1. Home
  2. Casual Roleplay

[IC] Spiritum - Reborn Page 2

Join Status: Full
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Hashih
Raw —
Avatar of Hashih

Hashih

Member Seen 12 mos ago
Kitty felt it as much as every other squad member did as they approached the site and Setzer turned off the engine, deciding that it was safer to walk. She had never been close enough to a damaged mist reactor so there was no telling, at least for her, if the pressure was normal or not. All she knew was based on what she felt – it was suffocating and irritating at the same time. She wanted to pull on the mist and flush it out somewhere else like a mist pump, if there existed such a thing, to alleviate the pressure.

Standing on the truck bed behind the open window, she reached inside the cabin slowly to the two other squad members sitting inside. Her fingers forming claws, Kitty raked her nails at the back of her squad mate’s necks, flexing her fingers as she whispered in her creepy impression voice, “Lorrriiiii… Leeeeee…” Before giggling and leaping off the truck bed away from their reach. “That’s how it feels for me,” she called back to her squad mates. Then added, “Lee, stay close!”

Why did they even choose to stay the night at Sappl Springs? They should have just listened to Gideon and camped in the mountains to roast snakes and get bitten by mosquitos. Even with itchy bumps on their skin, at least they would have spent the night without a crash site to worry about.

Without drawing her weapon like both Setzer and Gideon, and with her thumb and pointing finger pinching her nose, she put her game face on. “They’re here to crash the party, obviously,” Kitty answered dryly. It was not a drill, she kept reminding herself. She took note of the situation as reported by her squad mates. A Vangar airship with the Captain of the Royal Guards as a passenger was gunned down on Rassvet territory. The news on the radio that Galahad was listening to. No, it was too farfetched.

While the others investigated the site, she kept her attention on the surroundings, watching the sky and the outcropping rock and pillars of flames around them for any threat. Whatever punched those holes onto the side of the airship could come at any moment to do a thorough sweep and ensure that the mission was a success, assuming it was not an accident, or Rassvet military attacking a trespassing aircraft. A voice at the back of her head hoped it was neither an accident nor Rassvet, but the voice of reason said she was an idiot. “This is callsign ‘SSOZ’ saying nothing,” she commented absently as she squinted her eyes to the pod.

Note: SSOZ- Stop showing-off, Zimmy
Hidden 6 yrs ago → 6 yrs ago Post by HeySeuss
Raw —
coGM
Avatar of HeySeuss

HeySeuss DJ Hot Carl

Member Seen 2 mos ago
Gideon spent his earliest years in training dealing with Mistburn, when he pushed too hard against a limited power trying to compete with guys like Lee, Zimmy and, particularly, Galahad.

He was not the tank that Setzer or Kitty were. And Lori was an entirely different sort of case, but still a beacon of the power.

But he'd learned something from that suffering about limits, about adapting. It made Gideon into a different type of WARDEN, a dangerous mind. He did better in training, once he learned that he had personal limits.

Others never did. The Citadel never put out stats, though they probably existed in secret, on just how many youngsters in training burned out in every stage of WARDEN training; when they first touched the power, midway through as they learned to use it, and toward the end, when people got overly familiar with it. A WARDEN was trained to use it for all sorts of feats, but underlying that was the constant danger of overdoing it and becoming demented, catatonic, comatose or simply a corpse. Some washouts went into other endeavors, but many wound up in carefully guarded, dead metal-impregnated sanitariums, remote and kept under guard, constantly drugged.

They'd all seen it, and knew the seriousness of Mistburn. What happened to Zimmy was like tripping over a root when you couldn't see, but that really didn't encapsulate the risk. She took it in good faith, considering the need to scout quickly urgent.

With the rifle against his chest, the worn canvas sling holding it there, he found himself under Zimmy's shoulder, bringing himself down to a knee again, but with her supported on his. Only against a specimen like Setzer would Gideon look somewhat normal; he had strong shoulders and a wiry strength, but more endurance, a good amount of it mental, that carried him through the training.

"Got you. Breathe. Go loose."

He knew the feeling of balloon-like tension as limbs felt swollen and leaden, as muscles convulsed and skin felt unbearably taut. Your head hummed and your ears could hear something, but faintly, and you strained to listen. When the Mist burned, one's vision swam with seething, malevolent visions of sparkling power that tempted even more, even as the Gods themselves were saying you dare too much, Mortal! But the lesson was drowned out by the visceral, instinctive reaction of a magic user to use more to fix the problem.

