Krayzikk

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

Starting to sound like a broken record. Sorry for my disappearing act, some start of semester complications. Should be back on track, working up a post.

Advance on Distant Proxima (Mecha RPG)

There we go. Sorry again for the delay. It still came out a little lesser than I would have liked, but I'm a man of my word (as much as possible) and it's late. I might have some typos to fix tomorrow.

Advance on Distant Proxima (Mecha RPG)

---

<<Danger close confirmed. Contact in…>> Eyes flicked over the display Starlight had displayed as soon as she said the word contact, flashing a countdown timer in decreasing rapidly. <<Fifteen seconds.>>

“Sustained power to the Lance, 80% of nominal. Two second duration from mark.” She continued, the parameters passed into the Voyager and parsed into real preparations by her diligent digital assistant. All aspects she could have handled manually, but the Voyager had been built to run without her input while she was asleep. A combat scenario was a different beast, but those same preparations were more than enough to run power allocation on voice command. She was thinking about technical details to avoid considering the implications of her situation, she knew. Avoiding the thought of firing her first shot in anger. Avoiding the consideration that two of her allies were going to be awful close when she did.

”Standing by G-Lancier, Arty.”

But there wasn’t any time for that.

The shoulder verniers fired as one, brutally slashing her pace and whipping her torso up to face Bandit One at a forty five degree angle half a second before the lower verniers kicked in to steady her position. At the moment the angle was right her finger slammed the trigger home and the computer fired exactly as programmed. Power gathered at the crystalline emitter on its chest and for a second it glowed like a red sun. A beam as wide as the Voyager’s torso issues forth making its frame thrum with sheer power, striking from above like an avenging angel into the Bandit’s head and beyond into the ground. It was obscured by light, light that sparked and crackled across the shields put forth by Aurora and the Casket to shield them from the elemental fury unleashed upon an alien foe. The air rippled and shimmered with heat, the sand below its form turned to glass. Elation overcame her concern for a moment, as the beam simply ceased, and-

Sickly gold struck, and she snapped the G-Aegis up barely in time. The light washed along its crimson surface, crackling violently and leeching color from the defense where it touched. Bandit One remained, worse for wear.... But angry. Much of its gleam had been scorched away, its head deformed, the spines upon its back glowing red-hot but the intelligence in its gleaming optics remained and it had already struck back. The G-Aegis defended against energy, but such a consistent attack took power to stop. If she couldn’t make it lighten up…

Fox, thankfully, solved that problem for her. His darts burrowed, more deeply than the bullets had, into the monster’s surface and when they detonated the beam stopped. One of its spines bent at an unnatural angle, the material at its base clearly compromised. Its tail lashed the sand in aggravation, the rumbling growing louder and more violent still. It lifted Aurora effortlessly and slammed the Orbital to the ground, releasing its grip but stomping on the shielded machine with a large, clawed foot. And it remained there, pinning Volana’s machine and trying to grind it into the crystallized soil beneath its feet. Its tail whipped around, seeking to wrap around the Casket’s leg where it would surely throw the other Orbital around with similar ease. As for Fox its remaining spine glowed and fired, lacerating the soil where he had been mere moments before.

Artemie flicked a glance over her power reserves, unhappy at the drain it had taken to block the shot. She’d have to be more conscientious of her power use. It didn’t look like her best gun had done as much damage as she wanted, either, and that was worrying. But she needed to help Volana get free if they were going to get anywhere.

…

Ah, hell.

<<Aurora, Casket, get ready. I think we gotta get this thing on the ground.>>

Voyager dropped like a stone, and then fired its thrusters again just barely off of the ground. From its right forearm the gatling deployed, and even as the Voyager’s powerful shoulders slammed into the creature’s midsection with as much force as she could manage she jammed the gun into its side and depressed the trigger. She hoped- she prayed- that the impact, and whatever force Aurora could add to it from below, could unbalance the beast. Maybe if they could get it on the ground they could overwhelm it.

Bandit Two was more frustrated, if it could feel such a thing. The comparatively diminutive Orbital still survived within its reach, stopping with speed and skills what it could never have stopped by force alone. The Bedwyr was beyond reach, and though the others were not beyond its reach they were clearly further from danger. It roared as bullets and rockets connected, bellowing its displeasure into the alien atmosphere, but when the Keraunos struck it truly faltered.

