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ORPG Original and detailed RPs for the experienced and ambitious RPer.

 
 
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Old 12/24/2009   #16
Hisako
Default

“NuMber fIvE at kAppA prIO-”

The knife was smoothly pulled out from its sheath and thrown in a flat arc in one single hand gesture, cutting through the air with nothing more than a quiet whistle and a quiet thunk as it found its mark in a thug’s forehead. A strangled cry punctuated the computer’s announcement short and it skipped a beat.

“NuMber sIx at zEta prIOritY.”

She almost looked up as she unholstered her ten-millimeter, picking up the sound of footsteps spawning fifty meters away. They were picking up the pace a little faster than she liked, although she had already programmed it to do so.

She was just wondering if she’d used the right numbers.

“NuMber sEv NuMber Eight at zEta prIOritY."

Two shots to the chest, one to the head. It was a perfect kill, she noted to herself (and somewhat proudly) as she was aiming to figure it out at some point this week.

Number eight and number nine burst in through the side windows of the hotel room, and she made a mental note to herself as she emptied the rest of her handgun into the two mercenaries that they were being spawned in ridiculous places. She twisted the top half of her body around by reflex in time to avoid a desperate last shot from one of the gunmen on the ground, answering with a short dash towards his bleeding figure, and kicking him through the wall with the instep of her flats just to see him plummet ten stories below.

She let loose a bit of a giggle, and threw away the lump of bubble gum she had been chewing over the edge of the hole she had made in the wall –

“NuMber nIne at EpSIl NuMber Ten at EpSIloN prIOritY."

Two canisters rolled in from the main doorway of the room, spitting out dense, yellow smoke several meters away that she instantly recognized to be lethal. She took a deep breath and with her bare shoulder, ran through the wall, grabbing one of the commandos who took the full force of the drywall and gave her a solid punch to the face, followed up by breaking her grip on his collar and elbowing her to the solar plexus, which she shrugged off as a minor nuisance.

After a moment of grunting, she sidestepped a stab with a knife that the commando had hidden in his sleeve, and tackling him from under the shoulder, she bodily lifted him off the floor and off the balcony into the atrium two floors below, landing positioned on top of his chest which killed him instantly and sounded like a watermelon being smashed into the ground. The other followed, jumping down with relative ease and diving towards an upturned table, sending a spray of bullets from his rifle.

In that moment, she shifted the weight of her feet, and the floor crumbled under the force of the blade of her foot as she took off in a short sprint.

The table the commando was hiding behind splintered into pieces as her forearm reached out and extended itself from its socket, with another foot of reach. She grabbed him by the back of his face, and threw him face-first into the floor, not even giving a second glance at the pulverized mess she was making.

“NuMber eLEveN at dEltA prIOrity.”

What? “End simulation.” She straightened up, pulling a strap off her underclothes back onto her shoulder, and untied her labcoat from around her waist, noting that after a month it had gathered enough dirt and grime to scrape off with her fingernails. Sticking her tongue out from one side of her mouth, she did up the buttons of her sleeves and shrugged the labcoat back on as the world around her dematerialized into the real world.

“SImulAtion ExiT. dEnAnn inDUStriAls, cYbernEticS And GeNEticS rEseARch diVIsion, PROjecT ManaGEr, TuAthA II zEtA prIOrity, SeCURity and WEaPons diVIsion, QuARtermAster LieUtEnanT GEnerAl, VerOniCA NAblA WIlkInS. TEchnicAl rAting, nIne-Ty nIne POint nIne fIve PErcENt. nEW hIgh scOre. WoUld yoU lIke to -”

“Nah, point-oh-three isn’t going to change jack-shit. Maybe after I finish the Delta Priority level, then we’ll talk about high scores.” Veronica Wilkins reached back and uncoupled the cable needle from her spinal column, ignoring the sickly wave of nausea that washed over her senses as she sat up from the chair. “Gum.”

“YOur Gum, MAdam.” Several cubes of brightly wrapped, pink, yellow and blue bubble gum popped out from a hidden panel in the wall that slid out as she walked towards the exit. She squealed in delight as she picked out a blue piece wrapped in pictures of teddy bears, putting the rest in her pocket like an unscrupulous child thief as she unwrapped it and bit into it, sighing in happiness as tastes of blueberry flooded her mind.

She decided it would be her favorite flavour for the next few days. Last week the strawberry ones with butterflies were particularly appealing, but for some reason there seemed to be much less of those these days.

She would have to look into it.

She sat down in her office, spending a few minutes in her leather armchair which was just at the right height for her to put her feet up on the desk. The restrictions of her dress aside, she wriggled her toes and closed her eyes in contentment, only to be disturbed by the mechanical chime of her monotone computer.

“A VisiTor, MAdam. SeCURity and WEaPons diVIsion, QuARtermAster GEnerAl, EmAnuEL CArsON.”
Veronica sighed, pouting a bit and taking her feet off her desk. The boring Quartermaster General, probably with another lecture prepared on how the company wasn’t progressing fast enough.

Total nonsense, of course. Veronica’s career was far greater than Carson’s own, although with the sort of company history Denann Industrials had she was certain that he had no idea. If she wanted, she could kill all her superiors with the flick of a wrist and take the top seat, but only if she was really bored.

And the work entitlements she got in her rank was just too interesting for her right now.

The door slid open silently and Emanuel Carson quickly barged through it as if there was something blocking his way. “Wilkins! What in hell have you done these past few days?”

Veronica leant back in her chair and let fly a sweet, sly, cat-like smile at the fuming Quartermaster General, pale white cheeks dimpling just enough for any lesser beings to be lulled into a false sense of security.

“Nothing the enemy knows about yet.”
“The enemy? Shit, Lieutenant General, do you even know who they are?”

“I know enough to know that they can be killed. When the time is right, sir, I will -”

“The time is now, maggot! Your R&D minions have already filled me in on what we’ve been after all this time. What the hell were you thinking, hiding it from me? And stop giggling, this isn’t funny!”

Veronica stopped, but her bottom lip was twitching as Emanuel carried on, bringing down his fifty-year-old fire and brimstone on her.
“… and when you actually get around to hunting down those goddamn mistakes that you made, Wilkins, we’re going to turn this shitting company around three-sixty and put it back on top of the market!”

Veronica choked out a snort of giggling –
“SHUT UP, WILKINS -”
“Sorry sir. It’s just that three-sixty is, like -”

“That is not the point, Lieutenant General! I want a detailed report on the success of this priority directive by the end of this month, on my desk! Or would you rather us cut down on some of your… privileges?”

Oh no you did NOT. They both knew that Veronica’s bubblegum was the only leverage Emanuel really held on her actions, and in that instant the stainless-steel pen she was twirling in her fingers snapped in two and her eyes would have fired laser beams if she had so desired.

“… I will consider it.”
“Make sure you do.” The General threw a disgusted look at Veronica, turned around, and stomped out of her office, fast enough to run into the door before it opened. “And get your damned computer fixed!”

She stuck her tongue out at him as the door closed behind him. Carson was getting on her nerves, and it wasn’t only because of his empty threats. As lead of the Security and Weapons Division, he was a major owner of Denann, which put Veronica one step below ownership and therefore he was the only one who could potentially ruin her career. Plus, she knew Emanuel was the closest thing to a loose cannon besides her.

“A VisiTor, MAdam. cYbernEticS And GeNEticS rEseARch diVIsion, PROjecT lEaD, BEnjaMiN aSHForD.”

“A face to brighten my day!” She beamed, and took a stick of orange bubblegum out of her pocket. “My favorite Project Lead. Let him in.”

As soon as he walked through the door, Benjamin Ashford was struck in the forehead by a small orange square of bubblegum while Veronica was doubled up laughing. He stumbled back a little before regaining his composure.

“Uh, hey Nica. Ma’am. Director.”
“Oh stop with the friggin’ formalities already, Benjie!” She waved him over to sit down, and put her feet up on the desk again, wriggling her toes the same way she had done earlier before. “It’s one of those really boring days again, and you’re a good familiar face. So, what’s up? Finished the R&D for the day?”

“Yeah, we just cleared out shop. You want your bubblegum back?”
Veronica laughed as she declined. “S’not mine anymore. Eat it! It’s your favorite flavour, so I heard.”

“So it is.” Benjamin grinned the grin of a winner as he unwrapped it and put it in his mouth, leaning back and blowing a bubble in the extra minute of silence it granted. “Y’know, I was wondering why you put in that ‘favorite gum flavour’ category on the R&D employee profiles. Now we know.”

“Now you know, yep.” Veronica took her feet off the desk and spun her chair around so she could put them on the windowsill. “We’re on the point of no return, Benjie. Carson’s after my ass, Tuatha projects still causing shit here and there, and you know about Viola’s crazy project?”

“You mean the project crazier than ours?”

“Yeah. Turns out that some of them made a jailbreak. Some of them made it, some of them didn’t. Some of them disappeared off the face of the planet. Others, well… we have our hunches.”

Veronica stared off into the setting sunlight as Benjamin narrowed his eyes in inquisition, pulling at a loose thread off the cuff of his labcoat.

“Usually when we’re talking hunches you know something the rest of us don’t, Nica.”

Veronica smiled. “One of your smart days today, eh? I guess I can fill you in on a little secret of mine. Don’t tell anyone, ‘kay?”

“My lips are zipped.”
“Pinky promise.”
“Oh goddamnit.”

After a moment of childish glee on Veronica’s part, she licked her lips as she leaned towards him conspiratorially. “I talk to some of them.”
“You what?”

“Well, not to all of them. Most of them I just listen. The ones I talk to feel like they’re familiar, somehow. I’m a bit careful about calling it telepathy, but it comes pretty close. And one of them I talk to a lot.” She bit her bottom lip, looking around. “But somehow she can block me out sometimes, Like, make herself invisible. I usually do this sort of thing during sleepytime, so most of the people I talk to then are usually asleep too, easier to whisper to. But… some fo them feel disembodied, like, not here, but still around, lurking in physical form from one form to another.”

Veronica took the time to breathe, and beamed, slightly flushed. “So, what do you think about this?”

Benjamin frowned, and chewed his gum thoughtfully. “I think,” he started, before blowing a bubble that almost touched Veronica’s nose. “I think you’re the craziest girl I’ve ever known.”

“That’s my baby Benjie!” She laughed, and before he could react to anything put him under a headlock and a noogie before pushing him back into his seat. “Aaaanyway, you didn’t come here for gum, noogies and crazy chicks -”

“Well, the last one, maybe -”

“Yeah, maybe – but anyway, was there something you needed me to know?”

“Uh, yes, in fact. I heard a bit of Carson’s rant.”
“Oh, don’t we all. Go on.”

“He’s planted an observer in our midst. Well, I’d say a mole but that makes us sound illegal. Marcus Forrest. He got put in as ‘Project Liaison’, some bullshit title that just means he gets to see everything that comes to you.”

“Cheeky.” Veronica wrinkled her nose at the manila folder containing Forrest’s profile, a small, middle-aged man with glasses who could have been a gun-toting maniac and no-one would have noticed.

Trouble with a capital T. “Have we done anything about this?”

“Already dealt with. Sent him to the sewers to scout out stuff. Never came back. We did, however, find this…” He slid a tape across Veronica’s desk. “… in our black-box records. Goes completely garbled after a while, but from what we did catch in the recordings, we can assume they’re all dead by now. The tracking devices on their gear have been destroyed, so they ran into someone who knows the way we work. But the main point is that Forrest isn’t going to snitch for Security and Weapons anymore.”

“Well, he’ll put another one in his place, but by then we’ll find a way around it. Nice work, Benjie.” Veronica frowned in concentration, blowing a bubble larger than Benjamin’s opposite her. “As for the tape, I’ll look into it later.”
__________________
死の果までも追い掛けます、 探し出し
奪われた物全て取り返して見せる

RIP in peace old sig lolol 04/2015




Don't believe your eyes? Don't be surprised.




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Old 12/26/2009   #17
NoenGaruth
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"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WAS THAT?!" Lieutenant Marshall shouted as he pulled off his headset and stood up from his computer, looking out to the motel area, hardy able to believe what he had just seen on the screen. Kijo was already gazing out in the same direction, clearly she had underestimated the targets and the crew of Tank R-27 had paid the price for it, therefore tactics would have to adjust to suit the new developments as she didn't wish to have anymore lives on her conscience today.

"The battle has just started and already we are suffering losses..." Kijo spoke in a soft flat tone, she then turned to her subordinates "Have the tanks back up a couple of hundred meters down the road and continue firing from there, it is clear we will only lose more if they engage at such close proximity, also inform them to concentrate their fire, increased blasts mean increased splash damage and they will not even need a direct hit to take out the targets." And just as she finished talking Jelanda had more bad news to report.

"Ma'am we've got an updated picture from the UAV's thermal imaging. Two more unidentified individuals have appeared at the motel parking lot - one apparently was thrown at the tank. Also we're picking up some kind of armored vehicle with three occupants, however we're unable to get a clearer view as the VTOL's are currently engaging the targets."

"Two more?! And now they have some kind of vehicle?"
Kijo responded with surprise, it looks like they're better equipped than she thought, and there were more of them. This was a big problem, since so far she knew one was capable of controlling water and from the way that tank was taken out another probably had some kind of telekinetic or gravitational power....but these newcomers could anything. So for now all she could do is wait and watch for them to reveal their abilities so she could come up with appropriate countermeasure.

"Alright, it would seem that we have more targets to deal with then, have all infantry squads close in at once, however make sure they do not get too close, since we still lack a complete idea of what we are dealing with right now."

Well, I have made my move destrillians, your turn
__________________



Hey who wants to come home with me?!
Ok that wasn't very smart but totally worth it!

Last edited by NoenGaruth; 12/26/2009 at 11:43 AM.
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Old 01/02/2010   #18
Bex
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It had arrived. The pounding, throbbing beat of pain that pulsed through Thetis’ head with the effect of a sledgehammer on piano keys. It was an endless ringing in her ears, a crescendo she couldn’t silence that would get louder and louder until she drowned in the agony of her own weakness. Thetis loathed the migraines. However, this hatred was not merely because of the pain, but because it marked a Destrillian’s limit. Such a limit had been imposed by human ineptitude, their stupidity had obstructed them from creating the perfect being. To be limited was to possess a flaw that was strictly human, and Thetis could not bear to consider herself one of that blighted race. Just thinking about how much she had depended on Viola for routine, discipline, Distrum - the very thought made Thetis sick to the stomach. Perhaps it was better that they could only rely on themselves to survive, rather than surrendering to the illusory treatment of Viola.

Spray from the fire hydrant had been whipped up by a draft of wind, ascending like a spiral of stars through a curtain of dust. A low rumble had eased itself into the silence that followed her attack on #011. Kerr was still alive, though his presence had wavered for but a split second. She had survived the blizzard of plaster and glass shrapnel, but even she doubted her chances of outlasting Kerr. It was this train of thought that made her weak, human. If she died by his hand, Viola would have won, and it would only be a matter of time. There it was again, the sentence imposed by the hands on the clock face, the sand in the hourglass. How much time did she have left? More importantly, how much time would the others have if she lost to Kerr?

“Who are you, with your normal job and your false name, to speak of pride?”

