User:Arnout aka The Emperors Angel/RPG/Filler

Arnout jumped high into the sky, and deployed his wings. Slowly hovering down, he had is computer scan the police websites for crimes going on. It came up with nothing. “What? No crime?” Arnout thought to himself, and to his computer. “No reported crimes, Arnout.” His computer responded. “Oh well, the good old fashioned way then...” Arnout thought. Setting down his suit, he set a course for the highest point in the vicinity; the Big Ben.

After reaching the Big Ben, he jumped up to the edge of the roof. After setting down his stabilising units, he deployed his sniper rifle. Arnout muttered to himself; “Come to daddy, badguys...”

After a while of scouting out London, Arnout’s computer warned him of a bank robbing going down. Arnout turned his rifle towards the financial district, and zoomed in on the bank. Mentally, he ordered his computer to load a tracking device. “Let’s do this the right way, for a change.” He thought. His computer warned him: “Arnout, the chest area of the suit can only take a few dozen more hits, and then it will need either very expansive repairs, or a complete change.” Arnout grunted in reply, and jumped off the Big Ben, too make his way to the bank.

Before Arnout could reach the scene of the crime, his computer informed him that the robbers had left the bank, and where now on the run. Arnout asked for a location, and jumped high into the sky, engaging his rifle. While hovering, he targeted the robbers’ getaway car, and fired. His computer confirmed a hit, and provided a map of London, giving away the robbers’ location.

Arnout hit the ground hard, and his computer warned him; “Arnout, we are down to 50% power. We only have enough power left for 4 more long jumps. And that last landing was too hard; you need to slow down more before touching down.” “Jeez, I should ask Dorres to make me a mute button.” Arnout replied, irritated. Not reacting to Arnout’s sarcasm, his computer replied. “If you are going to ask mister Dorres for a mute button, then ask him to repair the chest area too.” Arnout didn’t even answer, but jumped into the sky fast, closing in on the bank robbers.

After two more jumps, Arnout had caught up with the fleeing bank robbers. Opening his external communication channels, he mumbled to himself; “Hold on to yar suspenders.” And next, he roared: “COWWAAAAABUNGGGAAAAA!!!!!!!!!” whilst landing on the trunk of the getaway car.

Arnout crashed straight through the trunk of the car, impaling it to the ground. Inside his helmet, a series of alarms started ringing. With a firm mental swipe, he dismissed the alarms, and then proceeded to fire his beanbag shotguns at the rear window of the car, destroying it. He turned on his pepper spray dispensers, and flooded the car with it. The robbers came crawling out of the car, completely disorientated, one of them vomiting. Arnout raised his arms to each side of the car, and tasered all four robbers. Freeing himself from the wreckage, he said to the bystanders; “That’s what you get for going down the wrong path people. Stay stafe.”

With those words, he tried to jump up, but the alarms started blearing again. His computer informed him about the situation; “Arnout, we have power for one more jump. But we have lost half the function in the right leg, and the left leg has lost 90 percent of its function. We can’t jump.” “F**K!!” Arnout shouted. “Can we run? We have to get out of here!” “The suit can run, for about a mile.”

Arnout ran, and ran and ran. Panting for breath, he stopped in a dark alley. Arnout switched visors, and checked the shadows with his night vision. “No sign of life, Arnout.” The computer commented. “Good. Call Dorris, and tell him I need a tech crew here ASAP.”

Arnout hated queues. They made him anxious, and nervous. His computer tried to calm him, responding to Arnout’s heightened stress levels. “Arnout, there is nothing to worry about. This bank is perfectly safe, and cameras are watching every corner.” “I hate cameras too.” Arnout thought back to his computer. “They see all, and record all. I don’t want my identity all over the web.”

After 15 long minutes of waiting, Arnout finally made it to the front of the line. Just as he started talking to the woman behind the counter, four women walked into the bank, and the metal detectors started blearing. “Great.” I’m screwed.” Arnout thought, just as the women pulled out machineguns and opened fire on the security robots. It wasn’t a fair fight. The robots, which where only carrying non-lethal weapons, where shot to bits. As one, the women ejected their empty magazines, and reloaded. “Everyone on the floor, NOW!” a blond, petite woman shouted, waving her gun at the crowd. Arnout, who was already on the floor, tried to make himself even more casual, hoping they wouldn’t take note of him. “Shit me, I wish I had brought my gun with me.” His computer replied, deploying only logic; “If you had brought your gun, you would not have made into the bank, Arnout.” Arnout grunted in reply. “Get me a detailed map of this place. I need a way out.”

