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Post by Salandis on Jul 13, 2017 2:56:32 GMT -6
[OOC: Raine attacks. Because of course he does. He also rolled a freaking 20.]
Raine lifted his hands, spreading them out and crouching as if to get on the floor. He did, but sighed internally. Air was such a sloppy medium to work through. At least he was alone, and had no one but enemies around him. That counted for much, given what he was about to do.
As he crouched, he… relaxed. He had never been able to define exactly what he was relaxing or tensing, but it was all the control he had ever figured out. Or needed. And so as he relaxed, the air around him abruptly became colder. Much colder. In less than a breath of time, it was below freezing: In under a second, it was colder than any Siberian temperature recorded... and kept dropping.
As the temperature plummeted, he went from a crouch to a launch, twisting and reaching for the man holding the rifle, his eyes full of murder. Caught off guard, the man didn’t even get to bring his weapon up to block; Raines hands fastened around his throat, momentum carrying him forward into the now empty lift. The guard was dead before Raine hit the floor, his body an icy husk - but his companions were quicker. Gunshots rang down the hall as they fired on the twisting Irishman. He whirled around the lift door, punching the button for the next floor down and flattening himself against the button panel inside for cover. A stinging sensation and warmth on his left arm told him those pistols were powerful enough... but only one of them now had a line of sight and the doors were closing. He had a feeling the two guards would not be so anxious to follow him in… and in such close quarters, it would be their death if they did.
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Post by Pearl Dragon on Jul 13, 2017 9:46:39 GMT -6
[[OOC- Bruse approaches the larger cell to try and make contact with whatever is inside.]]
The area in which Bruse now ventured, following the sounds of what he could only assume were either facility employees or....something else, he found that the hallways began to branch out into what appeared to be containment cells.
Although Bruse was unfamiliar with the workings of human containment units, the area reminded him very much of the maze-like network of tunnels and chambers from the Underground Vaults of Edinburgh he used to reside in so many years ago. Except, this place was much cleaner, and instead of cold, stone chambers, there were thick reinforced metal doors with barely the tiniest windows from which to view inside, and even some of those seemed to be blocked from view. Above each cell was a light, red or green. This human concept, Bruse DID undertand, after all it was commonly used in the basic trafficking of human transportation. Red means stop, green means go. With these, he came to the assumption that red meant no, and green meant yes. Inhabited versus uninhabited perhaps?
As he made his way past the many cell doors, he would occasionaly glance inside, seeing all manner of things locked up inside. And, as he'd suspected, all of the red-lit doors held nothing, or their interiors were not at all visible, while the green-lit doors did in fact house some manner of creature, some physical, and some not so much to Bruse's amazement. The condition of their holding cells was minimal at best, barely enough for them to survive, most with nothing but a bed and a small metal latrine for waste. Bruse, keeping to the shadows of the metaphysical realm, continued on, pity quickly rising within him for the inhabitants of the cells, and he found that he began to worry that perhaps Marchelute might be among them somewhere. But where? The more inmates Bruse found, with some even seeming to see him as well (were some of them like him???), the more he wished there was some way he could release them.
Finally, a single open cell caught Bruse's attention, and he leapt forward in silent, floating bounds until he was standing at the cell's threshold looking inside. The light above was flashing green, much unlike all the others that were simply on, and the interior walls were decorated with a vast array of claw and scorch marks. Empty for now, although still actively occupied by something.
Marchelute...
Bruse was about to venture further into the cell to try and find more clues when suddenly a force struck him in the side before wrapping itself around him in a vice-like pressured grip, feeling much like a giant invisible hand that had a hold of him. Bruse tried to pull away, but was held firm, hooves and paws kicking and pushing uselessly at the force until suddenly a concsiousness filled his mind, brushing against his thoughts with sudden visions and emotions of despair, isolation, and loneliness. Bruse ceased slightly in his struggle, meeting the concsiousness with his own confused and startled thoughts until finally he felt the pressure on his form disappear. In an instant, Bruse resettled to the ground, poised and staring at a distant cell that he KNEW was the source of the other's mind. The cell was enormous, much larger than the other cells, and through the small pane of glass, he thought he could see something shifting and flickering within.
Cautiously, Bruse hovered closer, reaching out now with his own mind to the cell's occupant, relaying images and questions of his own, mostly structured as picturesque visions and thought-emotions. Images of the burnt, clawed cell, images of the facility's interior that Bruse had seen so far, this thing's own cell door, the dark hallways, where were they, who did this, who are you, and why are all these beings here. Concern, worry, pity, and a desire to help. Followed by a strong memory image of Marchelute laced with the same emotions and desires. By now, Bruse was standing outside of the cell door, peering inside and reaching for the metal surface with a single paw as if to pass through and make contact. It was begging for help, and in a way, so was he. Help me help you...
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Post by tsukikoko on Jul 14, 2017 13:42:54 GMT -6
[OOC: Viktoria has a hostage, huzzah! She calls for Sarkany and pins the man to the floor so he can be interrogated should the seraph come join her.]
Viktoria had almost decided that the floor was thankfully empty of potential guards or employees who might do something stupid to give the group away. Something like screaming. Humans had an unhelpful habit of screaming. Until, that was, she came to a door with a thin stream of light pooling out from beneath. Either someone had forgotten to turn off the light, or there was going to be someone inside. The large feline paused with her hand hovering above the door handle, her ears alert for any sounds of booted footfalls or the rasping of shifting fabric from clothing. When she decided to move, there was no hesitation.
The door swung open and wide with barely a creak. Instantly she spotted her target - a man sat at his desk who lacked the common sense to even look up as she entered - and covered the distance of the room in a few lengthy strides. Since the man hadn't bothered to glance up, Viktoria had enough time to place her handgun atop one of the pieces of furniture as she moved. She wanted both hands free for this. "Don't any of you night-shift pricks know how to knock-" Her hands were upon him before the man had even finished his sentence. In a frighteningly rapid, practiced movement, Viktoria dragged the man from his chair, clamped her large hand over his face to turn what would have been a scream into a muffled whimper and slammed his body to the floor shoulder first. She wasted no time shifting her knee to his back; most of her weight pressed against the hand on his shoulder, but enough pressed against his spine that he would be wise not to struggle, lest she cause an... unfortunate breakage. As the sounds of pleading came from beneath her hand, Viktoria's claws slowly began to unsheathe themselves, pressing against the man's skin.
Fairly sure she had the man well pinned, Viktoria raised her head slightly and barked out Sarkany's name in his own snarling, animalistic language. She wanted the seraph here to interrogate this man, to glean information about Marchelute from him. While she was perfectly capable of such a task - especially with the boiling anger inside her, burning and swirling inside her chest as she thought about what these people could be doing to Marchelute - having someone with a better grasp of English would be helpful; not to mention she had a feeling her friend had plenty of tricks up his sleeve for making someone tell the truth. A moment later the bristling humanoid returned her attention to the human pinned beneath her. As close as she was, the large feline could hear her captive's heart thundering in his chest, could smell the rank fear sweat leaking from his skin. Good. She wanted him to be afraid.
