Personality; Mira is a dedicated soldier. She puts saving other people before her own safety, but, this does not mean she will simply throw her life away. She likes to think of tactics and strategies, and can quickly come up with a new plan in the middle of battle. She does not like fighting in close-combat due to an incident with a creeper, but, she will fight at that distance if needed.
Skills; Mira is a skilled sniper, as well as a skilled swordsman. She knows some engineering, and has some skill in flying helicopters. Whether or not the last skill will actually benefit her now is unknown, however.
Bio; Mira was born in Osaka, Japan. She had been trained in swordsmanship, being taught kendo since she was 5. She also began taking various martial arts classes when she was 10, and continued to take them up until she was 17. She moved to America when she was 18, and joined the army. She was trained to be a tactical sniper, and, by the time she was 19, was already extremely skilled in using them.
Mira was flying a helicopter from a Navy carrier ship to Australia a year ago when all she heard over the radio was screaming. They were told to get to safety, but it was too late. Suddenly, a bright red light sliced through the middle of the helicopter, splitting it in two. Half of the soldiers had died as it did. Mira told the remaining soldiers to put on their parachutes- They were going to jump. When they finally landed, they saw the helicopter crash a few hundred yards away. They made their way to the crash sight, and salvaged any water they could. Looking around, they were in the middle of a desert, with no sign of life anywhere, except for these things...
Mira and her crew had to fight their way through the hordes for half a year, only occasionally finding food and water in the desert. One of the soldiers died from heat, another from those damned baby-things. Mira and her only remaining fellow soldier took the ammunition of their old comrades, and continued walking towards a set of coordinates they had been given before crashing. Three days ago, Miras last comrade died of dehydration, and now she is out here, alone, fighting her way to those coordinates, hoping to find life sometime soon.
Appearance; Mira has long black hair, tied back into a pony tail. She is 5'7", and weights around 125 lbs. She wears a black tank top, and camo pants with typical black military boots. On top of this, she has a bullet proof vest, dark sunglasses, and black fingerless gloves.
Equipment; Mira carries a silenced sniper rifle upgraded with an variable zoom scope, and three spare clips. She also carries two silenced pistols, each with two spare clips. She has Night Vision goggles slung around her neck, and light-weight gear, allowing her to run faster. Finally, she has her family's heirloom slung over her back: An old Katana, which is still sharp enough to easily slice through most living organisms.
One-liner; Mira, the tactical sniper.
#!#
(( And, for fun posting, i would like to start outside. =p I like my dramatic intro's! xD))
** Accepted. But, no. Sorry. Have to be inside. Not going through the trouble of getting you inside. You could be captured via the roving helicopters? *
(( Was gonna post her outside-part as an event prior to the current time. :3 And, okay. I'll have her get knocked out, hear helicopters, and when she wakes up, she'll be inside. xD))
** Alright. I suppose you'll be dumped at the front gate with 50 dollars or something. I've no idea. Just, jump into roleplay. You'll probably encounter us, but if you want to be a part of the squad, you have to show us your physical prowess. Attack us or something, I dunno. *
"Eh? Whats this..." He fumbled with the pistol, and nearly shot his foot off. "Oh sweet baby Jesus, that was close!" He exclaimed, raising the pistol to eye level.
"Not gonna do for me. Hands are too shaky. I have terrible eyesight. Plus..." He said, giving the pistol back.
"It'd be too tempting to blow my own brains out."
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To all new RPers... Participate before you Create!
"Then I'm afraid you can't take part in Comatose. Maybe as a scientist, a figure of research. Unless you can prove your worth and take down guards with those knives..."
He grinned a classic horror-movie smile.
"You know those thrillers, how one guy goes insane when he sees his daughter or someone along those lines dies, and nobody can stop is rampage? Trust me, with these knives, I AM that villain." He stood up, and reached for the small pink bicycle sitting in the middle of the room. It looked incredibly out of place.
"I'll get my revenge, darling. Those little bastards won't hurt you anymore... They can't touch your grave..."
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Ian smiled at the man's insane temperament. "Overwatch patrol is outside in 5. They pass this route every day at exactly 5:30, you're going to kill all three of them, including the officer. They've not only been a nuisance to our cell in this area, they've been harassing the locals. If you can't handle them, we'll be watching from the opposite alley. Sound like a deal?" His smile turned grim at the incoming death.
