The crowd stood on the south lawn of the White House, eagerly awaiting the moment when the president would step out onto the balcony and speak to them. The were nervous, to be sure; it had been a struggle to live through the last few months.
Domestic terrorists had caused devastation, international agents of ill will had made their presence known, and the military had been unable to do anything to curtail the storm that was sweeping through the nation. But that was all about to change.
Rumors had been swirling for the last week, and had been all but confirmed when the president's spokesman had made his announcement: Change is coming;the president has found a way out of the madness. There were doubters of course; what could the president truly do that he hadn't tried before? Organize a team of counter-terrorism operatives to win a descisive victory against the forces of corruption?
No one knew. But there was one certainy: the president had faith in whatever his plan was. If he didn't, why would he expose himself to an assassin's bullet?
The opening strains of 'Hail to the Cheif' abruptly put an end to speculation;answers would be coming soon enough. In one movement, the crowd fixed its attention on the podium errected on the balcony, at the tall slender figure stepping up to it. There was a breif moment of patrioc pride as the president smiled, leaned forward to speak. But the moment was quickly interrupted by the squeel of feadback from the microphones.
The president motioned to an aid and gestured at the malfunctioning equipment. The aid hurried forward and tried to adjust the feedback away. It got louder.
A shiver passed through the crowd. The noise had developed into a dull roar; definitely not feedback. The crowd began to break, to scatter in myriad directions as one after another of the gathered onlookers caught sight of the blue figure hurtling towards the president on a column of flame, sunlight glinting off the barrel of a rifle clutched in its arms.
The president turned and ran back into the safety of his mansion--but it was too late. There was a briliant flash, and then--

The story abruptly ended. Yeah, sorry for that; I'm an aspiring novelist (see my Hrothmeir customs) and decided to mix some writing in with this figure. This figure is the Strato-Viper. Yes, that's technically an official Joe (well, Cobra) and no, my character has nothing to do with it. Oh, well.
This started as just something I was messing around with. I put the RoC Hawk jetpack on a TRU 5-pack firefly, thought it looked neat, and then added some other parts. Then, I decided to paint. Originally, I was just going to detail it; some washes, maybe drybrushing, and a few little details here and there. Then, it got kinda out of hand, and I ended up painting pretty much the whole thing. Have to say, though, I like how it turned out.

Parts:
25th TRU 5-pack Firefly- Everything but head
RoC Neo-Viper- Head
RoC TRU 5-pack Ripcord- Jacket
RoC Hawk- Jet Pack
25th Resolute Trooper- Rifle

Hope you all enjoy!