Less at the impact, though it wasn’t without effect. The slug pierced deeply into the region abraded by Bedwyr and Odysseus’ explosive fire, force driving the dense round through armor and into its target. For its penetration, however, nothing seemed to break; until the EMI hit as well. Bandit Two rocked with the impact like a reeling fighter, but it didn’t correct itself. No, it couldn’t; something in its eyes was amiss, and as its balance slipped past the point of no return it fell. It caught itself on a clawed hand, but sluggishly. It moved almost as though concussed though whatever was wrong was correctly itself. The spines on its back glowed again, this time targeting Ajax alone with a torrent of energy that did not cease its assault. Holden’s blow had made him a threat, a threat that the alien would not stop until it had removed. Not unless it was stopped before it could recover or before it succeeded.

---

Far above the AO another team sortied from the hangar. A unit of Hawks, called ‘Tiger’ by long tradition for any squadron consisting solely of the venerable X Corp Orbital, carried out a combat launch. Minimal spacing, rapid timing control; vastly more room for error, but fast enough to put six aircraft and their six artillery compatriots, secured to the Hawks by magnetic clamps, into space in just over two minutes. The Hawks and their passengers swarmed into space, four pairs to meet the Starstrike and its protectee as they cleared they atmosphere and two moving ahead of the Pandora to sweep space for the source of the unknown transmission.

“Sir!” One of the officers whirled, yanking a headset off of their ears with a wince just as his entire console disappeared into a rapidly changing array of symbols. The moment the reactors went to full power the comms array cut out entirely, filled with a piercing static that blocked any other signal from getting through. A second later the communications station became unresponsive, followed by the sensors, the tactical controls, and a myriad of other, more minor systems. Helm remained intact, weapons control remained intact, but the ship was deaf, blind, and mute.

“It’s…” The officer at the Electronic Warfare station began, and gathered her thoughts before continuing. “Something is writing to our computers at an incredible rate. Their processors are working flat out and still heating up. It’s coming in from the comm array and accessing our databanks directly, and that shouldn’t be possible. The systems aren’t networked any more than they have to be. It’s passing through all sorts of intermediate systems just to get there, sir.”

“We had multiple point sources appearing up ahead before our sensors cut out, the COO is directing Starstrike to join Tigers Five and Six ahead in determining what we’re dealing with. The short range transmitters down in the hangar are still working, but I don’t know how long we’re going to be out of commission, sir.”

Secundi Lux

Never did Rivka think something could be worse than a hospital, but the path that brought her towards destiny proved otherwise. Winding through level after level, deep underground past checkpoint after checkpoint was a single white, sterile room where she would be forged.

Dear God she hated it.

The doors closed behind her and something changed when they did. She felt it at once, a crawling feeling in her core that she had become something other than a person to her caretakers. That she was placing her life in the hands of people who had in that moment classified her as not a person but raw material; the ingot that could, if they did their job correctly, be crafted into a weapon. The critical component of a system known as an Ars Magi, the vessel that could produce a soldier. Through their hands passed her life, and though it was precious its value came from what she was. The quirk of genetics, or environment, or fate that let her use Nox without becoming like the creatures that had assailed her.

What came next was out of her hands. As soon as the sedative hit her bloodstream she was out, and anything that happened after that was beyond her awareness let alone her power. The needle slipped through her skin easily, with practiced precision secured in a single motion to her skin with an adhesive. The antibiotic came first and she had never known that her veins could burn from the inside. Her warning was curt and cursory from the anesthesiologist, and she could see at the edge of her vision her heart rate tick up on the machine that monitored her vitals. The white coats prepped the tools of their trade around her, gleaming in the cold light and she wished more than anything for company. Someone to speak to her, even about something mundane and foolish. To acknowledge her existence and provide the reassurance that she would still be herself when she awoke.

But they were as cold as the light when the sedative hit her system and seemed simply to switch her off.

---

Awareness felt like rebirth, a renewal born of will alone. Like pulling the disparate fragments of her being together again when she had feared, deep inside, that she might never wake again. Her own essence felt strange and unfamiliar, her hazy thoughts registering the return to her mortal form a step removed from the sensation as though her own frame was that of a stranger. She felt wrong, a revenant born from science and not from magic, helpless in her own body. In her mind’s eye she saw a monster with her face, sickly, corrupted eyes where her own should have been. Her breath caught in her throat.

And then it passed.