The words echoed eerily as the rumbling noise became louder. Who are you. He was right, even Thetis couldn’t quite pin down who she was, or who she was supposed to be. Was she Lucy Adams, Prototype #006 or Thetis Lucina Alcesteos? The girl didn’t know who any of them were. She was unable to piece together more than 3 pages of information of her past. Lucy Adams was a fabrication influenced by the life of prototype #006, and #006 was supposed to exist as just another Kerr Nordstrom. Thetis didn’t know who she was. It was as if she was far out at sea, floating away, screaming and screaming for help, but no-one was there to listen.

“So you two are the cause of all this mess, eh?”

If it wasn’t for the fact she was about to be murdered by a homicidal maniac, Thetis could have been forgiven for breaking into laughter. She couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing, nor did she have the time to fully sate herself in the hilarity of his presence. He wore a crimson scarf that fluttered in the cross-winds from the helicopters, his black armour was well fitted, possibly of military origin. However, Thetis had the most trouble dignifying herself in the face of his helmet, which gave the impression that he was some form of overgrown bug. His appearance was reminiscent of the superhero TV shows that Thetis occasionally indulged in. She had never seen a stranger man.

“Just what the hell is going on here?”

Thetis could barely hear him. It was as if the earth was howling under the weight of the tanks and the wheels of military vehicles. The blanket of dust was swept away by the engines of gun-ships while the air hissed with the pandemonium of voices. There was a heart-rending grinding sound as her bike was devoured by tank treads. Thetis’ gaze was torn away from the garishly dressed newcomer as the military crawled towards them. They had found her. How had she not noticed them? Humans were just moving masses of water. She had placed too much focus on Kerr, but now their fight was over. A loud boom tore through the night, and a shell burst in the parking lot, forging a crater in the already fractured tarmac. Thetis landed several feet away, staring into the starless sky on her back, the tranquil view sabotaged by a gunship already circling their position.

There were others coming, she didn’t have the energy to identify them, though they were definitely on their way. As she struggled to her feet, winded, aching and bruised, she felt a different signature, emanating from the man that was inexplicably hurtling towards a tank. She glared venomously at Kerr, smirking cruelly as she watched blood run from his nostrils, primal war paint decorating his ghoulishly pale face. They both knew their feud was over. In the face of greater adversity, Violan training had taught them to unite - the escape had merely enforced this. Thetis felt like screaming, she could finish it now, kill him and save the others. But she couldn’t face the army alone, she would die, or worse - be taken in. It felt as if the world was mocking her. Always letting her survive, but never letting her live. Kerr must have been laughing at her too. She gritted her teeth as she spoke, barely audible over the hum of military vehicles.

“I’ll take the ground.”

Thetis spun around to see an enigmatic armoured vehicle spinning to a halt at the opposite side of the parking lot. One of its occupants was unmistakeably a Destrillian, though their identity was intangible and weak. Its engines roared and revved as gunfire ripped through motel. Crouching as she ran, Thetis sprinted towards the contraption, ducking behind cars as glass shattered and explosions tore through twisted metal. The machine was firing against the military. An ally? Her shirt whipped around her as Thetis ran out from her final cover, bullets biting at her heels as she skidded behind the vehicle. Crouching behind the back wheel, she squinted to catch a glimpse of the passengers and driver. Two unfamiliar men and a girl. A short, brown haired girl. A short, brown haired girl with glasses. A short, brown-haired girl with glasses who was also crying. Blood was seeping from a deep gash in the girl’s right leg, while the other hung limply by her side. Thetis mustered her focus and let herself into Terra Michael’s thoughts.

Terra? It’s going to be ok. It’s me, it’s Thetis.

#006 turned her attention to the pair of men, glowering menacingly, ignoring her brain’s groans of agony as she was blanketed by a cloak of moisture. If they had hurt Terra, who had sacrificed everything to save the other Destrillians, Thetis would kill them.

“I’ll take her from here.”

She hesitated. These men were fighting against the army. Thetis didn’t know who they were, but at least they weren’t another enemy.

“Don‘t get caught up in this.”

Thetis motioned towards the oncoming storm, lifting her comrade onto her back as the beat of boots on tarmac became louder. Infantry men were closing in, and Thetis took a deep breath before darting from the vehicle to behind another car. If they were sending men in, it meant the end of shelling, at least for a little while. The debris of the destroyed motel would provide enough cover to shelter them from a full frontal assault. Still holding Terra on her back, Thetis bolted into the ruins of the motel.

The ruins were littered with debris. Thetis stumbled over flakes of concrete and pieces of plaster as she made her way towards a half toppled wall. Kicking broken splints of wood from the sodden carpet, Thetis gently placed Terra against the makeshift barricade. The sight of her brought the shadow of a smile to Thetis’ face. Knowing that the others were still there, surviving, was a comfort. As Thetis crouched behind the concrete, she felt unsteady. She felt dizzy, her arm had gone numb and her face was covered with a thin crust of blood. Her arm was still bleeding. Giving in to Weariness, Thetis sat opposite Terra, smiling weakly and speaking quietly as she tore improvised bandages from her tattered shirt.

“You’ll be safe now.”

Leaning forward, Thetis delicately wrapped a strip of cloth around her fellow Destrillian’s injury before quickly tying off a wrapping on her own arm. She didn’t have a lot of time. She placed both her hands on Terra’s shoulders, staring at her tear-stained face in earnest.

“If a man with short blonde hair and black eyes comes anywhere near here, I need you to shout me, ok?”

Thetis didn’t wait for a reply. Dropping her shirt to the floor, she struggled to her feet and turned towards the battlefield. Terra would be safe as long as she stayed hidden. The infantry had arrived, marching cautiously towards her. Moving away from Terra to find fresh cover, Thetis reigned in the rest of her energy. It felt as if her head had been split open as she stood in front of the army personnel, water rising in a spiral around her as she ran, a last ditch attempt to distract them away from Terra. Her whole body felt as if were floating on air, as if she was just watching from far away. The pain was excruciating, yet as she skipped along, whips of water hurling her pursuers into cars, walls and the air, Thetis felt normal. Numb, but normal. The girl laughed airily as she weaved around the building before diving into a hollow caused by the collapse. Thetis was walking on a knife edge, but she was content. The hands of time were slow now, but she was comfortable. It was do or die, and Thetis was adamant that she would perish by her own hand before the government took her in again. Fumbling for any sort of weapon, she grasped a shard of broken glass, beads of scarlet running through grime encrusted hand as Thetis lurked in wait for the next wave of assailants.
__________________

Last edited by Bex; 01/03/2010 at 12:53 PM.
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Old 01/03/2010   #19
Baldy
Default

It had never occurred to Idris Savage just how grateful she was for all the noise of the city until this moment now; she had learned very quickly how to block out some sounds and how to lock on and amplify—almost dissect—other ones. The important ones. And so in this alleyway, when she'd had the sounds of battle to her left and an unwitting Destrillian to her right, the small woman had heard the quiet hum of the man's baton, the sound dipping down in pitch and finally cutting out (for all the difference it'd make to anybody else's ears) as he switched it off. She'd heard the infinitesimally small click in the man's helmet as the optical equipment hidden in that ridiculous helmet took her picture, and for that she was glad she had brought her wig.

She had definitely heard the soap opera comment, too, but she'd chosen to ignore that.

And now astride the strange glowing motorcycle that matched – for better or for worse – his outfit, the unwitting Destrillian extended his hand to her.
"It’s fine. I shall clear the scum out for The Princess to arrive safely back in home." It took every atom of concentration to keep her face straight at "The Princess," but by some miracle - probably due to the irony of it all – she managed. "Fret not, Genevieve, The Dark Rider will handle the chaos; I shall count your crimes based on the evidence later but for now…”
And suddenly there was a flash of colour and the Gunmetal Glint's palette was no longer monochrome and discreet – this "Dark Rider," as he called himself, had thrown a bright and surprisingly comfortable red scarf around her neck. Before she had the time to inquire, he answered her question for her.
“Keep that; it looks like things are gonna be dangerous ahead, and this dirty city can get cold… We’ll meet again at a less compromising time. I look forward to knowing more about you—and possibly myself.”

And he was gone and she was laughing. The sheer incredulity of it all had forced the low chuckle from between her teeth and she let it – she hadn't found anything this funny in a while now.
"Clear out the chaos, eh?" she said down to the dead beneath her feet. She didn't wait for them to reply. "I can hardly wait to see where this one goes."

She leaped up and pushed off the side of one building only to do the same with its opposite another six feet higher. And another. It was like a deadly pinball bouncing off its confines, but the pale Destrillian had no confines – or so she liked to think. Idris ricocheted off the last lip of building and hit the rooftops running.

There was still a good mile to run before she arrived anywhere that could be considered the hot spot; Idris thought while she ran. She'd come to this city to protect the ones she knew (and loved, a bit) from afar, from the ones they'd all been used by; instead she was going to try and pull two of her kind off one another, not to mention she was meeting Destrillian prototypes she had never even met before. The plan of action was grossly different than the one she'd thought she would have to use… and yet that gave the chase a taste of suspense that she found she had rather missed.
Speaking of other Destrillians—

E…ma. Trapt on piper street. Hlp.

The girl in all her strength nearly missed a step as the discombobulated message whispered in through one ear.
Emma? Who would be calling…
Then the voice itself replayed in her mind and she fixed it to a face – a face with green hair and glasses. Terra.
So there's even more of us here now. Great. And from the sound of it, Terra's a bit handicapped. Just how many of us are going to converge? Danger ahead indeed, Dark Rider – for all of us.
As she cleared the twelve-foot space between one building and the next, all she could do was hope that whatever the case was, it had better be good.

It was good alright. Standing on the edge of a moderately tall building, Idris looked down on all the wreckage and felt within her the two presences that had caused it all. Water and… something stranger and less elemental. Gravity.
"Thetis and Kerr. Hmm." Idris had never seen much of Kerr before so she had no expectations to be met, but Thetis? She used to be the epitome of fragility, and now this? The Destrillian shook her head, partially in disbelief, partially to clear the black hair from her eyes – the wig was most likely going to go sooner or later, especially if a fight was involved. A real one, not the sissy little spats she might have gotten into on the way. A fight between Destrillians…

"And the army too, now? Goodness, we're just pulling out all the stops!" Her head cocked to the side in skilled consideration as she regarded the arsenal at hand: infantry were hiding in some of the vehicles, no doubt, and there was a movement of tanks and some strange aircraft as well. The clear, pale grey eyes widened in a surprise that, to the casual observer, would look playfully amused. On the inside, Idris felt on plan crumple in on itself: she had failed to keep the military out of this. Her feeling of inadequacy lasted for about two seconds before she commanded it to vacate the premises and immediately began rebuilding a new plan. So the military was here now, there was no changing that and it wasn't worth moping over; what mattered now was to carry out the end result of her original purpose, which was to protect her impromptu family. The fight was on.

Her first priority was to locate and match all the Destrillian signatures in the area, so she knew who was where – that was done easily enough. They were all quite close now. As the first shells were fired she could feel the Dark Rider – the darkness Destrillian – engaging Thetis and Kerr. It could only end badly for him, poor misguided thing, and Idris felt a stab of genuine pity for the man who had absolutely no idea what he was getting into. Thetis and Kerr themselves both felt extremely ragged; they must have pushed each other to the brink. Terra was a little farther off but coming in closer—strangely, not of her own free will. Idris took stock of all their positions and carefully filed them away in a part of her brain. Her instinct would tell her when and where they moved from here on out.

The infantry she could trust to her kin – human bodies were easily disposed of, after all. It was the hulking machinery that they needed her for. So now it was time to do her job. As she had minutes before, Idris closed her eyes and breathed, feeling all the metal around her and its use to her. A deep exhale and then another calming, steeling inhale, focusing now on the enemy and its toys – the tingling feeling she received was rather like having pins and needles all over her body, and a little savage grin escaped her at how unprepared they were. It was all metal, all of it – the only question remaining was, who to take out first and how to do it?
Now although Idris has been training herself to use more of her power without the old headaches, she still had limits. Considerably higher ones, but limits just the same. This work would require precision and not spectacle—for now. She stood on the edge of the building, almost teetering but always regaining her rock-solid balance, probing the tanks below for their weak points. Rather than explode the whole lot, Idris found that she could hit a few crucial weakpoints and simply disable the vehicles.
Let's get this show on the road, then!

The gunfire was ripping apart the scenery but she wasn't far in enough yet to be in harm's way. The Destrillian scanned the tanks and chose to scatter them instead of taking out the front or the back. They were all built the exact same and so she could pinpoint the mechanics within – so strong to normal human hands, yet so crucially weak to her own – and with a burst of power like heat up her spine and a movement of her foot like she was squishing something underneath it, the equipment that allowed the tanks to move were twisted in on themselves and then crushed beyond any repair, rendering them all immobile. Still able to fire, but unable to move – this was a plus. And it had taken minimal effort to boot.
"Tact wins over brute force," she trilled, smiling down on her work. A good half of the movement had been frozen – they had been chosen randomly throughout the formation and so impeded the movement of the tanks behind that could still move.
Now for more aerodynamics. This was going to be the tricky part as she hadn't needed to be very precise these days—her only practice lately had been on rooftops and those weren't nearly as hard to land on as tank cannons. Still, it was better to use her body's force than her powers for now.

So she hopped a few times on the spot, wrists loose, to gear up for what was about to happen. One hop, two, three—on the upswing of four, she focused on the base of all the tank cannons on the front lines and enforced her will to weaken them—as she landed, so did her intentions and the connection to the rest of the tank was weakened.
And then she sprang, flipped into the same two-footed stomp that had served her so well earlier, and landed square on the barrel of the first cannon. It dented in a most satisfying way beneath her – the cannon was now perpetually pointed at the ground but she'd no time to admire the work as she leaped again, using her momentum to fly through the air and land on the second target, which dented with similar efficiency. Three and four went smoothly as well, although she'd had to jump farther in between them; she'd landed on an angle on three to further propel herself and so it was curved sharply to the right now. There was a frightening moment when she almost missed on five, but managed to land one foot home – six, accordingly, was flattened completely, almost broken off of the rest of the vehicle. She was moving too fast for them to see what in the world had just brutally—beautifully—impaired them, and as her springloaded crouch hit tank number seven and she shot back up into a sideways aerial onto the next cannon she felt the Destrillian in her exulting at this excuse to stretch its legs.
Eight dented satisfactorily and, with her momentum lost and her legs feeling like jelly from all the shock they were taking, Idris made one more leap and landed safe on the roof of a small warehouse, rolling to an undignified but joyful stop.

"I'm surprised I missed that so much," she exclaimed to the air, unheard over the sound of battle. It took a few moments for her legs to regain proper feeling and function but as they returned good as new, so did something else. The twinge she'd had earlier had now escalated to something that could be called a headache, and though it wasn't the splitting pain it was bound to be if she continued, it was enough for her to stop a minute to fix it.
She lay perfectly still, searching and feeling for every inch of the pain in her head, be it nagging or sharp; quietly, she let loose a sigh as she took control of her own blood flow and thickened or thinned the blood flow in the corresponding areas. At the same time, she willed with all her strength to crush the ache down into something almost not there at all. She could feel the pain in her head like she was handling it in her hands. It was malleable and yet volatile, and always wanting to expand.
Not today, no sir.
Inwardly, she felt her combined efforts cut the pain away into something that could be confused for the lingering tenderness of a friendly punch to the back of the head. This, she had learned to do over her years of freedom – Idris Savage refused to be hindered by human mistake and the headaches had had to go. She was, then, capable of freeing herself (and perhaps others, though she'd never tried it) of the small ones. If done often enough, she could theoretically use her powers indefinitely—but she didn't want to try and find out.