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Post by MP on Jul 15, 2017 0:57:28 GMT -6
[Sarkany activates mega creep mode and attempts to intimidate Marche information from Vik's hostage. If this fails, he will attempt to use commands.]
As his eyes flickered over the tabs and video feeds, memorizing rotations and logins and locations, Sarkany's mouth slanted gradually into a thin, hard line. Tombs and cages and guns, all condensed to neat little numbers on a page. The man tapped carefully at the monitors. Returned each tab and setting to where he'd found it. He had just begun to wipe the keyboard clean with the edge of his sleeve when he heard a sudden thunderous growl: his own call.
He turned at once to follow the sound, reaching the doorway in moments. Yellow eyes briefly swept the scene - the pleading man beneath the bristling feline - understanding. And then he smiled. Sarkany came forward with languid steps to kneel by the man's head, flat eyes appraising him for a long moment.
"Easy with the claws," he said to the feline, his voice the indifferent tones of a person observing a shoe shining. "You know I don't like it tenderized."
He reached out and angled the man's head this way and that, testing the soft skin beneath the jaw. The gently pulsing jugular. "Hmm," he said. And then he grinned, the expression razor sharp. The illusion still drifted faintly over his features. He wondered what the man must see.
"Well, my friend," he announced. "You've caught us at a lucky time. You see, we're looking for one mountain devil." He tapped a nail against his dagger teeth in thought. "And I guess a snack. Whichever comes first. But yes - the devil: big fellow; black scales, bat wings, taste for human flesh. Hard to miss."
He allowed the description to sink in for a moment. Over the man's head, he cast the feline a glance. [You're very hungry,] he informed her in the snarling hunter's speech. To the man:
"Now, we'd planned to eat before picking the glutton up, but I'll be honest: you're tough, you're grisly, you're - through no fault of your own, I'm sure - appallingly high in cholesterol. I think we can do better. So. An offer."
He leaned forward, tone and scleras darkening with a very real impatience. The predator was clear behind his features now - a shadow of black-rimmed eyes and teeth and cold, reptilian hunger as he repressed the change.
"Tell us what you know - where we'll find him and in what condition - and we will refrain from pulling out your liver and eating it while you watch. Otherwise - "
Otherwise he may have to resort to commands - an unappealing prospect when he was trying to conserve energy, and an unreliable one. The effect differed from person to person, and there was no guarantee it would turn up the desired result.
"- well, it's pretty empty here tonight. Can't afford to be picky." He looked up again at the feline. "I think under the ribs this time."
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Post by kilnarak on Jul 18, 2017 23:58:59 GMT -6
[ Taconin tells Raine about The Lady, and then continues along the B1 hall. Ari steals some info, then attempts to shank one of the guards who have Raine cornered. ]
Taconin was aware of Raine moving behind him, following him through the hall. He kept a tendril of thought in contact with the man - not trying to pry, not really, it was just to communicate more quickly, more easily. His focus wasn't on Raine, however, but rather on the senses he used to survey his surroundings. The shadow demon slipped fluidly down the stairwell, then paused, casting out for nearby presences. And he found one, only one, not so far away. He pooled in a shadow near the landing, against a wall, his attention focusing on that presence, trying to read what he could of it without giving himself away.
There were noises as well, the sound of voices, but he paid those no more mind than he would the lapping sound of running water. Hearing was all well and good, but he found it less reliable than his other sense - voices could be on a radio or on a television, whereas a mind (usually) would only be found in a body. And he felt a mind and its body approaching - felt and heard - and held himself still as the researcher approach.
She didn't even glance at him, her coat swishing past him close enough to touch. He didn't touch. Once she had swept past, he stepped out into the hall, glanced back the way she had gone, then began to pad down the way she had come from, alert for any other presences. The bright lights made his hide twitch - they weren't painful, but they were a little uncomfortable - and he turned a sliver of his attention to keeping watch for darker areas where he might more easily hide, should he need to.
As he continued on, he reached back distractedly toward the others. Raine's thoughts were... odd. Not necessarily agitated, but not what they had been before. He didn't try to read into them any deeper than that, merely apprised the man of what he had seen - the woman on the floor below in her white coat with her stack of papers, the doorway she had disappeared into and that he had gone the other way.
---
Ari had found what he wanted: lists of names and ID numbers, things he could use to track the people responsible. He removed the sheets of paper from the clipboard, folded them up small, then stuffed them in one of his pockets. Was there anything else here he could use? A quick glance turned up nothing - perhaps Sarkany would have more luck with the computers.
He began to turn toward the seraph to ask if he needed any help when noises made him flinch - a loud snarling from the direction Viktoria had gone, and raised voices from down the hall where Raine and Taconin had gone. He froze a moment, saw Sarkany already moving, rushing toward that odd snarl. That left the raised voices to him. A spike of fear went through him, but that anger was still there. He cautiously made his way down the hall.
He felt the temperature change before he saw the guards or Raine and wondered if Bruse had returned, but it only got colder and colder, colder by far than anything he had felt from the spirit before. Then gunshots rang out and once again Ari froze, his hair standing on end. He was moving again before he had quite decided what to do, before the fear subsided and anything rational took its place.
The temperature had dropped low enough that he had begun to shiver by the time he saw the two armed men facing the elevator, guns drawn and leveled at the closing doors. He wasn't sure, not really, who or what was in the elevator but... The keys to a spell were already on his lips, whispered before he thought about what he was doing. Blurring his form, softening his footfalls. The dagger Raine had given him was in his hand - a hand dusted in dark fur with fingers bent in the beginnings of claws - and he crept silently upon the closer of the two forms, shifting his grip on the dagger as he neared. The men weren't paying any attention to him, their focus on the elevator and whatever was within it, it would be easy to take one of them, at least...
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Post by Marshmallow on Jul 26, 2017 10:29:30 GMT -6
[This one is a doozy folks, a lot is happening. Which is good! But also it's a lot to take in, and some details might be muddled even after fixes and rewrites. Feel free to ask questions in chat if something doesn't make sense. <3 ] - - - - -
This Round...
Viktoria and Sarkany chose to put their intimidation skills to use for interrogating the night-shift worker that Viktoria had stumbled upon...
It was an easy thing to frighten the man into submission. He stared, wide-eyed and trembling, at the two vicious monsters that had him pinned to the tile. It was a small wonder that he didn't simply pass out from sheer terror. He was a civilian, not a soldier. Demands were leveled at him, on penalty of death if he did not comply. He could not fathom how these demons had made it inside, but he desperately did not want to disappoint them. He nodded quickly.