Stage 1 made you feel like shit. Stage 2 was hair of the dog, more of what got you there to keep you going. In the altered logic of the mist, it told you to go ahead and take some more to deal with the effects of taking too much already, like drinking salt water to alleviate thirst, only to find yourself even more parched and thirstier.

If the breathing exercises and self-control mantras didn't work, every WARDEN carried a medkit, and he had his on his hip, on his belt. It held a syringe injector that would fix the effect. Certain types of medication, like adrenaline shots, like insulin and others, could massively offset an underlying condition but too much could kill. And in any case, there were side effects to a potent cocktail of tranq drugs designed to stop a WARDEN in their tracks. It was like a hangover the way a tiger was like a housecat. Zimmy would not be functional if they had to inject. Everyone in the squad had everyone's doses memorized, because it happened before.

Gideon didn't want to go there. "Breathe. Don't take in more. Let it go little by little. Release. Breathe. Release." he told her, using the formulaic mantra, the sort of thing they said to someone starting to go through Mistburn to break through the Mist's little siren song.

And if she didn't come back, he'd have to stick her.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Rtron
Raw —
Avatar of Rtron

Rtron

Member Seen 4 yrs ago
Lori bummed a pistol off of one of the Marshall's rolling her eyes as they left it to her and her friends. WARDEN trained or not, they were still kids. So much for the valor of the Marshalls. She hopped into the back of the truck and listened carefully to Zimmy's report. Great, Mist everywhere. Just what they needed for a squad made up of people who used magic a lot. She spent the truck ride checking over her pistol. She trusted her squad to keep an eye on their six as they made the approach, and didn't want to bet her life on someone else's gun maintenance habits. Fortunately, the Marshall had been evidently rigorous in his maintenance and the pistol was in fine condition.

She hopped out of the truck as they arrived, slapping a hand at Kitty as the girl dragged nails down her neck "I'm going to stab you!" She said as she brought her pistol up. It wasn't serious, but now really wasn't the time for jokes. Her insects flew out of her body and spread around the crater, examining everything. "Be careful, loves."

Lori kept her pistol ready as they fanned out. Reality was warped and there was a lot of devastation, but not much sign of the living. Her breath hissed out as Setzer and Gideon identified one of the bodies as both Vangar and members of the Royal Guard. There was only one reason why those bastards would be this far into Rassvet territory, in something that was more of a luxury liner than a war ship, with the Imperial Royal Guard aboard. She accessed the communication link, scanning the area around her.

"The pod is the only sign of life. Everywhere else is filled with the dead and the destroyed. My scouts can't find anything else. Quick question; Why the fuck is the diplomatic mission all the way out here? And who would shoot them down? Vangar Royal Guard don't just go into Rassvet territory unannounced, on what amounts to a military death trap, and plan to invade. Much less in uniform." She went over with Setzer as he approached the pod, covering him. Gideon would take care of Zimmy, and then she'd smack the idiot of a girl for giving herself mistburn. She smothered that voice in the back of her head, the one who kept telling her that there wasn't anyone out here to tell who was killed by what, and that she could easily finish off whatever survivor's they found. Just like they had finished off those who tried hiding in Astran. "I've got you covered for when you open the pod, Setz."

No. You're better than them. You're not going to do that. She wished she could sound sure to herself.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Mike73
Raw —
Avatar of Mike73

Mike73

Member Seen 5 yrs ago
Lee had looked on in vague disinterest while Gideon dealt with the Marshalls once they arrived. He was glad to see that the others were willing to handle the situation, and didn't even bother with a pretense of offering to talk it out himself. He stayed right in his seat and simply watched and listened, both to the "adult" conversation as well as the topic the squad had already been discussing. Though all conversations ended up getting cut short once the sky lit up with hues of red and orange in the distance. Above anything else, that was what caused Lee to jump to his feet, eyes wide mouth slightly agape in awe as he and everyone else watched an airship go down in flames and audibly explode once it crashed.

He could hear the others around him talking and making plans, but he didn't add anything. He was uncharacteristically quiet, hardly even nodding in affirmation when addressed about any roles he might need to fill during this impromptu mission. Zimmy had zipped ahead and relayed reconnaissance back to the Squad, but the details he heard only made him feel further unnerved. What the hell was going on? Why had an airship been shot down right in the middle of peace talks? He knew battles were still going on out on the front, but this was supposed to be safe territory. They were supposed to be away from all of the war and violence and death. This was their one and only chance at getting away from it all and being normal people for once, or at least pretend to be normal, but it was ruined by a reminder they were all trying to ignore. They weren't normal people, even if for a moment Lee had felt like his former self from ten years ago, there was still no denying the fact that he and all of his squad mates were trained killers who were supposed to be prepared for situations like these. And now they were all heading over to the crash site, and he doubted they would be able to return without a hitch.