She got up just as the VTOL found her.
"Aw shi—" was all she managed before she twisted and dived off the edge of the building. Even as the one bullet got lucky and lashed her foot with crimson pain, the growl she emitted through gnashing teeth was mixed with a strange sort of laugh. The expression "shot in the foot" had come to mind and the irony was not lost on her. There had been no time to bring up her shield, especially so soon after diminishing her headache, but she landed on her good foot and crumpled with a semblance of grace. The Destrillian was again glad that bullets were made of metal; a little bit of digging, a pain as she wrenched it free from her flesh, and then she slapped it flat between her palms and applied the very same bullet to her wound like a bandage. It stuck fast, adhered by the magnetic pull in the iron in her welling blood, and the bullet hole was sealed off. It would last at least until the end of the battle. There was no healing it, however – as powerful as Idris was, and however much control she held over her own blood, there was simply no way to reconstruct destroyed skin. She would have to heal the human way.

The VTOL was hovering above, probably searching for its target in the smoke and debris the spray of bullets had kicked up. It took the woman a minute and a half – "Slowpoke," she thought to herself – to climb back to the rooftop and jump the aircraft. Once she'd found her balance it was impossible to shake her off – the metal exterior melded around her feet as she walked, slowly but steadily, across the back of the craft, giving her an unshakeable base. When she was where she wanted, she looked down and saw the destroyed parking lot a hundred meters to her right.
"Time to get there fast." A sweeping motion and the tail of the craft screeched in protest as it was bent to suit Idris' path: the VTOL veered to the right and just as she got close enough, she decided a flashy entrance was in order. Truly.

So she flung her arms out to her sides, where the engines of the VTOL were, flexed her hands in the air to get a good feel of where all the important bits were in the machine, and then clenched her fists and crunched the insides into scrap. The VTOL dropped like a stone, travelling just that little bit more to land in—yes, in—the edge of the parking lot, tearing up asphalt as it screamed to a smoking halt.
Idris got up and off it, landing and rolling up onto her feet. She took her wig off with all care and then flung it behind her just as the aircraft exploded, incinerating the synthetic hair and so the last vestige of Genevieve Weatherworm.
"We had a good run, girlie, but it seems we've no longer any requirement of your service," she said, clapping her hands to get the dust off of them. She can make out the suit that could only belong to the Dark Rider and she can feel the dark eyes of Kerr Nordstrom somewhere up ahead, looking in her general direction or perhaps at the wreck behind her. Putting on her best smile, readjusting the scarf at her neck and shaking out her short, platinum blond hair with its flipped, flicked-out ends, she stepped through the smoke and debris to meet whatever would come her way.

To the Dark Rider, who had only met her a short while before and was no doubt wondering why the hell she was there—and suddenly not dark-haired. To Kerr, who she hadn't seen in years and despite her inner warnings, was rather pleased to see again:
"Miss me?"
__________________

Disappear with the stars and come back alive.

Last edited by Baldy; 01/04/2010 at 12:33 AM.
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Old 01/03/2010   #20
Alessa Gillespie
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There were many things Terra did not enjoy: she did not enjoy getting scratched by cats, or beans in her soup. She did not enjoy being kidnapped or being locked up, she especially didn’t enjoy shopping for underpants. Because the list of things she did not enjoy was so long, it made the things she did enjoy especially fun. For example, she was quite overjoyed when Destrillian prototypr #006, also known as Thetis Alcesteos, the nice girl who had power over water. She was even happier when she did what no one else seemed to be interested in doing and taking her somewhere safe. She even gave her a bandage, even if it was part of her shirt. Even as the other girl left, she was already feeling better, wiping her damp eyes and dabbing at her leaking nose. It made her feel pathetic though; always having to rely on others in order to get out of the stupid situations she got into. How would she be able to see if that murderer showed up again? Especially if she couldn’t even move…

She sat and concentrated for a moment. What on earth could she do here? She dug her nails into the dirt…

…dirt?

…of course. She could control the earth below her, couldn’t she? Certainly, she’d never attempted, not since the seizure when she’d demolished part of the facility. But really, how did that help anything? So what if she could move some pebbles, but how the hell was that going to save her or anyone else from anything? How was that going to get her to move? She pulled the clod of dirt out of the ground and tossed it weakly; quite weakly, as it hit her limp leg. It crumbled into two pieces, leaving her shin slightly brown and dusty. Stupid, stupid, how the hell did she think she’d be able to help like this? Why did it seem like her power was completely useless? Damn, what on earth could she DO to help?

Though it was her last shot, she tried to get the earth, something around her to move, simply using the power that resided within her. Her leg suddenly kicked, painfully, shockingly, considering she hadn’t been able to move it since when she was heading back home earlier. Perhaps it was—no, it had to be the power she had over earth, pulling it upwards. There was a thin layer of dirt covering her leg, perhaps it was possible to get herself moving, if only… she grabbed handfuls of dirt, hurriedly smearing it onto her legs, even spitting a few times onto the mess to make it stick more easily. She was GOING to do this, even if she had no idea how effective or painful it was going to end up. Finally, once she was content with the amount of mess she had covered herself with, she began to concentrate on picking up the dirt upon her legs. They kicked up, sporadically and with little pattern, and hovered in the air while Terra herself lay on her back.

She choked out a laugh and something that tasted like metal, and her ears rang, but it didn’t matter to her. She was able to move those limp limbs, those pieces of junk that they had been, and at least manage to get them into the air. She pulled herself up, grabbing onto her hovering knees to pull herself up. Panting and crying in pain, she forced her feet to stand onto the ground like they had those many years ago in her mind. Echoing the picture that popped into her mind, of the dirt that was covering her body, she pushed that dirt on her thighs upward, being the dirt around her knees and forcing the covering around her feet to the ground. Unsteadily, she was able to wobble to her feet, despite the pain in her head quickly growing. The brown-haired girl was scared she was going to start crying again in joy, forcing her legs to continue moving, standing up and turning around, even as blood dribbled down her leg, making the dirt on her legs even stickier than before. She wobbled, certainly, and she even fell over, but she was finally able to get herself moving. She tottered over to something that was still able to stand after all of the destruction and stood triumphantly, sending a message to Thetis.

Wuz abl 2 stand. I kan protekt u guiz nao!

Ignoring the growing headache, she stood, waiting, to keep her friends momentarily safe.
__________________

is daddy still a good man?
like a shotgun needs an outcome

don't trust the ones who shake with their left hand

ACKY: IM NOT A TURIAN I CANT MAEK BABBIES WITH GARRUS

Joe: NOT WITH THAT ATTITUDE


can you fight a legendary creature?


i was a TEENAGE CLAIRVOYANT
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Old 01/04/2010   #21
NoenGaruth
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"Infantry are taking casualties!"
"We've lost contact with over half the tank division!"
"Gunships are under heavy fire!"
"Remaining tank units are unable to advance!"

Kijo was standing there still, ignoring all the disastrous news being fed by her subordinates, as it could all be summarized into one thing - They were being badly beaten. The current tactics were capable of achieving victory, however the army would suffer heavy losses in doing so, and that was something Kijo was simply unable to accept....

As the Major continued to figure out what to do next, Lieutenant Jelanda and 2nd Lieutenant Marshall were still reporting all the chaos to their superior.

"Delta-2 has engaged one of the unknown targets on a nearby rooftop...has lost the target.....target is now on the tail of Delta-2........Delta-2 lost." Jelanda didn't have the slightest trace of surprise in her words, too many bizarre things had just happened. Then almost as soon as Jelanda ceased talking, Marshall spoke up.

"Gunship reinforcement are arriving now ma'am." Those words pulled Kijo from her mass of perplexing thoughts for a moment, but was shortly followed by. "Gunship reinforcements have been wiped out." Marshall couldn't hold back his thoughts and stood up to face the Major. "Ma'am, this is complete bullshit, how can a small group of individuals take out so many of our advanced units?! We're the army, we're supposed to protect this city and we can't even defeat a bunch of scientific rejects?!"

Kijo wasn't usually affected by the comments of others, but those words really hit her. All of a sudden old memories came rushing back to her, back to that day, when she lost the most important thing in the world to her.


Yumei...


Kijo remembered why she joined the army, to protect those who were unable to themselves, to make sure sure no else had to suffer the loss that she did. But she couldn't....even when she had worked so hard and always gave it her very best, people kept killing one another, and the innocent continued to suffer. She simply couldn't understand why people had to die just because of what some company screwed up years ago, what were these....things that caused senseless destruction and death onto those who were simply trying to do their job and protect the people they serve? Perhaps these Destrillians really were nothing but monsters that crawled from the shadows of THAT company. Viola. A demon disguised as a corporation. Those scientist are the ones who should suffer, not Osea.

"...damn it, just damn them all." Kijo mummered to herself. Marshall just fell silent as he could tell she was getting very agitated, the battle was clearly getting to her, and he couldn't blame her, it was getting to all of them. No matter what they did the enemy just kept knocking them down. At this moment Jelanda knew what to do, and walked over to the major with a handset.

"Ma'am, I've got Commander Farant on the line." She said calmly and held out the handset to her superior. Kijo took it and began to walk past Jelanda, giving her a quick pat on the shoulder as to say 'thanks', then proceeded away from her subordinates to the side of the roof where the VTOL was sitting.

"Sir" She said in a strong, serious voice to mask her stress.

"Major, apparently there have been complications, or so I hear."

"Complications are not even the half of it sir, the targets, they are Destrillians, those things from four years ago, and there is currently at least four maybe more at the motel area, our forces are getting beaten badly and the enemy is for the moment showing no signs of giving up. I thought I would be able to end this quickly, however I was simply not good enough."

"No Major it's not your fault, it's mine." Farant replied in a calm manner, then let out a sigh before continuing. "Myself and the other commanders had an idea that these hostiles that have been terrorizing the city might have been the same from four years ago, however due to the lack of activity in years from them we simply ignored it. But I see now that we shouldn't have kept this from you as the result was our forces marching into a slaughterhouse." The commander's voice was now filling with regret and despair. Kijo was caught off guard by this new information.

"Sir? Does that mean we cannot win here without sacrificing a majority of our troops? I have the MLRS's on standby at Corriander park, just give me the word and they'll open fire." Farant responded right away with a serious tone.

"As much as I'd like to do that Major, we're dealing with some powerful beings here, one of which I'm positive can manipulate metal. And what would happen if they were to intercept even one of the MLRS's rockets before it separates in flight? If it got directed back at the launchers - which are currently stationed right near a suburban area, the damage could be catastrophic. No Major we cannot use those."

They both were silent for a moment until Kijo asked "Then what can we do Sir?" Next she thought she could hear Farant place his hand over the receiver, followed by muffled sounds of multiple voices, then after a minute the commander's voice could be heard again.

"Major, after talking with my colleagues, we've decided that we have no other choice but to call for outside assistance in dealing with this manner. As luck would have it there's an IRIN command ship heading back north from military exercises, it should be just on the other side of the mountains to the east of the orange Zone. I'll make the call. In the meantime, send out a full withdrawal order to all forces in the vicinity of the motel, that is all."

"Yes Sir!" Kijo replied, then waited till Farant hung up. So, they have resorted to calling upon them....but I guess we really have no other choice, after all they are better equipped for dealing with such opposition.

IRIN International were almost like gods when it came to war, their technology was like nothing she'd ever seen before. She just hoped they'd be able to respond quick enough, but for now, she had her own task to deal with. Turning back to the direction of her subordinates she quickly ran back over and before she had even stopped she was shouting orders.

"Attention everyone, as issued by Commander Farant I am hereby ordering a full retreat. All unit's are to withdraw from the combat zone immediately!"

"Yes Ma'am!" Jelanda replied before jumping on the radio to pass down the order. Marshall on the other hand was baffled by this.

"Ma'am? What's happening, are we throwing up the white flag already?" His words made Kijo's eyes lock onto him, and she quickly replied. "No. Command has decided to pull back our forces from battle. We are going to let someone else take care of this one." She then immediately turned away from him and began observing the withdrawal with a pair of binoculars. Marshall then actually let out a sigh of relief. "So command finally folded and are calling IRIN in? Well at least our guys don't have to face those monsters anymore..."

"Just so" Kijo replied while continuing to look out through the binoculars, then added "Well now that you are at ease again Lieutenant, how about calling the MLRS's and having them return to base?" Marshall paused for a moment, then gave the major a cocky grin as he said "You got it Ma'am!"

As Marshall walked away Kijo could finally enjoy some peace, but sadly that was short lived, as a video feed jumped onto the screen just next to her, the image on it was of a middle aged blond woman wearing a military uniform and a beret. She also looked very happy....maybe a little too happy. The woman on the monitor then spoke to her.

"Why hello there! I'm General Sophalla of the IRIN International Private Military Company, and you might you be miss?" Sophalla spoke in a cheery tone. Kijo knew of Sophalla, however she had never expected her to be this....nice.

"Major Kijo Matsuya of the Artolian Armed forces." She replied in her stern, serious manner.

"Well pleased to meet you Major Matsuya! And thank you for choosing to do business with IRIN~. So your commander tells me you're having a bit of trouble with some nasty vagrants down there?".

"Yes that's right General. According to our records we have positive ID that the targets are in fact Destrillians."

There were few things that could make Sophalla break her constant smile - the words 'Destrillians' was one of them. Almost instantly her face changed from that of bliss to one of anger, and quickly let out a very loud "WHAT, THOSE REJECTS ARE STILL GOING?!" Which made Kijo stand back from the monitor, but just as instantly as Sophalla became angry, she went back to being happy, then continued talking in her blissful tone.

"Oh my, it looks like you have quite a pickle on your hands then Miss Matsuya. But not to worry! We at IRIN will deal with these little critters in no time~!" She then leaned forward and added. "Just make sure all your people are clear, this could get a little messy"

"Copy that, you're cleared to move in when ready, tho be warned, these targets have been throwing around tanks and pulling VTOL's out of the sky."

"Oh not to worry! We have countermeasures for all that stuff, just keep you eyes open cause here we are now~!" Sophalla jumped back into her chair and extended both her arms out in an expression of 'Ta Da!' as a loud noise could be heard to the east. Kijo and her subordinates looked out to see a gigantic mass of a vehicle emerge from the clouds hanging over the mountain range. The sight of a IRIN command ship was never a dull experience, the vessel was sleek and beautiful in design, and also roughly the size of an aircraft carrier. Only IRIN would know how to keep something like that in the air.

"Alright IRIN, let us see what you have up your sleeve."

______________________________________________________________


The bridge of the command ship was bursting with sound as the crew began readying the ship for engagement. Sitting in the center of the room was General Sophalla, joyously listening to all the chatter around her, as though he was hearing the prelude of a symphony that would be her foes destruction. What goes on in her head at times like this was thought to be random thoughts about, well, happy things, however her mind was in fact in a state of normality, it was only her exterior ringing with joy.


So......the destrillians once again. Personally I'd have been better off if I never had to hear or see them ever again but ah well, such is life. If they're anything like they used to be I suppose I'd better get our defenses up.