"O-Okay! Okay! I'll t-tell you anything! J-Just please, please don't kill me!" the man stammered. There were tears in his eyes. His mind raced. "Th- The Mountain Devil? Wh.." On second thought, best not to ask them what they want the specimen for. He swallowed hard.
"That one is, uh.. Thirty-- er, D-Doctor Hahn's subject. It's, ah.. D-Downstairs? C-Containment is two levels down. B-But I think there were, er... t-tests scheduled tonight..."
With one badly shaking hand, the man pointed at his desk. "S-Subject IDs, cell block location, labs - all on my desk! M-Mountain Devil, right? It's on the right, I w-was just reviewing it! Just.. Just take it, that's all the information I have!"
The surface of the desk was in disarray. Viktoria's attack had caused the man to drop the folder he had been studying, scattering photos and papers. But the folder itself, and all associated reports, were clearly tagged: Subject-0927, Codename "Atar". The reports were outlining various tests that had been done, and some yet scheduled. The photos appeared to be various shots of different parts of Marchelute's rune brand, some scribbled with haphazard notes on potential origin languages.
Partially covered by one of the fallen photos, and tagged with the same ID as the folder, was a modestly sized plexiglass box. A faint green glow emanated from within. The source appeared to be the softly smoldering runic markings etched into the side of a very familiar curved, black horn.
Raine, rather than comply with demands, chose to attack the trio of guards as they stepped off the lift...
The sudden lunge took all three guards by surprise, almost as much as the sub-arctic drop in temperature. The man with the rifle had no chance, he was dead before Raine his the floor of the elevator. His two compatriots spun and fired in the same instant. The report of gunfire echoed harshly in the otherwise silent halls. Between the rapid motion and the cold shock, some of their shots were wild, striking the sliding elevator doors and interior walls. One bullet struck Raine's left arm.
Before the guards could take another shot, the elevator doors shut and the lift began to descend. Neither had been willing to risk close quarters with the anomalous stranger. They spun for the stairs, one man reaching for his radio. But they were suddenly interrupted...
Ari was creeping down the corridor toward the sound of raised voices. Hearing gunshots, seeing the armed men, he cloaked himself with magic and drew his dagger...
With magic to muffle his movements and hide his shape, Ari was unnoticed in his approach. The guards were distracted, already starting to move to intercept the intruder. The closest had his back turned, was busy fumbling with his radio. The intense cold had him shaking, he could barely grip the thing.
The dagger, crafted of elfshot, knew where to strike. All Ari needed to do was attack, and the blade did the rest, angling itself to deal the greatest damage. He struck, and the guard dropped his radio with a pained cry as the dagger sank into his back. The enchanted blade slipped easily between the disks of the man's spine. His legs went out from under him and he fell, bleeding and crippled, to the floor.
The last guard standing pulled up short before reaching the stairs. He whipped around at the sound of his colleague's cry and brought his pistol to bear on his assailant. Cold shock and confusion affected his aim. The first bullet missed, pelting the wall harmlessly. The second bullet buried itself in the shifter's left leg, above the knee.
Taconin chose to explore the hallway in the direction the woman had come from, moving closer to the source of the distant voices...
The hallway that stretched out before the little demon was well-lit, but empty. Doors were spaced along the wall to his right and left, all closed and presumably locked. Light shone under a few of the doors, but his telepathic net found no minds hiding behind them. The corridor terminated up ahead with no signs of life, but another hallway branched away to the left. Ahead, about half the hall's length away, two more white-coated doctors stood engaged in idle conversation. Neither seemed to immediately notice the slinking shadow, but the closest doors were just behind them. Taconin's telepathy picked up on more minds in this direction as he crept from shadow to shadow. But finally, a ray of hope. One of them, a consciousness that was inert, perhaps asleep, belonged to the target of their rescue: Marchelute was here. Somewhere ahead, tucked away in one of the labs.
Gunshots echoed suddenly from the floor above, bringing an abrupt halt to the chat in the hallway. The two doctors glanced up in alarm. A third darted out of the left door. He looked... strange. He was thin and wiry beneath his coat, and had one too many arms for a human. A thin tail curled in his wake. Three pairs of eyes turned in the direction of the sound - in the direction of Taconin. The reaction was immediate. The two 'normal' doctors recoiled, uncertain. The strange one simply stared, one eye burning a bright blue.
"Containment breach?" one of the others suggested hesitantly.
"... Nein. Zat von ist new. Infiltration," the strange doctor corrected. Abruptly he spun on the other two, barking orders. "Alert zee soldiers, sound zee alarm! You, return zee subjekt to Containment! Vee cannot risk--"
As if on cue, a horrible bellow erupted from the laboratory. A sound of equal parts rage and agony shook the corridor, and jolted the two other doctors into motion.
Bruse approached the massive chamber and attempted to make contact with its occupant...
The cell Bruse found himself outside of was big, easily the largest on the entire floor. It had multiple viewports, flat screens rather than true windows. Each looked in on a chamber that was... decidedly unique among its fellows.
Rather than the generic box shape of the other prison cells, the space shown on the screens was spherical. Not just a rounded room, but a true sphere. Perfectly smooth, perfectly round in all dimensions, and huge. Whatever the construction was made of, the entirety of the chamber interior looked smooth and seamless. There was no furniture of any kind. No objects, no vents, not even signs of a door. Other screens displayed camera views of the space in between the inner and outer walls. What manner of security system needed to see between walls? A diagram to the side of the view screens shed some light on the bizarre chamber: It was a complex multi-layered system; a sphere inside a sphere inside a box.
Just what was being hidden in here?
Movement passed by the screens again. A flickering shape that rolled and twisted approached one of the camera lenses. Several screens showed it from multiple angles, yet somehow they all seemed to be capturing a different creature. It's shape varied with each passing moment, with every subtle flick or twist. It was like watching a living kaleidoscope. Shapes and colors twisted in and out of existence, like it was not fully part of this reality. In one moment it was nebulous, amorphous; in another, all jagged shapes and hard lines. The space around it seemed to warp and bend, fracturing as it moved, as if swimming through shards of glass that simply knit back into proper space and time once it had passed by. It was as though reality itself rejected its impossible geometry with a violent hatred.
To the spirit, capable of perceiving more than the mortal eye, it was even more than that. After-images ghosted behind its ever-shifting physical form, giving insight to its true shape. At least, what the Earth-bound ghost was capable of perceiving.