"What a goddamn bitch of a situation..." Lee groaned under his breath as everyone minus Zimmy clambered onto the truck. Having reclaimed his seat next to Lori, his attention swapped at random between watching her perform a maintenance check on the gun she borrowed from the Marshalls, to staring out the window at seemingly nothing, to the water bottle in his hands that he'd brought along but had hardly sipped. His mind was playing out dozens of possible scenarios, each one increasingly crazier than the last. He was in a mood he had not been in for a long time, and it was only when he felt Kitty run her nails down the back of his neck that he was finally able to break out of it.

"What the- damn it, Kitty!" Lee complained with a shiver, "You know you can send shivers down my spine any time you want, but now is...oh wow, now is not the time." Halfway through his sentence, he'd felt it. The pull of the Mist here was palpable to an almost absurd degree; he hadn't felt this put off by the Mist even during training exercises. This was something else entirely, and it made him feel like he wasn't meant to be there in that exact spot in that exact moment, and that perhaps he wasn't even actually there. His sense of reality felt skewed, but his grasp on the world around him didn't fade, it just threated to do so.

He slowly took in a deep breath, then just as slowly let it out. He would be fine, he told himself, and nodded when Kitty ordered him to stay close. Chills or not, he usually listened when she told him something, and his trust in her was usually on point. He senses took in his surroundings as he followed along with the group, watching in interest as Mist Pockets distorted reality in quirky little contained bursts, and further looked on in disgust when they ran into the bodies of the deceased. It really seemed to be that there weren't any survivors, as far as anyone could tell at least. That was, until they managed to find an escape pod. Though it was around this time that Zimmy had finally landed and rejoined them, though it was very much a harsh landing.

"Wait, did you seriously already Burn yourself?" Lee asked in surprise, and looked ready to launch a sarcastic remark but was beaten to the punch by Zimmy herself who knew to tell him to shut it ahead of time. Judging by her tone, she really did seem to have some excess Mist buzzing around her, which caused Lee to feel some legitimate concern. She hadn't seemed to hit any of the dangerous stages yet, but even the slightest amount of Mist Burn was absolutely horrendous to have to deal with and horrific to face if left untreated. All of them had gone through it at least once; his own experience with it had been a humbling one, as he'd always been one of the first to roll his eyes any time one of his peers went too far in their Mist usage, but once he'd went through the same thing he was finally able to understand it. Worst part about it for him was that he almost actually liked the feeling of it, despite how unpleasant and torturing it felt. Bringing himself to the brink of reaching the first stage almost felt like hitting the perfect buzz when he drank. It wasn't something he could explain, and it definitely wasn't something he'd ever admitted to anyone, at least while sober.

"Hey, did you get yourself a physical injury there too?" He asked as he approached. With Gideon supporting Zimmy she was having an easier time standing, yet Lee had still noticed her limp. "Can't really do anything about it now, but if you get through the Burn I can at least kill the pain."

He knew the others were more focused on the escape pod at the moment, but he would turn his attention to that once he knew that Zimmy would be ok. He may have been acting overly cautious at this time, but all he wanted was to make sure everyone got out of the crash site the same way they'd gone in.
1x Like Like
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by vietmyke
Raw —
GM
Avatar of vietmyke

vietmyke

Member Online
"Too many questions, not enough answers. Besides, according to the radio, a diplomatic mission was scheduled to arrive, but not for at least another day." Galahad replied idly as the others made their investigations and observations into the bodies and wreckage they had found. It wasn't a particularly long drive to the crash site, and the group of them had a modicum of armament procured from the Marshals. Gideon had snagged a rifle, Lori, a pistol. Barghast squad- aside from Zimmy, who was suffering from minor mist burn, and Gideon who had stopped to help, advanced on the crashed escape pod in a rough semblance of a formation. They were all on edge, what with the bodies, floating rubble, and oppressing mist around them. Galahad in particular was quite sensitive to the overwhelming amount of mist around them, in his mind's eye he could see rolling waves of translucent gas whisping around them.

