Kidaroc 2.0

[Brnin8r]

An empty wind blew over the defended city. Quite the contrary to what most people might think upon sight, the city was ground zero for a conflict that had been raging on for nearly a week. It had become routine, right about 9 or 10 in the morning it would start up again and the girls would begin their march North. The boys' buildings and bunkers were more heavily defended, but nothing could deny the sheer numbers that continued to grow as the girls took more boys with every shot and shipped in more converted victims from other battlefields across the former nation with overland transports or helicopters...

Alisha Strade stood at the very top of the tallest skyscraper controlled by the girls, binoculars at her eyes and a smirk on her face. They'd gained so much ground yesterday it made up for the couple days before that. "They won't know what hit them..." she said as she looked back to a couple fold-out tables that detailed their secret tactics...large red x's here and there scattered amongst the suspected HQs of the boys...

Calon Weaver hadn't slept, but sat up head in his hands the whole silent night. He hated what the girls did, pound them with waves of battalions over and over all day long until right about 8 when they draw back to their holds and, it was obvious from the noise, conducted slumber parties. It was either psychology or just fun the way they pumped their Brittnie Spears and Spice Girls at irresponsible volumes... He'd tried some attacks at night, but no unit had ever returned. He looked at his watch once again, lamenting that it was about the right time for another volley of artillery fire from the girls. "Gas masks." he ordered his ward who'd been up, who then set to relay the order to the four remaining bunkers. If they couldn't gain ground today, they would once again set up a blockade to ensure the retreat of most of the boys...

~~**~~
Upon the battlefield...

-A large, rumbling, bumbling tank of a machine stood silent, hidden from sight at the edge of the battlefield. It had been another easy night for Isaac Grumm and it was clear the girls weren't intending to throw their forces at the boys in the dark. Some of the boys had come with threats that if the mechanically inclined mercernary didn't do what they said, they'd kill him. It was all fluff, though, and they never followed through, letting the empty threat hang. As the sun had been up for a while, the alarm that signified whenabouts the girls were about to begin their march started to ring in the boy's ears...

-Sean Harmand's support squad had worked through the night without rest and had come up with nothing. The twelve sedated boys had their limbs strapped together...their boyhood wouldn't survive the day. The lead medic, Harvey Sansburg, walked up to the working boy, "Let 'em sleep...their done. We need to get closer to the frontlines again..." he spoke, his voice dead of hope. Next to Sean's bed was a briefcase full of the last of the small Femme X deterrent's the boys had whipped up in the last couple months...it would slow it but not stop it.

-The kitchen was bustling, attempting to feed the massive number of boys that were going to be doing nothing but fighting for their lives all day. In rummaged Alex Tate for food and getting meals started. The music that rang out all night had kept most of the boys up, but Alex would find that he slept like a baby, being able to give most of the groggy boys a good, strong meal of eggs and bacon. Their gratitude, however, was overlayed by their distaste for the cook...Alex was always the butt of many a girl joke. "Thanks girly, hope you don't convert on your own in that kitchen." one boy joked as he took the tray, slapped a helmet on, and went to eat what might be his death breakfast as it was now called.

-Richard Stanton had found his way to the battlefield easily enough, a plea for help and promise for money and supplies had attracted him in the first place...At the tip of the battle, there wasn't much action going on but already the telling fire of artillery and gunshots promised The Crow another day of work. It didn't matter whether or not who won, he'd be on his way out before there was any chance to be caught. Its what he did, survive. And that was the legend everyone knew him by...a symbol of defeat and death...

-Micheal Hara knew this day would eventually come...they'd taken cover in a discrete parking garage below a skyscraper and carved them out a particularly liveable environment. The population consisted of 22 boys and a couple captured girls. One of Hara's peers had suggested rehabilitating them to avoid the inevitable extinction of humanity. They weren't having any of it.

In any case, the sound of the roaring battle echoed in the far distance once again. There was hope that the battle would happen without their discovery, but the girl's slow progress over the last week had promised a different reality. They were going to eventually find the conclave of survivors and they likely would end them just like they ended every other boy...

