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Post by MP on Sept 11, 2018 23:39:34 GMT -6
"Until I’m dead?" Sarkany chuckled dryly as they fell. "Am I so irresistible?"
He probably shouldn't make light of it. Not that he doubted Viktoria, but they flew on a storm's edge - high stakes, and very little time. Halfway there, he reassured himself. The worst should be behind them. And what was the point of it all if you couldn't laugh a little?
They drifted to a stop in what he guessed was an arena. Even without a physical body, Sarkany seemed at home in the weightlessness. He followed the players with interest while they waited, tipping his head as this one or that gained the upper hand, trying to parse the brawl into rules. What an odd choice of memory. He glanced at the feline with an expression of false innocence.
"Does this make me the pig?"
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Post by tsukikoko on Sept 13, 2018 3:39:49 GMT -6
Viktoria's attention was divided as they waited. Between listening to Sarkany - who's voice she had dearly missed - recounting the game that she had played all that time ago and letting her awareness float free enough to track the movements of her own self, the feline looked distracted. Even so, she chuckled at the seraph's last statement, shaking her head. "Nyet. Like morrre, ah..." she patted her own chest, then indicated the memory version of herself, "brrrright outfit, make pig angrrry. I am someti-" Viktoria's scarred muzzle abruptly turned to the right, both torn ears swivelling forwards as she listened. She stared at the arena's far side, motionless, for a good few seconds. "I am herrre." Sure enough, as soon as the words left Viktoria's mouth, a looming figure appeared behind the scrapping wrestlers, who were now doing their best to prevent each other forcing the pig into one of the scoring cages.
The single-minded creature began its steady, unending pace, fixating immediately upon Sarkany's position. The golden thorns that pierced this emotionless version of Viktoria began to writhe like angry snakes as she neared the two companions. Not taking her eyes off the chain-ridden amalgam of her killing ability, the real Viktoria spoke quickly. "You speak of making somezing I can fight, da?" A quick smack of her own skin, at the same location one of the twisting tendrils emerged from her other self, "Thorrrns. Ve must destrroy. Else cannot rrrreforrrm." A glance in Sarkany's direction, then a small shrug. "I assume. Cannot forr sure say." The machine-like supersoldier was barely a stone's throw away at this point and suddenly kicked off the arena floor to surge weightlessly in their direction, claws unsheathing as she did so. Even as she continued to speak, the real Viktoria leapt forward to intercept, "You arrre in low grrravity fight betterrr zhan me, I am zinking." Her arm and shoulder slammed into the other right above her knees, meaning she was able to take the soldier's legs out from underneath it and at least divert its course for a few seconds. The tendrils appeared to make a grab for the real one, but the humanoid was out of range before they could so much as brush her. "I cannot touch forrr long." The super-soldier righted herself, eyes fixing Sarkany once more. "Must move memorrry afterrr shorrt time." With a corkscrew motion, the ever-shifting embodiment of focused savagery shifted her momentum around to rush at the seraph again. "I vill trrrry to make good choice, but vorrrk quick prrrobably best."
Now having closed the distance, the determined killer version of Viktoria made a quick, swiping grab for the inconsistent form of Sarkany with her claws. Rather than the feral, uncontrolled attacks of her enraged self, this seemed far more an attempt to restrain him. Where undoubtedly the plan was to finish him off quickly and brutally.
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Post by MP on Sept 13, 2018 11:04:22 GMT -6
[OOC: He rolled a 20 to reshape! My boyyy!]
He never found out what Viktoria was in the scheme of the memory. In shockingly, blessedly short moments, the soldier was upon them. Sarkany sprang back from the two terrines, a nearly horizontal course across the field. Yellow eyes flickered over the soldier, thoughts racing though their options as he drifted. He reoriented himself in a catlike twist, pivoting with a hand to leap clear of the second lunge. There was no wind in a mindscape, no real force, but he felt the intent off the feline's claws as he darted past her. Give her something tangible, a target. Something indirect.
His words were low and quick as he landed, sharp with strain and urgency and - to the uncommonly focused listener - the faintest ring of command.
“A thorn is defensive. It exists to be ignored, not to snare. Look again - at the root this time. They aren’t independent, and they aren’t thorns.”
