Speeding Steelrunner Male Posted July 14 Report Share Posted July 14 Quote @Longshot97 We could have the characters meet and get ambushed by one or both vampires at the same time. That might be fun. 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lunamor she/her Posted July 14 Report Share Posted July 14 (edited) 2 hours ago, Longshot97 said: Eighth of the Eve nearly staggered from the sudden force that pulled the waterskin. He braced his knees, holding tight as Eza fairly flew across the open space, her feet not even brushing the ground. Even so, he felt his feet sliding out beneath him, and he reached desperately to anchor a lightline to the hallway. And missed. Eighth lurched forward. Thankfully, Eza landed safely beside him. Still, stumbled, only just catching himself on the doorframe. Right in perfect view of the demon. Eighth felt himself freeze, like a preybeast hearing a trapper's approach. Those infernal eyes caught him, pinned him in place, boring through skin and sinew directly to his soul. That eerie smile lingered, even as those midnight orbs widened in alarm. Eighth whirled, seizing Eza by the arm, and sprinted down the hall. Blooded pounded in his ears in time with his steps. They had been spotted. Patji, they had been spotted. The demon knew they were here. Seiju trilled frantically from his shoulder, but could offer little aid. Their flight was down an clear hall, and a person could only run so fast, no matter the path they took. Still, his steps were effortlessly soundless as they ran, and terror lent his feet wings. Further down the hall, a gaping door opened to a bloodstained room, a prone corpse just visible. Eighth felt his stomach heave, and he turned on the nearest intersection. Behind, ominous footfalls sounded from the cellblock. There had to be a way out somewhere. They had entered somewhere central to the building, just outside the prison area. All they needed do was head in the general direction of the outermost walls. Eighth was confident he could break out of anything short of solid stone. Without warning, the constabulary shook. Eighth fell to one knee as the walls rippled and the floor quaked. Seiju clutched his shoulder even tighter, nearly falling from her perch. What manner of sorcery did that monster wield? How could he shake the earth itself? He raises the dead from the Depths, fool. What challenge is the living world to him? @Lunamor Quote I'm good with meeting Fenna in the hallway. I'll have them get stalled by a vampire because Eza's first instinct would be to run away from Fenna's position since that was where the noise came from. You commented the vampire idea right as I was about this finish this post, great minds think alike I guess Eza stumbled as something caused the ground to shake. It sounded like thunder. It wasn't storming, though, and lightning bolts weren't supposed to do something like this if they struck a building. Was this another weird thing Asylum had caused? If they could make quakes like this, it was a very bad sign. She and Eighth needed to escape before the whole building was brought down. She anxiously looked around, trying to see where the boom had come from. She spotted large splintered pieces of wood that had been flung across the hallway they'd been heading down. Something must've happened there to destroy part of the constabulary. They needed to change direction, then. Surely there was another way out. Before she could point this out to Eighth as he recovered from partially falling, a much softer sound rang out. A little black cat trotted out from around a corner, then mewed in greeting. Eza cocked her head in confusion. Why was a cat in the police station? It must've come from outside. The poor thing was probably trapped. She gestured at it, trying to get it to come with her. It could follow them out to safety. The animal complied, bounding over. Suddenly, once it got a few feet away from her, it skidded to a stop. The fur on its tail puffed up and it hissed loudly, staring at something behind Eza. Instinctively, she moved away. A clawed hand swiped where her throat had been, closing around nothing but air. She whirled around to find a man there. He looked kinda like the other wrong people that she'd seen shambling around, but had some differences. Mainly, there were two long teeth protruding from his lips. They glistened with wet blood. The gore splattered across its face made her realize that it was probably the same sort of monster as the one she'd seen killing that poor guard. It immediately launched into another attack, swiping a clawed hand towards her with an unnatural speed. Eza barely managed to dodge the brunt of the blow, burning iron and using a door handle to yank herself to the side. The monster still managed to scratch her, tearing a bright red streak across her arm. She wanted to ironpull herself down the hallway and continue fleeing, but she wasn't sure that Eighth would be able to keep up