(( AH, I've been waiting for someone to make a modern day RP since it's hard for me to RP using medieval words and stuff, hah. And sorry if it's similar to any other characters. I had this made since I saw the topic created but decided to wait, fell asleep, and here I am now. ))
Name; John Mars
Age; 27
Personality; John has a very 'military' attitued. Very serious, very strict, and very respectful. Brave. But he's also very confident about his combat abilities, almost cocky. He prefers to work alone and only follows others who have had military training. Despite his military behavior, he will loosen up once you get to know him. He CAN be a jokester.
Skills; Marksman. He's good with just about every type of rifle, but is especially good wiith bolt action rifles. His disadvantage is up close. He can disarm foes, but his fighting style is very ' street fighting '. He can survive in just about every environment, he's a survivalist. He can create useful tools out of what seems like garbage. Can also pick locks.
Bio;
" I saw it all happen. I was there. I was part of an enormous counter attack taking place in my hometown, New York City.. Or, what was left of it when we got there. The mission was simple; Search and rescue any survivors and eliminate the enemy presence. Impossible.. maybe, but that's why they didn't send in just anyone, they sent us.
I've served in the military since I was old enough to join, but I had never been part of such a major attack. I wouldn't be surpirsed if we broke records that day. We were the tip of the spear, rolling in with all we had. I've never seen so many tanks in my life. We had air support. A lot of it. We also also had naval support. Those damn guns never stopped firing. I can still hear the ringing in my ears just thinking about it..
We marched right in there. We fought day and night. Not that we kept track of time, we couldn't even see the sun, the alien ship hovered over us, it was always dark. We were winning. We must have been. But nothing prepared us for the enemy we were facing. It was unlike any other. We took a lot of casualties. But we never lost hope. We stayed faithful, 'till the end.
Four months. That's how long we held our ground. But then our men started dropping like flies. An invisible enemy. Something we couldn't fight back. Infection. We were forced to retreat, but the fighting wasn't over. We were sent to help those in other cities.. cities that weren't hit as badly.. cities that still had a chance. Eventually we were sent over to Australia. Our mission; Assist the armies there. We were to hold back the enemy until safe bunkers were built for the population. They didn't tell us much about them.
We succeded. The bunkers were built, but that didn't stop the enemy. If anything, it pissed them off. We held them back for aslong as we could, but eventually, we too were forced to fall back. Now I'm stuck in here. Three years of non - stop fighting, countless lives saved means nothing around here. Not that I'd like to be seen as a hero, but a nice plate of hot food wouldn't hurt. Instead I sleep in a room no bigger than the inside of a car, having to fight for food. This is the thanks we get after all we've done. "
Appearance; John has black hair, not long, not sure. Medium lengh. He has a black, good looking beard ( Not island survivor beard ). He's white skinned, and tall ( Can't make up my mind, he's about 6 feet tall. ) with brown eyes. He has a very serious, yet friendly - looking face. When you see him, you immiately think he's strict, but you also see a great person behind it. His body build is atletic. His clothing/armor looks like this ( Asumming it links to the right picture, the red uniform with a hood, ignore the other sets of clothing and his facial features don't look like the guy in the picture ) ; Click
Equipment; He has a damaged bolt action hunting rifle that tends to jam, often in the worst of times. As a secondary weapon he carries a crowbar. Other equipment; water canteen, rope and flash light among other equipment like ammo.
Updated euipment: 45. Pistol, no ammo.
One-liner; John, the skilled survivalist and soldier.
(( This character is similar to one I made for an RP that never really took off. ))
"Sounds fun. I'd prefer aliens, but... The bloodshed will keep my baby happy for now." He whispered, twirling his blades. He stepped outside, and leaned against a wall, waiting.
"I'll wait for them. I don't even know what year it is anymore. Time is nothing for me. I'll just... wait."
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To all new RPers... Participate before you Create!