Each of them viewed mist differently, some heard it, others like Galahad could see and feel the mist as though it were tangible and could be reached out and grabbed at by hand- which was probably why it came to Galahad so much easier than others. While the others investigated the burnt bodies and wreckage, Galahad stayed near the center of their formation, focusing on more important matters.

"Stop." Galahad grunted towards Setzer as an arm grabbed Setzer's shoulder and pushed him over a half step to the right. "Mist Spot." he said simply as a way of explanation.

To most, Mst was invisible, and hard to detect, and even those trained in detecting the Mist could find difficulty tracing it in such a Mist-Hot location- such as the crash they were currently investigating. Some or the larger pockets of Mist were easily recognizable: the floating rubble and intense heat were things that people could easily notice and avoid. The more difficult to spot plumes were the medium strength plumes of Mist. Their energies masked by the intense heat of the crash itself, the Mist spots, while not as deadly as walking face first into a Mist spike, were much more dangerous due to their difficulty to spot and side-effects. Mist burn was an injury commonly experienced by search and rescue crews- and was often their cause of death. Much like radiation, absorbing too much Mist from these invisible plumes would cause nausea and could destroy the body quickly if left untreated.

It also made the use of energy based and ranged spells problematic. A lightning bolt could set off a stray pocket of Mist, and then they'd all be in danger. And since detecting some these Mist pockets were difficult for even dedicated mages, it effectively gimped the range that they could safely fling spells. More of a problem for himself than any of the other members of the team, as no one else was a dedicated spell slinger, at least not in the same vein as himself.

The escape pod was actually a fairly ornate looking thing- or at least it was supposed to be. Much like the rest of this ship, everything about these Vangars seemed to be for form over function: The Class A uniforms, the oppulent ship, hell even the escape pod seemed to have been gilded with some sort of golden metal. It would've been quite nice to look at it it wasn't scorched black, dented to hell and half slagged. Galahad found it hard to believe anything actually survived this fall, but Lori had detected life, so this was their first and best shot at finding out what the hell was going on.

Galahad grabbed at the door of the escape pod- or what was left of it. The handle- hinges, and most of the door itself had been slagged shut. Taking a moment to take stock of the mist around him, Galahad opened his mind's eye. He grabbed at the smallest whisps of mist he could find and weaved them into the door. There was a dull crack, and small bits of metal showered them as the lines of the doorway peaked out of the slagged surface. Taking a step back, he clapped a hand on Setzer's shoulders.

"Alright big guy, your turn."
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by ML
Raw —
Avatar of ML

ML Attempted Polymath

Member Seen 11 mos ago
Good news: she wasn't getting any worse. When Gideon got under her and gave her some support, she was able to grit her teeth and shake off some of the excess burning in her leg. It wasn't pain, not really: it was an insufferable need to move, to use more of the magic surrounding them. At first, it was like a hangover, but mist-users almost instinctively knew that pushing past stage 1 would result in utter glory. Better to nip that urge in the bud now.

"Thanks, Gid," she said quietly, modulating her breathing carefully to keep herself from losing it. The breathing helped, the shaking helped. Anything to get the energy out. She let Kitty's comment roll off her back, this time: no point in acting smug when it was her own damn fault. Let it go, bit by bit, Morander. Easy does it.

They were still at risk here. She couldn't go running around willy-nilly to burn off the energy. One wrong move and she'd enter a Mist spot, and those didn't really give you a choice about burning yourself to a cinder. They did it for you. "I'm good, Gideon. It's not as bad as I first thought." Of course, they couldn't be too careful, but Zimmy was pretty confident in her knowledge of her own body. If not for the manic Mist around them, none of this would have ever happened; she'd simply miscalculated how much energy was in the air.

When Lee walked up to her, she felt a flash of emotion that was...maybe irritation? She'd already said how much of an idiot she was, right? Didn't need it to be rubbed in. Whatever it was, Zimmy looked away, shrugging at his question. "Leg just locked up with the burn. Don't think there's any physical damage. Just my pride."

She got to her feet. No way in hell would she sit around while everyone else risked their lives. Of course she wouldn't use the Mist, but they had weapons around here somewhere. "Be a doll, Lee, and grab something dangerous for us to hold. Y'know, while we meander into, like, a nuclear warhead or whatever." She walked toward the escape pod, each step sturdier than the last.