The next breath found its grip, air cold and sterile that felt still more refreshing than any before filled her lungs. Fear cleared not with chill but with warmth. A warmth that had settled into every fiber of her being, not burning like the IV before it but nourishing. As though every cell was refreshed, forged anew in the primordial fires of creation. At the center of it all, at her center, she could feel it. It drew her focus like gravity, a single point within her that seemed contained the same fire that had remade her into something… More. She was still Rivka Sokolov. But she was something else now, too, and curiosity blazed within her. The gem filled her mind, and she was tempted, so tempted, to feed it the fuel that would transform her again. The strength within her craved release, craved manifest so as to proclaim to the world that she had arrived. Make reality recognize the new strand that she had become, the new melody in its midst.

Her body ached, her mind struggled to free itself from the lingering fog, but she felt good. Better than ever. There was no fighting her elation, but she channeled it instead into testing her limits. Pushing her recovery. She moved her fingers first, then her toes, and slowly but surely she felt her dexterity returning. Not at her core, she would avoid undue strain until she was cleared. But her body responded to her without complaint, pushing against a fatigue that promised the sweet elation of victory when she emerged the stronger for her aches. But the most important came last. She began humming quietly, starting deep in her chest with the lowest reaches of her range and increasing in pitch with every passing second until she had worked through every register that she could reach. Then she began to test her volume, filling the still air with soft, unrefined melody that blended and changed as she labored to ensure nothing untoward had befallen her voice.

”I cannot complain about the anvil’s treatment, for how else might I be a sword?” She queried aloud at last, after the untold infinities that her ascension had taken. ”Though perhaps the smith's mercies might have been more tender.”

…

Ah. The painkillers hadn’t totally expired within her. Alas, no wonder she felt so poetic.

Advance on Distant Proxima (Mecha RPG)

Quick status update. I was on track for being done on time, and then I... Really hated my draft. And it's kind of an important post, so I got to work revamping it and then hit a bump in coursework.

On the bright side I'm literally taking a break from finishing it to tell you all this, so it'll be up tonight come hell or high water.

Secundi Lux

"That sounds perfect." Rivka replied, stretching back out from her cross-legged position on the cot. The musician hadn't said much since getting Crystal back to her cot, but she had tried to lighten the mood by humming and occasionally commenting on things to the two remaining girls in the room. Not much, perhaps, but she didn't think bothering Crystal further would be very productive. Keep an eye on her, yes, chat if she looked like she was having more trouble. But better to leave her be. "Certainly enough to get us through the night, yes?"

She turned her head towards Crystal again, tilted slightly as she pulled on her boots and lowered her voice again. "Are you feeling well enough to go to the mess hall, Crystal? Or would you prefer to wait here a little longer?"

Advance on Distant Proxima (Mecha RPG)

No one seems super jazzed about a Discord, so I'll hold off. I'm fine with things the way they are I just thought I'd offer.

Working on an update for one of the two enemies, plus a couple extra things. Might have it done tonight, I wouldn't expect it later than Tuesday if not tonight. Going forward I'm going to work on at least providing a post every weekend, where I have enough posts to work with.

Secundi Lux

The very concrete was tense, soaking up the energy from the men and women within its walls determined to tie themselves in knots. Rivka didn't see why; their precious possessions hadn't been lost to marauders, no-good barbarians without the manners God gave the most ungrateful bastard. Nor, in her very humble opinion, had they exactly provided much reinforcement to their protective detail if they had known that a Nox breach could cause an infected state like the one they had just dealt with most handily. And then her things would still be fine.

Was she being unfair? Yes. Was she in a mood to be more charitable? Absolutely not. She didn't have Nox corruption insurance!

She walked through the face sullenly, with her nose pointed defiantly in the air and her 'borrowed' rifle still held at her side by the barrel. No one asked her to return it, anyone who got close enough was studiously disregarded, and they were thus spared a blistering explanation of what would be required for her to return the firearm that would have blown the confidence clear out of their merely mortal frame. And then there was their room, a place that she surveyed in its entirety within moments of setting foot inside. Four cots. Little else. There were the most rudimentary of comforts like a blanket and something that might charitably be called a pillow, but... Rivka's frown deepened. Not for the accommodations, she would learn to deal with far fewer comforts as an Ars Magi. But she would have liked something to eat after that misadventure. Or at least a shower. A military base surely had a locker room. Maybe there were facilities tucked away at the back of the room, but she had more of a feeling that a room not usually intended for human habitation had been converted for their use. The Baeterraen had half a mind to walk out and and a shower and a sandwich. Even an MRE would suffice. What, really, were their guards going to do? Shoot her? She'd seen their aim. They needed the target practice.