** Still, amazing apps, I don't care that you've forgot #!#. You're in. Jump in at any time, but remember, you're inside. Meet up with the squad, we need you. *
Ian and his two pals followed, guns in check. All three were ready to pull their guns if the man needed help. They sat in the alley opposite of Aleksendr. Of course, soon enough, three heavily armed guards strolled through. Their gear tossed and tumbled as they stepped, causing quite a bit of noise. The lead man, covered in extremely thick padding of bulletproof vests and padding, toted a massive M249, holding two hundred bullets, wrapped over his shoulder. He hoisted it in both hands, forever alert. A bowie knife stuck from a sheath on his chest, ready for use. The other two were lightly armored, carrying hand guns. One spoke, and the lead unit turned and struck him across the face. Blood squirted across the sandy ground, and they continued. He shimmied away from the main guard, but still followed, his eyes in terror. As they neared Aleksender, Beater and his friends raised their weapons, nodding to the insane mathematician. "It's go time."
"Ah, well, hello sir. Pleasure to meet your aquaintance. You see, I'd just like to let you know that you and your group are about to die an incredibly painful death." He smiled, and rose is knives. He tossed both of them at two of the guards, thudding into their necks. Simple. They were so unsespecting. A mentally damaged mathmatician? Psh. He wouldn't throw butcher knives at us. Aleksendr chuckled silently at their ignorance. The leader was struck with surprise, and rose his heavy rifle as quick as he could. He clearly wasn't all that trained in it, so Aleksendr has enough time to dive in too close for the gun to hit him, without hitting the leader.
"I'd tell you to reach for your bowie knife, but it's gone. When you throw both of your murderous weapons at someone elses comrades, you need to make up for it." He grinned disgustingly, and lifted the leaders visor.
"Nighty night." He whispered, and brought the bowie knife straight down into the leaders face.
"Hah! That was all!? You guys call yourselves trained military experts? ********. Back in Russia, I'd be dead by now." He spat, and walked back to the watching men. "It would of been harder if they weren't got of guard, but, they are dead. Gone. Poof."
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To all new RPers... Participate before you Create!
(( Ah, sorry. I swear I read the rules, but I always forget those. Most of the time I have time to edit it in before anyone reads it, but this time I completely forgot. ))
(( I'll wait until something happens before jumping in. Say Carver is just one of the many civilians that are walking around, if there's any. He'll join in if all hell breaks loose or something, if not, then I'll have him join in later. ))
Ian smiled as the guards emerged from the shadows behind Aleksendr. He hadn't mentioned that they were the ones to resume the dead guard's patrol, and they now raised their guns. All three held pistols, but had caught the insane mathematician off guard.
"Put your hands up! You've got three seconds before we fire!"
Ian and his men had blended into the alley's shadows, and were therefore unseen. Citizens passing by saw the guns and the screaming men... and that's about when things got hectic. It all started by a woman carrying a baby who screamed, therefore tripping over a rock. That woman then was plowed right into a line for a shop, then angering the line. As their anger rose, the man the woman had tripped on spilled his water all over everyone around him. That's when the man behind him placed a perfect uppercut right into his chin, throwing him against another man. In about five seconds, there was ten fights erupting throughout the area. The guards followed through on their order and fired, two bullets zinging off the alley wall, the last hitting Ian's friend in the chest. He gasped as it struck home into his bulletproof vest, leaving a massive bruise, but nothing incredibly bad.
** More guards came, and they're firing at you. They all missed. One bullet hit my guy's friend. You've got to kill them, it was part of your mission I didn't mention so we could see how good you were. *
"Oh dear, we have company." He groaned. He picked up his daughters bike, and threw it at the guards that were coming his way. It knocked one of them over, and confused the other two. Diving at them, he screamed a classic horror-movie blood-curdling scream that would etch into their minds, for the rest of their very short lives. Taking his brand new Bowie Knife, which he would name Stevie, he brought the blade down to the face of the one guard on the ground. Blood splatted everywhere, and Aleksendr licked his lips as it sprayed against him. Standing up slowly, looking quite horrifying with blood covered everywhere on his body, he asked one simple question.
"Would you like to run away, or die slowly?" He smiled, and raised the knife.