A long and sinuous body at least Bruse's own size. Twisting, gnarled limbs of a number that couldn't be reliably counted, all of which bent at impossible angles, and numerous writhing tendrils. But the ghostly outline was blurry, at best. Even for a spirit, what Bruse was capable of perceiving about the creature was limited. Could that be a head, or a tail, or another limb? Even the colors of its body seemed to change every time his gaze refocused, as though the very pigment of its skin did not exist in any visible spectrum.
What might have been the creature's head leaned close to the camera lens. Several of its thin, twisting limbs reached out to steady its floating form. The very wall of the sphere seemed abruptly to glow. Some supernatural force was at work, preventing the entity from making full contact with the surface. A high, keening whine echoed forth.
The creature's consciousness impressed itself upon Bruse once more. With it came a flurry of images in rapid succession. People in white coats, people with weapons, a strange twisted man with a glowing blue eye. Images of strange machines and tools, of rooms and banks of computers, and torturous experiments. Creatures great and small being imprisoned in the array of chambers around them. The emotions that accompanied the flood were equal parts confusion and seething hatred. It did not know who these people were, but it was clear that the creature loathed them.
More images came, answers to Bruse's questions. First the creature showed Bruse itself - a twisted kaleidoscope of impossible dimensions - and then multiplied the image. Tens. Hundreds. Thousands of identical creatures. Somewhere far away, in a place as fragmented and strange as the being itself. It did not quite speak in words, but the impression of its feelings, of its longing, spoke volumes. It was not a single being, but one of many. It was cut off, alone, from its ... Pack? Family? Collective?
Swarm. Hive.
Another image overlayed the swarm. A hulking shadow, immense and dark and foreboding, with numerous eyes that shone like pools of liquid gold. A feeling of terror, devotion and awe accompanied the images.
Master.
It so dearly wanted to - needed to - return to its Master.
Fresh images were fed into the ghost's mind. This time, it showed him a familiar shape. A humanoid form with black scales and powerful wings - Marchelute. Images of the demon being bound in straps and chains, forced to the floor in screaming agony by the men in white coats and their tools of torture. It nodded its.. head? in affirmation. It knew where they took the one Bruse searched for.
Still more images. Of the people in white coats, the men with guns, now all broken, bleeding, shredded. Images of shattered doors and broken prisons. These were not memories; These were promises.
There was more. Machinery, generators, power supply. A control panel. Memory of the smooth spherical room opening, changing shape. The appearance of a door, a vent, thin seams rendered imperceptible by technology and magic it could not reach or wield. But Bruse could. One of those shapes, any of those shapes, any break in the sphere, and it could be free. Free to hurt and avenge; Free to help.
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Post by Pearl Dragon on Jul 27, 2017 8:13:42 GMT -6
[[OOC - BIG NOTE! Bruse's action is mostly based on the creature's agreement (see below), so I wrote this assuming it agreed because it seemed like the most possible scenario/outcome. If that's NOT the case, let me know, because I might need to make major edits. I just didn't want to write two whole novels of text to account for both the creature's agreement and disagreement XD Let me know if this is not ok, I will happily fix it lol If the thing agrees, Bruse will make his way to the control panel and do some tinkering. I will say, however, if it doesn't agree (though it isn't mentioned in my post), he would probably refuse to help it because it would put his friends at great risk, and would therefore continue searching for Marchelute on his own. This is what I would edit in if that's the case.]]
The thing inside the chamber was indeed odd. It was not an earthly soul or spirit, obviously, and he was uncertain of whether or not it was even a demon, dark entity, physical or spiritual, or something in between. It's form, huge, constantly changing and flickering, barely seeming to grasp onto any sort of reality or existence, was extremely disfigured by nature and it was hard to tell what part of it was what through the screen peering into the perfectly seamless, spherical chamber. Something resembling the creature's head leaned in close to the viewing mechanism and once more Bruse began to receive telepathic messages from the creature, visions of the lab workers, one in particular that had a glowing blue eye, and military forces of the complex emphasized with a feeling of confusion and hatred. Whoever these people were, they had done terrible things, not only to this creature, but to all of the contained within the facility. Images of the experiments in particular were gruesome and enough to light an angry fire within the other spirit. How could these humans be so....heartless. So cold? But then, that was human nature. They could be the most curious and passionate of beings, but at the same time, impossibly cruel and without remorse in regards to meeting their own means to an end, whether it be money, knowledge, power, or all of the above. They were, in a sense, doomed from the beginning. A self-destructive race that would know no limit to their hunger for more, which is why Bruse had opted to stay out of most human affairs through all the thousands of years he'd resided here on Earth.
Now, new images came to him, a multiplying image of the creature's own kind, thousands of them in some other dimension, a swarm or hive, followed by a black mass with hundreds of golden eyes, intensifying a need to be reunited with its own kind and this....master. Yes, it was the creature's master. He could feel it. But soon the images returned to the facility and a rather familiar sight filled Bruse's mind. A black scaled humanoid, wings, and Bruse pushed back earnestly against the creature's consciousness, pressing into it as if to urge that yes, this was what he wanted. He needed to find him. Where? Where can he find this individual. The creature nodded and then fed to Bruse's mind, not memories, but a visual promise of everyone in the facility broken and shredded, revenge pooling about the imagery, followed by a fast succession of pictures detailing a direction to go, a door, a vent, a control panel, power supply. Overall, it hinted to disabling the spherical chamber, anything at all, to free the creature so that it may fulfill its promise.
But Bruse hesitated. His friends, they were not part of this system. He needed it to know that before it could be free. Once the creature had finished, Bruse now approached its mind with images of his own. Visions of everyone who had accompanied him into the complex, Vik, Sarkany, Raine, Taconin, Ari, and emphasized emotions of caution, friendship, protection. Do not harm them. Promise me this. What you do with those who harmed you is not our business, we are here for our friend. Visions of freedom now coursed towards the creature, and Bruse opened up an agreement, an oath. Vow not to harm the others, and I shall help you find freedom to the best of my abilities.
He did not like the idea of freeing such a vengeful creature, as he was certain not all of the humans here were guilty of having caused these beings so much harm, but then he desperately needed it's help in finding Marchelute. And, everyone who worked here surely would have been aware of the risk they took in partaking in such an organization. No, it was none of his business. As long as this creature kept its word to avoid harming anyone associated with their rescue. Bruse sent one final offer, a request to prove its loyalty to their agreement, and if it accepted, he would then give it a short nod before disappearing back towards the sounds of the generators, relying on the creature's visual directions to guide him. Following the industrial hum from earlier, Bruse eventually happened upon what he assumed was the generator, a large, loud room with a enormous box-shaped machine that nearly filled the room itself entirely. Off to the side was a series of panels, matching that of the creature's visual directions, and Bruse went to it. Then, focusing yet another pool of energy into both paws, he plunged them into the inner workings and wires of the panel, driving the energy into the circuit boards and power with all of his effort.