During this short mental conversation, the women had disarmed the two guards, who had been overseeing the security bots. Arnout took the time to seize up his hostage takers; “Woa, that’s a bunch of fine looking women... And they’re pretty well dressed too...” “Arnout, this is not really the time to be admiring our enemy.” “I know, but still. If you ever get to be taken hostage, they best be beautiful.” “Arnout, the police are on their way. We have to find a way out.” “You have a map? We’ll use the normal distraction routine.” “The toilets offer a 87% chance of escape, if we can avoid the camera.” “Get ready to deploy the distraction. On my mark.” Arnout carefully watched the women, as they threatened the clerks behind the counters for money. His computer warned him. “Arnout, the police are coming in, and Vindicator is leading the charge.” “Fuck. Okies, we’re going.” Arnout’s computer had broken in to the bank alarm system, and fired everything at the same time. The banks sirens went off and the sprinklers joined in. The safety doors started closing, and safety glass dropped from the ceiling to protect the clerks. The women didn’t like this, and started shooting. With bullets flying, Arnout crawled towards the toilet, as the police made entry; “POLICE! DROP THOSE GUNS! WE WANT TO SEE HANDS!!” Two of the women lowered their weapons, but the other two opened fire on the policemen. The officers took cover behind the safety doors, which had now nearly closed and returned fire, cutting down the still standing woman. Arnout had nearly crawled his way to the toilets, and was praying for the confusion to last a few more minutes, so he could get away. “Arnout, the last male toilet. There is a vent shaft in the wall.”

Once he made it to the hallway, Arnout got up and ran for it. “Arnout, Vindicator has made entry. To say the least, shit has hit the fan.” Arnout returned a thought; “Hey, that’s my line. Also, glad to see some new language.” Arnout reached the vent shaft, and pulled it loose. “Arnout, police web-traffic is claiming 10 bad guys were killed.” “WHAT? There were only 4 bad-girls to begin with!” “I know. First on the left, 2nd on the right. Down two floors and we will have reached the sewers.”

Arnout crawled out of the manhole, all stinking and wet. “Call me a cab. I want to go home, and change. Then I’m gonna get drunk.

Arnout stepped out of the shower, and with his towel wrapped around his waist, walked to his desk-top. “Arnout, Mr. Dorres contacted us. We are to go to his headquearters, Sunday, at 8 p.m. “Good, that leaves plenty of time for the drinking of large qualities of alcohol. And now shut up. I don’t want to hear you, for, say, the next 36 hours. Understood?” Yes Arnout. Only in emergencies.”

Arnout got out of the cab, and threw up again. “OOOOAAAAHHHH my head!” “Arnout, it would appear you have the classical symptoms of a hangover.” “Thanks mommy” Arnout complained as he stumbled into the lobby, and bumped into the receptionist desk. The woman behind it looked up, and without even showing her disgust for his vomit stained shirt. “You are here for Mr. Dorres, I presume?” Yeah, handsome. Here for Mr Dorres, that’s for sure.” “Arnout! Behave yourself!” his computer reprimanded Arnout.” Arnout winked at the receptionist, and suppressed a new wave of vomit. “Where do I go?” “One of Mr. Dorres his employees will be here to collect you shortly. If you wish to refresh yourself, the toilets are just over there.” Instead of saying thanks, Arnout raced off to the toilets, only to be found moments later by Shepart, whilst hanging over a toilet. “So mister Fowl, are we doing all right?” “O, shut up, and take me to Dorres will you?” “Certainly, Mr Fowl. If you would be so kind to follow me?” After a short walk through what seemed to Arnout as a highly fortified building, they stopped at a elevator. “Once you go down, the first room on the left. Don’t wander off. There is a toilet in that room, and there is a sink, if you wish yourself.” “Thanks, asshole. I’ll remember you for a long time...” The goon nodded regretfully. “I’m sorry about that, sir. But sometimes you have to do things we don’t like.” Arnout got in the elevator, and hit the button, and sighted to himself; “Damn, what did I get myself in now?” Once the elevator had reached the bottom, Arnout got out, and walked into the first room on the left. Arnout found a couch, and quickly fell asleep.

Arnout was putting on his body armour. "Sheez, this going to be hot..." Looking into the mirror in his room, he realised he looked ridiculous. "Is this what their assault teams wear?" Arnout was dressed in what looked like long silk pyjamas, completely white. Over the pyjamas he was wearing his personal armour.

The biggest part of his armour was Arnout's borst curcas which fit him like a glove, matching shoulder pieces protecting Arnout's arms down to the elbow protectors, and underarm shielding down to his wrists. To protect the manly parts of their assault teams, the personal armour also included a bullet resistant cup. Arnout's thighs where protected by armour too, all the way down to his knees, where Arnout had strapped on knee protectors. The final touch was made by the shin guards, which covered Arnout's legs from the knee down.

"I have to wear a suit over this?" Arnout sceptically looked at the suit that had just been delivered to his room. "Yes Arnout. It might be wise to apply some deodorant before leaving."

Arnout aka The Emperors Angel 20:57, 20 November 2011 (UTC)