with her. He'd been hurt pretty badly. Since flight wasn't an option, Eza decided to fight. She swiped at the beast with a glittering dagger while still in motion and managed to catch it by surprise, cutting a deep gash along its face and ruining one eye. To her dismay, even as it was still recoiling from the strike, the cut began to close, skin knitting back together and eye reforming. @Speeding Steelrunner @Stormlightsong Edited July 14 by Lunamor Tag 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Longshot97 he/him Posted July 14 Report Share Posted July 14 (edited) 16 hours ago, Lunamor said: Eza stumbled as something caused the ground to shake. It sounded like thunder. It wasn't storming, though, and lightning bolts weren't supposed to do something like this if they struck a building. Was this another weird thing Asylum had caused? If they could make quakes like this, it was a very bad sign. She and Eighth needed to escape before the whole building was brought down. She anxiously looked around, trying to see where the boom had come from. She spotted large splintered pieces of wood that had been flung across the hallway they'd been heading down. Something must've happened there to destroy part of the constabulary. They needed to change direction, then. Surely there was another way out. Before she could point this out to Eighth as he recovered from partially falling, a much softer sound rang out. A little black cat trotted out from around a corner, then mewed in greeting. Eza cocked her head in confusion. Why was a cat in the police station? It must've come from outside. The poor thing was probably trapped. She gestured at it, trying to get it to come with her. It could follow them out to safety. The animal complied, bounding over. Suddenly, once it got a few feet away from her, it skidded to a stop. The fur on its tail puffed up and it hissed loudly, staring at something behind Eza. Instinctively, she moved away. A clawed hand swiped where her throat had been, closing around nothing but air. She whirled around to find a man there. He looked kinda like the other wrong people that she'd seen shambling around, but had some differences. Mainly, there were two long teeth protruding from his lips. They glistened with wet blood. The gore splattered across its face made her realize that it was probably the same sort of monster as the one she'd seen killing that poor guard. It immediately launched into another attack, swiping a clawed hand towards her with an unnatural speed. Eza barely managed to dodge the brunt of the blow, burning iron and using a door handle to yank herself to the side. The monster still managed to scratch her, tearing a bright red streak across her arm. She wanted to ironpull herself down the hallway and continue fleeing, but she wasn't sure that Eighth would be able to keep up with her. He'd been hurt pretty badly. Since flight wasn't an option, Eza decided to fight. She swiped at the beast with a glittering dagger while still in motion and managed to catch it by surprise, cutting a deep gash along its face and ruining one eye. To her dismay, even as it was still recoiling from the strike, the cut began to close, skin knitting back together and eye reforming. Eighth of the Eve regained his feet right as the abomination dropped from the ceiling. It's skin was pale; deathly so. Yet even that pallid sheen was eclipsed by the bone-white of fresh scar. Spiraling across its skin, in eldritch patterns that baffled the mind. Just looking at them made Eighth shiver in revulsion. His reservations vanished as the creature slashed at Eza. Patji be praised, the girl dodged the blow, jerked to the side as though hauled by a rope. The claws scored her, however, even as she returned the favor. The monster recoiled, half its face lacerated, its eye split asunder. Yet not a hint of gore exited the wound, even as the flesh rippled and ran over, healing the damage. Eighth shuddered. Bloodless indeed. He ran a critical eye over the creature, examining it as he would a stalker of Lokui. Claws split the beast's fingertips, and the barest hint of talons emerged from the shredded ruin of its boots. It moved fast - faster than Aviar in flight. What he could make of its pupil was a mere slit in the illuminated hall. Nocturnal, then. Hunting habits aside, its eye was gone, and they had a chance. Eighth of the Eve raised his arm, sighting on the creature. His grip centered on the creature's ravaged eye. Then he pulled the trigger. A volley of darts erupted from his blowpipes in quick succession. Six. Seven. Eight. His aim was true. The projectiles flew straight, striking home about the Bloodless's ruined eye. Then rebounded. Eighth stared. The volley of missiles had driven the Bloodless back a good seven meters, step by step, but not a single one had penetrated skin. What had he done? Were his dartpoints faulty? No. They couldn't possibly all be misaligned. Eighth's eyes fell on one