The Rifle of Baskerville

((Takes place on Monday week 5))

Swinging Conender around, Cheshire practices blunt striking in one of the many practice rooms. He had rented the place for a few hours so he can train his body more for the use of Conender. Ever since that incident at the Valestar cafe afew weeks back, Cheshire felt that Conender had not been at its best performance. He had called over a certain someone to help out with testing out its capabilities. He should arrive at anytime.

Stopping his practice for the moment, Cheshire walks over to the break table where a cooler and some weight gear rested. He pour himself an energy drink and inhaled the green liquid. Cheshire glances at the case he had leaning against the wall to his right. The engraving "Baskerville" was etched onto it.

"All these years and I finally get it working," Cheshire mumbles. "If only I had managed to complete it back during Combat School... Ah well. Conender and Helsingr are good enough for now. No point in replacing a working weapon you've had plenty of practice with... Maybe I'll pass it on to my kid if I ever manage to get one."

Cheshire contemplates his romantic life. His eyes had a grave depressed look all of a sudden and his ears droop downward. Cheshire slumped against the wall, his head bowed with the forehead pressing against it.

"I am forever alone...."

Zwei kicked open the door to the room holding his weapon in its sheathe in one hand and a small backpack full of blueprints for other masks. It was obvious he has been busy the past few days making these blue prints as they were surprisingly detailed. "Wassup!?" he asked running into the room full of energy and running a lap around it before standing with Cheshire. "So why was I called?" he asked now slightly calmed.

"Remind me again why I keep on talking to you...." Cheshire mumbles, showing the usual cold exterior to the always energetic Zwei. Parting his forehead away from the wall Cheshire picks up Conender in one hand and a cloth bag in the other. Cheshire hands the bag to Zwei. "I need to help me testing my weapon's capabilities. First I'd like you to help test the shielding function. Opening the bag, Zwei will find it stuffed with grenades.

David walked into one of the training rooms. He saw two gentlemen inside. I hope I don't bother them. He walks over to a chair, and pulls out a small box looking component. Time to see how this slasher mod does. He inserted the small box into a space in his right arm. As soon as he shut the compartment, his hand began to spin. It did so for a few seconds before stopping. Let's see if this works. He stood up and moved his right hand from his left shoulder to his side. As he did so long sharp blades came out the tips of his fingers. This is something cooked up in hell.

Zwei looked into the wide-eyed for a moment stunned by the wonderful power held within the bag. He grabbed a Grenade in his hand and carelessly tossed the bag to the side. He held the grenade like someone about to pitch in baseball and began pumping himself up. "Are you ready?" he asked before starting throwing.

Cheshire raised Conender up and mumbles, "Protect me cone," waiting for his aura to be drained by the device to form the semi dome shield. The weapon clicked several times but did nothing else and no shield appeared. As the grenade flew through the air, the explosive landed inside the wide barrel of Conender with a clank.

"Oh that can't be good..."

The grenade exploded, Cheshire was thrown back and his back hit the wall. He grunted and groaned. His weapon laid in pieces all over the room.

Zwei stood in place for a moment dumbstruck. "Well...umm....damnit" He moved over to help Cheshire while inspecting him for any major wounds. He looked over the broken pieces of Cheshire’s weapon with a saddened look on his face considering he knew how attached people get to weapons.

David herd the blast. He ran over to see if everyone was okay. "Everyone alright over here." David asked while his claws were still out.

"Ugh," Cheshire groans. He picks himself up, partially using the wall as support. When he manages to stand straight up again he answers David's query. "I'm fine, just a little bruised. Pretty sure I just lost half of my nine lives though..."

Cracking his neck, Cheshire dusts himself off as he glances around the room and the broken pieces of Conender.

"...."

Cheshire picks up a piece lying near his foot. He knew immediately it was a piece from the handle. He knew his weapon that well, even if it was in pieces he could piece them all together like a puzzle. Even so, his weapon was beyond repair. Cheshire showed no emotion in his expression. Instead he pockets the broken piece and takes in a deep breath.

"Rest in piece my partner...." Cheshire mumbles, his eyes closed. "...."

The makeshift funeral mourning lasted for about five seconds before Cheshire opened his eyes again and stretched his joints like a tired cat. His image flickered and he disappeared again. He reappears again soon after but holding a broom and dustpan. He starts to sweep up the mess despite his condition.

"Can't leave a mess just lying around now," Cheshire mumbles as he cleans up.