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All hell broke loose, without warning. Which, wasn't surpising around here. Carver was caught right in the middle of it. One man went to punch him, for no damn reason. But Carver dodged the attack, grabbing his arm and twisting it as hard as he could until the man begged for him to stop. So he did. Ahead of him, three guards fired their weapons carelessly into a group of civilians, something Carver wasn't going to stand by and watch. He ran toward one of the guards, the one to the far right. Catching him off guard from behind, he took out his crowbad and hit the guard directly on the back of his right knee. This caused the guard to fall onto his back. From there, Carver put his boot to the guard's face and took the pistol off his hands. The guard in the middle was now starting to turn around, having heard his friend go down. The guard turned to face Carver, and Carver simply put the gun to his face. Simultaneosly hitting the guard's hand with his free hand. He hit the guard's hand in right spot, sending the pistol flying right off his hands. Only one guard remained, and Carver had a hostage.
(( I'm talking about the three original guards that fired, I'm a little bit confused. ))
** EDIT: Damn. Hug, how about that was another patrol you killed? That was running to help? Because Neil had it handled. *
The man froze in terror, throwing his gun at Aleksendr and running. He tripped right onto his fallen buddies, throwing up because of the blood. Ian and his friends walked out, the one who had been shot a bit flustered. "Amazing job, Alek. I hope you don't mind if I call you
Alek, your real name is a bit hard." He put his arm on the man's shoulder. "Come with us, to our compound, eh?"
The guard stared into Carver's eyes, speechless, and obviously scared to death. " Don't move. " Carver ordered, pulling the guard to him. He turned the guard around, wrapped his arm around the guard's neck and put the pistol to his head. The other guard dropped his weapon and put his arms up, not wanting his friend killed over him trying to be a hero. That's when more heavily armed guard's arrived. Two guards entered the area from the other side of the room, both carrying assault rifles, and opened up on everyone. Everyone. People screaming in pain, dying, bleeding out, it was mayhem. The guard with his arms up took this opportunity to attack, or.. he hoped.. Carver shot him right in the face as soon as he went to grab the gun and in one fluid motion, spun around to face the guards with the assault rifles, kicked the hostage forward and used his body as cover to get the hell out of the room. Following other civilians trying to get out.
Age; 27
Personality; Mira is a dedicated soldier. She puts saving other people before her own safety, but, this does not mean she will simply throw her life away. She likes to think of tactics and strategies, and can quickly come up with a new plan in the middle of battle. She does not like fighting in close-combat due to an incident with a creeper, but, she will fight at that distance if needed.
Skills; Mira is a skilled sniper, as well as a skilled swordsman. She knows some engineering, and has some skill in flying helicopters. Whether or not the last skill will actually benefit her now is unknown, however.
Bio; Mira was born in Osaka, Japan. She had been trained in swordsmanship, being taught kendo since she was 5. She also began taking various martial arts classes when she was 10, and continued to take them up until she was 17. She moved to America when she was 18, and joined the army. She was trained to be a tactical sniper, and, by the time she was 19, was already extremely skilled in using them.
Mira was flying a helicopter from a Navy carrier ship to Australia a year ago when all she heard over the radio was screaming. They were told to get to safety, but it was too late. Suddenly, a bright red light sliced through the middle of the helicopter, splitting it in two. Half of the soldiers had died as it did. Mira told the remaining soldiers to put on their parachutes- They were going to jump. When they finally landed, they saw the helicopter crash a few hundred yards away. They made their way to the crash sight, and salvaged any water they could. Looking around, they were in the middle of a desert, with no sign of life anywhere, except for these things...
Mira and her crew had to fight their way through the hordes for half a year, only occasionally finding food and water in the desert. One of the soldiers died from heat, another from those damned baby-things. Mira and her only remaining fellow soldier took the ammunition of their old comrades, and continued walking towards a set of coordinates they had been given before crashing. Three days ago, Miras last comrade died of dehydration, and now she is out here, alone, fighting her way to those coordinates, hoping to find life sometime soon.
Appearance; Mira has long black hair, tied back into a pony tail. She is 5'7", and weights around 125 lbs. She wears a black tank top, and camo pants with typical black military boots. On top of this, she has a bullet proof vest, dark sunglasses, and black fingerless gloves.
Equipment; Mira carries a silenced sniper rifle upgraded with an variable zoom scope, and three spare clips. She also carries two silenced pistols, each with two spare clips. She has Night Vision goggles slung around her neck, and light-weight gear, allowing her to run faster. Finally, she has her family's heirloom slung over her back: An old Katana, which is still sharp enough to easily slice through most living organisms.
One-liner; Mira, the tactical sniper.
