Christian @ 10/6/2022 16:19

Did I do that right?

Nailed it

Sunny's Marina was buzzing with activity.

Ryan had already passed a not insignificant portion of the animal kingdom by the time his flippers hit deck. He glanced about as he went. Some slips were filled with animals on boats, some slips were filled with animals outside of boats. It looked like the godddamn Ark had capsized.

Ryan chewed his toothpick... nervously? Yeah, those were nerves. The job before the job always made him more nervous than the... job itself. Other than glances to the left and right, he walked with purpose towards the far end of the marina, where a slightly weathered, inconspicuous houseboat was docked, the name "Coop de Grace" painted down the side. There were a few figures gathered on the dock right outside of it. Ryan recognized them as he came closer. It was exactly who he was looking for - the fighting cocks he had met in prison.

And before he was upon them, one of them recognized him.

"Look what the fuckin' cat dragged in, get over here!" One of the bulky roosters called out to Ryan as he closed the gap between them. Before he knew it all three had turned to face him in acknowledgment.

"Red and the Boys!" Ryan forced a lot more enthusiasm than he actually had for them. But they had something he needed at the moment, and everyone knew the fighting cocks were ride or die once you had their respect. And the only way you got that respect was by fighting. "Cashing in that evergreen coupon you gave me for help on the outside." Ryan didn't mince words.

"Oh, hell yeah! Anything you want Big Wing!" Red said. The Boys nodded.

"Need to take the Coop for a spin. You all wouldn't shut up about the alterations your uncle made to this thing." Ryan began moving towards the house boat with an unspoken understanding.

Red shook his head and put his wing on Ryan's chest to stop him in his tracks. "Sorry man, you know me and the boys love you but no can do." Red said.

Ryan plucked his golden toothpick from his bill in disbelief. But... ride or die?

"Unless... well..." Red knocked loudly on the side of the houseboat and a much, much larger fighting rooster threw the door open and stepped out onto the docks. Ryan instinctively took a step back, but he lied to himself and said it was just to give the imposing rooster more room. "Well, you know the drill." Both Red and the Boys shrank back, and their Uncle Bruiser, cracking his wings, stepped forward.

Ryan put away the tooth pick and swallowed hard. It didn't look like Bruiser was in the mood for arm wrestling, and his fabled wing wasn't looking quite so big at the moment.

[ROLL CALL!]

Oh and PS, you definitely don't have to wait for everyone's roll call to be up before you assign yours. You can wait ofc if you wanna see your full options, but if you see one that you wanna see play out with your roll then go for it

Christian @ 10/6/2022 16:19

[ROLL CALL!]

Applying my 2.

UH OH!

Pew pew

Seems The Squawd has gotten a bit rusty!

"Good luck baby...MANNN does it feel good to be back in action!!!" Percy blurted probably a bit too loudly before giving Carmen a peck on the bill as she exited his puke green VW Bug. They had carpooled together so they could grab a quick bite of street corn before their big little job. Carmen got out about a half mile away from the docks, enough distance so no prying eyes could see her exit his garish vehicle, as well as giving some space to canvass her part of the job.

Percival sighed as he watched her tailfeathers waddle away, before pulling back onto the road and driving the rest of the way to Seagift. Truth be told, he was way more nervous than he let on. He'd barely even touched his corn, throwing away half of it while Carmen wasn't looking in order to maintain his brave face. The nervousness, of course, partially stemmed from the...last job..... but more than that, Percival simply wasn't used to being out in the field. He was much more comfortable calling the shots from his musty computer chair back home. He felt like a fish out of water... a goose out of air.

bzzzzzzt

Percival had made it to the front gate, where he came face to face with a rather imposing Russian brown bear, who was stuffed inside a far-too-small glass booth. "Mischka", his nametag read.

"Your business. State it." Mischka growled simply.

"I-I-I...*ahem*...I'm here to see an old friend. Looks a lot like me if you really squint your eyes hahaha...ha..."

Percival could see his japes were getting him nowhere, as Mischka continued to stare ahead with an unblinking glare.

