I second this sensation of a hurricane of time hitting.
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Apologies for a brief disappearance there. I haven’t turned my computer on in a while besides checking for bills and emails. I ought to have some time tonight or tomorrow to dust my keyboard off.
Yeah the ‘Going Juggernaut’ idea is definitely a part of that folklore of the ordinarily handy and peaceful house helper turning into a violent creature.
Zaraknvyr and Fyodor performing Tom and Jerry antics to avoid each other is a mood.
Nah, when I get the next post out D'arcy will find that amenable and will have the contract drafted with an up-front stipend.
Zavakri has the most insane LinkedIn of anyone on this realm.
"Fuck."
Lictor studied the HUD in his vision. The Sparrows. The downed Grizzly. Zhegiang's solo fight. The scattering of their forces. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. This wasn't what they pulled him out of retirement for. The rifle in his grip trembled from the strength of his fingers. The triggerguard shattered, the stock bent, the barrel twisted, and his only outlet for the broiling rage within him was to hurl the now jagged and useless firearm like a meteoric javelin into the boldly leaping body of a particularly cavalier Legionnaire. The way it popped like a balloon scarcely soothed the man. Pressure and duty were compounding upon him. He was pulled to watch over one girl.
He slapped his headset. Toggled his communications to the full company.
"The Lictor speaks."
His voice sounded through the company in a short, authoritative, growl. Asserting itself over the chaotic chatter of firing lines and scrambling orders.
"Playtime is over. We've got aerials and dwellers. We've got downed Pilots. We've got a lot of fucking problems, kids, so I don't want to hear anymore of this panicking bullshit on the comms."
As he spoke, he climbed. Up Kyra's waist, side, and shoulder. Then, even as she ran and maneuvered her arms, he climbed along the right arm with ease and simplicity begat from unbridled strength and experience.
"We need that Grizzly back on its feet, and we need the sky cleared so Eight-Ball isn't playing a game of Bad Touch with those Sparrows. Here's our game plan people; Mechs back to the line, clear space for the infantry. Infantry, focus on those Dwellers, I don't want any more soldiers dragged below ground. That Outlander is mine."
He toggled the communications back to Kyra directly.
"Fastball special, aim for-" He gazes that way. Eyes peering beyond the failure of his technical visor to detect the hidden outline of the Outlander. Beyond the tide of pawns. To the tell-tale shimmer of the Constellation Killer. A concealment that would have been right at home on Thrax. A concealment that Lictor had come to know well. He pointed and pinged its exact location on the HUD, sharing it to Kyra. "-Don't think. Just throw."
He released his grip and allowed his body to yield to her control. Carnifex fell from his shoulder and into his hand. As he gripped the sword and loosened its shroud, he toggled his headset back to the command frequency. He did not speak. Then, the world moved around him. The stress of the G-forces on his body were surmountable only by Constellation; the nanomachines within his body surged to pump blood and alleviate pressure, and the passive resilience of his anomaly and training showed themselves on this day. Through the air, a golden arc carved as Carnifex tore free of its sheathe. Radiant energy built within the blade, flaming from the wind resistance across its depleted uranium edge, colliding with a near-invisible barrier with a cataclysmic shattering sound that exploded along the battlefield- only drowned out by Lictor's landing, which itself carved a trench across the ground.
The heavy sheathe was held in his left hand, braced to slow his landing and carving its own mark upon the earth. Lictor ducked down as Teddy's Prometheus cannon carved its insane fury across the field, but as its arc passed overhead Lictor surged forth. The only sign of his initial strike was one of the scything limbs of the Outlander gushing blood from his misaligned slash. At last, he spoke again;
"Teddy, I want that Grizzly on its feet now. Zhegiang, I want you running interference for Eight-ball. You're the best one we've got for those Sparrows. Alto, keep evading but direct your fire at the breaches. Our boys on the ground need their personal space."