Just walking it off.
Hidden 6 yrs ago → 6 yrs ago Post by Hexaflexagon
Raw —
coGM
Avatar of Hexaflexagon

Hexaflexagon

Member Seen 7 mos ago
As he came near the crashed escaped craft, Setzer could take in the sheer immensity of it. In length it was as long as two of their trucks, and the height from the bottom of the large circular door to the top was double his own size. Its sides etched with Gryffions - recalling the aerial riders that had given them power long ago. In its totality, it stood in direct contrast to the Vangar's military aesthetic as it existed. It's straight lines and barren rigidity replaced with ornate direction and gentle curves. Meant to exert a different kind of power beyond that of mere might.

Setzer cocked his head back taking stock as he did. Galahad poised and ready at one flank, Lori at the other. The rest bringing up the rear after dealing with the Zimmy situation. The worry that had existed for his friend pushed aside and buried somewhere. Gideon and Lee were better equipped for such tasks and already had it under control. Citadel doctrine taking over - the mission had priority over everything else. If you flinched or hesitated, you'll end up dead. He looked towards Galahad and then towards Lori, giving her a small shrug of 'guess I'm doing this', before raising his blade.

He took a deep breath and focused. He tried to follow the steps that Kitty had taught him. He pictured the blade in his head: it's weight, heft, the feeling of the leather wrapping in his hands. If you wanted to effect something with Mist, you first needed to understand it. To know it like you knew yourself. Then he added new flashes, flashes of warmth and heat: a campfire, a volcano, the sun, the desert. Pulling these two ideas together he breathed outward and willed them to merge. From the outside it looked as if the blade had suddenly been pulled from the forge: as it began to glow white hot.

"And you say you're a bad teacher Kitty." Setzer commented his voice strained, sweat forming at his brow, the sheer concentration required to will his body pulling on him.

The tip of blade found the crack that Galahad had already forced open. A low hiss whispering outward as the superheated blade sank into the slagged over door. Muscles flexed in exertion Setzer began to cut through the door pushing. For all its bluster and force, it was something of a delicate procedure. The towering WARDEN having to keep aware the entire time as he continued to pour mist into his blade. If he slipped up, he risked pumping in too much heat and either wrecking the blade or joining Zimmy with her current issues. Whispering some strange and flowing mantra under his breath to keep his attention. With one final yank, whatever resolve still held by the door broke. Smashing the pommel of the blade into the door it buckled and fell backwards into the pod. Setzer raised a closed fist signaling the others to hold as he peered inside.

The interior was dark save for the faint red glow of a few emergency lights that lined the floor. Uprooted chairs dotted the cylindrical interior. Broken boxes of rations, purified water, and other supplies lay on the ground, their contents scattered across the floor. And strangest of all there seemed to be no bodies that Setzer could make out in the darkness.

"Then who launched the damn thing?" Setzer muttered to himself.

Yet there was something there. A feeling he had felt as soon as the door had opened hitting him like a cool breeze on a hot summer's day - Mist. A concentrated pocket that somehow was more overpowering than the background residue of the explode reactor. Almost like Setzer was looking at a thermonuclear explosion with thermal goggles on. A constant perpetual background hum that seemed to hang in the space that the pod encompassed.

"We got a reallyyyyyy big Mist pocket here. Keep on your toes fol-"

Before Setzer could finish he saw it out of the corner of his eye. A strange contorted glowing tentacle of energy materializing from the darkness. Instinct and training kicking in the warrior drove his blade downward. Meeting the tendril just before it was able to strike him in the chest, severing it in half and making it evaporate. As soon as the first was dispatched another follow and two more after that.

He began to whirl his blade like a windmill in a large arc. He was quick manging to catch the three tendrils in the flurry. But they turned out only to be a distraction.

Something else moved the darkness Before Setzer knew what was happening an elbow slammed into a pressure point in his leg causing it to lock and buckle. His balance thrown off, he began to teeter backwards. Quickly he brought his blade down slamming it into the ground to anchor himself. As he did so the figure sprang upward and through the darkness Setzer could see the outline of a fist. Muscle tensed braced for impact he stood ready to take the blow. The fist collided with his sternum and there was a small explosion of Mist upon contact. Setzer's eyes widen in shock as he felt himself pushed backwards with the blow, his blade being pulled from the ground as he fell backwards.