"*ahem*...I-I'm of course talking about Mikhail. You know the name, yes?" Percival slipped into a Russian accent for the last part and he had no idea why.

"..."

Percival flashed an awkward smile and pushed up his glasses nervously.

"...yes. That, is boss man. Of course I know." Mischka finally replied.

"...well fantastic! So we both know Mikhail! Whaddya say you press that big blue button there, lift that gate, and then me and my old buddy Mikhail can catch up on old times? Y'know, just shoot the shit! I'm sure he'd love the surprise! Probably only take me like half an hour, tops, so don't worry about taking too much of boss man's time, y'know? You see I've got a thing at 4 and..." Percival quickly realized that he had began to ramble when a simple question would've sufficed.

He opened his mouth to say something more but soon noticed Mischka--still stone-faced as ever--reaching for something in the booth...

[ROLL CALL!]

Nene found a perch in the warehouse rafters easily. Easily! Maybe other birds would lose their touch over the years, fly a little louder, a little slower... not her. No, not her. Her eyes may have been going, but never her flight.

And the eyes were an easy fix. An easy fix indeed.

Nene looked out at the sea of boxes. The lighting is here was terrible. Obviously, they weren't about to let the contents of the containers be obvious to people like her.

Despite the distraction, there were two guards still pacing down below, though they were the weaklings of the operation, she could tell. Weaklings. A pair of... quails? chickens? ducks? Whatever they were, they were seemingly more interested in each other than doing their jobs. Tension so thick, Nene could cut it with the knife she always carried, just in case...

It was honestly a bit distracting, seeing the two staring at each other as they passed on their rounds, giving each other glances. Glances. But never words. Never telling each other how they truly felt... just looking...

Disgusting. Disgusting! She couldn't help but keep coming back to the scene, like a damn soap. She wanted to scream at them to confess their feelings already, goddamnit! Life's too short! Too short for shit like this!

But she was a professional, with a job to do. She had a job to do. And she planned to do it well.

And she needed a better angle.

While the two guards were distracted with each other, Nene craned her neck and practically hung off the rafter she was on to get a better look at the boxes below that she couldn't quite see in all the shadow. They looked suspicious. Suspicious...

Nene's joints shook as she tried to keep herself on the perch while getting the angle she needed...

[ROLL CALL]

rager Ꞧ¿Ø»Ȿ„Ǝ—drrr @ 10/6/2022 20:01

[ROLL CALL]

Giving Rose the 4

Christian @ 10/6/2022 17:19

Hell yeah, I can create a distraction, Steve thought to himself. Steve strutted his way into the shipyard, far away from everyone else. With his bright purple vest and blue tinged hair feathers, he was sure to capture someone's attention. And if that didn't work, the paintball gun certainly would! Steve peered through his super cool shades and located a guard in the middle of the shipyard, about 50 feet away. He aimed the gun high into the air and squeezed the trigger. And then he watched, as the ball of paint flew through the air and hit its point of impact---the wall behind the guard. The guard turned at the sound and moved closer to investigate the purple splatter on the wall. And then Steve aimed a second time, this time directly at the guard's back. Splat! The guard stumbled into the wall and then crumpled to the ground, his black uniform, now with splotches of purple. "HONK! HONK! HONK!" Steve exclaimed and then ran wild through the shipping yard. "I'm going to find you Janice!" he shouted. "You might have won the last game, but this one's mine!" This got the attention of the two nearby guards who quickly sprung into action. "Hey guys," Steve said to them. "Have you seen Janice? I thought this guy was her," motioning to the guard on the ground. "But it wasn't. Apologize for me when he comes to." "YOU!" the bigger, meaner looking guard boomed. "DROP THE WEAPON." "Chill out, man. We all just came here to play paintball. Where's your team at? Where are your paintball guns?" Steve asked. The guards exchanged a glance and then simultaneously pulled out their guns, aiming them at Steve. "Oh," Steve gulped. "Those don't look like paintball guns..." Steve readied himself to dodge as the bigger, meaner looking guard fired off a shot. To be continued!... [ROLL CALL!]

BANG!

"HONK!" Steve cried out. He had tried to dodge out of the way, but the bullet clipped him in his right wing.