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Post by tsukikoko on Jul 28, 2017 11:32:34 GMT -6
[OOC: Viktoria plays up the creepy schtick Sarkany has laid out, then knocks out the captive once they have the relavant information. Proceeds towards the gunshots, ready to take on whoever was responsible. Ends up taking two shots at the gunman who shot Ari.]
"Easy with the claws, you know I don't like it tenderized." She responded to her friend's words by retracting her claws just enough that they were no longer pressed against the skin, though the man would still know they were there. As Sarkany investigated their captive, looking down and checking him over like the latest animal for slaughter, Viktoria played her part. She slowly parted her jaws, a deep, hungry growl rumbling up from her chest as she began to salivate, as though she were finding holding herself back from ripping into the man's flesh exceedingly difficult. "I think under the ribs this time." The hand covering their captive's mouth left him, dragged its way across his clothes, claws snagging and ripping the material until they reached the base of his ribs. Viktoria pressed her claws, slowly but insistently, against the man's skin. Her pupils swelled as instincts beyond her control grew excited at the prospect of tearing into this human. Her latest growl was very, very real.
He suddenly began to speak; a stumbling, terrified speel, but it was enough to bring Viktoria back to herself, pupils reverting to slits. His explanation drew her attention to the desk, but a series of distinct pops had her ears flickering backwards and her head turning to look over her shoulder. Even muffled by the distance, walls and doors, the sounds were easily recognisable as gunshots.
Someone in the team had been fired upon.
The humanoid was on her feet in seconds, dragging her captive up with her. As Viktoria hauled the man back to his feet, her eyes fell upon the plexiglass box on his desk. She knew that horn. Recognised the shape and the runes coating its surface. Fury, red hot, surged through her veins at the sight of it. Her arms clamped around the man's neck and head like a vice and she lifted his feet from the floor, a terrible snarl curling out from between her fangs right beside his ear. For a half-second, it looked as though she might snap the frightened employee's neck. In honesty, it was very tempting for her to do just that. But the humanoid shifted her grip, exerted pressure to cut off the blood supply feeding the man's brain - not for longer than a few seconds, but enough to have him slump unconscious. As soon as the scarred feline was sure he was out cold she dropped him to the floor, let him hit the ground with a dull thud. Judging by the gunshots she'd heard, it wouldn't matter even if he was found, their intrusion had been discovered. "Sarrkany." the feline said, already moving back to where she had left her gun, "Check paperrs. Get horrn." She was at the doorway now, ducking her head out briefly to check the corridor. She could make out some unidentified figures at the other end of the corridor. "I take point." If possible, her voice was even more deadpan than normal. There was a sharp, trained focus in the way she moved and gave instruction.
Viktoria made her way into the corridor now, moving quickly and quietly towards what she could now see was a guard levelling a gun at one of her companions. The spotted-skinned man was downed, bleeding from what she assumed to be a bullet wound in the leg.
Red mist began to descend over her vision; the weight of the gun felt good, it felt right, as she dropped to one knee, folded her ears flat against her skull and fired off two rounds - one for the man's chest, another for his head. The gun bucked in her hands, raw and dangerous. For just a second, she felt a spike of adrenaline, not from combat readiness, but from the thrill of how good that weapon felt to fire. The moment passed, she was focused again, ready to move for Ari or fire again if she missed. If she had to, she would even ditch the gun, force that gunman into close quarters and rip the man's arms from his sockets.
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Post by kilnarak on Jul 29, 2017 2:37:02 GMT -6
[ Ari is just gonna lay on the floor, try to look too pathetic to be shot a second time, and hope one of the others shows up. Taco is gonna try to work his brain magic on Hahn and his two flunkies, then shove past them to try to find Marchelute! ]
Ari was almost startled by how easily the dagger went in, meeting no resistance at all. The term 'like a hot knife through butter' came to mind and the thought was almost hysterical. He knew the normal feeling of a blade or claws cutting into flesh, and this wasn't it at all. His grip tightened around the grip of the dagger as the man began to buckle, and then he yanked it out with perhaps a bit more force than really necessary, cutting through a bit more of the man's back as he fell. He shifted his grip on the knife, planning to move, to rush the other guard before any revulsion for what he had just done caught up with him-
-and then the boom of a gun going off in close range deafened him. He began to move, wanting to get to the man before he fired again - but he wasn't fast enough. The thunder of the gun firing seemed even louder this time, and something slammed into his leg, knocking him off balance, knocking him face-first onto the floor. The knife left his hands, went skittering across the floor - lucky really, or he might have cut himself. His leg felt numb and it was some moments before the pain began to radiate outward from it, only after he tried to move. It burned at first, and he could feel blood, wet and warm and sticky, soaking into his jeans.
He made a small noise when the thought 'I've been shot' dawned on him, and he fought not to black out - although a part of his brain certainly wanted to. He wondered if the bullet had passed through or if he would have to dig it out. He wondered if the guard would shoot him again now that he was down. He wondered what had happened to Raine, what had happened to Sarkany and Viktoria. Had they heard? Would they come?
He tensed and grit his teeth as the searing sensation in his leg intensified, his body beginning the process to staunch the bleeding and close the hole. It would take some days to fully heal but at least he hopefully wouldn't bleed out in the meantime. At least, so long as Mr. Soldier-Guard didn't shoot him again. He loosed a breath, shakey, and moved to curl around himself, making a noise half-sob and half-whimper. It most certainly wasn't all acting, but he did play it up, trying to look as non-threatening and pitiful as he could.
---
Taconin followed his senses toward the living things, feeling out each consciousness that he passed in search of Father. Most were human, or human enough. They were uninteresting. And then, suddenly in the midst of it all, he found a mind that was, most certainly, Father! He froze in his tracks in the middle of a hallway, uncaring of the others that were nearby. He reached out toward Father's sleeping mind, wrapped his thoughts around it and tried to ease it awake.
Father! We are here to rescue you? Fath--
His voice was drowned out abruptly as a surge of rage and pain radiated out from Father's mind. He detached himself carefully, leaving the thought: We will come get you.
When he came back to himself his form shivered, sharp angry spines standing up along his back, black as oil. There were three humanish things staring at him. Two felt terror, and he reached for that, stoked it, drew it to himself and savored it. The third was not afraid - which struck Taconin as odd. It should be. His form had already been shifting, growing to accommodate the fears of the other two. His attention focused on the third human, the one with the extra arm and glowing eye. He should cower. He reached out, tried to feel out the shape of the man's fears - but there was nothing physical, nothing tangible that he could become. A growl rose in Taconin's throat and the many many spines spread out across his back rattled together.