-A light hand gently touched Damian Bosley's shoulder as the battle was starting, Brian Jones had been up for some time preparing the rest of the squads for combat, but it was finally Damian's turn to make the boys proud. Brian was a lithe specimen of a boy, very nearly feminine in his own right without any sort of help with makeup, "Are you ready?" he asked, no words needed to tell Damian what he was ready for, but the suitcase in front of him revealed enough. Filled with the trips, trappings, and equipment of a girl, one captured with the approximate description that Damian could dress up as, the suitcase had everything the boy needed to sabotage the girl's operations...problem is there was a 38% survival rate of the B.I.O spys. A fact Damian had not forgotten.

The order for gasmasks came around as the wind blew a light fog of pink mist throughout the empty and filling streets...

[Blindsense]

-Richard Stanton had found his way to the battlefield easily enough, a plea for help and promise for money and supplies had attracted him in the first place...At the tip of the battle, there wasn't much action going on but already the telling fire of artillery and gunshots promised The Crow another day of work. It didn't matter whether or not who won, he'd be on his way out before there was any chance to be caught. Its what he did, survive. And that was the legend everyone knew him by...a symbol of defeat and death...

The Crow flashed a wicked, toothy smile as he surveyed the scene in front of him. His eyes scanned the ground from the boy's perch atop one of the boys' many hidden bunkers. The boys were beginning to move about below him now, he mused to himself as his gaze took in the rising sun. Richard's normally icy-calm mind was positively aflame with an inexplicable sense of anxiety on that particular evening. Ordinarily, the sun would be bringing with it a normal day of work for the legendary thief - steal some supplies and perhaps a black-market schematic or two and retreat to his dwelling before the fighting grew intense. Today, however, he felt a sense of excitement in the air. Today, he felt, would be different.

Richard pulled his knife from its scabbard at his hip, running a finger over the keen edge of the blade - coating it in a soft sheen of his own blood. Some called him crazy, Richard mused. They accused him of caring only for himself, of being controlled by his own psychoses. Perhaps they were right... Not that it mattered.

In this world, sometimes one had to be crazy to survive.

They called him crazy. The thought made Richard chuckle. He was crazy? How could he be crazy when these fools were simply throwing themselves against an unstoppable force? He had seen the handiwork of those madwomen in the girls' camp... There was no stopping a force that added to its ranks with every opposing casualty. They called him crazy for being a loner... But Richard knew that it was better to be the shark of the ocean than the captain of a sinking ship.

With a silent, fluid motion, the boy leapt from his perch, landing gracefully behind the bunker before strolling out into the open. His reputation preceded him, he knew - many in the camp would likely have heard of him. Such things worked to Richard's advantage. His fable fashioned him as a man of many faces; some claimed he was a massive, musclebound giant with a bald head and a wild look to his eyes. Others claimed he was tall and thin, with a predatory, hawklike nose. In truth, not a soul stood alive today that could identify the thief. That fact, Richard knew, would work to his advantage today. He approached the nearest grunt he saw, putting on a face of worry and anxiety. "H-hey..." he greets, wringing his hands nervously. "D-do you know where the mess hall is? I j-just got transferred to this division..."

[Zoey]

Damian sighed and nodded to Brian. "I'm not to excited about this, but someones got to do it..." he said groaning a bit in disgust as he opened the suit case and pulled up the padded frilly white bra he was supposed to wear. Damian had been waiting for the tools to arrive and he'd knew he had to change into the girls uniform so he was only wearing boxers in the waiting room when the suitcase came. Having a big sister, Damian in the least knew how to work a bra and soon found out it was a bit big as he cupped the bra cups. "Woah... The girl they captured had big boobs..." he said blushing as his task was basically to impersonate the girl they captured. Before going over to the panties which he kindly asked Brian to turn around as he changed into a matching pair of frilly white panties. Damian groaning as he felt the frills coming up his thighs which bran back embarrassing memories.

Still clothes like these were needed to make the ruse work since the girls are very watchful. As everyone knew B.I.O spies also had a nickname... the suicidal crossdressers. Which wasn't one to attract a lot of glamour from the boys ranks. "So... how is the plan going to work?" asked Damian as he went to put on the girl scout uniform button up blouse with frilly and a bit puffed shoulder sleeves before the pink vest with all the girls achievements. Damian couldn't help but wonder if he was really ready to impersonate her, he wasn't exactly given a lot to work with, but still duty called...