"Alrighty everyone! Now we all know the enemy of capable of doing things out of the ordinary, so let's make sure none of those things can get at us, ok? OK! Forward defensive energy barriers and just for good luck, turn on the EM shielding! That way if they try those powers of theirs on us the strain from the EM will make their heads go boom~! AhaHAhAhaHaHA!" The crew didn't need to respond as Sophalla was now consumed by her insane laughter, something they were used to in any battle zone. The General might be a nutcase, but she was an intelligent nutcase who knew what she was doing, so they were able to tolerate the unusual behavior.


After a few minutes of setting everything up the vessel was ready and practically on top of its location. Sophalla stood up and starred out eagerly upon the area.


"Ah excellent! Do we have confirmation on the target's location?" She asked with utter excitement.


"According to the Artolian forces, the enemy should be located at the ruins of a motel, and there seems to be only one motel that's been torn to pieces, we're also picking up an unknown armored vehicle, doesn't match anything used by the Artolians." Replied one of the operators. The general's eyes lit up at the words.


"Superb, they'll be incinerated too!~" She then pointed her right arm in the air and cheerfully yelled in a cheesy foreign accent (*French*) "PRE-PAR TO FIRE, ZE FORWORD PARTICLE CAN-ON!"


"Aye Ma'am. Particle cannon charging, full power will be reached in 3 minutes." The deck officer replied. Sophalla placed her palms together in delight, she always enjoyed seeing things get vaporized.


The time has come and your numbers are up destrillians. I'll do what Viola was unable to. And then, I shall have the cupcakes I baked last night, yes.... I like the sound of that plan~.
__________________



Hey who wants to come home with me?!
Ok that wasn't very smart but totally worth it!

Last edited by NoenGaruth; 02/09/2010 at 03:37 AM.
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Old 01/05/2010   #22
Baldy
Default

"I don’t know if you’re calling me out or that guy who nearly totalled my armour. Once we get out of here, I want to know. I have to know. What am I; who are you all. And why is everyone out to get each and everyone of you…" said the Dark Rider as the baton buzzed and crackled and energy went bolting off behind them. It was carefully stowed away and the man with his makeshift scarf gestured toward Idris. For an absurd second she thought he might want his original one back but then he spoke again: "But for now, I've gotta incapacitate that lunatic before he can kill more of them."

That made sense. Idris paused, gnawing at her lip gently in consideration; she'd heard the news of the mass killings and accidents lately and had had a hunch for the past while, but only now did it come to light. Kerr was probably behind them all and the only reason he could want to take out that many people – like he could have done here – was to take out a Destrillian.
He was trying to kill them all, she realized. For one reason or another, she found she was neither very surprised, nor very frightened. But before she had time to figure out why, he was speaking again.
He talks almost as much as I'd like to.
"…we're gonna escape. My gramps can take us out of the city until things cool off. Will you join me?"

She'd stopped listening at "city." Out of the city was out of the question – Idris knew how these things worked by now and she knew that once you were out of the masses they could find you and pick you off as they pleased. They needed to remain in the city, that was for sure—but this was a losing fight, with two Destrillians almost out of juice and another who barely knew what he was really doing.
And another who feels a little whacked, too, the small Destrillian thought as she remembered Terra, whose presence was somewhere not too far off. In terms of strength (if she wanted to be REALLY cocky) it was her alone right now.
She might have been a little wrong on that because at this precise moment she was violently shoved to the side.

"BEHIND YOU!" she heard, but only after she felt the presence of the bullet in midair. She almost felt like laughing – she'd been milliseconds away from being done in by her very own element!
"Just goes to show that a couple seconds of thought are a couple too many for this battle field," she grumbled, inwardly testing herself to make sure she was unharmed. The sharp, ringing CRACK that she heard was enough for her to look up to check and see if her… saviour, she supposed, was alright as well. Much to her amused surprise, she noticed the small but noticeable dent in the Dark Rider's helmet. It seemed that—
"This baby isn't all show you know," he said, finishing the sentence for her. She could tell from his voice that he was grinning almost unproportionately to the matters at hand. A mechanical voice, a burst of dark matter and the wall behind her exploded.

In the abyss of smoke, she could faintly make out the outline of Kerr, a little while off and most certainly holding his own. "Let's go together," she heard from her right as she flipped smoothly to her feet. "This ain't over yet."
For the first time since entering the fight, Idris full-out laughed. It was a strange noise to hear among the sounds of battle, but it was strong and confident and full of something that said they'd all make it out alive.
"It'll never be over, hon," she finally said, smiling in a way she hoped wasn't too sad—she'd hoped to avoid thinking about the past. "If you have something to take up with Kerr, then go right on ahead; I'm perfectly happy to wait until I have no choice. There's not going to be any getting out of the city, either," she continued grimly, sweeping an arm around at their scenery. "We need to escape another way. I'm going off to find the others – if you can help it, try not to kill anybody, okay? I know it's real rich coming from me, but please." It was the most she'd spoken in a while and the pale Destrillian was happy to free up her vocal chords again. With a mock salute she was up and gone, weaving through the smoke to find Thetis and Terra.

There was less of a battle going on, she suddenly realized. The noises of gunfire and shouting were becoming less and less, and was that a "retreat!" she'd just heard?
It couldn't bode well.
She knew that the end of this fight could only mean the beginning of another. After all, the Destrillians never really won, did they? There was only ever another round to come. With this thought in mind she felt more than saw Thetis lurking in the shadows and made her way up to the water Destrillian post haste.
"Hey, you," she called out with as much vigour as she could muster. "Enjoying yourself?" The reply made Idris smile, though it wasn't something she would have expected the old Thetis to say. "I think it's about time we moseyed on out of here, don't you? I can feel Terra somewhere nearby – can we get to her quickly?"
What a reunion, the woman thought as Thetis gave her answer. No "Nice to see you're alive!" or "How've you been?" Just more fighting.

She sighed as she noticed Thetis moving, and took off to follow. It looked like it was back to old times, then.

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Old 01/12/2010   #23
Alex
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It was as though in the blink of an eye every convention that Kerr had set his life by, simultaneously vacated the premises without so much as a lingering wave or any recognition that Kerr had once lived his life by their strict and unaltering ways. Now, for the second time in his life he felt the familiar tearing at the core of his being, as all of his previous insights into how the world should behave and what his place was in it were blown apart just as readily as the environment around him seemed to explode in a mesnmeric kaleidescope of dust and shrapnel.

Destrillians. He didn't need to rely on his finely tuned psychic abilities to tell that the colourful collection of characters that had appeared on the scene to play hell with the military presence around the motel were Destrillians.

His patience had more than worn thin by now. Today had started so simply, so routinely, and with he had acted and planned every precise moment with the same skill and forethought that he conducted every action and engagement with his enemies with. All of that had been blown away by the stubborness of one opponent, one who refused to die at his hands like she was meant to. The thought was infuriating enough without the involvement of these interfering beings and the laughable human military who desperately sought to police a situation that was so rapidly falling out of their control that it could have been a scene from a classic comedy.

His face contorted into one of frustrated malevolance he felt a bullet whip by the bloody side of his face. The rush of air feeling unnaturally cool and pleasant on the raw open cuts. It was time to reassess the situation (and although it was almost physically painful to come to terms with) his priorities as well. With all the fury of a spoilt infant that was forced to give up playing with his most favourite toy he quickly spun on the spot to survey what was quickly turning into a battlefield unlike anything he had seen before.

His senses told him that there were four Destrillians, excluding himself, currently in the immediate vacinity. Thetis, had disappeared from sight amidst the chaos and she was in a close proximity to another familiar signature, one that he remembered from four years ago. Oh wonderful Terra is here too, what a godsend, he thought sarcastically to himself. Not disguising the contempt he felt for the weaker Destrillian. Strafing to the side to avoid a hail of machine gun fire came almost second nature to him, his countless hours of training in the Violan facility taking control with such ease that his mind was free to expand, to formulate plans and to survey the area. He fell into a couch behind a car, raising his head to peer with seemingly sightless eyes in the direction of the advancing military, but his mind and his psychic senses were looking in another direction. Every other direction in fact.

Th other two Destrillians at the scene, Idris Savage, another familiar energy signature that burst onto the scene like a bombshell and this character in the strange armour were close together, possibly in conversation. In hindsight, Kerr reckoned that venting such a self destructive amount of power on trying to remove that idiot from the fight was a poor move for two reasons. Firstly and most importantly he was beginning to feel the effects of what letting such incredible power dictate the course of this fight. He could tell he was bleeding from places other than the cuts on his face and forearms, shortly he knew the blood would begin to come from his eyes as well as his nose and ears and then it would really be time to consider retreat. Secondly, he knew that this battle could not be kept up indefinitely. As destructive as the Destrillians were in combat, they were to forever be limited by the toll using their powers took on them. Humans hid their own flaws behind their machines that fell before them like cardboard cutouts but did not tire, and annoyingly they seemed to have an endless supply. It was a war of attrition, and Destrillians were not designed for it in the slightest.

This brought him to the third and most staggering conclusion about the present situation. In order to survive the assault of the human beings he would need to rely on these others. Inferior to him though they were, he knew he was weakening to a dangerous level. That made him uneasy, weakness and uncertainty were not feelings that Kerr frequently entertained. No. He concluded, if there was to be any chance of a successful escape then he would need the others. It took a few ragged breaths for the plan to fully sink in. He had never relied on the help of anything or anyone in living memory. Now circumstances were forcing him to cooperate with the same lesser gods that he had dedicated his life to ridding the world of to make way for the dominance and majesty of his own power so that he may stand alone as the greatest of the Destrillians.

His attention was brought rocketing back to reality as a VTOL gunship swung into view to his side, unleashing a lethal rain of gunfire into the ground where he had been crouching in silent observation moments earlier. His agility was far more than human, even with the degree of damage done to his body already. His psychic aptitude and inability to turn off the constant awareness of the gravitational fields in orbit all around him meant that he was constantly aware of his environment, and the moment he sensed the bullets heading his way he acted without thinking. Manipulating his way gravitational field so it was attracted powerfully to some wall behind him, he rocketed backwards in a painful jerking motion that looked as though an invisible car and tow rope were accelerating furiously away from him. He never, made contact with the wall, not like the attack he used on Thetis. Instead he stopped the pull almost as soon as it had begun so that he stopped moving two dozen metres away from his prior position. The experience made him nautious, he was now too tired and ill equipped to properly cope with the sensation that he was so used to. He put the feeling aside for now and watched with loathing as the human airship advanced on his new position and straight into the path of the beaten and ruined remnants of the car that Kerr had been using for cover, as it took off upwards into the air like a rocket. Temporarily released of the Earth's gravitational pull and attracted strongly to a spot located roughly fifty centimetres above the pilot's head. Their deaths were guaranteed as the resulting fireball showered the parking lot with the flaming an d grotesquely mangled debris from both vehicles.

The explosion was not pretty but at least this area of the car park was closer to the humans than to his...new allies.

Kerr promptly buckled over and vomited.

It took an almost indescribable amount of effort to stop Kerr from crying out as the use of the power filled his mind and every limb of his body with a terrible pain. The same way a man would never try to walk on a broken ankle, Kerr's powers were still functional but using them was becoming indescribably painful.

It was time to leave.

He swore mentally, as he jogged towards the nearest Destrillian energy signature, thankfully they were all in a close proximity. The pain traditionally receded after he stopped the use of his powers, but now it was only stubbornly beginning to dull as he motivated his body to move through an uncomfortable combination of survival instinct and will power.

Then he began to get truly worried, the gunfire had was receding. It had been a good while since he had felt bullets spin past him. Humans were not ones for retreating, it was not how they fought. They piled their military together and used it to full effect through relentless attrition. Overwhelming opponents through their force of numbers, the size of their guns and unwavering persistance. This change in tactics only enhanced the unease he felt at remaining here any longer than necessary.
Wearily he clambered over what had once been one the motel's structurally integral walls. The pain in his limbs and head had receded to a dull thump, and he took a moment to catch his breath. That last move was pretty far removed from the athleticisim he had displayed early on in the fight.

“Hey. Sorry to disappoint" Kerr's almost grudgingly turned his head to face his speaker. Momentarily disarmed by the casual tone of voice, Kerr couldn't help but feel nothing but loathing at the armoured Destrillian that advanced towards him now. Bigger, taller and better built, even beneath his ridiculous armour than he was, Kerr couldn't help but heighten his senses and prepare for what could be another battle. Everything about this man seemed to put him on edge.


“Something bigger is ahead of us. Something far more devastating than the army, I suggest we take to the sewers with the girls.”
Oh at least the idiot has a brain “Despite me wanting to take it all out on you, we’re gonna need each other to survive. Like it or not, you’re coming with us.”

"I know I am"
Kerr replied harshly, resisting the urge to tell the man facing him that he wouldn't live to make another threat against him. His jet black eyes darted towards the weapon held threateningly towards him and forced himself to keep quiet. It was not going to be economical to their escape if he decided to provoke hostilities with a man with an obvious grudge to bring against him, and more importantly somebody that was currently in a much better physical condition.

He wondered if this man could sense the murderous black loathing coming from Kerr. His psychic link with the others had rotted away completely, did this mean they couldn't read his thoughts the same way he couldn't read theirs? The issue had never presented itself before now, and Kerr frowned awkwardly. There were several ways he could see that becoming a problem.

"Follow" he gave the command and jogged past his new companion in the direction of the others.

It took a moment to recognise that he had just clumsily climbed into the line of sight of the three female Destrillians he had been searching for. The wave of hostility he felt from them was almost like a physical entity, one that could be touched and in this case run away from. If he could only still interpret their thoughts then he was sure the death threats would be very creative indeed.

Kerr felt pretty much immune to their appalled faces and vicious glare, he very rarely spent time around anybody that wasn't anything short of openly hostile to him. Or dead.

"Something is coming." he shouted simply. Unused to speaking very much, trying to convey a sense of loudness and urgency to his usual quiet monotone voice. Surely they must sense it too.

"We need to leave now."
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Old 01/21/2010   #24
Bex
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The hiding place, created by the impact of a shell and debris from the gutted motel, was blissfully quiet. Heavy ripples stilled to small rings in the pools of water that covered the parking lot and Thetis crouched silently as she watched the boots of another infantry group storm past her safe haven. Despite the clouds of the storm having crawled away, it was dark. The pressure of battle lingered in the darkness, the fine line she and every Destrillian walked which placed them a hair’s breadth away from death. The threat that clung to her clothes, coating her skin like silt, suffocating her as she shuffled to the opening of her shelter, improvised knife in hand.

A rogue soldier jogged across her path, and within seconds, dozens of wiry water tendrils darted from a puddle of water that had formed in a crater in the asphalt. Much to her disappointment, rather than punching several holes through the soldier, they merely threw him off his feet. She had overestimated her remaining power. Thetis was exhausted. Forced to fight a battle on two fronts, it was hardly surprising that her energy reserves had dwindled to dangerously low levels. Scrambling from the hollow, The Destrillian sprinted towards him, kicking the rifle from his hands as she forced her weight on his chest. The soldier flailed desperately as the girl muffled his screams with her hand, his pupils dilating in fear as she drove the serrated shard of glass into his throat.