He found something he could draw upon, finally, something he could use. Blindness. His focus was on the one man, but his reach still encompassed the other two. He reached into their minds and clouded them, brought up a wall of pitch black behind their eyes. And then with a scream - a screeching wail he dredged from the nightmares of one of the more fearful two - he rushed them, intending to barrel past them and find Father.
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Post by MP on Jul 29, 2017 3:51:52 GMT -6
[OOC: Sarkany goes seraph mode to retrieve and shield Ari from further gunfire.]
Sarkany's head turned at the man's direction. He moved to the desk without so much as a backwards glance, eyes flickering over the sheafs of folders and photos and tests. Over a familiar severed horn glowing within its case. He stood perfectly upright, perfectly still, regarding the thing with an expression that might have resembled that of a person staring at a museum exhibit if not for the set of his jaw. He looked back at the man with a flat, reptilian hatred.
Then a harsh sound: the crack of gunfire. And farther, deeper down, something else.
He hesitated for the space of a heartbeat, stiffening. The man scuffled and thumped somewhere behind him, earning not a single glance for his troubles. Then at Viktoria's call, Sarkany seemed to shake himself back to the present. He snatched the case and the documents off the table and swept after her.
He fell in behind the humanoid, low and slinking as he muffled his steps. His eyes were on the front window, watching for signs of reinforcements as she cleared the corridor ahead. He could see Ari curled in on himself from the doorway, a dying guard and a very much alive and angered one behind him. Sarkany moved away from Viktoria as she edged forward, eyes moving between her, the gunman, and the downed shifter.
In the pause before Viktoria's first two shots, he darted forward, form blurring, case and papers sliding to the ground where the man had stood. A grey angular head darted forward in a heron-like jab, teeth closing over the shifter's jacket and dragging him back and away from the gunfire. In another moment Ari was securely between the four front talons, which folded about him in a tent-like screen as the seraph hunkered over him.
The grey muzzle writhed back from dagger teeth, the tail lashing and ready to flick out in a deadly whip if the guard turned the rifle their way.
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Post by Salandis on Aug 3, 2017 3:43:17 GMT -6
[Raine just lost a point of sanity. He’s headed to Marchelute, and folks in the way won’t be happy about it.]
The lift was quiet. Raine almost expected typical mall elevator music, but super-secret bunkers in the middle of no-where wouldn’t go in for those sort of frills. It was fairly quick, though, and it gave him time enough to recover huaire. The cold that had followed him into the elevator was most unwelcome, and would be deadly if he had to stay there long. He was quite thankful he was at least dressed warmly.
The pain in his arm was… not quite there yet. It was mild, possibly needing a stitch or two, but was still not hurting as much as it would. Raine had enough experience to know that it would report in eventually, but in the meantime the shock and adrenalin of the sudden combat would keep it removed.
Gunshots rang out on the floor he left behind, and Raine was aware that his companions, drawn by the initial combat, may be running into trouble. And that Ari was closest, and may very well be the one being shot at now. Ideally he should head to the stairs, so he could take the guards from a less expected angle than simply riding the lift up again.
But then, in the rooms ahead, he heard a very familiar roar. His companions, even Ari, were all but forgotten. The anger that he had felt since arriving here at the thought that Marchelute was captive turned into fury at the confirmation that he was not simply here, but hurt. And angry. The gunshot wound was as nothing to the fiery wrath that began to gather within him, and all thoughts of returning upstairs vanished.
He ran down the hall, his unwounded hand holding the handle of the loosened whip. Marchelute would not appreciate the sound, but he fully intended to use it anyway on anyone who happened to be in his way. A rather loud commotion in the direction of the roar was followed by a feral shriek. Raine hesitated only a moment before continuing. He trusted that to be Taconin, but even if it wasn’t the small shifter Raine would press on. Nothing would stand between him and Marchelute now.
He turned the corner of the hall in time to see a monstrous but familiar form push through two men in lab coats. The men themselves were gibbering, though Taconin clearly meant to simply pass through. Raine followed on his heels. Hooking the whip to his belt, his hands reached eagerly for the helpless mens’ throats: A moment of contact, and they would never breathe again. He couldn’t see ahead past Taconin, but that was alright. Anything coming up from behind, or that got pushed to the side, would meet the same fate as the hapless researchers: The cold embrace of death.
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Post by Marshmallow on Aug 15, 2017 23:54:19 GMT -6
This Round...
Ari had the misfortune to be on the receiving end of a soldier's bullet...
Unable to get back to his feet to either attack or retreat, Ari curled in on himself with a whimper. Disarmed and disabled, he was no more threat to the guardsman. Still, the soldier kept his gun drawn and aimed, ready to fire should the intruder's pain prove to be a ruse. He advanced from his position, moving toward his downed comrade, though his gaze remained fixed on Ari.
Viktoria, in a burst of righteous anger, choked her hostage into unconsciousness and abandoned the poor man in a slump on the floor. She left the office with her gun drawn, responding to the sound of gunfire further down the hall...
Despite her great size, Viktoria proved to be adept at stealth, as any well-trained soldier ought to be. The security guard did not realize her presence until she had already taken aim, catching only a flicker of movement in his periphery as he closed in on Ari and his fallen colleague. He reacted quickly, raising his weapon and squeezing the trigger just as Viktoria herself fired.
His shot grazed the huge feline's shoulder. Viktoria's shots punched straight through the man's chest and skull. He dropped instantly, like a puppet cut from its strings, blood pooling on the tile.
Sarkany collected the evidence from the researcher's desk, though quickly abandoned it in the hall in order to shape-shift, and lunged to Ari's defense...
A heartbeat before bullets flew, the seraph was able to pull Ari clear of the crossfire. Crouched low over the shifter, he was fully prepared to fight. But there would be no need for him to retaliate. Viktoria made quick work of the guard for him. Once again the three were left in silence, broken only by Ari's keening and the weakening gasps of the paralyzed guard the leopard shifter had stabbed.
------
Taconin employed his abilities to incite fear to create a distraction so that he could push past the researchers in the hallway...
To the young demon's credit, his ability did send two of the three into hysterics. One researcher collapsed where he stood, screaming and curling into a fetal position. The other made a mad dash for freedom, despite the unnatural darkness that had fallen over his vision.
The third man - the strange doctor with the glowing eye and extra arm - was... almost unfazed. He straightened and drew back a step when the vision of his mortal eye went dark, startled by the sudden loss. A fleeting panic ran ice down his spine. "Vat is zis..?" he hissed, as thin lips pulled into a frown. But he did not succumb to terror as his colleagues had. His right eye was blinded perhaps, but not his left. The spectral orb was unhindered by the demon's ploy, and could still see the rippling outlines of the creature as it charged forward, shrieking.
"You are interrupting my vork..."
Raine caught up to Taconin, and followed close on the shadow demon's heels with a taste for death...