[Knight Errant]

Isaac awakes with a yawn, as a buzzer on the dashboard rings. He reaches down, propping up the back of the reclining chair he had been sleeping in and adjusts his goggles. He had slept soundly, the soft thrum of classical music reverberating inside the metal interior of his creation. With all the nonsense the girls played during the night, he was glad he sound proofed and sealed his lovely machine.

He hops out of the cockpit, worming his way through the interior... large in volume, but crammed with cables, pipes, and machinery. He makes a final check... topping off all fluid levels and polishing up the inner workings. He knew it would do its job... but a good performance meant better rewards coming his way. After tightening up the last few wires, he hops back to the cockpit and starts the ignition sequence and munitions arming and loading proceedure. Its a flurry of toggles, switches, and keyboard commands... but he knows them all by heart.

The tank roars to life... humming as the engine warms up. As it does, Isaac sips some tea from a thermos. Waiting as a microwave oven to the left of the dashboard finishes heating up a cup of instant ramen. After a quick impromptu breakfast, he lowers the view finder... looking over as the streets begin filling with a faint pink fog.

"Hmph... crude but effective." Mutters Isaac, as he switches on the air filtering systems built into the air tight tank. "Right... time to get going." He slides a CD into the stereo plugged into the dash... The tank treads begin rolling as Isaac steps on the gas. Music beginning to play in the cockpit and over the loud speakers, ringing through the streets as Isaac makes his way to the battefield.

[Harri-chan]

Alex's nose wrinkled as the boy snatched the tray from him and mocked him in return. He still blushed, despite being more than used to it, his brown eyes lowering as he began to dish up the next plateful of breakfast. His long brown curls were tied back in the simplest of ponytails, while he wore a plain white t-shirt and a pair of camo-print pants, both of which were a little big on him, hanging loosely around his skinny body. Carefully, he scooped a spoonful of beans onto the plate, taking great care to avoid splashing himself. Despite the logic behind it, the boys refused to have aprons around for the kitchen staff, as the were considered such strong feminine symbols by the stereotyping teenagers, although with a mixture of excitement and embarrassment, Alex wondered if they'd make an exception for him.

"Good luck... ", he muttered, holding the tray of food out to the next soldier in line, hesitating a moment before lifting his head enough to meet the gaze of the other boy. Despite the fact almost every single one of them was a jerk towards him, he still admired that they were going out there each day, risking what was most precious to them, but on the other hand, he was also a little jealous that any of these macho meat-heads could end up part of the following night's slumber parties. It was ironic that the only boy on base who wanted to be captured by the girls was always kept safely inside the walls.

The only others that ever worked in the kitchen were being punished, and today there was nobody to help. Alex had set the tables, cooked the food, served it up, and now there was a break in the line, he stepped out from behind the counter and headed nervously amongst the boys to gather up plates that had been cleared and left behind. His dark brown eyes darted back and forth, never making eye-contact for more than a split-second. He was pretty sure he'd developed a crush on a couple of them, but hadn't figured out yet if discovery of this news would result in a life-threatening beating, or amusement of the part of the boys. He'd already heard comments from several of them, about their hormone-fueled desires, and if there was one person on base that could take the place of the girl in those situations, it was Alex.

[Brnin8r]

-The only thing that had greeted Julie Bellinase was a singular note on her portable dresser. Michelle was never seen by her girls, only in rumor and whispers did she order her Sneaks. The base was already up and bustling, girls of every age changing out of their pink and purple pajamas into their standard Girl Scout uniforms. This was the Cookie Division, separated not by cause, but by colors. There were several other divisions across the nation and their numbers had been getting larger with every conflict. They suited up in their tan button-up shirts, forest green miniskirts, and bright pink vests each with various merit badges representing their achievements on duty. The paper note was only a single sentence: Infiltrate and sabotage the Western battery.