The figure followed through driving a knee into Setzer’s gut as they landed atop of him. Now free from the confines of the escape craft the others now had a better view. There kneeling atop of Setzer was a girl, maybe their age, maybe a year or two younger. Black hair caked with sweat and blood. A simple white undershirt stained red clinging to her frame, pants ripped and torn. One hand was stretched down towards Setzer, where it gripped some kind of trench knife made out of the same glowing material as the tendrils that had begun the assault, its blade held to Setzer’s neck. The WARDEN for his part kept eye contact upwards while still trying to reach for his knocked away blade whose handle he could barely graze with the tips of his fingers. Her other hand was stretched outwards palm forward towards her new foes, Mist crackling and churning around it. The strange mist surge that Setzer had felt before getting ever higher making nearby mist pockets begin to detonate from the overload.

“Any of you move..... and Muscles here... and..... and everybody else dies!” The girl spoke in the harsh and foreign Vangar tongue, a language thankfully taught in the Citadel. Her voice was shaking caught somewhere between a yell and a sob.


Hidden 6 yrs ago → 6 yrs ago Post by ML
Raw —
Avatar of ML

ML Attempted Polymath

Member Seen 11 mos ago
Zimmy stiffened at the sudden outburst of Vangarian. She hadn't been expressly listening for it, only catching the words for "move" and "death", present-tense verbal form. She stood ramrod straight, her mind desperately searching back through half a decade of instruction. She'd taken years of Vangarian, and she'd been good, too.

"Fuck, uh..." she stumbled to her feet, pleased that she didn't stumble. "Wait!", she shouted in the foreign tongue, dashing toward the source of the disturbance. Shit, had she said wait, or waltz? They'd always confused her--no, she was sure she'd spoken correctly.

Nearly clipping Galahad as she mushed her way to the front, she bent over and panted at the sudden exertion, blinking away the sudden pain in her head as much as she could. "Not...enemies," she panted in Vangarian, though her mind was alight and nimble. It danced from word to word, touching off the neurons which held the language captive within. "We're just...dear lord, okay...We're just passing through." When she caught her breath, she stood up straight again and glanced at Gideon. They'd been Vangarian study-buddies as long as they'd been in the same squad. Mister Tactical Royalty, and her. He was far better at the language than she, despite her many months of practice.

The look was hopefully enough to convey some meaning without words. Meaning like how the hell, who the hell, what the hell? and--more to the point--You should probably start talking now before I say the wrong word or accent and get us all blown to hell, thank you. Well, it would hopefully convey a little of that.
Hidden 6 yrs ago → 6 yrs ago Post by Rtron
Raw —
Avatar of Rtron

Rtron

Member Seen 4 yrs ago
Lori tensed as Setz finally pried the capsule open. Whoever was inside of it was going to be very unhappy, given all that had apparently transpired, if they were alive at all. It appeared that her worry was all for nothing, as the only thing inside of the pod was a mist pocket she could feel from where she was. It was like a dull pressure against her 'Mist Sense' (the name she attributed to her unique way of perceiving Mist. Its likely just a side affect of her body getting ready to use magic as her insects notice and get ready to process Mist). Whoever had launched it had either died before they could clamber in, or it had been launched by accident during the attack, dooming whoever it was meant for. She began to lower her pistol, ready to begin the search for more bodies and evidence of what happened, when Setzer came under attack.

In a startling matter of moments, Setzer was on the ground, a magical knife against his neck. The girl, looking like she had just been through hell (which isn't surprising considering she fell from a flaming airship) yelled something at them. Lori had no idea what. She had never taken an Vangarian classes. You didn't need to know what people were saying to kill them, and if they had to take prisoners she would have just taken them to someone who actually knew how to speak the language and then left. While lacking a common language, the intent was fairly obvious.

'Don't move or he'll die', or 'Surrender or he'll die' or something along those themes. The Mist began to increase, the pressure growing around her as Mist Pockets exploded and the girl readied some very powerful spell. Lori's eyes narrowed and she glared at the girl on top of Setzer. The insects around her began to buzz angrily, sensing the anger at the girl and worry for Setz. Lori suppressed her first urge to shoot the bitch as soon as she had a chance. Setzer was still under her knife and she didn't know if any of them had shields strong enough to tank whatever the girl had planned. Lori's mouth opened, likely to open some sort of furious tirade.

Before Lori could do anything Zimmy ran forward. What the hell is this stupid girl doing? Lori seethed, watching as she stumbled through the foreign words (presumably to try and calm the situation) and haphazardly moved forward. She's still dealing with Mistburn! Still, the pause gave her enough time to reign in her first angry reaction. If only just. I'm definitely going to smack the ever living shit out of you when we're done here Zim!