Stumbling backwards, Thetis felt sick when she heard the rasping gurgle of blood in his mouth as he tried to breathe. His death had occurred at the expense of as much effort as it took to swat away a fly or tie a shoelace. She couldn’t help it, of course, that she was so prepared to take a life. It was THEIR fault, THEY had made her like this. The thought of Viola irritated Thetis, even infuriated her. If it wasn’t for them, Kerr wouldn’t be have been on some ‘mission’ to kill her, and she most certainly wouldn’t have been dodging the army as they tried to riddle her with bullet holes. Thetis spotted the infantry group she had seen before, now taking cover behind a burnt out car not 20 metres from her. They must have heard. Thetis licked her dry, cracked lips and her mouth soured with that familiar metallic taste - blood was already dribbling from her nose. That was the problem with killing the human way - it was crude and far too obvious, Thetis thought to herself with such single mindedness that she didn’t even consider the exhibitionism involved in hurling a man 100 yards away with a jet of water. Her braid whipped from side to side as she frantically searched for some cover, some shelter to ensure she wouldn’t be a sitting duck. There was none - if she retreated to her hollow hideaway, she would be filled with bullets before she had a chance to apologise to Tonio for being late back.

Thankfully, Thetis had divine intervention on her side. Divine intervention in the form of another Destrillian, namely Idris, bringing down a gunship on the edge of the parking lot, but divine intervention nonetheless. The fire hydrant she had burst before was still haemorrhaging water, which soon collected in the air. It felt like she was floating far away as she saw a small tidal wave topple the chassis of the car and crush those who cowered behind it. Thetis felt oddly triumphant. The screams died away, and the Destrillian dropped to her knees, blood staining her teeth as her mouth lolled open in a dazed smile, eyes closed in elation. But mostly, there was pain. As soon as Thetis had paused: pain. Every bone and every muscle fibre and every fleck of skin, every corpuscle of blood screaming in agony. Her vision was blotched with a kaleidoscope of lights, and she felt so tired, so, so tired. If she used her powers again, she would probably lapse into Derinium, which would surely kill her. Despite being a sure fire way to get rid of the pain, the prospect of dying by brain aneurysm in a motel parking lot was about as appealing as being stampeded by a herd of bison. Crawling over to a pile of rubble, Thetis’ strength finally gave way as she collapsed on the heap of wood and plaster. It was only a matter of time now. She stared listlessly into the darkness. There were still no stars in the sky.

Wuz abl 2 stand. I kan protekt u guiz nao!

The fragile, garbled voice that broke through the horrific ringing brought a smile to Thetis’ face. At least Terra was getting better, after what she had sacrificed for the rest of them, it seemed only fair that her efforts would be rewarded. A little part of Thetis wanted to cry, but the trembling little girl had been buried under the ruins of Viola. At least they were all here now. Kerr wouldn’t dare attack them all at once. Her arm was still bleeding. Thetis wiped her nose, a smear of crimson painting the back of her hand. The blood that once soaked the front of her baseball tee had been washed away, leaving pale red stains that were barely visible past all the dirt. Her ear drums were pounding, and the roaring engine of the strange vehicle from before was muffled by the agonising screech of her migraine.

“...tis,”

A man stepped down from the armoured vehicle, holding three small bottles in his outstretched hand. It sounded like he was speaking through a wall. Thetis tried to steady her gaze. She felt practically drunk with fatigue. The bizarre pink water that filled the glass containers sloshed about as he waved them in front of her. She wearily snatched them away, pushing them into her back pocket as she staggered to her feet.

“This has gone far enough. Despite all this shit happening…I still want you and the others to be free. Free of the system, free of those horrible days. Take this, kid. Use it on yourself the others and escape…Get out of town. I can help you if you want... Just stop this insane shit kid.”

Thetis felt her energy returning in the form of sheer rage. Her blood began to boil, and the girl responded to his please with an unforgiving scowl. The nerve – a human patronising a Destrillian? This man was farcical. Thetis seethed with anger.

“What do you know about horror?”

Thetis paused bitterly. They may have made her forget her past, her life, but they could never make her forget the terror of ten years at Viola. She brushed past him, taking immense effort to retain her dignity and not fall over.

“Leave. I don’t have time for human ineptitude.”

She turned her back on him, blood boiling, head pounding. As she stumbled over the ruins, Thetis stared vacantly at what was left of the battlefield. Mangled Helicopter chassis, burnt out tanks, gutted vehicles and twisted corpses littered the asphalt. Water pooled in the base of the fissures that riddled the parking lot. It was over. The soldiers that had managed to evade the Destrillian onslaught were retreating, tripping over themselves as they ran for cover. They had won. It was only natural, she thought, as she leaned against a half demolished wall. Thetis was exhausted. Physically, she was on the verge of collapse, with a migraine that made her temples feel as if they were being crushed in a vice. She gazed at her feet. Her hi-tops were definitely ruined, and her jeans were noticeably more ripped than usual. She was not going to be able to afford rent.

“Hey, you,”

Idris’ voice echoed over the field of destruction, and Thetis smiled warmly as she caught sight of her friend’s wiry blonde hair.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Thetis rolled raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes.

“I wouldn’t exactly define this as enjoyable,”

She laughed airily and dragged herself away from the wall, concentrating solely on putting on foot in front of the other as she staggered towards Idris.

"I think it's about time we moseyed on out of here, don't you? I can feel Terra somewhere nearby – can we get to her quickly?"

Thetis nodded slowly, the world around her spinning as she tried to remember where she had left Terra. Her vision began to blur the landscape into a non-descript smudge of colour. She pointed vaguely in the direction of some rubble.

“Over there, I think,”

The ruins of the hotel left all of the Destrillians open to another attack, Thetis thought as she wandered blindly towards Terra’s presence. It would never be over. No matter the loss, the dregs of Violan staff that had survived would continue to hunt them. Humans would always fear what they could not control. Thetis could sense Terra, and much to her resentment, Kerr. It was unfortunate that he had not perished in the skirmish. The water prototype felt a cold fury rise within her. She was quite prepared to wipe Kerr from the plane of existence even if it meant killing herself in the process.

“Something is coming.”

That voice, that arrogant, cold, monotone that seemed to crack with a sense of urgency only further enraged #006. He was mocking her.

"We need to leave now."

What blazon audacity. He made a good point, yet he had no right to act as if there was any element of camaraderie between the prototypes. Thetis tripped over a crack in the pavement as she stormed towards him.

“Don’t you dare try to give me orders.”

She spat at him with abhorrent disgust. Kerr was responsible for the chaos that had ensued over the last few hours. His smugness was infuriating. He had not beaten her. He would never beat her. Thetis glared, staring into those black voids he called eyes. The eyes were a window to the soul, and Kerr’s betrayed his in its entirety. Emptiness. Thetis drove her shoulder into his as she barged past him in a last act of defiance. A rusted sewer cover shone with crystalline drops of moisture. She would conserve her pride if it was the last thing she did. Ignoring Kerr, she spoke to the others, pointing at the sewer cover.

“We can escape down here, it should take us deeper into orange zone,”

She would show Kerr that she, Thetis Alcesteos, still had the power to destroy him. Closing her eyes, she summoned the last reserves of her ability. Her head felt as if it was being slowly torn open with a pair of pliers, and her chest heaved with the effort of each rasping breath. The sewer cover shivered before being ripped from its fittings by a torrent of water, screws flying like bullets as the metal disc was hurled across the parking lot. Awkwardly twisting her body, Thetis smirked triumphantly at Kerr – the ultimate victory - before her knees hit the tarmac and all went black.
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Old 01/21/2010   #25
Alex
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If Kerr was to remember anything in the years to come from this catastrophe, it would neither be the sounds of the dead and the dying soldiers all around him, nor would it be the unspeakably awkward reunion with a group that he had dedicated his life to hunting down and eliminating. It would be the simply shining example of an arrogance that mirrored his own. Smirking, self-confident and full of rage.

“Don’t you dare try to give me orders”

His very being ached to the core as she pushed past him, but pride alone kept him standing. He was determined not to give an inch. Not to show any kind of weakness in front of her. Or the others for that matter, their fear of him would more than likely keep them from making an attempt on his life. At least he hoped it would, the new boy in the clown armour looked like he might be stupid enough to try it. But Kerr would cross that bridge when he had the energy to do so.

Every ounce of his being was telling his body to act the visceral hatred building up inside him. She was so vulnerable right now, perhaps in an even worse state than he was, and she had lost alot of blood. It would be so easy to kill her right now. But what next? He’d be torn to shreds within seconds by this plucky band of freaks that were grouped together in this ruined place. Patience and restraint, he thought to himself, were the weapons he needed to win this battle. His prey had moved over to a manhole cover.

“We can escape down here, it should take us deeper into orange zone,”
Kerr wouldn’t dare show it, but to tear the covering from its home in the concrete was an impressive feat for the kind of shape she had found herself in. The familiar wave of anger bubbled over him, was this jealousy? Did Thetis’ showing off mean she was more powerful? The gnawing spark of doubt in his mind disappeared almost as soon as it had come as he watched her fall to the ground unconscious. The realisation that she had used the last reserves of her power in an attempt to one-up him might have filled his body with a deeply murderous anger, but that subsided too leaving only one simple fact.

She was a fool to try and beat me. The victor isn’t always the most powerful, in this case the ultimate victory is going to go to the most patient. One should never leave themselves so weak, or so vulnerable. It was foolhardy, recklessness taking the place of the solider’s logic that should come naturally to these Destrillians. They’d all gotten too soft.
The armoured man immediately leapt to her side and began administering some kind of serum to her. Now that was certainly curious, precious few people knew about the Destrillians, and those same people had been the very ones who had tried to kill them all (albeit, doing a less successful job than Kerr had been), and had betrayed him and robbed him from his place in the world. All feelings of hatred and anger and battle were suddenly drowned out by the alarm bells ringing in his head. Only somebody from Viola could have access to such technology. The Destrillians were escapees, there was no conceivable explanation for why they would be carrying around Violan technology with them.

“Listen up everyone, this is a special medicinal drug called Éclair Bacta Serum, one of my old man’s creations. I don’t know what you guys take to ease your pain, but these things will have you in tip top condition after a few minutes. If anyone’s starting to feel weak, just tell me and I’ll hand you some…except you. You’re too dangerous to heal and I can’t trust you with this…”
the armoured stranger spoke with such ease and command of the situation. The kind of battlefield authority that the Destrillians had been, and he had not been at the same facility as the rest of the group assembled here. Had some element of Viola survived and created his new Destrillian? Clad in the armour and weapons that had always been the final endgame of the project?

“I’m also too clever to take drugs developed by Viola”
he said it venomously, hoping to catch the stranger off guard, or at least gauge his reaction to tell if he really was sent by that company. “I don’t take drugs from the same company that tried to kill all of us” he gestured to where Idris and Terra were standing, knowing that they knew as well as he did the horrors they’d experienced at their hands. “And I’m either not in the habit of trusting somebody dressed in the armour and carrying the weapons of the people that created us, tortured us, and killed us, either.” But the stranger betrayed nothing, his facial features obscured behind his stupid mask. But the cogs in Kerr’s head began to turn, a plan was slowly forming there. A plan that would hopefully buy him the time he needed not to get lynched by this group the second they disappeared into the sewers.

“We should leave her, she’s too weak and carrying her will only slow us down” Kerr nodded towards the prone body of Thetis lying on the ground as he moved towards the hole she had torn into the ground. Trying his best to keep Kram in his field of vision, he did not feel safe in the slightest now. Viola, in their time, had been known to act as calculating and as cruel as he did. The last thing that would put his mind at rest would be the thought of a Destrillian who had his own sense of ingenuity and cunning, but was still allied with Viola.

His suggestion was promptly ignored as he watched Kram pick Thetis up and place her over his shoulder. What a typical hero, Kerr snorted. His suspicion growing by the second, Destrillians were not heroes they were soldiers. His actions seemed so illogical, so unlike any Destrillian he’d encountered before.

“Well? Come on guys, IRIN’s not gonna wait for us to run! I’ll go in first, mind your conditions.”
Kram so very helpfully reminded them of their plight as he and the useless body he was carrying dropped into the sewers. It couldn’t be too much of a long drop Kerr thought to himself, but he resented having to follow the lead of a stranger that he trusted less than the three women combined. But now that Kram was out of earshot, it was time to cover his back.

He turned to Terra and Idris and fixed them with a very stern look. his coal black eyes refusing to betray the alarm that he felt in following this stranger.

“Listen to me, both of you”
he addressed the two girls, but really focusing more on just Idris. She was intelligent, she would understand the direness of his warning. Terra...Terra was just weird.

“I know you have no reason to trust me, and I am not asking you to” Kerr suspected he might have talked more today than he had all week. “But I’m telling you now, do not trust this stranger.” He let his voice quiver ever so slightly, sounding more alarmed than he really felt. Necessary for this plan to work, he reminded himself.

“Think about it. That armour is beyond regular military, not even mercenaries and PMCs re outfitted with that type of gear, and his weapons? Those are designed for a Destrillian” he voiced his genuine concerns, trying not to focus too much on the fact that this interaction was possibly the first conversation he could remember having where he actually spoke his own genuine thoughts out loud. “This man comes here outfitted in weapons and carrying drugs designed for Destrillians. He could only have come from Viola.” He let the accusation hang in the air so that they could absorb the weight of what he had just told them.

“We know that Viola are much more dangerous than I am. I’d watch my back around him” he told the lie effortlessly before turning to the hole and jumping into it. Hoping that his warning sounded genuinely convincing to them.

At the very least he had accomplished warning them about a very genuine traitor in their midst, and at most he had provoked memories of a hatred that all the Destrillians had for a greater common enemy than he was. That would get some of the negative attention off him for awhile and onto this enigmatic stranger. It was a win/win situation, he smirked as he hit the bottom and followed Kram's lead.
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Old 01/22/2010   #26
Baldy
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They found Terra quickly enough. Idris was keeping one eye on the suspiciously empty battle field—and one on Thetis. The water Destrillian was running on empty and Idris could see a collapse coming soon, if not worse. It was with this in mind that she allowed Thetis to go at her own pace, even though the situation could only get worse by the minute.

Terra had propped herself up against a wall, incredibly shaky but standing. Idris had previously been unaware of the girl's… imbalance, but when she saw how Terra was holding herself up she had to give way to a frown. That was earth, not bodily function, that was keeping the girl on her feet; whatever could be wrong with Terra's legs, and more importantly, how, Idris had no idea.
She was about to ask when she felt the other two Destrillians catch up.

At the sound of the footsteps she turned around – the little bit of shock left over from finding out about Terra's less-than-health didn't help the look on her face when she spotted Kerr – despite her decision to wait until she knew everything before making any tremendous move on him, she was still a little irked that he was trying to kill what must be the only thing he had that counted for a family. Her glare was only half unintentional.

"Something is coming. We need to leave now." Even when he was shouting, Idris could always see a fullstop after each of his sentences. They were cold. Brief. Cut and dried and desperately needing some sort of emotion.
Still, the words themselves were not lost on her. I knew there was something wrong about the retreat. An army in this city wouldn't just give up… they must have some grand finale on the way.

A couple things happened at once here.
Firstly, Idris felt the familiar, fluid energy signature of Thetis' expand in a rush of what she could possibly describe as heat. Not only was the blue-haired Destrillian angry, she was positively choleric.
Secondly, the small Destrillian noticed that the Dark Rider had joined the party. He looked even more out of place with his ridiculous, restricting armour when he was beside four other Destrillians—the juxtaposition made her laugh, but it was drowned out by Thetis' next words.

