Gregory P. Wong
"Okay, we got this," StreetSoldier said calmly. "This is a T map, no problem, right guys? Don't leave the hosties uncovered."
"Okay, okay, we get the picture, Street," Mao said tiredly. "You've told us, what, fifty fucking times?"
"You know what, Mao-" Street began.
As the two bickered, Caboose took a quick look over the team.
Rhino, Solza, Mao, Tiger, Rah, and Freeway all toted fully loaded AK-47s. All of them, except Mao, who was currently telling Street to do something incredibly unnatural to his mother, had all purchased Desert Eagle "hand cannons" as secondaries. Mao always said he couldn't do shit with pistols, so he wasn't going to waste 650$ on something that wasn't going to save him.
Jive, Dan, and Nox had other weapons, SIG 552 rifles. Jive was a bit giddy, since he was going to show a name for the illustrious Hi^5 clan, which had been graced by the likes of the extraordinary Little Billy.
The fact that Billy was a shield user, an all-around goofball, and someone obsessed with the acronym "lol" escaped his attention, of course. But that's Jive for you.
Churchill, as usual, carried his usual load of 7.63 NATO Steyr Scout-Accept no Substitutes, bitches-with a Desert Eagle pistol. As usual, his spot near Apartments was calling for him. He was expecting... oh, fifteen kills today. Anything less and he was going to slap his roommate (who, coincidentally, wasn't Mao for this year). The Steyr Scout that was going to be the death of fifteen or more CTs-God help Matt if it wasn't-was heavily stylized. In between the shooting of peoples' heads off and studying, Church had discovered his artistic side, yes-siree. If his Scout wasn't the most pimped out firearm on the map, he would eat Mao's AK.
StreetSoldier, who was telling Mao to do something extremely unnatural to a walrus and PheerMee, held an M3 Super 90 12-gauage pumpgun. After all, this wasn't IRL, and you could respawn in non-IRL, so why not get up close and personal?
MasterShafter, interestingly, only carried a Mac10. The hell?
"Shafter, that's, uh, kinda light," Caboose noted.
"I run faster with a Mac10. Running faster with a Mac10 means I can get closer. Getting closer to the enemy means I can bring out my knife. You run faster with a knife. When I'm running faster with a knife, I get really close. Really close means I get a shaft," Shafter babbled.
"Ooookay, Shafter, that's all good."
He, Caboose, carried his trademark Spray'n'Pray IMI Galil. Good gun, if the range wasn't all that long. Nox had one too. He'd always thought Nox to be an AK kind of guy, but hey, whatever floated his boat.
Okay, everything looked good to go.
"Okay, Abib, we got everything," Caboose said to the Arabian man who was leading a small caravan of camels. Brother to Habib from the Dust2 region, "Black Market" Abib provided them with the shiny firearms.
"Thank you, come again," Abib said, smiled, and led his camels away.
Caboose shook his head and looked down at his wrist monitor. Okay.
Only a few more seconds before the start of the round...
Billy polished off his Deagle.
"Billy, that's the fifth fucking time you've wiped that damned pistol with that rag. Quit it," Bob Long groaned.
"Make me, paintball boy," Billy replied with a grin. He continued to polish his little baby.
Bob Long rolled his eyes. Screw it. Billy was wacked.
Bob looked over this team.
Smoke, Asterisk, Pootie, Anarath, and Bizz all had their trusty M4a1 Colts. Pootie, of course, was trying to bum "hacks" off of Bizzly and Smoke. Smoke and Bizz told him-very politely, of course-to do something very dangerous involving his rifle and his rectum.
Pheermee, the Phamas-Phiring Phurball of a Pherbee, had his trademark weapon. Pherbee was deadly with the weapon, especially when it was set to burst fire. Sure was a headshot machine in skilled hands. Lostboii also toted the French gun.
Haha, French gun.
Ace and Jmar had Steyr AUGs. Pretty good guns, if you ignored their odd shape and tendency to rise. The scope was excellent, but whenever he used it, he had a tendency to crouch and squeeze off shots, and that left him open to someone who would be dancing all over the place.
He carried an M3 shotgun. He'd once told Mao that he was only good with a pump shotty, and not even then, but he'd just said that to make Mao feel better because, after all, he was getting knifed this map. And since Mao had feelings of inadequacy. Inadequacy being, uh, in gaming and of the stereotypical Asian variety. Poor guy. He almost felt sorry for Mao.
Billy was... well he didn't look like he was going to get a shield. He had a Desert Eagle, of course, since Billy wouldn't shut about his Oh-my-gawd-deagle-hax. But Billy had better decide soon, though, map was almost starting.
Well... yep. Billy didn't look like he was going to dare touch a shield. After all, shields became knife targets to people who knew how to handle them. Which, he had to grudgingly admit, included Mao.
Last... eh. Savage was carrying a nub-stick, a Benelli M4 automatic shotgun. He never really liked the fucker, but oh well, he was on his team, which meant he had to cover his ass. God, why the did the bastards come to his team?
So gay. So gay, in fact, that Lance Bass was straight again in comparison. Eh-heh.
Whatever. If Savage was as fucking annoying as he remembered him to be, Mao, Caboose, Church, Nox, Street, and Pherbee would fuck him over so hard and so fast they'd amaze even themselves.
Hadn't Caboose told them about something called "StayOut"?
Ah, whatever, map was about to start.