"Like hell we're just passing through! We came here to save her ungrateful ass!" Lori snapped, gun still trained on what seemed to be the sole survivor. "Gideon, kindly inform this bitch that we're here to save her and any other survivors, and that if she so much as cuts him I'm going to put a bullet in her skull." While talking, she focused her magic. The dirt beneath Setzer's blade quietly shifted, wrapping around the hilt and pulling the handle to his grasping hand. She certainly wasn't going to leave his survival to some Vangar whore who tried to kill people who rescued her.

"And ask her what the fuck the diplomatic mission is doing over here!"
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Hashih
Raw —
Avatar of Hashih

Hashih

Member Seen 12 mos ago
It was the pungent smell of burnt remains that Katarina was trying to save herself from when she pinched her nose and allowed herself to breath through her mouth. It didn’t take long, however, before she tasted the bitter flavor of death, which was like charcoal grilled meat only that it was more charcoal than meat. That and the contorted reality formed by the unusual concentration of Mist convinced her that they should be as quick as possible. Gather information then leave was the summary of a recon mission. But there was still one detail that they had yet to open – the opulent looking escape pod.

Lori detected the possibility of life, and she was usually correct in those things. However, to be honest, Kitty was not too worried about what or who was inside the pod, what kept her on the edge was the reason why the aircraft was on the ground in the first place. Besides, there were six capable WARDENS focused on the front. At least one of them should take care of their back side. With that reasoning in mind, Kitty turned away from what came to be the focal point of their mission just as Setzer commented about her teaching methods. With her back on him and her eyes up the sky, she gave him a thumbs up. It was actually Galahad’s methods – he taught her that trick.

The night sky was calm and quiet save for the crackle of fire and the low hiss of metal yielding to the monster of a sword that Setzer wielded. It would be fine, she told herself. It would be over soon, the stench, the mist, the uneasy feeling of being on a real-life field mission for the first time. She hoped the Marshalls who asked for their papers earlier that night had already filed a report and that backup was on the way.

Then a wave, like cold water washing over her body, went through her and made her gasp. It was followed shortly by a warning about Mist pocket which was cut short. Kitty quickly turned on her heel, taking two long strides towards the scene even before she knew what was happening. The unpleasant scent forgotten, her right arm stretched to one side as she willed a katana to materialize in her hand.

Instinctively, the first person her eyes searched for was Lee, made sure his position was not compromised, before she turned her attention to the glimmering tendril of whatever that was. Setzer took care of it with a swing of his blade, but failed to anticipate a shadow, which Kitty also noticed not soon enough to warn her comrade. The two-hit combo subsequently brought the biggest of the all to the ground and landing on top of him was a girl screaming in Vangarian.

Whatever the black-haired survivor said did not stop the WARDEN, only because she did not understand a word. Katarina’s Vangarian vocabulary was limited to just three phrases that she learned from Gideon and Zimmy, none of which was appropriate for the occasion. Muscle memory took over despite the increased pressure from the Mist. She stepped her right foot forward and was poised to throw the thin blade like a javelin. It had almost left her hand when Zimmy more or less limped to the front.

Shit!

With all that she had, she willed the Mist to eat the blade whole. It vanished a few inches from her friend’s head. Thankfully. She could feel her blood pounding in her head as Lori’s voice screamed something at someone. It was a very near miss. Kitty could have been the first member of the squad who actually took a person’s life – a friend’s life. It was not a pleasant thought.

Weaponless again, but not at all defenseless, she continued to Morander’s side then snaked an arm around the younger woman’s back to support her. “I got you this time,” she whispered, relieved. Then, frowning, she asked, “But, what did she say? Do I high five her?”

The Mist was not as tame as she would have wanted it. She felt it move in waves around them, not the calm soothing blanket of power, but a turbulent current like a river during a storm. She’d force it to bend to her will, but it never worked that way. Instead, Kitty prepared to draw her weapon once more and waited for the opportunity to use it.

“There’s only one of you and seven of us,” she attempted conversion with the Vangar in a matter-of-fact tone using her mother tongue, not quite caring if the woman understood.
Hidden 6 yrs ago → 6 yrs ago Post by HeySeuss
Raw —
coGM
Avatar of HeySeuss

HeySeuss DJ Hot Carl

Member Seen 2 mos ago
The Mist exploded overhead, causing him to flatten to avoid the shrapnel from that, hissing through the air. He managed not to be perforated with hot metal, but it was a close thing. Along the way, other pockets erupted. Even so, while prone, he got his rifle into position, both eyes open, irons on the two, but he held fire even before the talking started. Others were moving into their positions, even as they tried to reason through the situation.