-The guard, groggy as he was, didn't even make a note of how Richard wasn't in uniform yet even though the entire base was marching back to the front lines. "On your way North, its the Ramada Hotel building, first floor, kitchen entrance." he ordered as he went back to his half-assed vigil. Further into the boys base, very few soldiers made an effort to notice the newcomer, though some looked and became instantly suspicious, moving on their way just a little faster. Inside the Ramada, the foyer was covered in sleeping bags, stepping over them would have been a chore were they all full...now though they were empty, everything of each occupant's tightly secured in their travel bags now for a quick getaway. The mess hall was full of the few boys meandering with their meals to avoid the 'frontest' of the frontlines. The only other person of notice was the cook, a girlish styled boy, gathering all the derelict plates.

-Despite the revulsion Damian might have towards all things girl, there was no denying the comfortable, if not tight, nature of the panties. Brian methodically placed a pair of breast forms that were sized for the specific bra along with makeup to hide the seams between the silicone and Damian's chest. "Well, it'll be a little difficult getting you to where you need to be, but if we pull it off safe enough, we'll drive you around to the drop off zone, a point just half a mile from the girl's East flank. There, you'll have to hoof it to the girls. Hopefully they're going to be busy fighting us and that's when you'll just...melt into their forces. From there, you can make your way through anything but your primary target is the Eastern battery. Its been pounding us hard enough to scramble our communications and screw up our tactics...it needs to be destroyed if we're to make it out...alive."

-The streets were widely empty of everything but stranded cars, most boys if they weren't posted defensively along the corners of buildings, the glass broken out of them, they were keeping close to the blocks, gasmasks on tight. Every small unit Isaace passed, however, made an effort to cheer on their bounty hunter. They knew that if everything went well, there might be more of these tanks on their side...and if the driver survived, maybe even more inventions down the road! It wasn't too long before the first signs of conflict were happening and from where Isaac stood, he had a perfect shot at one of the first charging girls, marching like the British across the roads without a care in the world, knowing it was only a matter of time before they'd won.

-Most boys simply ignored Alex as he hovered about taking the plates and, when the stacks were too high, taking them back to the sink. One boy, on the other hand, couldnt' take his eyes off her. A Cadet whose nametag only said Carlin was practically oogling the boy. It didn't matter, though, he was due to the front and with a clatter of plates, he'd left. Though Alex would find that there was a note under the plate reading "Hope to see you after." It seemed like it was all over before another, underdressed looking boy, entered the mess hall...

[Zilla]

Julie read the note with a bit of disdain. When things were good, she wouldn't have to put herself on the line for anything and she could enjoy the somewhat comfortable living she had gotten for herself. But she had to make a dishonest day's living somehow. She sighed and prepared for her mission.

She was very used to traveling light. She had her emergency supplies and her getaway materials, in case things turned sour. She hoped she didn't need to use any of them, but life had taught her a few important lessons; one of which was to prepare for the worst.

At least the boys didn't have any kind of Mascul X or anything like the girls. She shuddered as she dressed for the day when her mind turned to that bleak possibility. She was on the winning side, and she was eternally grateful for that. She was also eternally grateful that she wasn't on the actual visible frontlines. She could remain undetected while she did her work, and if she was careful, she would never be in harm's way.

She made sure to eat a good meal before setting out toward the Western battery. Unlike her comrades who marched in the streets, she opted to slink through empty buildings and dimly lit alleys towards her target. She would stick to shadows and out of sight as she heard boys passing by, with their cracking voices and bawdy language... Such base creatures. She had no idea if this war had twisted her views on males or not, but she just knew she couldn't stand them. Especially with the conversations she'd overheard between them, when they thought nobody was around. The depraved and raunchy exchanges she heard insulted what dignity she had.

With hardly more than a pleasant smile to her "friends," she set out on her mission.

[Blindsense]

The guard, groggy as he was, didn't even make a note of how Richard wasn't in uniform yet even though the entire base was marching back to the front lines. "On your way North, its the Ramada Hotel building, first floor, kitchen entrance." he ordered as he went back to his half-assed vigil. Further into the boys base, very few soldiers made an effort to notice the newcomer, though some looked and became instantly suspicious, moving on their way just a little faster. Inside the Ramada, the foyer was covered in sleeping bags, stepping over them would have been a chore were they all full...now though they were empty, everything of each occupant's tightly secured in their travel bags now for a quick getaway. The mess hall was full of the few boys meandering with their meals to avoid the 'frontest' of the frontlines. The only other person of notice was the cook, a girlish styled boy, gathering all the derelict plates.