It was almost pathetic how easy it was for the Irishman to dispatch the two researchers. One was curled on the floor, gibbering to himself and trying to block out the sound of the monster's shrieking. It was his worst nightmares come to life. He was cold and dead before he noticed the hand at his throat. The second man fared no better. He ran blindly along the wall, unwittingly toward his approaching demise, ignorant of the danger closing in until he, too, fell cold and lifeless at Raine's feet.
That left just one more obstacle in the corridor: the twisted Dr. Hahn.
In the span of only a few moments, the scientist was facing down two attackers, and one of them had partially blinded him through some means. But he was Dr. Walter Hahn, notorious escaped prisoner Number Thirty-Six, and he would not be quite so easily bested! What followed happened in quick succession...
His attention shifted, changing the focus from his alarming partial vision loss to the charging thing that had caused it. How he would like to study this strange new creature, that had oh so conveniently come to his lab on its own. Curiously, and to his relief, the blindness lifted once he had put aside the prickling fear. An illusion, then? He was smiling as the creature neared. It didn't seem to be attacking - it meant to charge past him.
How convenient. His first test would be to see if it reacted to his venom. Perhaps he could capture it for study... Walter ducked to the side as Taconin neared. From its concealed position beneath his lab coat, his secondary tail suddenly lashed out like a whip. The needle-sharp end of the stinger sank into dark flesh with ease, and recoiled a heartbeat later. It was enough exposure to his paralytic to drop a human in seconds, but would this creature even be effected? There were other means to restrain it otherwise, but the opportunity had presented itself to try.
Close on the demon's heels was a more direct threat. The abrupt silence of his colleagues did not escape Walter's notice.
To the doctor's glowing eye, Raine's approach was an advancing dark blot in the other creature's wake, a void of cold in the middle of the ambient warmth of the corridor. When the blindness had lifted from his mortal eye, he could see what stood in the center of the cold spot. In that instant of sharpened focus, Raine's advance was abruptly halted. The faintest shimmer of blue fell across the Irishman's form, and Walter's eye blazed in its socket. It took more effort than he expected to spend - how interesting - but he rendered the shorter man weightless. He held Raine aloft in the air for the briefest of moments, intrigued in spite of the situation, then hurled him back down the hall with force. There was a satisfying THUD when Raine struck the wall at the far end.
-----
Bruse struck a bargain with the Mystery Creature in the strange chamber, accepting its promise of assistance in return for setting it free. Channeling all the energy he could muster, he struck out at the master control panel of the facility...
The generator room was massive, and packed full of humming machinery. At the far end, the master control panel glowed with a constant feed of information, monitoring power levels, temperatures, and more. Everything was operating well within normal parameters.
Until the ghost's claws plunged into the circuit board.
Power surged through the system, completely overwhelming the surge protections in place, shorting wires and popping fuses. Sparks erupted from the panel, and the many screens blinked and fritzed as programs stuttered and systems choked. The throat-stinging smell of melting plastic, singed metal and ozone filled the air as arcs of electricity melted internal components.
Outside the room, lights flickered and doors shuddered. Conflicting, broken signals caused several of the containment cells to unlock, opened and closed ventilation ducts, disabled cameras... A cascade failure rolled through the system.
Inside the spherical chamber, a seam appeared. A concealed entrance started to open, before power went down completely and utterly. The force field inside the sphere vanished with a pop as all the lights on the floor went dead.
The system was down. The creature was free.
With the control panel dead and the generators silent, Bruse's work was complete. As he left the machine room to check on his handiwork, back-up systems were struggling to come online. Red emergency lights began to flash in the hallway. As he rounded the corner, he would be met with a curious sight.
The ever-shifting body of the creature hovered silently in the corridor, softly illuminated by the pulsing red glow of the emergency lights. But it was not alone. Silhouetted by the blinking crimson light was another figure. It resembled a man in a long coat, tall and imposing, though between the darkness and the slow flashing red far behind him, no further detail was discernible. One hand was raised, cupping the side of the creature's twisted head. He was speaking to it, but in no Earthly language. His voice was barely a whisper, but it was dark and deep, and the entire corridor seemed to shudder under the weight of it.
He became aware of Bruse, turning his head only slightly, gaze sliding to the spirit. Irises like liquid gold seemed almost to glow in the darkness as he pinned the large spirit with his stare. And it was as if the entire weight of the world and beyond pressed down upon Bruse. The shadows grew long, and the flashing lights grew dim, and the air felt suddenly thick and heavy and deathly cold.
With the next slow blink of the lights, the figure and his weighted presence were gone, as though he had never been.
The creature turned and chittered in delight. It approached Bruse, feeding his mind with feelings of joy, gratitude, and adoration. It twined the many, barbed coils of its long and sinuous body around the spirit, making contact as though Bruse were physical. It cooed and warbled its appreciation, stroking serrated claws through the wispy green mane.
And then the thing detached. It had a bargain to uphold. It darted away with a clicking hiss, and lunged into the nearest corner where wall met ceiling. Literally into it. With a sound like shifting glass shards, reality fractured at the creature's passing. And then it was simply... gone. Vanished through the angled space to... somewhere else.
Somewhere high above, as alarms began to wail and static crackled through intercom speakers, there was screaming...
----
All throughout the facility, lights abruptly flickered, then winked out entirely and plunged every floor into a total blackout. Red lights set into the ceilings of corridors began to flash, and klaxons blared angrily through the halls. An automated voice crackled over the intercom system, warped and distorted by damage to critical systems.
"System Failure - Critical Damage Sustained"
The broadcast was interrupted by a burst of crackling static, then continued.
"Emergency Back-up Generators Engaged"
More static and distortions followed, but light returned in small flickering patches along the halls and stairs as emergency systems struggled to life. The alarms seemed only to increase in both volume and pitch.
"Containment Breach Detected - Initiating Lockdown."
A heavy thud rang down the elevator shaft as locking mechanisms engaged, sealing the doors shut for safety purposes. Another, more distant sound, echoed from the hangar.
"System Failure - Critical Damage Sustained"
The crackling message continued to repeat.
Audible to Viktoria, Sarkany and Ari upstairs, the distant but steadily rising sound of pounding footsteps drifted down the stairwell. Several pairs of them, most likely. And then, shouting. Screaming? And gunfire. If they were to make any move, it would have to be fast, but it seemed something might be buying them time...
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Post by Pearl Dragon on Aug 16, 2017 12:32:29 GMT -6
[[OOC - Bruse attempts to follow after the beasty, intent on finding Marchelute and making sure the creature held true to its promise of not hurting his companions.]]