"Don't you dare try to give me orders." The venom in that voice was nothing like the old Thetis and Idris wondered, not for the first time, what had happened between old times and now to change her so. Not for the first time, the answer struck her without effort.
The escape happened, that's what.
A sigh escaped her while Thetis shouldered past Kerr, (who, Idris wondered again, might or might not care about the hostility his 'family' was showing him at all) stopping a little while away at something Idris couldn't quite see. Everybody turned to look at her; Thetis herself turned back, addressing the metal Destrillian and the poor unstable girl beside her.

“We can escape down here; it should take us deeper into orange zone.”

Idris Savage knew what was going to happen just before it did.
"You fool!" she wanted to say. "That might not just hurt you – it could activate Derinium and kill us all!"
She only managed "You f—" before the manhole cover flew from its place and shot like a bullet across the parking lot, water spraying from the hole like a not-so-crystalline fountain. Thetis smirked. Then she fell.


Somewhere, a dog barked.

Nobody could say anything for what felt like the longest time—that is, nobody except for the Dark Rider, with whom Idris was slowly beginning to lose patience with. "That was dangerous!" he said, and then, once he'd noticed the water Destrillian's unconscious state and had rushed forward to revive her, "Oi! Wake up! Blue hair!! Hang in there!"

Idris was tempted to tell the man "her name is Thetis," but decided against it. Perhaps Thetis would not be so thankful to have her name spoken for her. Still, watching the Dark Rider try and care so heroically for a woman whose name he didn't even know made her itch to tell him to back off, as he'd no idea what he was dealing with.
Ignorance is bliss, I suppose.

He was saying something to Kerr. Idris was too busy with her thoughts to notice anything apart from that the tone of voice he used was so full of surety that she could spit. It had been kind of cute at first, watching him run around trying to save everybody like he was the self-righteous, self-appointed protector of everything. But now, in the middle of a real crisis, the last thing they all needed was somebody playing hero.

“Listen up everyone, this is a special medicinal drug called Éclair Bacta Serum," he said, suddenly addressing her, too. Idris snapped out from her thoughts and focused on what was happening. The Dark Rider had some vial of something in his hand; it was pink and smelled sweet, and reminded Idris of candy and roses and poison. Her nose wrinkled imperceptibly as he continued. "It's one of my old man’s creations. I don’t know what you guys take to ease your pain, but these things will have you in tip top condition after a few minutes. If anyone’s starting to feel weak, just tell me and I’ll hand you some…"

She sighed. Playing hero again. The resemblance the stuff in the vial carried to Viola's Distrum was not a helpful factor.

"Except you," the Dark Rider intoned, pointing as viciously at Kerr as that armour would allow. "You're too dangerous to heal—I can't trust you with this."

“I’m also too clever to take drugs developed by Viola. I don’t take drugs from the same company that tried to kill all of us.” Kerr's equally acidic reply was punctuated by a stabbing point at Terra and Idris herself. “And neither am I in the habit of trusting somebody dressed in the armour and carrying the weapons of the people that created us, tortured us, and killed us, either.”
His point was a good one, and only added to the list of cons about the strange pink serum; the comment about the Dark Rider himself, Idris allowed herself to disregard. If worst came to worst, and he was working with somebody trying to take them all down, she could always crush him in an instant—what with all that metal sitting so snugly right on top of him.

Kerr's next suggestion to leave Thetis made Idris snort. It was terribly unladylike. The Dark Rider picked her up anyway, and although the heroism was getting old fast, Idris was glad to have somebody willing to carry the unconscious Destrillian down to relative safety.

“Well? Come on guys, IRIN’s not gonna wait for us to run! I’ll go in first, mind your conditions.”

He was gone before he could hear the ringing laughter that was Idris Savage.
Conditions? CONDITIONS?
It was hysterical. Out of the corner of her eye, the metal Destrillian thought she even saw Terra smile in what was a bit of a condescending way. This Dark Rider knew nothing about the pain that using power came with – in fact, if Idris was correct, he barely knew anything about being a Destrillian at all. He ran around with superhero armour on, he weakened his powers by diffusing them through electronic gadgets first, and to top it all off he didn't seem as genuinely concerned as he should be.
Not nearly as concerned as the rest of them were, anyway.

The feeling that somebody was looking at her caught her a bit off guard; more so, seeing as it was Kerr. Idris had figured the man would have followed the Dark Rider down into the sewers with silent but palpable rage, but it seemed he had something to say first—something to say to her.

“Listen to me, both of you." Like that was a problem. His eyes were, Idris remarked, the strangest she'd ever seen. Helpfully on his part, they pretty much rendered any show of emotion impossible. She resolved to figure him out yet.
“I know you have no reason to trust me, and I am not asking you to—but I’m telling you now, do not trust this stranger. Think about it. That armour is beyond regular military, not even mercenaries and PMCs are outfitted with that type of gear, and his weapons? Those are designed for a Destrillian.” The alarm he put in his voice was false, Idris could tell, but his concerns were nothing but true. “This man comes here outfitted in weapons and carrying drugs designed for Destrillians. He could only have come from Viola. We know that Viola are much more dangerous than I am. I’d watch my back around him."

And he turned and was gone, just like that. Silence reigned for a whole minute while Idris worked out what to say—what to do—next. She turned to Terra, who was still having a bit of difficulty standing. The girl couldn't possibly make it to the sewer all by herself, and Idris could feel something made of metal coming their way. Something huge.
She could also feel something else coming their way but couldn't quite place it – her mind was too full of things to do now, anyhow.



First order of business, then. Idris had felt how fragile Terra was in her telepathic voice. The last thing the poor creature needed was somebody like Kerr shaking her up with the notion of having not one but two potential enemies in their midst. It was time to set things straight.

"Terra?" she called softly, turning to face the girl. Her hair was brown now, Idris noticed, and it made her look a lot more… normal. "Terra sweetie, Kerr may or may not be right about the Dark Rider—that guy you saw with all the metal on him."



She stressed the word metal to make it a little more clear what she was getting at.



"But I know a few things about this situation we're about to get into. Firstly, Kerr wouldn't warn us about anything unless it benefited him, so I wouldn't place too much stock in his sincerity. He's weak now, but if and when he gets stronger he'll be a much bigger threat than anything else down there." She indicated the sewer a good thirty paces away, again hit with the problem that Terra couldn't make it all that way easily.

"Secondly, as for th' Dark Rider himself—I wouldn't worry too much about him." She laid her fingers carefully upon the red scarf around her neck, showing it to the girl. "I met him in a big deserted place all by myself and he did nothing to try and hurt me. He gave me a scarf. And a very self-righteous talking to. And that's it. He's got some sort of potential and he's almost flashier than I am, and he could use with a good arse-kicking to remind him that the world is, in fact, not his oyster." Her hand dropped and she moved closer to Terra in case the earth Destrillian should fall. "But that's all he is. Nothing more harmful than that, I think. And besides, if he does turn out to be a problem, a certain metal-manipulating girl will take all that pretty armour and use it to crush him."

She smiled her best smile, hoping to encourage. "Okay?"

The reply gave her hope that Terra wasn't completely unsalvageable yet.

"Thirdly, though," she said, dropping her smile, "that manhole is a good bit away and although you're doing a wonderful job using your powers to keep yourself upright, it's not going to be as easy when you try to move. I can feel things closing in on us, so we need to go now; would you mind if I helped you there, darling?"

While Terra's garbled reply came through, Idris was already thinking a few steps ahead and around. The big metal thing was almost upon them; if she looked up she was sure she would see it, whatever it was, but she kept herself from doing so for fear that it would distract her too greatly. And now that other thing was much more clear—another Destrillian.
Another Destrillian.
ANOTHER Destrillian? Idris thought. This place is just rife with them! And with everything else going on, she couldn't focus to try and decipher who it was. So she turned to Terra.
"Another one of us is coming—can you feel it?" She inhaled deeply, trying to feel the metal in the oncomer's blood, to taste it, to see if it was good or bad—no luck whatsoever. There was simply too much going on. "They might be any Destrillian we know, or maybe one we've never met. I suggest it's time to go."

Even as she carefully looped her arm around Terra's waist, Idris could tell that this was going to be a lot harder than even she expected. They managed a few paces and then they had to stop as Terra re-concentrated on staying upright. Idris decided that now, when she had used up all her plans and was now thinking for new ones, was a good time to look up.
The thing could only be described as a warship. And there could only be one place that knew they would need a warship to counter the enemy.


Idris didn't look up again. The new Destrillian was practically right around the corner.

The Gunmetal Glint twisted to face where the newcomer would appear, and hoped for the best.
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Old 01/29/2010   #27
Tennyo
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Sometimes, when Emma was riding on the train that took her too and from work, the eighth Destrillian prototype would become lost in her own thoughts and tune out everyone around her. It had become a comfort as well as a necessity to try to not feel the lives of the people around her, because in such a large city as this, it could often times be overwhelmingly painful.

This was a fact that Emma had learned about herself in the four years since she and the others had left Viola. Dr. Thomas, working off of Dr. Nedews’ own theories, may have actually been right about her. She could feel the life force of every single person around her, sometimes from almost a mile off if she concentrated, and each one took its toll on her mind. Humans were far too intelligent, which made them highly complex. Each one had different thoughts, and all were feeling different emotions at all times. Some people even seemed to be feeling two things at once, perhaps feeling conflicted about whatever situation they were in. This was especially hard on Emma, at least at first, until she learned to tune them all out.

It was on this particular ride home that she found herself drifting off to sleep. Her thoughts turned to the past as she smirked to herself about the chance encounter she had had earlier today. Emma had known it was Idris, and wondered if Idris had been able to guess who she was. It seemed as if she had, but Emma played the part of a stranger on the street, clumsily bumping into another when she wasn’t paying attention. She did have to admit that she was caught quite off guard with the way the other Destrillian looked, what with long black hair that Emma didn’t think suited her. She squinted at first, trying to decide if the hair was real or a wig, but then realized what she was doing and internally reprimanded herself for being so openly rude. Not that Idris even noticed, but that wasn’t the point.

The young woman leaned her head against the window of the train and closed her eyes, falling asleep almost instantly. Withough even realizing, she found she had drifted back to a time some twelve years before to hear earliest memories.

Emma fidgeted uncomfortably in her yellow robe as she followed Natasha down the hall. She was being led to a place known as the, “Recreation Room,” where she could meet and converse with other Destrillian kids her own age. The thought of it seemed rather daunting, however. She was the newest recruit and barely had a handle on any of the things that had been thrown at her the last few days. The tests had been quite taxing on her stamina, but what affected her most was wrestling with herself over her forgotten past. Amnesia, really? Her mind was having a hard time processing the idea of the first eleven years of her life basically not existing, despite the fact that as of yet, that’s all she really knew.

The grown up stopped in front of a large metal door and smiled down at the frightened looking child. “Oh come now, Emma, this won’t be that bad,” she chimed, her heavily accented voice ringing like a bell as she tried her best to exude courage. “You’ll get to meet people and make friends. How fun is that?”

“Doctor Thomas said Destrillians don’t have friends. We can’t have them.”

Natasha sighed loudly and shook her head. “Doctor Thomas is only an assistant, and a bit overly presumptuous as well.” The scientist bent over to better look the young girl in the eye. She placed a comforting hand on the child’s shoulder before she continued. “But I’m the one in charge of you and I say go have some fun.”

As Dr. Nedews smiled brightly at her, Emma found her heart lifting a bit and smiled back. Her heavily freckled face and dimpled chubby cheeks made her quite the endearing sight. It’s a pitty she’ll loose all that when she starts combat training, the scientist thought to herself.

After a few more encouraging words the young girl found herself walking through the large metal doorway of the recreation room, Natasha’s friendly smile the last thing she saw as the door shut behind her. She turned to face the room, bracing herself for the inevitable. There were a few other kids in the room, each doing their own thing and really paying her no mind. That is until two assistants entered in and called out to one of them.

“Fiona, it’s time for your test.”

“Ah fuck, man…” came the voice of a girl with fiery red hair from the other side of the room. She made her way toward the two assistants with a huff, bumping and knocking things over as she went. Her eyes eventually fell on Emma, who was still standing near the door and was looking hopeful at perhaps having her first bit of contact with one of her peers.

It was then that a feeling of dread came over Emma. Fiona smiled at her, or maybe it was more of a sly grin. At first the more natural of the two redheads felt excited, but then she got the strangest feeling of déjà vu. People had looked at Emma that way before, but it was never good. She knew this, despite not being able to think of any instances due to her apparent amnesia.

This instance, however, is one that she would be reminded of for years to come. “What’cha lookin’ at, fatty?” the other Destrillian spat, looking highly amused at her own words. The two assistants both began to scold her as they left the room, but it didn’t seem that Fiona was even listening to them as she glanced back at Emma on the way out and chuckled.

The young plant manipulator stood frozen to the spot. She felt afraid to move because if she did, the other kids would see her and laugh as well. Emma suddenly felt herself balloon to three times her normal size, so big that even people who might actually want to ignore her would still be assaulted by her presence.

“Don’t pay attention to Fiona. She’s a bitch,” came a voice from somewhere nearby.

Emma had suddenly shrunk back down to normal size as she honed in on the origin of those words. They had come from a girl, probably only a couple years older than she was, sitting in a chair not far away. She was leaning to one side against the arm rest, her hair brushing with the oversized leaves of an exotic looking plant. She held a textbook in her lap along with a notebook and pencil which she tapped absentmindedly on the paper as she looked up at the red head with hazel eyes.

“You going to sit?” the other girl asked. Emma made a few timid steps forward to a chair that sat neatly facing the other Destrillian. As she sat, the newcomer thought to herself that this girl was quite beautiful. Her hazel eyes were offset by olive skin and hair that was a dark brown, almost black. “What’s your name?”

“Emma,” she timidly replied.

“Hi, Emma. I’m Eve,” the elder of the two smiled warmly back, outstretching her hand in a sign of friendship. Emma cautiously reached out her own and the two of them shook.


That very moment in time is one that Emma would probably never forget, and one that she sometimes looked back on with sadness and longing. Sure, her time at Viola couldn’t really be described as pleasant, but the time she spent with Eve conversing in the recreation room was. The two girls changed much over time; Emma’s red hair grew dull and her chubby visage gave way to toned muscle and agility, perfect for hand-to-hand combat. Eve changed also, her skin and hair becoming darker, and her hazel eyes became permanently dilated.

But what did not change is the friendship the two had formed from the very first day they met. Eve was older than Emma and had been in the program a couple years longer than she had, and it was because of this that Emma looked up to her as sort of a big sister. Eve was the one she went and cried to when Natasha was taken away, and later when Dr. Thomas killed some of her mice.

It was because of this that Emma had always berated herself so hard over the way events turned out. I should have never left her alone with those drones. I should have followed along. I should have been there to help her when she was in trouble.

Emma could still remember to this very day what it had been like to feel Eve die. She had felt something wrong as her and Idris tried to find their way back to the other Destrillians, and her and the Gunmetal Glint had turned tail and ran back to where they had left their friend behind, only to find her beyond saving. Even when Emma had taken the Ice Queen into her arms, she could do nothing but feel every part of her body slowly shut down as Eve offered her a candy bar she had found in a desk somewhere. One last offering of friendship, and then she was gone. Emma hadn’t been able to do anything.