#!#
(( And, for fun posting, i would like to start outside. =p I like my dramatic intro's! xD))
~DED
~DED
"Eh? Whats this..." He fumbled with the pistol, and nearly shot his foot off. "Oh sweet baby Jesus, that was close!" He exclaimed, raising the pistol to eye level.
"Not gonna do for me. Hands are too shaky. I have terrible eyesight. Plus..." He said, giving the pistol back.
"It'd be too tempting to blow my own brains out."
"You know those thrillers, how one guy goes insane when he sees his daughter or someone along those lines dies, and nobody can stop is rampage? Trust me, with these knives, I AM that villain." He stood up, and reached for the small pink bicycle sitting in the middle of the room. It looked incredibly out of place.
"I'll get my revenge, darling. Those little bastards won't hurt you anymore... They can't touch your grave..."
Name; John Mars
Age; 27
Personality; John has a very 'military' attitued. Very serious, very strict, and very respectful. Brave. But he's also very confident about his combat abilities, almost cocky. He prefers to work alone and only follows others who have had military training. Despite his military behavior, he will loosen up once you get to know him. He CAN be a jokester.
Skills; Marksman. He's good with just about every type of rifle, but is especially good wiith bolt action rifles. His disadvantage is up close. He can disarm foes, but his fighting style is very ' street fighting '. He can survive in just about every environment, he's a survivalist. He can create useful tools out of what seems like garbage. Can also pick locks.
Bio;
" I saw it all happen. I was there. I was part of an enormous counter attack taking place in my hometown, New York City.. Or, what was left of it when we got there. The mission was simple; Search and rescue any survivors and eliminate the enemy presence. Impossible.. maybe, but that's why they didn't send in just anyone, they sent us.
I've served in the military since I was old enough to join, but I had never been part of such a major attack. I wouldn't be surpirsed if we broke records that day. We were the tip of the spear, rolling in with all we had. I've never seen so many tanks in my life. We had air support. A lot of it. We also also had naval support. Those damn guns never stopped firing. I can still hear the ringing in my ears just thinking about it..
We marched right in there. We fought day and night. Not that we kept track of time, we couldn't even see the sun, the alien ship hovered over us, it was always dark. We were winning. We must have been. But nothing prepared us for the enemy we were facing. It was unlike any other. We took a lot of casualties. But we never lost hope. We stayed faithful, 'till the end.
Four months. That's how long we held our ground. But then our men started dropping like flies. An invisible enemy. Something we couldn't fight back. Infection. We were forced to retreat, but the fighting wasn't over. We were sent to help those in other cities.. cities that weren't hit as badly.. cities that still had a chance. Eventually we were sent over to Australia. Our mission; Assist the armies there. We were to hold back the enemy until safe bunkers were built for the population. They didn't tell us much about them.
We succeded. The bunkers were built, but that didn't stop the enemy. If anything, it pissed them off. We held them back for aslong as we could, but eventually, we too were forced to fall back. Now I'm stuck in here. Three years of non - stop fighting, countless lives saved means nothing around here. Not that I'd like to be seen as a hero, but a nice plate of hot food wouldn't hurt. Instead I sleep in a room no bigger than the inside of a car, having to fight for food. This is the thanks we get after all we've done. "
Appearance; John has black hair, not long, not sure. Medium lengh. He has a black, good looking beard ( Not island survivor beard ). He's white skinned, and tall ( Can't make up my mind, he's about 6 feet tall. ) with brown eyes. He has a very serious, yet friendly - looking face. When you see him, you immiately think he's strict, but you also see a great person behind it. His body build is atletic. His clothing/armor looks like this ( Asumming it links to the right picture, the red uniform with a hood, ignore the other sets of clothing and his facial features don't look like the guy in the picture ) ; Click
Equipment; He has a damaged bolt action hunting rifle that tends to jam, often in the worst of times. As a secondary weapon he carries a crowbar. Other equipment; water canteen, rope and flash light among other equipment like ammo.
Updated euipment: 45. Pistol, no ammo.
One-liner; John, the skilled survivalist and soldier.
(( This character is similar to one I made for an RP that never really took off. ))
"I'll wait for them. I don't even know what year it is anymore. Time is nothing for me. I'll just... wait."