His steps brought him forth to where the Outlander had been- but his instincts brought the blazing blade up in a whirl. A scythed limb erupted from the ground, and Carnifex scarcely caught the anterior edge of a decapitating blow. The monstrous Outlander rose up from the ground, having buried itself in ambush after Lictor's barrier-shattering-strike. Lictor rose with it, riding a tide of earth and abberant strength upwards. Carnifex did not yield even as the powerful limb swiped upwards. Lictor was thrown briefly airborne, where his immense skill and talents held little importance. The Outlander continued to rise, its disk-head cascading loose dirt as it regained its limb from the fiery embrace of Carnifex. It swiped again, and this time Lictor's block sent him slamming into the earth in a cloud of dirt. He grunted into the comms- and the explosive glow of Carnifex disappeared.
The Outlander dove for the kill. The dust settled, revealing Lictor on one knee, Carnifex sheathed- but the defensive coating of the shroud was raised. The scything limb had sliced into the cape, but the sheathe itself held against the blow. Lictor's other arm had risen and grabbed the scythe willingly, blood pouring down his arm as he gripped the wicked blade- refusing to permit his opponent to budge. The sheathe fell. Lictor rose, pulling the Abberant down by its sole bladed limb, and meeting the Outlander's ridiculous disk-head in its downward trajectory with an uppercut that would have put the Grizzly back on its feet. Its head snapped back, but still Lictor did not release its scything arm. He yanked again, pulling the creature down once more-
This time his fist penetrated into its skull. He grunted into the communications channel again, wrenching around to lift the creature by both arm and head, slamming its body down into the earth. His foot braced against its shoulder as it struggled beneath him. Wordlessly he pulled. Pulled. Pulled. Pulled until its remaining scything arm was wrenched out of its socket and torn free from its body, then he slammed it down and impaled the aberrant through its core upon its own limb.
"I don't take questions. Fucking move, all of you." He growled into the communicator. "You know what to do. That Scorpion is priority after the Sparrows. I want to see teamwork in this outfit."
Carnifex rose into his hand as he leapt up onto the Grizzly's shoulder. Clearing off the mech was his next course of action, with pistol and blade until Teddy could rise. His eyes were focused on the HUD, where he noted Dombay and Aissi's positions. They were still. Very still. His fury surged from infernal bonfire into frigidly lethal edge. These pawns on the Grizzly did not stand a chance.
Lictor studied the HUD in his vision. The Sparrows. The downed Grizzly. Zhegiang's solo fight. The scattering of their forces. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. This wasn't what they pulled him out of retirement for. The rifle in his grip trembled from the strength of his fingers. The triggerguard shattered, the stock bent, the barrel twisted, and his only outlet for the broiling rage within him was to hurl the now jagged and useless firearm like a meteoric javelin into the boldly leaping body of a particularly cavalier Legionnaire. The way it popped like a balloon scarcely soothed the man. Pressure and duty were compounding upon him. He was pulled to watch over one girl.
He slapped his headset. Toggled his communications to the full company.
"The Lictor speaks."
His voice sounded through the company in a short, authoritative, growl. Asserting itself over the chaotic chatter of firing lines and scrambling orders.
"Playtime is over. We've got aerials and dwellers. We've got downed Pilots. We've got a lot of fucking problems, kids, so I don't want to hear anymore of this panicking bullshit on the comms."
As he spoke, he climbed. Up Kyra's waist, side, and shoulder. Then, even as she ran and maneuvered her arms, he climbed along the right arm with ease and simplicity begat from unbridled strength and experience.
"We need that Grizzly back on its feet, and we need the sky cleared so Eight-Ball isn't playing a game of Bad Touch with those Sparrows. Here's our game plan people; Mechs back to the line, clear space for the infantry. Infantry, focus on those Dwellers, I don't want any more soldiers dragged below ground. That Outlander is mine."
He toggled the communications back to Kyra directly.
"Fastball special, aim for-" He gazes that way. Eyes peering beyond the failure of his technical visor to detect the hidden outline of the Outlander. Beyond the tide of pawns. To the tell-tale shimmer of the Constellation Killer. A concealment that would have been right at home on Thrax. A concealment that Lictor had come to know well. He pointed and pinged its exact location on the HUD, sharing it to Kyra. "-Don't think. Just throw."