Together she and Idris had managed to get Eve’s body out of Viola amongst the chaos and wreckage caused by Terra. They chose a quiet, secluded place surrounded by trees to give her a proper burial. Idris fashioned a decorative grave marker out of metal and Emma transplanted some perennial bushes that would bloom with beautiful flowers come midsummer. In addition, Idris had taken all of the bullets out of Eve’s body and fashioned them together as jewelry; a symbol of all that they had lost also what would be avenged. Emma requested one to keep, and it was placed upon a long chain for Emma to wear around her neck, a way to always remember the friend she had failed to protect.

The necklace also served as a reminder that she would have to fight harder to protect the ones she cared about. All of the escapees from the Violan incident decided that it would probably be best to split up. However, one of their number, Terra, had been rendered unable to function alone by a massive seizure and other injuries she sustained in the destruction of the Violan building where they were kept. It had been because of Terra that they were all able to escape; someone had to volunteer to take care of her, and that someone had been Emma.

It hadn’t been easy, either. Squatting in abandoned buildings, sleeping in homeless shelters, being turned down for jobs due to a lack of identification, all of it made Emma feel hopeless. Either that or it was just the emotions of the people around her that she hadn’t yet learned to tune out.

She had taken to stealing clothes from Laundromats and selling them at new and used shops whenever she got the chance. It made her feel quite guilty, yet she knew she had no other way to get by. She would also go around collecting cans from garbage dumpsters to bring to recycling plants to get money. Occasionally she would bring Terra onto the trains to sit for a couple hours. However, she never wanted to waste money on a ticket, and eventually they were caught by a ticket inspector and had to get off.

Luck seemed to turn around for Emma, however, when she caught word from someone on the street of someone she could go to for a new identity. He was a very shady guy, but after a bit of saving up Emma was able to pay. Now, armed with the means to be able to get her and Terra on their feet, Emma went out and got a job in a fast food restaurant. She was able to rent out a room in a motel for the two of them to stay in for cheep by offering to help out with the upkeep of the place.

One particular day, as the young red head was walking along the street, she came across a small flower shop with large sign that said, “Help Wanted,” hanging in a large window. Without thinking twice she went inside and began poking around. It was a wonderful feeling to be completely surrounded by flowers again. No one appeared to be in there at the moment, and so she took the opportunity to clear her head and reach out to the plants around her. They were such simplistic organisms, with no emotions or convoluted thoughts. It was a comfort to be connected and feel only life, nothing more.

“May I help you?” came a soft voice from somewhere behind her. She looked up to see an elderly woman emerging from a back room.

“Oh. I uh…I saw the sign in your window. I’d like a job here.”
Emma replied, stumbling over her words.

“Oh? A young girl like you wants a job in a flower shop?”

Emma laughed. “Oh, yes! I love flowers! They’re…they’re my life!”

The two of them then got into a lengthy conversation about the bouquets around them in the small shop. Each discussing different things about each type and proper ways to grow them. Emma had learned a lot about botany in her time in Viola, and rightly so, given her powers. Even though some of if she had a feeling she had already known from a different time. The woman seemed so impressed with Emma’s knowledge and enthusiasm that she seemed adamant to hire her on the spot.

With the addiction of a second job, and one where the pay wasn’t too terrible, Emma was able to get a small two-bedroom apartment for her and Terra to share. It was in a bit of a shady neighborhood, but it wasn’t far from a train stop so it was convenient. Terra herself was even able to find a simple job that paid in cash over somewhere near Piper street.

Piper street…

“.E…ma. Trapt on piper street. Hlp.”


Emma awoke with a start as the train pulled into a her stop. Perfect timing. But what was that? She had been dreaming, and in the way that dreams have she was quickly forgetting everything that she had just heard or seen. However she couldn’t get over the terrible notion that something was wrong.

She quickly pulled the hood of her raincoat over her head and walked briskly home to see if Terra was all right. She should be there by now.
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Last edited by Tennyo; 01/31/2010 at 06:36 AM.
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Old 02/05/2010   #28
Alex
Default

=========MEANWHILE, AT THE OSEAN COURTHOUSE============

Osea’s city centre was a picture as far removed from the battlefield of the motel as it was possible to be. A sweeping landscape of white marble plazas and curved buildings made of deep azure glass and shimmering chrome. It was a maze for the average citizen to traverse the formation of courtyards and walkways to the various beautifully designed offices of high government, but one that was navigated daily by the most influential and powerful men in the country, and it had remained that way for over one thousand years since the city was first settled.

The seat of government and the most revered temples from ancient times had been built onto a high-crested, flat-topped hill surrounded on all sides by lush farmland, from there the city of Osea, and subsequently the entire nation of Artolia had spread out from, always with its government perched high above those they ruled. Over time the temples ad been converted and added onto with constructions of steel and glass, but the original classical designs, marble columns and fixtures had remained unchanged and barely weathered by the ravages of time. Many who were not used to spending their time on this citadel found it a distinctly jarring experience, this coming together of both the very ancient and the very modern. It was a stark contrast to the high rise skyscrapers of the city’s financial district that ringed the great hill, or the sprawling urban ghettos of the orange district that lay so far from the city centre that the current battle was just a blur of smoke far in the distance.

The High Courthouse was set midway up the side of the citadel and was perhaps one of its oldest and most beautiful to behold. Rectangular shaped and surrounded by two stories of enormous columns on all sides, propping up an ancient marble roof that looked unchanged since the days of antiquity. The statues adorning the four corners of the building all depicted various scenes from mythology, figures being condemned to damnation or brought to salvation by blindfolded and hooded figures. The courtyard that spread itself out in front of the building, clad in the same polished white marble as the court building and centred around an enormous statue that was almost as tall as the building itself. The statue was almost universally considered to be deeply unsettling, chiselled out of pitch black granite in the likeness of a blind, skeletally thin man, gazing skywards with sightless eyes and holding a pair of scales out with both hands in front of him. Many of those who found themselves standing trial in the high court found the macabre effigy a deeply unsettling omen of their fortune. Justice might have been blind, but the statue made it look intimidating and ominous.

The group assembled in the courtyard were starting to get restless; the loud buzz of whispers had erupted amongst the teams of lawyers and judges was reaching fever pitch. The most popular speculation for the increased military presence in the southern end of the city was that Osea had been the victim of yet another large scale terrorist attack. But that didn’t explain the faint hollow thump of cannon fire, or the aircraft carrier sized airship that was descending over the battlefield. Those with a more imaginative disposition had let their penchant for exaggerated theories get the better of them and every possibility under the sun, no matter how unlikely, was now a topic of discussion.

The only person who seemed to have nothing to say on the matter was the man who was the cause of the massive legal presence in the courthouse today. Clad in the bright orange prison jumpsuit, he was easily distinguishable amongst the small army of similarly coloured suits and various styles and colours of neatly cut greying hair. The former President of the Violan Corporation had remained stubbornly tight-lipped ever since the evacuation order had been called and he had been herded outside by an armed team of four security guards. He was the first one to make a mental note that the amount of security surrounding him at all times was overkill. With the handcuffs fastened around his wrists and ankles, moving anywhere in a hurry was a difficult task, let alone mounting an escape through one of the most heavily fortified areas of the country.

He didn’t look like the average president of one of the most powerful corporations in the world, standing at over six foot five tall, he had nearly a head’s worth of height over most of the people assembled in the courtroom. His presence was positively fearsome to behold, standing ramrod straight with the efficiency and muscular build of a trained soldier. Despite his fifty years of age, the muscles beneath his jumpsuit still looked powerful and efficient enough to beat down a man half of his size. This was of course all to be expected, Jason Spencer’s military record before he came into the acquisition of the Viola Corporation was nothing short of legendary. A former highly decorated Lieutenant Colonel, and practically regarded as a national hero. As little as ten years ago, it had been common gossip that if Mr. Spencer had decided to go into politics then he would have ascended through the ranks to lead the country faster than any man in history.

It was tough to believe that it was the same Jason Spencer that now stood trial today, the former clean cut war hero turned corporate tycoon bore little resemblance to the man he had once been. Whether it had been the spell in prison or the dramatic upheaval of his company, he now looked tired and rough around the edges. More wrinkles had formed around his eyes, and his sweeping mane of collar-length slate hair was now streaked liberally with badger stripes of white at the temples. His formerly smartly trimmed goatee was now overgrown and framed by a thick stretch of stubble along his jawline. However, despite his newfound scruffy demeanour he was still instantly recognisable from the old scar that had long since decimated the left hand side of his face. An angry dark fault line of raw scar tissue that stretched from just under his jaw, up over his left cheek and then through his eye and then branching out into two separate lines from his left eyebrow. One stretching up across his forehead to end above his nose and the second line stretching further across round the left side of his head, disappearing into the hairline on his temple. The scar, posture and the fearsome jade green eyes that stared out from beneath his ragged face were his hallmarks, and what had made his grizzled visage memorable throughout the country.

“What do you think it is?” his skinny, bespectacled lawyer turned to ask him. Spencer hadn’t even bothered to learn his name. He didn’t even bother to turn to acknowledge the little man’s question; he just continued to stare hard towards the sound of battle.

“Spencer? I they’ve given the all clear, it’s time we returned to the courtroom” a security guard with a face that looked as though it had been chiselled out of a concrete block ordered from his other side.

The former soldier gave an exasperated sigh, they seemed so eager to get back to this trial even though the verdict was already decided. He had sarcastically noted to himself that they had seemed to be taking a rather long time to announce his execution.

“Spencer? Did you hear me?” the security guard spoke more harshly, Spencer could tell that his hand had reached for the trigger of his gun.
The wind had picked up around them all of a sudden, a brief howling gust that went as quickly as it had come, blowing some of the piles of papers some of the officials had brought out with them right over the balcony of the courtyard and into the Osean skyline. The former President closed his eyes in and let the slow breeze rush past them. There wasn’t enough of that in prison, the forces of nature were so removed from his 7 by 7 foot prison cell that he was determined to savour every last second of it.

“I don’t know what it is, but it sounds like its giving the military ten kinds of hell” He didn’t bother disguise the wry smile on his face or the contempt he felt for his security guards, deliberately turning to face the lawyer that had asked him the question and letting the guard give his next order to his shoulder if he so pleased.

“Mr. Spencer I have to insist that-“

“Come on, we’re going back inside now. I want to get this over with” his gruff voice gave the order swiftly, overriding guard and reminding him that he was letting himself be ordered around by these men. Even though he was in no position to do anything to the contrary, it was nearly impossible to deny the sovereign quality that seemed to exude from the man. He had been married to the company for so long that it was no longer possible to separate the commanding authority from the man. It didn’t take long at his shuffling pace, for his team of security guards to assemble around him on all sides to escort him between the columns and through the large black doors at the front of the courthouse. The next few minutes were little more than a blur, as the crowd bustled through the stark marble white corridors into the large circular chamber that the high court had been using to conduct the trial and Spencer made his way to the raised seat in the very centre of the room. Facing the judges and with his back to the attorneys and witnesses that were filing into the rows behind him. It was most reminiscent of an amphitheatre; Spencer had thought drily, the high justices were on the stage looking down at him as he sat solitary in the orchestra pit, facing judgement from those all around him.

“Now, after that commotion, shall we resume where we left off?” the Chief Justice. The man sitting directly in front of him. Tradition dictated that judges in Artolia wore the hoods of their black ceremonial robes up, cloaking their masks in shadow. The whole building and farcical nature of this trial was so steeped in tradition it was past the point of absurdity, Spencer couldn’t help but think to himself. In any sane country he’d have been taken outside and gunned down by a firing squad in less than half an hour after the charges had been read. Instead the whole affair of bringing him to court, presenting evidence from what and who remained of his former company had taken five years. They already had enough evidence to give him the death penalty three or four times over already. The whole thing was a joke.

The cowl of the Chief Justice twitched, apparently impatient with the bored look on the accused’s face. “Does the accused have anything to say in their defence before we hear from your lawyer about that last charge”

Spencer let the silence linger just long enough to let them know it was a clear act of insubordination. “Nothing except to remind you all that this is getting rather tedious” he said tiredly whilst staring, apparently fascinated by a mole on the lower lip of the Chief Justice.

“One more snide remark Mr. Spencer and I will be forced to hold you in contempt of this court. Is that understood?” his voice was thin and raspy. Spencer kept his expression vacant and his eyes fixated at anywhere but the judges.

“Chief Justice Walther!” an urgent voice pierced the suffocating drawn-out silence.

“Yes, what is it now?” the Chief Justice asked impatiently. One interruption had already cost him nearly an hour of his day, and that was because it could have potentially been a threat. This distraction seemed to carry far less weight.

Even Jason had turned around to look at this latest development to this dull proceeding. The interruption was less than satisfying to say the least, another skinny man in a smart brown suit was hurrying down the central aisleway, descending to the centre and jogging past Spencer, who barely caught a glance at the man’s panicked expression and a large bulging folder underneath his arm. Something was up, and for the first time the events in the trial had snared his attention.

Whatever this new analyst had discovered was certainly something of ground-breaking importance for the trial. He exchanged a hushed and frantic series of whispers with the Chief Justice, pointing erratically and flicking through dozens of pages in the enormous document. The hood obscured the reaction of the judge, but Spencer was a good enough judge of people to tell that the man deciding his fate was torn somewhere between shock and disbelief.

“Tell me, if you would Mr. Spencer” the new arrival hurried to the side and out of the eyeline of the two men. “About the nature of the Destrillian Project” his voice was grave and hollow, as though he was still coming to terms with the nature of the information he had just read.

A wide grin crept over Spencer’s face as he looked at the panel of five judges facing him, each one taking it in turns to read various documents from the extensive file. As far as the final nail in his coffin went, the Destrillian project would certainly prove to be a lively and interesting end to the trial. Although with the information he was about to impart to them, he was sure whatever slim chance he would have had of leaving the trial without the death penalty would depart for good.

So be it.

“What would you like to know?”
he asked, not hiding the bold confidence in his voice.

It always came down to Destrillians after all.
__________________

Last edited by Alex; 02/05/2010 at 11:35 AM.
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Old 02/09/2010   #29
NoenGaruth
Default

Darkness.....nothing but darkness as far as one could see....
This place....what is this? Where am I? Who am I? These are questions I am unable to answer....
It seems like this darkness goes on forever.....I feel so alone, and yet.....it also feels so crowded here... but still, I see no one....not a thing....except darkness... Is there no one out there? Can no one hear me? Please someone answer me....

I can hear you.

The figure in the darkness searched around in confusion, seeking for the source of the voice. They called out again into the great expanse.
What is this? Who is this? Is somebody there?

Suddenly, they saw a light appear, the light shone brightly and looked so warm and safe. Reaching out in the darkness towards the light, they addressed the light.
Hello? Can you help me? I'm so scared and confused, this place is cold, I don't want to be here anymore.....can you take me away from here? Please....

There was a short pause, then the light fluctuated and replied.
Of course I can, It's very simple actually. All you have to do is take my hand, here. A glowing white hand extended from the light and reached for the figure, beckoning for them to take it.

The figure then began to start raising their arm up to the glowing figure, this is where hope would be felt if one could feel anything but coldness here, soon they would be safe.....safe....safe? Wait, something wasn't right here, something just suddenly felt wrong about the whole thing.....why was it that out of the blue suddenly this light appears offering salvation and everything the figure was seeking, it just didn't add up. So the figure stopped and withdrew their hand.