Richard sidles up to the young, effeminate chef boy, arching an eyebrow with interest. No wonder this one was kept from the front, he thought - in the heat of the fray, he could be mistaken for the enemy! "Uhm... Excuse me?" His voice quavered a bit with perfectly-rehearsed uncertainty. "I'm... I'm looking for the commanding officer in charge of this platoon... Or whatever," he stammers, his eyes shifting expertly between his feet and the boy in front of him. "I thought I could catch him in the m-mess hall, but clearly I'm just getting in the way... I'm sorry!" He straightens up, still looking positively terrified of the small boy. "I'm... Steven. S-Steven Williams. I just got transfered here, and I need to meet with whoever my new boss is... D-do you know where I could find him?"

[Harri-chan]

Alex was already looking forward to heading off to a new task where he could be alone, away from these boys, when he caught one of them looking at him. For a moment, he ended up just staring back at the boy with the nametag that read Carlin, before wincing at the clatter of plates. "They're not indestructible, you know", he muttered, moving over to the counter once the boy had gone, and picked up the plate, his eyes widening when he saw the note. Quickly snatching it up, he squinted at the words, thinking he must have made a mistake... but after reading it four times, slipped the paper into his pocket. His cheeks went a bright red, as he wondered what the boy could want to see him about.

He was still looking distant, clutching the plate, when Richard arrived. "Huh? Oh, sorry... ", he said, giving his head a little shake. His thin eyebrows arched above his eyes, as he'd not once come across a boy that seemed nervous around him like this one apparently did. "Commanding officer? I... I don't really deal with the higher ups... ", he blushed, one hand reaching up and over his head to rub at the back of his head. "I'm Alex... do you want some breakfast while I try and find someone that can point you in the right direction?", he offered.

[Zoey]

"I see..." replied Damian remind himself about the details of his job. "I will do my best to protect my brothers, dont worry". Damian couldn't help, but blush as felt the fabric of the panties which were may more soft that anything the boys wore. More embarrassing yet was Brian doing the make up in his breasts forms which slowly made them look scary realistic. "Woah.... You're good Brian" he said giving them a weird look before putting on the girls white shirt which kept on the trend of form fitting yet soft material clothings. Buttoning up the shirt Damian couldn't help, but feel as the shirt defenately got a bit a tighter as he got to the upper buttons. "Jeez, I can't believe girls, but up with all this crap" he said as she adjusted the silk sleeves and couldn't help but shake his back a bit as the bra straps slowly settled in. There was still so much left in the suit case like facial make up, jewelry, the rest of the clothing and he even had to wear a damn wig. "We just put on a pair of pants and a gun and go fight. This is like a ritual" he complains.

[Blindsense]

Richard grinned mentally - this was going rather well. He already had someone he could talk to on the inside - and he was being offered free food to boot! "Th-that would be great," he responded, his stutter still present. "Thanks so much... Alex." He extended a hand in greeting, willing his scarred fingers to tremble with anxiety. "It's nice to meet someone friendly... I mean, everyone else is always so intimidating ever since... Well, you know."

[Harri-chan]

Alex nodded, carefully serving up bacon, sausage, egg and beans onto the plate, and pushed it over the counter towards Richard, before smiling at the extended hand. "Yeah, I know... ", he said as he reached across to gently take the hand and shake it. "Just take a seat and enjoy". The long brown ponytail swished about across his back as he once more stepped out from the kitchen area, and headed across to the most senior ranking boy he could find. "Hey... there's a guy just come in, says he's supposed to find the commanding officer... any idea where he is?", he asked, looking rather embarrassed that he didn't already know what should have been a pretty important piece of information.

[Knight Errant]

Isaac deftly piloted his machine around the abandoned cars and boys outposts... no reason to harm either potential spare parts or allies. Though as he passes one building where the boys cheer him on, he turns the tank slightly... rolling it over a abandoned car and crushing it flat. Show... that was the thing. He only hoped those boys would make it to brag about his tank later.

Finally he rolls to a stop as he acquires target. His smirk illuminated by the lights of the dashboard instruments. "Numerical superiority will falter in the face of technological superiority... let me demonstrate..." He mutters to himself, as the girls would begin hearing the strains of classical music announcing his presence. It was almost his own brand of psychological warfare... for wherever he went... it was always with a new war machine.

