Jack hasn't even stopped dodging before he throws a bolt of lightning at the splicer. For a couple of seconds the splicer is prone, shaking and making a garbled noise, and Jack fires his gun. But he's a little too keen to kill the guy before he teleports again. He sacrifices aim for speed, and the distant splicer vanishes in a cloud of blue.
Ha ha ha god damnit.
Finger twitching on his gun, Jack keeps his back to the wall and stares around for the telltale clump of blue frost.
Or, you know, the splicer could scream "PUT ME OUT OF BUSINESS, WOULD YOU?!" and completely give himself away.
Jack throws fire this time, going for damage in case he misses again. At the same time, the splicer throws ice.
The fireball fizzles and dies out, but the ice keeps coming.
Fuck, what the fuck was that?
Okay wait he can figure it out later because right now he haS TO DODGE REALLY QUICKLY. He spins to the left, and more ice follows him. He dodges again, getting tired of this shit pretty quick, and fires off another shot more or less blind.
He keeps snapping his fingers as he goes, trying to reignite the pilot light, but nope. Apparently he's out of EVE. Motherfucker, how much does that upgraded plasmid have to cost per use?
More ice hits the wall beside his head and shatters into obscuring mist. He ducks hurriedly and fires another shot. He's rewarded with a pained yell, more by luck than judgement.
This is actually really embarrassing. Between the zero visibility, the lack of EVE and the unrelenting Winter Blasts, he has actually been cornered by a splicer. God he hopes Sinclair isn't watching this.
And to make things even more fun, he has two shots left till he has to reload.
G r e a t.
Jack holds his breath and squints through the free-floating ice. Then he realises: the ice has stopped coming.
A hesitant step forward -- the floor is slippery now -- and he can see enough to confirm that yep, the splicer is gone.
Then there's a chilly rush and a voice grates right in his ear:
"I'm putting you in the ground, Fontaine!"
As a combination of things he did not fucking expect, this kind of takes the cake. Jack spins and shoots, and definitely does not yelp like a little girl, and then there are two thuds of bodies hitting the ground.
The splicer is dead, most of his face blown away at point blank range.
And Jack is breathing hard, flat on his arse on a floor of slowly melting ice.
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Ha ha ha god damnit.
Finger twitching on his gun, Jack keeps his back to the wall and stares around for the telltale clump of blue frost.
Or, you know, the splicer could scream "PUT ME OUT OF BUSINESS, WOULD YOU?!" and completely give himself away.
Jack throws fire this time, going for damage in case he misses again. At the same time, the splicer throws ice.
The fireball fizzles and dies out, but the ice keeps coming.
Fuck, what the fuck was that?
Okay wait he can figure it out later because right now he haS TO DODGE REALLY QUICKLY. He spins to the left, and more ice follows him. He dodges again, getting tired of this shit pretty quick, and fires off another shot more or less blind.
He keeps snapping his fingers as he goes, trying to reignite the pilot light, but nope. Apparently he's out of EVE. Motherfucker, how much does that upgraded plasmid have to cost per use?
More ice hits the wall beside his head and shatters into obscuring mist. He ducks hurriedly and fires another shot. He's rewarded with a pained yell, more by luck than judgement.
This is actually really embarrassing. Between the zero visibility, the lack of EVE and the unrelenting Winter Blasts, he has actually been cornered by a splicer. God he hopes Sinclair isn't watching this.
And to make things even more fun, he has two shots left till he has to reload.
G r e a t.
Jack holds his breath and squints through the free-floating ice. Then he realises: the ice has stopped coming.
A hesitant step forward -- the floor is slippery now -- and he can see enough to confirm that yep, the splicer is gone.
Then there's a chilly rush and a voice grates right in his ear:
"I'm putting you in the ground, Fontaine!"
As a combination of things he did not fucking expect, this kind of takes the cake. Jack spins and shoots, and definitely does not yelp like a little girl, and then there are two thuds of bodies hitting the ground.
The splicer is dead, most of his face blown away at point blank range.
And Jack is breathing hard, flat on his arse on a floor of slowly melting ice.