The light seemed angered by this action due to the way it suddenly glowed brighter.
Why did you stop? Do you not want to be saved from this eternal void of darkness? This emptiness? This everlasting coldness?

The figure was at a loss of words, they just had this sudden stabbing feeling that the light was bad and they must stay away from it.
I....I can't. You offer salvation but I can sense something else behind you motive, I don't know what it is but every fiber of my being is telling me to not go with you.

The light paused for a moment, as though contemplating the figure's words, then replied.
I see...then I guess I'm going to have to do this the hard way....

And with those words the light disappeared, and once again there was nothing. Was it gone now? Were they safe?

WRONG.
A voice boomed so loud it felt as though it was piercing the figure's very soul. Then a rumbling sound could be heard, slowly getting louder and louder. The figure looked around desperately for an answer to what was happening, and then it appeared.

Out of the darkness suddenly a massive eye began to open, it seemed to be greater than any mountain or building, but then again, size was of no meaning here in the darkness. The figure had an instinct to tremble in fear, but alas, that was another thing they were incapable of doing here.

Once the eye had fully opened, the figure could see all sorts of intricate patterns in the eye, however the eyeball itself was a blank white, but nevertheless they still felt like it was looking right at them. Then a voice emitted from the eye...more like....many voices, so many you couldn't distinguish any, all talking at once.

You were foolish you think you had a choice here to begin with. What I desire is all that matters, what I desire is all that will happen. You will comply since you have no other option but to submit to my will.


No! I won't! I don't know how I'll do it but I'll resist you no matter what!




The eye seemed almost amused, and laughed at the tiny figure before it.

HOHOHO! And what can a little speck like you possibly do? You don't even know who you are, let alone what I am or of the immense power I possess here. No....you can do nothing. And now I tire of your insignificant defiance....Prepare to become part of me.

The white eyeball then proceeded to slowly spin around, revealing a ying-yang symbol, and now began to descend towards the tiny figure who desperately tried to scramble away, yet could not, no matter how hard they tried they could not escape from it, and the eye began to close around them.

STOP! PLEASE! LEAVE ME ALONE! I DON'T WANT TO BE PART OF YOU!

However their pleas went unheard, and the eye completely closed around them, and they were now surrounded by crimson, almost as if this new place was nothing but blood. The figure could feel everything now, and the one thing that stood out from everything else was absolute terror, not a fear of death, no something far, far worse. It now felt as though danger was everywhere here, and so the figure was turning in every direction, waiting for whatever would appear.....and then they were confronted face to face with another figure, which was shrouded in shadow, except for one thing - bright glowing red eyes. But then something else also stood out, the body shape of the shadow in front of them, causing the figure to say...

A girl?

The Shadow then grabbed the figure by the throat, and sharply grinned.

You're mine.
__________________



Hey who wants to come home with me?!
Ok that wasn't very smart but totally worth it!

Last edited by NoenGaruth; 02/09/2010 at 11:20 PM.
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Old 02/11/2010   #30
Tennyo
Default

The high pitched squeaking of rubber boots on tile could be heard echoing through the lobby as Emma entered the doors and made her way over to the elevator, a trail of tiny puddles forming in her wake. It was an old building she lived in; a relic of a richer time in which the neighborhood had been much better off. However nowadays everything around the area had begun to fall into disrepair, as was evident in the cracked plaster on the walls and ceiling and the, “Out of Order,” sign that was taped to the elevator door. The young redhead frowned and entered the stairwell.

An old rusty metal door creaked loudly as she entered the stairwell, her footsteps echoing off the concrete walls as she made her way up the two flights of stairs it took to get to her and Terra’s apartment. The muffled bass of a stereo could be heard from another apartment somewhere down the hallway as she opened the door for the second floor and entered. The carpeting in the hallway was light blue and dirty, the occasional stain of someone’s spilled drink proceeding Emma as she walked the few feet to her home.

Upon entering the apartment Emma quickly shut the door and leaned against it, heaving a large sigh as she was glad her day was finally over. Very groggily she removed her yellow raincoat and hung it up on a hook on the wall to dry. She also carefully unwrapped the floral print scarf she had wrapped around her head to keep her hair from becoming frizzy and out of control in the rain.

As she kicked off her galoshes and set her nicer shoes she wore while she worked at the floral shop in the front closet she looked off in the direction of Terra’s room and frowned; the earth Destrillian wasn’t home yet. This had Emma worried, however she didn’t want to automatically jump to conclusions right away. For all she knew it could be nothing. It wouldn’t be the first time she got worked up over Terra for no reason.

There was a light flashing on the beat up, practically antique answering machine Emma had found at a thrift store, indicating a new message. She pressed play and smiled at what she heard. “Hey, Beautiful! It’s Chris. Ring me back!”

This had been something that Emma discovered about herself in the four years since the escape from Viola that she had never expected; guys seemed to like her. First there was a guy named Gary who randomly came up and started talking to her while she and Terra waited on platform for a train a while back when they were still homeless. He then proceeded to follow them on and sit near them, continuing to talk. Emma didn’t realize at first that the man was flirting since it had never happened to her before, and she didn’t quite know how to respond. However a few stops down she spotted a ticket inspector on the platform as the train came to a stop, so she had to excuse herself and quickly escort Terra off the train.

When Emma had gotten her new identity as Christina and started to work at the fast food restaurant she met Robert, a slightly chubby man in his late twenties who liked to be called, “Crazy Uncle Bob.” He whistled the very first time she was introduced to the staff by their manager. It seemed that Uncle Bob liked all pretty girls, and often liked to comment on the posterior of one of their coworkers.

Now she wasn’t an expert on the matter, yet somehow Emma knew that you just didn’t say such things to girls. When Emma discreetly asked her coworker, whose name was Riese, about it later the girl just smiled and said, “Oh Chrissy, you’re so cute and innocent.”

Her words took Emma a bit by surprise. Considering the fact that the Destrillian could probably kill them all in an instant without even having to use her powers had always made Emma feel as far away from innocent as was possible to get. Yet maybe there was some truth to the idea. Years of being locked up in Viola had left Emma without much knowledge of the intricate workings of a more mundane existence. To the average person she must appear to be like a child. It was an odd idea to get used to, but Emma decided to run with it. Who would ever suspect humble, innocent Christina to be an escaped super-human weapon on the run from the government?

It was during this period that the young redhead and her now-brunette charge, for Emma had helped Terra dye her green hair brown, were living at the motel. It was a very unpleasant experience for the most part, not because she hated the room or because she hated helping out around the place, but because different people were coming and going all the time, and their emotions were really having a negative effect on how Emma was able to sleep. One night in particular Emma found herself awoken so harshly that she cried out in surprise. Terra had woken up at the sound and was staring at her, but Emma just sat in her small bed and said nothing, simply twisting her hands together as she tried to make sense of the intense rush she was feeling from the couple in the room next to them. It made her think back to a long conversation she had once had with Natasha about men and women and some of the finer points that marked a relationship between them.

Emma was about to get a harsh lesson in reality, however. As she went on working at the restaurant there was one customer in particular who liked to come in a few times a week. His name was Sammi and he had dark hair, tanned skin, and a highly charismatic demeanor. He was probably the first person Emma ever felt attracted to in her life, and it made her feel excited. He always made a point of going through Emma’s line and, if there wasn’t anyone waiting behind him, he liked to chat her up. Of course Emma decided that this was probably what real life was like and so she did her best to try to show her interest in a subtle manner. Eventually Sammi asked her out and she said yes.

The two went on a simple date of dinner and a movie at first, hanging out a bit outside of the restaurant and generally just getting to know each other. After around a month had gone by they were alone in Sammi’s apartment when his emotional state suddenly reminded Emma of the couple in the room adjacent to her’s at the motel. One thing led to another and the girl let it happen, at first thinking this was the most wonderful thing that could have ever happened to her, then later no longer feeling quite so sure. Afterwards Sammi seemed a little different, and for the first time in years she couldn’t read the emotions of the person she was with; his life energy pulsating in a way she had never felt before.

The next few weeks brought the answer to her puzzlement like a slap in the face. Sammi stopped coming into the restaurant and never answered his phone when the young redhead called. She asked Riese one night after work and the human just sighed. “Chrissy, hun, I think you just got dumped,” was what she said. However she agreed to accompany Emma to a place where they knew he would probably be with his friends, and sure enough they found him.

Upon confronting him about his actions all Sammi could do was smile and say, “You just turned out to not be my type is all.” He then laughed, as did his friends, and Emma kneed him in the crotch. As he was doubled over in pain the Destrillian brought her fist to his head in an uppercut and knocked him backwards: it was all she could do to keep herself from unleashing her full potential on him.

“You couldn’t tell me to my face? You had to run away and hide? You are a fucking coward!” she screamed, glaring down at his shocked face. Emma did not swear much, in fact she had no memory of ever saying anything so foul in her life, but at that moment it felt better than the last night she had spent with the creep. The red head quickly turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving both Sammi and his friends staring in shock.

Riese, however, could hardly contain her laughter. “Wow, Sammi, you are such a pussy,” she said before leaving.

Not long after this Emma got the job at the floral shop and her and Terra were able to move out of the hotel and into their current apartment. Emma stayed on at the restaurant on weekends, and her and Riese still talked and sometimes hung out. In fact it was this new found friend that encouraged the Destrillian to not let the Sammi escapade ruin her outlook on men. Sure there were plenty of assholes, but there were also a few great guys, too.

One such “great guy” turned out to be Christopher Nolan, the grandson of the woman who owned the flower shop. He was working there delivering orders to customers as he went to college on the other side of town. Obviously under the impression that Emma’s alias was her true name, he only ever called her, “Tina,” or, “Beautiful,” claiming that to call her anything else would be too much like his own name, and hence slightly creepy. The energy he gave off reminded her a bit of what Sammi was like when he first started flirting with her at the restaurant. This feeling made Emma feel cautious, and she fought hard to feign disinterest. A good three months went by until one day she found herself trapped between the delivery van and Chris as the young man chatted away happily to her about a TV show they both liked to watch. As Emma quickly excuse herself Chris called out to her.

“Hey Tina, you doing anything tonight?”

“Well, I have to cook dinner for my sister and I and also do some laundry, so, yeah, I guess so.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“Uh… I guess I don’t know. I haven’t planned that far ahead. Why?” of course Emma knew why, but maybe if she feigned ignorance it would somehow make the situation less awkward.

“We should hang out. Or, more like go out,” he replied.

Oh crap it’s not working….


“Well, we hang out at work, don’t we?”

What kind of question is that, Emma? Geez…


“I mean like, a date. You know, dinner, a movie if you want to be predictable. Or something else if you want to be adventurous?”

Emma couldn’t help but laugh at that last comment. “Adventurous?”

“Yeah, how about it?”

The girl diverted her blue eyes as she felt herself blush. She wanted so badly for this to not be happening, yet she couldn’t deny the flattery. “I’ll look into it and let you know at work tomorrow if I’m free.”

“Not what I was hoping for but I’ll take it,”
he said, climbing into the van. “See ya tomorrow.”

That night Emma called Riese and told her what happened. Riese told her she would be an idiot if she said no, so Emma decided to give this guy a try and see if he was any better than the last.

As it turned out, Christopher was much better than Sammi. He was very kind, and told some fairly lame jokes. It was rather endearing, actually. She was loathe to admit it, but Emma was actually having fun. At the end of the night he gave her a gentle kiss outside of her apartment building, then wished her goodnight. So far so good, but Emma didn’t want to get her hopes up.

That first date with Chris led to many others, and it was now almost two years later and they were still together. Chris finished college and now worked a real job, but he remained in the city and still helped out his grandmother every once in a while. Most of all, though, he still saw Emma whenever he had the chance.

The Destrillian smiled to herself as she set a pot of water on the stove. When it had come to a boil she poured it into a white mug with a half rubbed-off image of some cartoon character on the outside and steeped a bag of tea in it. After taking a small carrot out of the fridge she walked over to cage that sat on an old table and peered inside. A fluffy albino mouse, bigger than most but still a tiny creature, blinked up at her with red eyes, his nose twitching.

“Hey there, Squeak! Have a nice day?” The girl stuck her hand into the cage and picked the mouse up. She then set him on her shoulder where he happily perched without question.

Squeak, as he was so affectionately called, was one of the mice from the Viola basement facility. Emma had ducked into the room where they were kept with a couple of her peers to gather supplies. The sight of her little loves made her heart ache at the thought of leaving them all behind, but what was she to do? She couldn’t escape with them all, nor did she even know how she would care for them. They would die if they went with her, yet at the same time she knew they would die if she left them. Either way there was no choice; it was just a harsh reality.

However there was one mouse that was different than the others. One that Emma had raised herself per Natasha’s instruction. Emma thought it was a fun project, but in reality it had been a small, secret experiment that not even Dr. Thomas knew about. The mouse grew larger than average and seemed to respond to Emma much in the way that a dog would its master. It was quite the interesting occurrence. Emma decided that if she could just save one or her mice, it would be little Squeak since she knew he would be intelligent enough to go along with it.

Upon her recollection, the Destillian then sat down on the couch with her mouse on her shoulder and gave him a carrot, then turned on the TV, and picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey Chris, it’s me.”

“Hey Beautiful, what’s up?”

“Just got home from work, you called?”

“Yeah! Remember that concert you wanted to go to tonight?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“A buddy of mine has tickets but he can’t go anymore ‘cause he’s sick. He says he’ll give ‘em to me for only half of what he paid for. Wanna go?”

Emma jumped up and practically squealed with delight, causing the rodent on her shoulder to drop the last bits of his carrot and squeak indignantly, but Emma paid him no minde. “You kidding? Of course I want to go!”

“Tickets are in the nosebleed section but beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

“Nah, that’s okay, at least we’ll…” she suddenly found the words had been cut out as a terrible surge of energy washed over her. Someone had died. No, many people had just died all at once. Emma let down her barricade she had built up around her and to her horror she could feel, off in the distance somewhere in the city, an immense amount of power being used. Destrillian power.

It was then that Emma noticed what was being shown on the TV. The news had interrupted with a special bulletin about a possible terrorist attack in the city.

“Tina?”

“Chris, turn on channel five.”

A minute went by, and then, “Whoa, what’s going on?”

“That’s…that’s not far from where Terra works,” she whispered, mostly only to herself.

“Terra? Who’s Terra?”

“Chris I got to go.”

“What? Hey, Tina, you okay?”

“I don’t think I’m going to make the concert tonight. But you can find someone else to go with you.”

“Wait a minute, why the sudden change?”

“Chris, Ter…Tabitha isn’t home yet, and this is happening near where she works.”

“Seriously? Well wait there! I’m coming over!”

“No, Chris, don’t come over. I’ll call you later.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Bye Chris.”

“Tina wait a se…” Emma didn’t hear the end of his sentence as she quickly hung up the phone.

Without even turning off the TV or putting her tea away, Emma jumped up from the couch. She hurriedly put on her rain coat, slung a duffle bag she kept for emergencies over her shoulder, jumped into her galoshes, and ran out the door, little Squeak hanging on for dear life, as she ran.
__________________

Last edited by Tennyo; 02/17/2010 at 10:11 PM.
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