Scowling more deeply than ever she stowed the rifle under her cot and eyed it unhappily. On the one hand she would have preferred to fold the blanket up and use it to bolster her pillow. On the other she was sure to get cold in the night without it. She was already going to have to sleep in her street clothes, she wasn't going to forgo the comfort that a blanket would provide. The blanket unfolded with silent, precise motions and Rivka draped it over her cot. Shoes unlaced and she sank back onto the bunk for all the world as though she had been rendered liquid, with no more sound than she had made since her outburst in the transport. Even with her eyes closed and fingers laced behind her head her scowl didn't abate, but she turned her ear to better hear Selma's question and its answers. Their voices were as telling as their answers; Selma's friendly confidence describing a humble, important part of her life, Chie's hesitancy to describe what she would miss, timid by comparison, and then...

There, a discordance. Not anger in Crystal's expletive, nor fear per se, but...

"It isn't so strange to worry about the loved ones you leave behind. Or to feel proud of the help you provide." She said simply, sticking her legs straight up and using the momentum from dropping them again to easily sit upright, eyes opening and head tilting to regard Crystal even as she finished speaking to Chie. "Even if it were, it wouldn't matter. Everyone has something to keep them going."

"If you need something, Crystal, I'm sure a base of this size has a properly stocked medical staff. Do you want us to-" But Crystal was already moving, and something in Rivka's otherwise disinterested eyes flickered. From seated to standing in a single movement, the cot beneath her unprepared for the movement rose on one end and allowed her to place her feet onto solid ground and reach the doorway before Crystal in a few quick, deliberate strides. "Crystal."

"Crystal." She repeated, in a much softer, soothing voice. She wasn't- quite- blocking the doorway, but she had definitely and deliberately placed herself in the girl's path. The musician continued steadily and calmly, flashing a reassuring smile while she spoke. "It's okay. A pharmacy on base should have anything you need, we just need to send someone to get it. I'm a little hungry, myself, so why don't we ask them to bring back something we can eat, too? I'm sure they can at least rustle up some cardboard MREs, though that's almost enough to put me off the thought altogether."

"You're going to ruin your shirt," She added gently, gesturing slowly and carefully to her arm. "And I don't know about you but I don't have anything else to put on anymore. Let's take a seat and have someone take a look. Alright?"

Secundi Lux

“Never fear, devushka,” The Baeterran drawled, for there was no better word for the way she stretched the sounds. Far from danger they were languid even as they were crisp formed with deliberation but uttered in no real rush. The sound must be perfect, but the delivery? That would come when she deemed. But now she sounded magnanimous, flushed in face and soul with the feeling of victory. The triumph to which fear had given way once vanquished. “It’s a little cramped, but if you would hand me my case I can manage. I’ll even waive any performance dues, though if someone wanted to donate t-”

Her eyes snapped fully open, fingers tightening on the barrel of the rifle she still held safely safetied and tucked between her knees as realization came home with the clattering of luggage on tile and an imagined twang of snapping strings. Her case, dropped in the explosion. Her case, forgotten in favor of the rifle in her hands.

A rifle she now looked at with disgust, elation curdling as her lips curled back.

“Nekhoroshiye, kovarnyye, grebanyye zombi sukiny synov'ya!”

Her foot met the floor. Hard. Actually, that was more uncomfortable than anything since the explosion. All of her belongings had been left behind. The clothes were fine; she had paid a pittance for them, and she would pay a pittance to replace them. Her phone was in her pocket, though the screen may have been cracked. She would have to check. But her guitar. Any sheet music she had brought along. Her tuner. It wasn’t her best. She wasn’t an idiot, she would never have brought her best equipment along on a military transport! But it was all she was allowed to bring! Now someone would have to ship something along, and God knows if the stupid academy would allow care packagesm and-

Rivka scowled, slumping in her seat as though deflated. The esteemed Captain Wei received the only energy she had left in the form of a look that could kill; even acknowledging that it wasn’t her fault (which Rivka did begrudgingly), that they were all safe (no thanks to most of their guards), and that the Captain had done her job (did it count if it was done for her?) she was still the only possible target for her ire at this moment.

The Academy would get a fucking bill.

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

Everything in its season, you know. I'm appreciate of how long it lasted. I had a lot of good years with it.