He knew the calculus; one girl, throwing power around. Setzer, held hostage.

As the others started to talk and otherwise address the girl, he took the time to get on one knee and assume a firing position, the stock of his rifle nestled into his shoulder as he regulated his breathing. This was no sniper rifle and Setzer was so damn big that this girl practically was hidden behind him anyway. He didn't have a particularly good shot, not that he was in a rush to take it. It was not the optimal situation to be taking shots, even if he was damned good with a rifle.

Unlike most Wardens, he didn't need optics for easy firing. He compensated subtly, using minuscule amounts of the Mist to modify the visual effect that replicated the effect of magnification and backlighting and even target designation. It was minor trickery, but it assisted in a well-trained rifleman's sense of aiming the weapon, particularly welcome when under an actual threat with actual adrenaline.

All the same, he'd spent more time in Vangar courses than Zimmy or at least retained it; his training reflected the interests he had. He wanted to do recon and light infantry work, and he'd deliberately adopted the courseload that would put him into that line of work. He was extremely fluent with the language, which the Citadel taught with a junker-class accent, like a proper von type, educated, collegiate. Useful for debriefing Vangar officers if the need were ever to arise.

"We are Wardens on leave, you are on Rassvet soil and this is a search and rescue operation. That is, of course, unless you decide to actually harm our friend, in which case you cease to be the subject of a rescue operation and then become an enemy combatant. Your choice, fraulein. We are not the enemy unless you decide to make it that way."

His Vangar was cold and aristocratic, and he was casual in flicking the safety selector switch on his rifle down to 'fire', which had a very distinctive 'click' sound, as if to say, think carefully about the next move, since you're speaking so glibly of moves.

"I just told the bitch that this is a search and rescue and that if she does anything to Setzer, we're slotting her," he added, to the others in Rass as he covered his sector. She couldn't watch seven at once. So he locked eyes with her. His were hard, especially behind the sights of a rifle.

Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Mike73
Raw —
Avatar of Mike73

Mike73

Member Seen 5 yrs ago
Lee visibly relaxed when Zimmy assured him that she was fine. He was of course still somewhat tense due to the situation they were all in, but the situation felt a lot more under control now that he knew that everyone was still ok. In fact, he felt loose enough to roll his eyes at her last sarcastic remark; it was classic Zimmy, which meant there wasn't anything to worry about for now. He felt compelled to fire back a joke of his own, but the second he went to open his mouth all hell broke loose as Setzer and Galahad finally pried open the escape pod. At first there seemed to be nothing but another concentrated Mist pocket in there, but in a flash Setzer was pinned to the ground as a woman held a magic trench knife to his throat.

Lee felt like the knife was held to his own throat as it tightened in fear. Not much ever scared him, mainly because he never gave enough energy and commitment to care about much in the first place. He could straight face many of the more perilous drills and simulations back at the Citadel, and he'd been infamous for displaying a humorous outlook towards his training at the worst of moments. But this was a very real threat that he was now facing, and his squadmate and friend that he'd known for years was very much in danger. Setzer was one hell of a tough bastard, and for him to be taken down so easily...well, it was a wake-up call. The past decade's worth of training hadn't been for shits and giggles, they all being prepared for war and all of them could die once deployed. And Lee was now realizing that he hadn't really acknowledged the reality of that until this moment.

"He's not dying," Lee muttered as he kept his eyes on the knife held to Setzer's neck. He wasn't saying that to anyone in particular, if anything he was just saying it as a self-affirmation, or perhaps even a promise. Instinctively he rummaged through a mental list of spells and effects that could possibly help here, but due to the woman's knife appearing to be magic-based he doubted he could affect her weapon so easily, at least not directly. He did have a spell or two that could protect him, but the others were trying negotiation tactics first and he didn't want to set the woman off. The best he could do for now was be prepared to step in as backup in case the confrontation went south, and so he focused with a spell in mind so he would be available to cast it on a moment's notice.

"Hang in there Setzer," Lee told him, keeping his voice calm as the others tried to communicate with the woman, "And for fuck's sake please don't pull something stupid and flirt with her. There's a painkiller with your name on it if you manage to think with the right head."
↑ Top
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet