tendrils wrapped around his lower leg, and yanked it back, forcing him to drop down to his knee, the leg stretched out behind him. Another swear, and he looked up to see the one he had been facing charging him, determined to get the kill. Stupid, stupid creature. His hand held up and entered the creatures mouth, the barrel of the pistol shoved into it. With a savage grin and a laugh, he pulled the trigger, sending a surge of plasma through the thing's stomach and out its ass. Yanking his weapon from it and pushing it off, he felt something heavy land on his back, forcing him into a laying position. He dropped his weapons beside him, and reached up to grab the tendrils as the thing leaned down to chomp his head off. With a pull, it was yanked forward, slamming into the corpse of its fallen brother. As Bear stood, it slid off, and as it tried to stand, he did what any normal person would do. With gusto, he shouted "People's elbow!" and jumped into the air, and as he fell his thickly clad elbow slammed into the side of its head, the rest of his body falling on it. With a satisfying crack! the thing stop writhing, and he hauled himself to his feet.
He stood over the corpses, huffing into his helmet, a small memory coming back to him. A burning village, him standing over it, the bodies of countless men and woman before him as the blizzard raged around him, and his men staring up at him in reverence. As he opened his eyes, he received no such praise, only an order to move on.
It seemed that while he was busy, the others were finishing up their own scraps. Retrieving his weapons, he holstered the pistol and sheathed the knife, then hefted his gatling laser. Then he followed suit as the others took off after Deathstroke. He had expected more fight from the famed super mutants and nightkin, the so-called feared army that the Master had raised so long ago. These old monstrosities should have been able to take out a few humans, especially Whisper, who had charged their lines like a damn madwoman! But no, they had allowed themselves to be bested by them. It disgusted him.
He sat silently as the mission briefing was given out, the ebony clad giant thoroughly inspecting his weapon to make sure it hadn't been damaged by the drop. Satisfied that it was, he snatched the pair of rad-x from his commander and popped off his helmet. The man beneath was bearded, the black mass tamed by a series of intricate braids that allowed it to fit beneath the helmet. His cheeks and forehead were covered by countless tiny scars, weathered flesh that looked like it belonged in the heat of the south rather than the cold of the north marred by the white marks. The pills were quickly downed and swallowed, and he shivered at the sensation. He hated swallowing those things whole, and always had to resist the urge to chomp them into dust. Once the quick act was done in a matter of seconds, the helmet was brought back on and locked around him.
The Bear rose to his feet, gripping the gatling laser tightly in his fists. "Alright then, boys," he said, beginning to walk towards the exit, ready to be back in the thick of things. "Golem and I will take front, while Ginger and Phoenix stay behind us with supporting fire. No heroics from anyone. Now, let's move." There would be no time for questions or anything against his commands unless spoken over the comms as he headed out into the street, ready to begin the mission in earnest.