Bruse returned to the corridor as the power grid crashed and plunged the facility into an outage. Doors and ventilation shuddered and malfunctioned from the loss of power, most of which were unlocked and opened in the confusion, along with the spherical chamber. There, in the hallway, stood the creature, it's body illuminated by the pulsing red lights of the emergency lights. Along with another figure, who stood close to the creature, cradling its head speaking to it in some sort of shadowed whispering before they turned to look in Bruse's direction. Their eyes were a shimmering gold, and the look was heavy and foreboding, pinning Bruse in place.
The larger spirit returned the figure's gaze, unable to discern details of the man's face other than the eyes. He felt the heaviness, the darkening, lengthening shadows, and his own eyes glowed hungrily back at him. A deep growl rose momentarily in Bruse's core and he had the sudden urge to lunge forward at this imposing figure. They felt very...wrong to Bruse. But, before he could act on any form of instinct, the figure was gone in between the fading lights, and Bruse was then bombarded by a mental flood of gratitude, joy, and adoration as the creature now approached Bruse with a shrill sound of delight. Bruse could feel it coiling about his form, cooing and warbling as it grazed his mane with razor claws in a sort of caressing motion. A tremor ran the length of Bruse's form, unused to the near-physical sensation of the contact as he remained frozen to the spot, his mind silent in return to this creature's odd method of giving thanks. His eyes remained locked on the spot where the figure had stood only moments before, quivering like candle flames in the dark. Then, the embrace of the creature receded and Bruse finally turned his attention back to it.
By now it was headed for the wall, and within moments, it had leapt and disappeared into and through the upper corner of the ceiling, vanishing from view. Bruse chased after it, intent on following its lead to wherever he might find Marchelute. He too passed through the walls, and continued on in the direction the creature went, hoping to catch up with it. All the while, he fought back the expected regret he felt for loosing such a creature onto the humans. He knew this would've been the consequence, that he'd more than likely doomed all of the facility workers in the building, but had resigned to accept that this was not his problem but theirs, a growing inevitable result to their endlessly inhumane, cruel testings and torturings of the facility's prisoners. His only concern now was to find Marchelute, and the others, and to make sure no harm came unto them while the facility dealt with this new problem. Bruse only hoped the creature kept its word in not harming Bruse's companions.
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Post by MP on Aug 16, 2017 20:13:46 GMT -6
[OOC: Sarkany hands the evidence to Ari and picks up the shifter to regroup with Raine and Taconin on B1.]
The darkness was not particularly troubling. The screeching alarms and flashing, flickering lights on the other hand... Sarkany's mane and crests flattened to his neck in distress, nictitating membranes winking up to shield his eyes. The seraph shook his head as if to ward off an insect and then dipped his head to see to the shifter between his talons. The curled body flashed red, dark, red again in his vision. But Ari did not smell too strongly of blood. And Sarkany could not smell metal in the wound.
Satisfied, he turned with a huff toward the fallen evidence instead. There was no hope of carrying it in this shape, so he did the next best thing. Looping his tail around the papers and the box, he swept them in towards his feet and nosed the shifter forward. He could hear gunfire somewhere above. Screams.
[Regroup,] he said to Viktoria, though his focus was still on Ari.
When he'd successfully convinced the shifter to gather up the evidence, Sarkany sank into a kind of bow beside him, mane sighing as he vented aether to flatten as far to the floor as he could. He urged Ari onto his shoulders with a low hoot, and a prompting talon if the shifter tarried. Failing that, he would simply close his teeth over the shifter's collar and heave him aboard before making for the stairwell and the sounds of combat below. The responders were coming, and their companions had found trouble, and they could not afford to be slow.
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Post by kilnarak on Aug 16, 2017 23:27:46 GMT -6
[ Ari gathers up the evidence and climbs up onto an epic weasel mount to ride to Marchelute's rescue! Or something like that. Taconin is offended that Hahn tried to sting him. He tries to sting him back, and tries to bite him too! ]
Ari held himself as still as he could, still trying to look as pathetic as he could manage. He was aware of the soldier advancing on him - more aware than he would have liked to be, given the circumstances. He wondered if he would hear the crack of the gunshot before the bullet shattered his skull, or if the sound of his body breaking would drown it out.
A small and decidedly terrified noise rose in his throat as something rushed toward him. The something resolved into Sarkany and he choked around the word 'No!' as the seraph grabbed him and jerked him back - no! the guard would shoot! if not him, then Sarkany! He heard the crack of gunfire and flinched into a fetal position, curling about himself. And then he was trapped in a cage of claws and oddly smooth flesh as Sarkany pulled him under his chest. There wasn't any pain - at least not any new pain, the nerves in his leg were beginning to scream as the shock faded - so the man must have shot at Sarkany... But he didn't smell the seraph's blood, the only blood he smelled was his own and the human scent of the downed guard.
And then the screaming of the alarms began, lights flashing fit to blind him, and Sarkany drew off of him. The guard that had shot him was dead and Viktoria held a gun - it hadn't been the guard who had fired. The flashing lights and blaring noise were disorienting, and his leg screamed just as loud for attention. While Sarkany made noises at Viktoria, Ari curled to examine his leg, his breathing coming hard. From the front, the wound wasn't so bad, but where the bullet had exited on the back of his calf was a mess. Still, at least it wasn't still lodged in his flesh. Already the blood flowing from the wound had staunched, and he could feel his flesh trying to pull back together, to close itself and heal. It wasn't a pleasant feeling.
He wasn't sure he trusted it to hold his weight just now, either. He had enough time to make that observation before Sarkany nudged at him, then nudged harder, pushing him toward some papers and a box with... "Oh... That's... We need to hurry! Ah, right, I can... get it." He gathered up the paperwork as best he could, then took the box with Marchelute's horn carefully under one arm. At Sarkany's insistence, he awkwardly dragged himself up onto the seraph's back, hissing at the hurt it caused his leg. He wasn't sure how well he'd be able to hang on with his arms full of evidence but... well, he'd have to hang on, wouldn't he? "We-We need to hurry, he's... down. I-I don't think he's too far below..."
---
Taconin was aware of Raine's approach behind him and of the life being snuffed out of two of the screaming scientists. He was almost disappointed, their fear had flowed into him, strengthening him, and abruptly it was gone. The third scientist... hadn't seemed affected much at all by his attempts. Perhaps had he more time he would have puzzled out something more effective - it was a new sensation to have something so completely resist - but he didn't have time. Father needed him.
The demonling meant to continue his charge down the hall, but as he moved past the stranger of the three scientists something swung out from beneath the man's... robe? coat? and stung him. It didn't exactly hurt, although it did rupture his hide, black oozing from the wound. Affronted, Taconin twisted about like a striking snake and snapped at the retreating sting, his own three tails arching back and immitating the assault that had just been aimed at him. He had no venom, but he shifted matter into the pointed tips of his tail, making them hard and sharp as arrow-heads. He could sting too! And he would if this stranger meant to keep him from Father!
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