He released his grip and allowed his body to yield to her control. Carnifex fell from his shoulder and into his hand. As he gripped the sword and loosened its shroud, he toggled his headset back to the command frequency. He did not speak. Then, the world moved around him. The stress of the G-forces on his body were surmountable only by Constellation; the nanomachines within his body surged to pump blood and alleviate pressure, and the passive resilience of his anomaly and training showed themselves on this day. Through the air, a golden arc carved as Carnifex tore free of its sheathe. Radiant energy built within the blade, flaming from the wind resistance across its depleted uranium edge, colliding with a near-invisible barrier with a cataclysmic shattering sound that exploded along the battlefield- only drowned out by Lictor's landing, which itself carved a trench across the ground.
The heavy sheathe was held in his left hand, braced to slow his landing and carving its own mark upon the earth. Lictor ducked down as Teddy's Prometheus cannon carved its insane fury across the field, but as its arc passed overhead Lictor surged forth. The only sign of his initial strike was one of the scything limbs of the Outlander gushing blood from his misaligned slash. At last, he spoke again;
"Teddy, I want that Grizzly on its feet now. Zhegiang, I want you running interference for Eight-ball. You're the best one we've got for those Sparrows. Alto, keep evading but direct your fire at the breaches. Our boys on the ground need their personal space."
His steps brought him forth to where the Outlander had been- but his instincts brought the blazing blade up in a whirl. A scythed limb erupted from the ground, and Carnifex scarcely caught the anterior edge of a decapitating blow. The monstrous Outlander rose up from the ground, having buried itself in ambush after Lictor's barrier-shattering-strike. Lictor rose with it, riding a tide of earth and abberant strength upwards. Carnifex did not yield even as the powerful limb swiped upwards. Lictor was thrown briefly airborne, where his immense skill and talents held little importance. The Outlander continued to rise, its disk-head cascading loose dirt as it regained its limb from the fiery embrace of Carnifex. It swiped again, and this time Lictor's block sent him slamming into the earth in a cloud of dirt. He grunted into the comms- and the explosive glow of Carnifex disappeared.
The Outlander dove for the kill. The dust settled, revealing Lictor on one knee, Carnifex sheathed- but the defensive coating of the shroud was raised. The scything limb had sliced into the cape, but the sheathe itself held against the blow. Lictor's other arm had risen and grabbed the scythe willingly, blood pouring down his arm as he gripped the wicked blade- refusing to permit his opponent to budge. The sheathe fell. Lictor rose, pulling the Abberant down by its sole bladed limb, and meeting the Outlander's ridiculous disk-head in its downward trajectory with an uppercut that would have put the Grizzly back on its feet. Its head snapped back, but still Lictor did not release its scything arm. He yanked again, pulling the creature down once more-
This time his fist penetrated into its skull. He grunted into the communications channel again, wrenching around to lift the creature by both arm and head, slamming its body down into the earth. His foot braced against its shoulder as it struggled beneath him. Wordlessly he pulled. Pulled. Pulled. Pulled until its remaining scything arm was wrenched out of its socket and torn free from its body, then he slammed it down and impaled the aberrant through its core upon its own limb.
"I don't take questions. Fucking move, all of you." He growled into the communicator. "You know what to do. That Scorpion is priority after the Sparrows. I want to see teamwork in this outfit."
Carnifex rose into his hand as he leapt up onto the Grizzly's shoulder. Clearing off the mech was his next course of action, with pistol and blade until Teddy could rise. His eyes were focused on the HUD, where he noted Dombay and Aissi's positions. They were still. Very still. His fury surged from infernal bonfire into frigidly lethal edge. These pawns on the Grizzly did not stand a chance.
My retort is, humbly
boop
I do not wish to imagine or inflict upon anyone else the social media accounts belonging to the Drow.
That boop haunts my memories. There was a point in time when my wife and I played Overwatch fervently. I'm talking, maxed out battlepasses free-to-play levels of daily play. Heck we got started when it was still Overwatch 1, but late in its lifespan. So 'Boop' and 'And Dey Say' echo in my mind.
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