The thing seemed to fade in as he nodded at it, as his words shaped the air, like it had always been there: a shape hunkered over the threads. There was something of the child in it; something of the Martian. The effect was entirely monstrous. Elegant, disproportionate, it felt at the lines with spindly limbs, plucking at this one or that with sickly shining fingertips. It made no move toward the pair of them, only wove the lines tighter around its tool, its prey, a spider at the heart of its web.
Sarkany spoke of a weaver, a passive predator, shaping the manifestation as it grew. One couldn’t truly alter a dreamscape. It was made of projections, opinions, perspective given form. Influence here was not a matter of strength or willpower or even affection. It was about suggestion, convincing the mind to see as you did. The threads were only a tool. If Viktoria couldn’t fight them directly, he would give her the handler behind them. This seemed the most natural choice. She’d been fighting that influence for as long as he’d known her.
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Post by tsukikoko on Sept 14, 2018 7:55:48 GMT -6
Even from just that brief interception, the talking and small amount of movement in the weightless space, even with Sarkany's assistance, Viktoria could feel what strength she had leeching away from her. A steady bleed, slow but inevitable. Her eyes turned to Sarkany, trusting his ability in this as she drifted away from him. She disliked being in the thick of it, but throwing herself at her target would achieve substantially more harm than good at this juncture. So instead, the feline oriented herself, feet planting against one of the cages in the arena. Ready to move as soon as he had readied the stage.
One of her ears flickered, she looked at the walls from the corner of her eye, watching the walls as they slowly peeled away and gold appeared from beneath. Not much time.
Whatever she had been expecting Sarkany to do, Viktoria had to admit it was certainly not what unfolded before her. Here, in this place, seperated from most of herself and comprised near entirely of the rebellious streak that had led the feline to break away from her masters in the first place, Viktoria felt something new flare violently to life inside her. Never before had she been able to feel such things towards those that controlled her, designed to be incapable of it. But now, staring at that foul-limbed creature, with its traces, the essence, of that tall, lean stature she knew so well. Watching as it puppeteered her body for its own ends, sent her chasing after Sarkany regardless of her own feelings on the matter... her disdain, her hatred, took on a physical, swirling presence around her. They had taken her freewill from her all those years ago. This group were repeating the cycle.
She refused to let them.
With a short, sharp growl, the scarred feline catapulted herself towards Sarkany and the controlled version of herself. As giant tendrils tore through the arena, an airlock behind the seraph creaked open, revealing a swirling shape of black, blue and purple, dotted with intense, bright white. A spinning galaxy, moving far too quickly. "Must move!" That was all Viktoria managed, before she collided, not with herself, but the creature pulling the strings as it prepared to force Sarkany into a corner. It shrieked with furious surprise, though whether that was only her mind's interpretation, or how this entity actually felt, Viktoria didn't know. She didn't care. What mattered was that she could hit it, could fight it. Could destroy it, protect her friend, gain control again. Stop herself from tearing down everything she had come to love in this world she had landed.
With the creature now desperately pulling the supersolider's body around to fight, her other self suddenly split in an array of static, before reforming with blackened eyes and an open, fang-filled maw just as they passed the airlock threshold. As the two Terrines wrestled, Viktoria trying to reach around with her claws to the spindle-limbed creature and her other self trying to shift the weight preventing it reengaging Sarkany, their entire world became nothing but darkness. An endlessly stretching void, punctuated by distant lights. Stars. In the distance, a lone white figure, floating motionless. There was no sound in this place. Nothing save a consistent, laboured breathing that sounded as though it were inside a helmet, or coming through a radio. Still the two humanoid's cartwheeled; one fiercely determined, the other a vision of fury.
Just as her claws raked in front of her enemy's 'face' the bony protrusion extending from other-Viktoria's elbow smacked the real feline beneath her chin, making her grunt as her teeth clacked together. Her grip faltered, only momentarily, but that was enough for her rage-enduced self to twist free. "Sarrrkany!" A warning shout, audible even over the vision's loud, constant breaths, was all she could manage for her friend before the puppeteered, savage supersoldier lunged for the seraph in a flurry of claw and fang. He was the true target, the dangerous entity allowing the scales to tip in Viktoria's favour.
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Post by MP on Sept 14, 2018 10:49:18 GMT -6
Adrift in the dark, ears full of the claustrophobic breathing, Sarkany watched the struggle with eyes like pitch, knowing that both their lives hinged on the outcome. He couldn’t seem to propel himself in this place, couldn’t assist in the fight, but he tracked Viktoria’s progress as the felines struggled. A barrier, a weapon, an ally - options flickered through his mind and dropped away with the feline’s every shift and swipe. He needed to have another manifestation ready for any kind of help she might need. But what kind of tool would even fit this place? It needed to blend in, to come naturally to the mind. He didn’t even know where this was.
A warning shout. Sarkany refocused as the soldier lunged for him.
“The chains, Hkoma!” He called back a reminder and lurched to evade.
Nothing. He remembered, with a pang of genuine fear, that he could not. The place - whatever world this memory reflected - would not allow it. Unable to fight, helpless to avoid the danger, he met the black-eyed stare with darkening eyes.
Sarkany struck out as the soldier reached him. His dead hand deflected a grasping claw, his good hand snagging her armored side with the strength of desperation. In a flash he brought his legs up, arms twisting to angle himself. He pivoted around her torso and planted his feet, feeling the whistle of claws past his neck, and kicked off the feline’s side, sending them in opposite directions.
With luck, that would buy him a little breathing room. But whether the soldier obeyed the laws of the memory of not, whether she caught him or not, it no longer mattered. The spider was undefended now, curled and vulnerable in the dark; Viktoria’s mind had accepted his idea, acknowledged it, and now the manifestation was hers. It moved by her will, reflected her perceptions, was a shadow of her outside influences. Even his death wouldn’t change that. In spite of the danger, crippled though he was in the strange air, Sarkany smiled. He was only the bait.
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Post by tsukikoko on Sept 17, 2018 11:08:01 GMT -6
Viktoria heard the shout, saw the reaction of her friend and his lurching dive attempt, but how he could not escape. Her blood ran cold. She had made a mistake, assumed wrong. Given the nature of his flight, that free-flowing, floating locomotion, she had thought he would be perfectly comfortable in zero gravity. Now she realised how stupid she had been; low gravity, with air resistance and thermals, was a far cry from the weightless void of space. As her other self closed the distance on her friend, Viktoria cried out in briefly terrified anguish, knowing there was no way she could intervene in time.
Thankfully, mercifully, after a few seconds that seemed to appear in horrific slow motion, Sarkany broke away, sending the violent supersoldier sprialling away from him. She would redirect before long, Viktoria knew this because she knew she would have been able to, but he was still alive. Her attention shifted to the puppeteer, the spider-like entity, now alone in the nothingness. It writhed, unable to co-ordinate itself without Viktoria's body and now bound to the laws of the memory. The scarred feline saw it, felt the urge to tear it asunder rise inside her. But then, in her peripherals, the savage vision of herself swinging back around to charge for Sarkany again. She had no idea if he would survive another encounter, didn't want to risk it in this place, where she had no idea what would actually happen to him if he died. She left the spider, twisting instead for her clone, reaching for the trailing chains.
Black eyed and fully intent on ripping the seraph in half, other-Viktoria's trajectory abruptly shifted sideways as Viktoria herself got a hand around the chain and began to spin. She used the weight of her other self to build up their momentum ever further; in the lack of gravity her tactic soon sent the pair of felines careening through the weightless space. On one of her passes, having drawn closer to Sarkany, Viktoria put a hand out, shoving her friend away from her rather quickly. Her violent other self twisted as she spun it, trying to claw at itself and whatever had interrupted its hunt. On one of the sweeping arcs she had created, Viktoria suddenly released the chain, sending herself spiralling at speed, while she was sent in the opposite direction. Right towards the twitching, spasming puppeteer. Meanwhile, as Sarkany drifted, one of the distant stars began to glow brighter, encompassing and overlaying a number of the twinkling lights around it. The glow continued to burn, brighter and brighter, until the seraph fell through it. Viktoria's fight vanished very suddenly and the bright light became a blazing sun in a hazy sky above, before Sarkany was once again subject to a gravitational pull. A force that promptly dumped him in waist deep, murky water.
Some kind of commotion had erupted nearby to him, a deep, almost prehistoric hissing filling the air. Whatever was creating the sound was obviously very large, given the volume and how water was now madly spraying into the air. But perhaps more pressing, was how the water beneath Sarkany was disturbed by something gliding through the water nearby to him. Another snarl, more familiar this time, as Viktoria and a shrieking, writhing creature in her grip came falling out of the air. They landed a few feet away from Sarkany in a spray of water.
The water beneath Sarkany erupted in a mass of reptilian jaws, teeth and bodies. Some clamped onto one another, others launched themselves towards whatever commotion had already been in progress when the seraph amalgam landed. Still others simply snapped at the air and everything around them, including where Sarkany stood.
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Post by MP on Sept 17, 2018 21:58:22 GMT -6
Sarkany struggled to orient himself in the dark. There was nothing to grab onto, no reference point but the passing glimpse of feline figures and the sickly light of the chains. He snatched for the latter, fingers grazing the nearest as he drifted by. But he missed his hold, and now he was facing the wrong way around. He gritted his teeth in frustration, twisting to try and right himself. Or at least face the soldier.
Instead he was pushed - a hearty shove that sent him spinning toward the far lights. Never in all his life had he felt so undignified in weightlessness. The more rational part of his brain retorted that this wasn't the time for Icarim pride. Another attempt to turn. Then the lights swallowed him up.
The flickering figure emerged into a normal sky, falling through a normal atmosphere. But despite the more familiar conditions, it seemed to make little difference. Sarkany failed to catch himself. He hit the swamp with a dull splash, the water closing over him. A dazed pause where he did not resurface. Then he began to pull himself upright. The silken brush of something across his back intensified his struggles. In another moment he'd gained his feet. But he moved too late.
Teeth surfaced around him, churning and snapping. He hissed a sharp intake of breath as one of them crashed shut over his arm. Flesh and fabric tore. Sarkany's bright amalgam flickered and splintered as he braced against its jaws. The creature released him a moment later to lunge at its neighbor, and he leaped clear of the brawl, trailing a fine glowing haze. His strength was draining quickly with these constant transitions, but he stood alert now, poised and waiting for the soldier.
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Post by tsukikoko on Sept 18, 2018 6:29:45 GMT -6
Given their seperated entrances to this memory, Viktoria had no idea where Sarkany had landed, couldn't see him from where she struggled with the horrific creature in her claws. Long, spindly limbs grasped for her head, or else the body attempted to writhe away from her and escape, it was all the feline could do to keep the thing restrained while her body lay half submerged in swamp water. Her lethal jaws snapped at it whenever the claw-like fingers drew too close and for the moment the two were in a tangled, aggressive stalemate.
The melee of crocodiles did not lunge for Sarkany again, too interested in a damaged member of their brethren, who was steadily being ripped asunder. Instead, he had leapt closer to the other ensuing brawl, which consisted of a black, armour-clad figure. In one hand, the humanoid wielded a blade, the razor thin edge glowing a vibrant red. The other hand was currently planted on the head of a crocodile that could not have been smaller than 20 meters, allowing the figure to push off it and spring away from the thrashing jaws of death trying to grab a hold. Unfortunately, they could not avoid the tail as it swept across their body, sending them crashing through a nearby tree and bouncing face-first off a rock to Sarkany's left. The crocodile whipped round in an instant to charge at the fallen figure already pushing themselves to their feet. The visor of their body armour had cracked, revealing a brilliant emerald eye within.
Viktoria had no time to avoid the behemoth, who's maw swiftly snapped shut just above her hips, causing the feline's legs to be engulfed and halfway to the creature's throat. It was an attack that should have split her in half and only the body armour prevented that exact scenario, though it was plain to see the massive teeth had still punctured some of the way through. The cracks were spreading, slowly but surely, as the feline brought her glowing knife around.
At the same moment the giant crocodilian snapped jaws around the memory of Viktoria - revealing the origin of a certain ring of scars - there was a heavy thump and the ripple of water nearby. The chained super solider rose, steadily, from where she had landed amongst the swamp. Her gaze scanned the tall grasses and murky waters for her target, lips peeled back from her rows of fangs. Currently her back was to Sarkany, but that likely wouldn't be the case for long.
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Post by MP on Sept 18, 2018 12:24:55 GMT -6
Sarkany winced as the jaws snapped shut. The armor crackled like a lobster’s shell, the sound echoing over the bog. He used battle as cover, moving past and away from the soldier on careful steps. One reaching stride. Another as he tested the murky ground. If he could put the grasses between them, keep the chase going long enough for Viktoria to -
Another wince as a spasm stopped him in his tracks. They were getting worse, his body seizing before his mind could prevent it. No good running then. He righted himself, pushing forward as loose mud slithered under his feet. Low, slinking steps. He stilled the grasses to mask his movements - left-armed, with dead fingers - the bloodied right seemed not to respond. Ducking into the water. Gliding low as the reptiles did to dull his glow. Always moving away from the soldier, a broadening spiral to stay out of her gaze. Sarkany relied on the murk and the screening grass and the chaotic brawl of bodies to hide him. He mustn’t be seen yet, mustn’t distract Viktoria until she could finish her task. He gritted his teeth, fighting an oncoming tremor and the treacherous flicker it brought.
You’d better hurry, Hkoma.
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Post by tsukikoko on Sept 18, 2018 14:33:36 GMT -6
Usually, this sort of situation would lead Viktoria to deliberately call upon her unlimited reserves of rage-fueled violence. But that resource was currently stalking her friend through the memory, she had nothing to call on. For once, in a test of stamina and constitution, the feline wasn't sure she would hold out the longest. Her ear flickered in the super soldier's direction, as her arm wound around her puppeteer opponent at one of its spindly elbows, trying to snap the joint. Her other self would find Sarkany sooner or later, it had nearly as much control over her own mindscape as she did, at least enough to know his vague location. She was running out of time. Out of energy.
So, she stopped fighting.
Her elbow collapsed inwardly, sending the long-limbed monstrosity towards her. It's hands opened wide, long fingers already moving as though to pull invisible strings, mouth open with a hiss that might have been excitement. Exactly what she wanted. Again Viktoria saw flashes of the child, of her Martian owners, even of those who inadvertently controlled her, thinking her simply obedient. She saw them and the rebellious hatred flared to life once again, blazed as white hot fire inside her. A clawed hand swept up from the murk, slashed the creature across the face, then caught the wailing, twisting creature by the side of its head as it was sent sprawling from her. Without a trace of hesitation her jaws opened, rows of shark teeth flashing in the glaring sun before they descended onto what might have been a face. The entity shrieked, screamed with the voice of a child. So familiar... to so many times before... Her hand gripped its torso, claws piercing between slim ribs. Then she was pulling, tearing. The muscles of her neck stood proud and taut as she threw her head back, while yanking down with her arm, until the creature in her grip tore in half. The snap of a snapping cord echoed through the mindscape, loud as a gunshot. Viktoria tossed the flayed carcass of her tormentor aside, where a mass of crocodiles set upon it in a heaving cacophony of scales and teeth.
Viktoria stood for a moment, watching the mass of reptiles. Her face, once again stoical. Impassive on the surface though inside she felt she might burst from exhilaration. She felt a weight lift; not all of it by any stretch, but enough that she felt taller and lighter than ever before. But now was not the time to celebrate, it could all be for nought, if she collapsed now. All would be reset, the defences of her parasite stronger next time. She turned her head to look for her companion, seeing her other self a few metres away, flickering between determined focus and animal savagery.
The scarred feline staggered, fell to her knees.
She was tired... so very tired, her body swaying with fatigue despite being inside her own mind! If they got out of this, Viktoria intended to quiz Sarkany about this whole experience. Yet, despite her exhaustion, the feline began pushing herself to her feet, jaw set tight with determination. Her friend had sacrificed his own well-being to bring her this far, despite how she had attacked him, his son and many other people besides. She was not about to lay down and let it end here. One step forward, then another, momentum slowly building as the scarred feline made towards her flickering, murderous self. Both ears had come up, she saw the nostrils flare, the head turn and fixate on one particular spot. She knew. She knew where the seraph was and Viktoria could see her own lips peeling back, her own muscles prime, every line of her body preparing to fight and slaughter. She wasn't close enough, didn't have the speed or energy to get there. She only needed a few more seconds, just a few more! "Sarrkany! MOVE!" Viktoria yelled even as she continued to rush forward, one arm outstretched, as her other self leapt through the air. But then she saw him, saw his ever-shifting self between the grasses. He wasn't where she thought he would be. It was just a trace of his essence, caught amongst a gang of bickering crocodiles.
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Post by MP on Sept 18, 2018 15:26:19 GMT -6
He heard the call and raised his head. The glow flickered and sparked as he moved, dull even without the crust of mud. But the soldier had found the blood trail, not his hiding place. With his pursuer distracted amidst the threshing reptiles, Sarkany lifted the dead hand to Viktoria in a brief salute. Then he pulled himself to his feet and began to wade toward her.
He moved as quickly as he could, aware that it would bring the soldier to her. But it was not efficient ground. The mud seemed to tug at him; the grasses snatched at his feet. For an imperceptible moment, the seraph faltered, frame stiffening and blurring. But he never stopped. Sarkany kept his focus on the felines and slogged on in tired silence.
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Post by tsukikoko on Sept 18, 2018 16:39:48 GMT -6
Viktoria watched as Sarkany came towards her, more exhausted than even she. The both of them could barely stand, but her counterpart.. that was another story. A wide muzzle lifted into the air, standing tall and unphased by the thrashing scales at her feet. Her attention centred on the wading figure, now plain for her to see. A snarl creased her face, Viktoria's own shifted into one of muted desperation, given the limits of her facial features; but it was there, shining in her eyes and traced through the lines of her body, near frantic as she moved for her friend.
But the super soldier was so much faster.
The eyes were not black, or crazed and enraged. They were level, dull almost, though they still held that same shining emerald green. Flat and calculating. Like a machine. She moved for Sarkany with powerful strides that cut through the memory's waters as a knife through hot butter. Her figure loomed above him, though no shadow was cast and a hand reached for him briskly, but without the viciousness of her most wild and untamed self. This was just her job. Large fingers found their way around the seraph's throat and with nary a hint of effort, he was lifted out of the murk, the inconsistency of his form apparently of little hindrance to her grip upon him. Even as he struggled, the Terrine lifted him closer to herself. There were no words, not even a growl. Just steady, clean efficiency.
Viktoria didn't have the energy or inclination to cry out as she watched the scene unfold steadily in front of her. The feline's face had been stripped of all emotion, left only with a laser focus that could not afford to waste energy or falter. If she had allowed herself that, she would lose what small window of opportunity she had left. The super soldier's arm came around Sarkany's neck, pinning him back against her in the crook of her elbow, while the hand that had originally grabbed hold of him let go, to instead span across his eyes and temple. Claws bit in slightly, but they were clearly not the most pressing concern. But rather, how this version of Viktoria had the seraph perfectly positioned to snap his neck. No mess. No fuss. The grip on his head tightened.
A sudden force, not unlike the weight of a freight train, slammed into the pair. Viktoria's voice sounded as she connected, but whatever words they might have been were lost to the collision and ensuing mayhem as all three figures were sent sprawling into the murk. The choke hold on Sarkany released. Snarls and churning water, earth, maybe even the splintering sound of armour, filled the air around him in a confusing maelstrom of sound, sights and pressure upon his flickering form. Another force upon him, all around, an almost crushing weight.
Silence. Stillness. Then, the world began to rise and fall. Rhythmic, gentle. The pressure became firm but not overwhelming. A voice beside him. "I am... sorrry." Half sprawled on a grassy, muddy bank, Viktoria lay curled around Sarkany, holding him against her chest. She was utterly spent, barely able to move even her head. But there was a life in her eyes and a wholeness to her expression, the simmering of a deep-seated but contained rage just beneath the surface. She was here and she was whole. "You arre... ok?"
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Post by MP on Sept 18, 2018 22:39:32 GMT -6
At first he struggled. Sarkany tried to slip the soldier's grasp, to break her hold. His limbs had lost their cunning. He was too slow to avoid her, too crippled now to fight free. She seized him as easily as though he were a pup, and in another moment her arm locked around his neck, choking off his breath. The seraph bared pointed fangs, ink-eyed, trying to brace his legs for leverage as claws stung into his temple. But what could he do, really? Too late to make a door. He couldn't shift here, couldn't hurt her - not even this heartless part of her. And she would make it the rest of the way. Another effort to twist free, because Viktoria and the pup would never forgive him if he went quietly. But a feeling of quiet settled in his chest. If this was how it ended, for her, he thought that would be alright. The claws tensed around him. Sarkany closed his eyes.
Silence.
He woke to a trampled bank. Too many aches to be dead. And there was breathing - his own, and another, deeper one close by. Viktoria's voice came to him belatedly. A question. He processed it slowly. Pulled his left arm out from under him. Reached over to the grey muzzle. One tired pat.
"Yes," he said simply, and smiled. There were the eyes he remembered.