Steve made the mistake of looking at his wound and a second bullet knocked his paintball gun out of his other hand.

"This is not chill, man!" he shouted as he tried to get away from any more impending shots.

Oh man, the Squawd is totally not going to want to hang out after this. Nene is going to be so disappointed. Ow, my wing really smarts.

So many thoughts ran through Steve's mind.

But he's been in situations like this before, and distractions were his specialty. And dagnabbit, he was doing it. He was keeping the guards in the shipping yard occupied. He was going to succeed, even though his right wing was limp and he lost his paintball gun. He was going to succeed, even if it was the last thing he did.

Steve really hoped it wouldn't be the last thing he did.

A bullet whizzed by his head, just missing his blue-dyed feathers.

"Hey! Watch the hair!"

Steve might have lost use of one of his wings, but he still had both legs. He kicked it into high gear and starting waddle-strutting as fast as could, honking as he went. Zigging this way, then zagging that way, making it harder for the guards to get a clear shot.

"I'm doing it!" he shouted, with delight.

His left foot slid in a drop of purple paint, and he skidded. But it gave him an idea.

He had one more paintball with him. He always kept one on his goose for emergencies. And this would be an emergency.

One more shot rang through the air, Steve stopped in his tracks, spun quickly and whipped the paintball right out in front of him. The bullet pierced the projectile and paint splattered and fell from the sky. The guards had been chasing after Steve and couldn't stop themselves in time and ran right into and under it.

The bigger, meaner guard slipped and fell hard, while the smaller guard got some right in his eyes, blinding him.

"Heh" Steve chuckled. "Purple rain, bitches. Purple rain."

That was so cool.

Steve looked around to see if anyone else had witnessed that triumph. He didn't see anyone.

Steve then ran to collect his paintball gun. He might still need it.

Louis reached the entrance and waddled in. The two guards nearest him had their backs to him. The two guards on the opposite side of the warehouse seemed to be distracted by something. Hopefully Steve.

He could just fly up to that steel beam on his left which was right next to the first camera. Easy peasy. Oleg's got this covered, Louis thought.

He started toward his first target when he heard a yell.

"Hey, you!"

Louis froze.

He slowly turned to look but realized both guards' backs were still turned toward the opposite end of the warehouse. And they seemed to have moved a bit farther away from him. I'm good, they weren't talking to me, Louis told himself.

"Hey!"

He heard it again. This time he turned a bit farther around and saw there was a fifth guard coming directly toward him.

"Who are you?" the guard asked in a heavy Russian accent. He was a grey goose with a sharp beak and beady little eyes. He did not look friendly, whatsoever. Louis noticed his nametag. Sergei

"I am Oleg," Louis answered, using his best fake Russian accent.

"I not see you here before." Sergei challenged.

"No, it is first day for me." Louis answered.

Sergei's eyes narrowed. He put his walkie talkie to his mouth and pressed the talk button.

[ROLL CALL!]

JJ @ 10/6/2022 20:54

Louis reached the entrance and waddled in. The two guards nearest him had their backs to them. The two guards on the opposite side of the warehouse seemed to be distracted by something. Hopefully Steve. He could just fly up to that steel beam on his left which was right next to the first camera. Easy peasy. Oleg's got this covered, Louis thought. He started toward his first target when he heard a yell. "Hey, you!" Louis froze. He slowly turned to look but realized both guards' backs were still turned toward the opposite end of the warehouse. And they seemed to have moved a bit farther away from him. I'm good, they weren't talking to me, Louis told himself. "Hey!" He heard it again. This time he turned a bit farther around and saw there was a fifth guard coming directly toward him. "Who are you?" the guard asked in a heavy Russian accent. He was a grey goose with a sharp beak and beady little eyes. He did not look friendly, whatsoever. Louis noticed his nametag. Sergei "I am Oleg," Louis answered, using his best fake Russian accent. "I not see you here before." Sergei challenged. "No, it is first day for me." Louis answered. Sergei's eyes narrowed. He put his walkie talkie to his mouth and pressed the talk button. [ROLL CALL!]

You may have my number 4.