And all of his inventions were perfect...

*Thump!* *Thump!* *Thump!*

His opening salvo is with three shells, launched from the main cannon. The turret turns as it fires, landing the rounds in a calculated spread among the advancing girls. However, just before impact the rounds explode. Sending dozens of large, thick rubber balls flying into the enemy ranks with the velocity of a shotgun. The rounds, about the size of a large bouncy ball, have enough power to knock the girls off their feet... knock them completely out if on contact with the head, and seriously bruise, break bones, or even kill if landed in a unlucky unarmored spot.

[Brnin8r]

-Julie was offered a short ride to the furthest safe point, the driver under explicit orders to keep conversations to a minimum. The battle had already begun with several strands of gunfire weaving together along with the larger artillery *bangs* and tank *booms*, they were so far from the combat for most of the trip though, it didn't matter. "Good luck." was all the driver said as the jeep pulled away and puttered off around and towards the front lines in a roundabout way so it didn't look like they'd just dropped someone off. From then on, it was silence...until the West battery, which was already doing a good deal of hammering upon the girl's lines. Concussive shots designed to block roadways and dishevel units without remorse.

-The effeminate cook walked off to help find Richard's quarry, though in the meantime there was food to be had. Despite the need for boys on the frontline, there wasn't a soul around to pull rank on the uniformless boy.

-Alex wouldn't find a ranking officer in the mess hall, but just outside of it, he caught sight of Brigadier General Anderson on his way out. At the question he turned, though at the sight of Alex his face turned to a twisted sneer. "Sure, bright eyes, General Weaver's on the fourth floor leading tactics. Now you get done cooking and hide your ass from the fighting like you usually do." and with that, the insulting officer continued his way, not even giving Alex the time of day...

-Brian smirked, "All in a day's work." his voice had started normal before he was assigned this job, but over surviving his missions it had become naturally breathy and higher-pitched...a common side-effect of the job. "You get real used to it." he said as he looked over Damian's brand new cleavage as if it were a painter's canvas, "And yeah, there's very little chance you'd catch me wearing this if it weren't for it good cause. Girl's just enjoy a sense of complication in their day methinks." It was odd hearing a callous speech pattern being used in such a feminine voice to Damian as Brian helped straighten the boy's wig. "That should do it." he said, helping the boy pack the rest of his supplies, "Now get out there, boy, and show 'em what a real girl's made of." he joked, patting the crossdressed soldier on the shoulder before walking off.

-The girls only recognized the tank's presence just as Isaac fired, only a few smart ones ducking out of the way as the large, concussion rounds struck in a horizontal volley across the wide, marching unit. The burst bullets caused nearly all of the girls to fall to the ground, the ones who'd ducked and the fortunately missed quickly scattered. The mechanic within his steel beast could count only nine or ten of them on their feet before they got behind the cars and into the alleys, order destroyed. Alongside the requiem, the boys moved forward with a proud gait, though not forsaking the caution they'd been trained with, slowly approaching the fallen girls to confirm their unconciousness. Once the conflict in this section was dying down, most of the boys would take what girls they could back to the base and hold as ransom. Isaac had noticed this odd trend in his travels, noticing only a sparse success rate since the girls usually won their battles.

[Knight Errant]

"Ehehehehee..." Chuckles Isaac, seeing the women scatter. "Not so confident and proud now, are you... little girls. But its not enough... I've broken your ranks. Now to break your spirits..."

Isaac's hands blur over the controls. The cannon clacks as low velocity rounds are loaded into the muzzle. After doing a few calculations in his head, he opens fire with his second salvo.

*Thump!* *Thump* *Thump!*

He drops the slow flying, spinning rounds behind the girls cover, and bounces them off the walls and into the alleys they ducked into, where the rounds explode with grenade like force, sending out more of the rubber balls. Those who had chosen the alleys were particularly unlucky... as they soon fill with bouncing rubber balls flying every direction at near gunshot velocity.

Inside his cockpit, Isaac grins. "At this rate... they will be throwing money and supplies at me hand over fist to get ahold of this beauty." He pats the dash board affectionately.