Ian and his two pals followed, guns in check. All three were ready to pull their guns if the man needed help. They sat in the alley opposite of Aleksendr. Of course, soon enough, three heavily armed guards strolled through. Their gear tossed and tumbled as they stepped, causing quite a bit of noise. The lead man, covered in extremely thick padding of bulletproof vests and padding, toted a massive M249, holding two hundred bullets, wrapped over his shoulder. He hoisted it in both hands, forever alert. A bowie knife stuck from a sheath on his chest, ready for use. The other two were lightly armored, carrying hand guns. One spoke, and the lead unit turned and struck him across the face. Blood squirted across the sandy ground, and they continued. He shimmied away from the main guard, but still followed, his eyes in terror. As they neared Aleksender, Beater and his friends raised their weapons, nodding to the insane mathematician. "It's go time."
"I'd tell you to reach for your bowie knife, but it's gone. When you throw both of your murderous weapons at someone elses comrades, you need to make up for it." He grinned disgustingly, and lifted the leaders visor.
"Nighty night." He whispered, and brought the bowie knife straight down into the leaders face.
"Hah! That was all!? You guys call yourselves trained military experts? ********. Back in Russia, I'd be dead by now." He spat, and walked back to the watching men. "It would of been harder if they weren't got of guard, but, they are dead. Gone. Poof."
(( I'll wait until something happens before jumping in. Say Carver is just one of the many civilians that are walking around, if there's any. He'll join in if all hell breaks loose or something, if not, then I'll have him join in later. ))
Ian smiled as the guards emerged from the shadows behind Aleksendr. He hadn't mentioned that they were the ones to resume the dead guard's patrol, and they now raised their guns. All three held pistols, but had caught the insane mathematician off guard.
"Put your hands up! You've got three seconds before we fire!"
Ian and his men had blended into the alley's shadows, and were therefore unseen. Citizens passing by saw the guns and the screaming men... and that's about when things got hectic. It all started by a woman carrying a baby who screamed, therefore tripping over a rock. That woman then was plowed right into a line for a shop, then angering the line. As their anger rose, the man the woman had tripped on spilled his water all over everyone around him. That's when the man behind him placed a perfect uppercut right into his chin, throwing him against another man. In about five seconds, there was ten fights erupting throughout the area. The guards followed through on their order and fired, two bullets zinging off the alley wall, the last hitting Ian's friend in the chest. He gasped as it struck home into his bulletproof vest, leaving a massive bruise, but nothing incredibly bad.
"Oh dear, we have company." He groaned. He picked up his daughters bike, and threw it at the guards that were coming his way. It knocked one of them over, and confused the other two. Diving at them, he screamed a classic horror-movie blood-curdling scream that would etch into their minds, for the rest of their very short lives. Taking his brand new Bowie Knife, which he would name Stevie, he brought the blade down to the face of the one guard on the ground. Blood splatted everywhere, and Aleksendr licked his lips as it sprayed against him. Standing up slowly, looking quite horrifying with blood covered everywhere on his body, he asked one simple question.
"Would you like to run away, or die slowly?" He smiled, and raised the knife.
(( I'm talking about the three original guards that fired, I'm a little bit confused. ))
The man froze in terror, throwing his gun at Aleksendr and running. He tripped right onto his fallen buddies, throwing up because of the blood. Ian and his friends walked out, the one who had been shot a bit flustered. "Amazing job, Alek. I hope you don't mind if I call you
Alek, your real name is a bit hard." He put his arm on the man's shoulder. "Come with us, to our compound, eh?"
The guard stared into Carver's eyes, speechless, and obviously scared to death. " Don't move. " Carver ordered, pulling the guard to him. He turned the guard around, wrapped his arm around the guard's neck and put the pistol to his head. The other guard dropped his weapon and put his arms up, not wanting his friend killed over him trying to be a hero. That's when more heavily armed guard's arrived. Two guards entered the area from the other side of the room, both carrying assault rifles, and opened up on everyone. Everyone. People screaming in pain, dying, bleeding out, it was mayhem. The guard with his arms up took this opportunity to attack, or.. he hoped.. Carver shot him right in the face as soon as he went to grab the gun and in one fluid motion, spun around to face the guards with the assault rifles, kicked the hostage forward and used his body as cover to get the hell out of the room. Following other civilians trying to get out.