For a moment more, Sarkany lay still. He wanted to lie there. To sleep. The burning was back, a bone-deep ache through his frame, and it would be so nice to close his eyes to it. Just a little farther, he reminded himself.
Keep moving, Hawk.
Another voice, the words clear as the day he'd heard them.
You can't stop here. Not even for a second, or you'll never get up.
"Slave driver," he muttered faintly.
It was only his mind bleeding into Viktoria's, he knew. Memory into memory. But the extra urging was enough to rouse him. In another moment the seraph pushed himself upright, reigning in his thoughts. He huffed shallow breaths as he braced the broken arm. But he was up.
"Where to?" he asked her.
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Post by tsukikoko on Sept 19, 2018 6:44:04 GMT -6
The relief Viktoria felt at Sarkany's response and the light pat to her muzzle was immeasurable. But still her eyes flickered down to his arm, concern darkening her features and pinching her brow. Her mind had damaged him, near killed him. At best the seraph was running on fumes, whereas the scarred feline, though still tired, felt a returning strength and power. Rage, almost comforting in its familiarity, filled an absence inside her Viktoria hadn't even been aware she had had. The tactical assessment of her situation came easier now too; with Sarkany as exhausted as he was, should they call an end to this now? Her psyche was no longer in two pieces, they had acheived at least that much, going much further now might do more harm than good.
With a small huff of breath, Viktoria also pushed herself out of the swamp, feeling steadily more robust and strong with each passing second. Mental fortitude had never been her forte, but being whole again certainly went a long way. The feline again looked at Sarkany as he asked where they would go next, before her gaze turned upwards, watching the edges of her memory as they began to ripple and tear. Wordlessly, she took a hold of her friend, baring her teeth ever so slightly at the invading tendrils. Next second, the watery ground beneath swallowed them up, shielding the pair from that prying, parasitic force.
For a few seconds, darkness enveloped them both, the hissing snarls of crocodiles fading ever quieter into the distance. Silvery light filtered through the world after a time, a breeze ruffled hair and clothing, leaves rustled nearby. Beneath the pair grass emerged, the memory became more solid, yet still the mindscape remained dimly lit. It was soon apparent why, as above their heads thousands of small, twinkling lights carpeted a darkened sky. The moon shone brightly, the source of that eerie, serene half-light. Nearby, a figment of Viktoria lay, her arms behind her head, simply watching the sky. Everything was quite, peaceful, far flung from the previous memory.
The real Viktoria gave a gentle exhale of breath, the earlier snarl again absent from her features and released Sarkany once again to stand and survey the area. "You can continue?" She asked simply, eyes giving one final sweep of the area before turning to face him. The feline indicated his arm, then the entirety of Sarkany's abstract self. "I do not know, ah.. vhat else iz coming. How much, ah, to do left. Can feel... prrresence, still. I am not yet... free, but, iz still imprrrovement." One ear flickered, the humanoid looked uncertain. Questions and exercises of the mind were definitely not a basis of knowledge for her. "Ve can stop. You arrre getting of rrrest, come back laterrr? Orr iz chance to finish zis only now?"
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Post by MP on Sept 19, 2018 10:11:48 GMT -6
Sarkany was watching the sky, his eyes on the perfect shape of the moon. Even in memory, the glow was quieting, peaceful. So different from the sun’s vibrant light. In his homeland, pilgrims had traveled the length of the world to see it.
“We won’t have a better chance,” he said. “This place is a mutual construct. Your mind is translating itself to something concrete to account for my presence. Like drawing a diagram. When I go, we lose this...” He gestured around them with a bob of his shoulder. “Clarity. Maybe your progress, too.”
He looked to the feline and smiled, the old assurance glinting in his eyes.
“Until we see what you’re facing, I’ll stay. I can manage.”
There was no doubt in the seraph’s voice. No trace of hesitation. Here in her mindspace, in a body of her creation, Sarkany was dependent on Viktoria’s perception of him. She must not perceive weakness.
So he didn’t voice the other factors: that he might not be allowed to try again if this attempt failed; that he might not be able to. To the outside observer, Sarkany recovered himself. He smoothed the fatigue from his features, brushed the burning to a far, tactical corner of his mind without so much as a teeter of pupils to betray him. It was the inborn animal stoicism that had saved him time and time again in the wild. He stood there, poised as ever but for the cradled arm, and nodded for Viktoria to continue.
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