blowdart, rolling across the floor back towards him. The tip was oblong, slightly deformed. And completely, harmlessly blunt. Oh, Patji. Oh, Distant Father. The creature was recovering. Its eye was healed now, the fully formed orb fixating on them, beady with malice. The socket about the eye was deformed, and a flash of white told of protruding bone. Yet it ignored the injuries entirely, all its focus now upon them. Eighth thrust his hand within his coat, seizing his piercepoint darts. The creature's eyes fell on him, and Eighth froze despite himself. In those eyes was not merely hatred, but hunger. A lust for blood and bone, to drive all other, lesser concerns from this thing's mind. An unearthly screech emerged from its mouth, ululating unnaturally. Eighth quailed. Then the Bloodless charged him, fangs bared, claws seeking Eighth's heart. Quote The stage is set @Speeding Steelrunner. No pressure at all, but if you wish to join in, the door is open. Oh, and I actually had a specific inspiration for the sound produced by the vampire. I felt the word "roar" would have been too plain, too generic. Then I remembered this sound (headphone warning). @Lunamor @Speeding Steelrunner @Stormlightsong Edited July 14 by Longshot97 Typo. 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Scars of Hathsin he/him Posted July 14 Report Share Posted July 14 10 hours ago, Speeding Steelrunner said: Fenna, Smokestack Constabulary Fenna crashed into the ground with a sudden lurch, spraying debris in all directions and creating web-like cracks in the floor. She released her ironmind and briefly extinguished her pewter. Sharp aching flooded into her legs. Without pewter, the pain felt worse than it really was. By flaring her metal, she had protected herself from most of the damage—she would only have sone bruises, and maybe a minor cut or two. Fenna started burning pewter again, completely deadening the pain, and picked her way out of the pile of rubble she had created. It was quiet. Suspiciously quiet. Fenna pulled out her weapon and stored weight, making her lighter on her feet. She crept forward down the hall. What am I doing here? I’m such a rusting idiot. @Lunamor @Longshot97 @Stormlightsong @Scars of Hathsin Arranis, Smokestack, Constalbury Building Arranis creeps inside the building, sensing something... wrong.. within. "Try and find Asylum" he says to Astra, glancing down one of the hallways from the entrance. Where a woman was walking, the opposite way to him. You cant be up to anything good. He thinks to himself, before lashing himself in her direction, his legs braced for a kick. @Speeding Steelrunner 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lunamor she/her Posted July 14 Report Share Posted July 14 1 hour ago, Longshot97 said: Eighth of the Eve regained his feet right as the abomination dropped from the ceiling. It's skin was pale; deathly so. Yet even that pallid sheen was eclipsed by the bone-white of fresh scar. Spiraling across its skin, in eldritch patterns that baffled the mind. Just looking at them made Eighth shiver in revulsion. His reservations vanished as the creature slashed at Eza. Patji be praised, the girl dodged the blow, jerked to the side as though hauled by a rope. The claws scored her, however, even as she returned the favor. The monster recoiled, half its face lacerated, its eye split asunder. Yet not a hint of gore exited the wound, even as the flesh rippled and ran over, healing the damage. Eighth shuddered. Bloodless indeed. He ran a critical eye over the creature, examining it as he would a stalker of Lokui. Claws split the beast's fingertips, and the barest hint of talons emerged from the shredded ruin of its boots. It moved fast - faster than Aviar in flight. What he could make of its pupil was a mere slit in the illuminated hall. Nocturnal, then. Hunting habits aside, its eye was gone, and they had a chance. Eighth of the Eve raised his arm, sighting on the creature. His grip centered on the creature's ravaged eye. Then he pulled the trigger. A volley of darts erupted from his blowpipes in quick succession. Six. Seven. Eight. His aim was true. The projectiles flew straight, striking home about the Bloodless's ruined eye. Then rebounded. Eighth stared. The volley of missiles had driven the Bloodless back a good seven meters, step by step, but not a single one had penetrated skin. What had he done? Were his dartpoints faulty? No. They couldn't possibly all be misaligned. Eighth's eyes fell on one blowdart, rolling across the floor back towards him. The tip was oblong, slightly deformed. And completely, harmlessly blunt. Oh, Patji. Oh, Distant Father. The creature was recovering. Its eye was healed now, the fully formed orb fixating on them, beady with malice. The socket about the eye was deformed, and a flash of white told of protruding bone. Yet it ignored the injuries entirely, all its focus now upon them. Eighth thrust his hand within his coat, seizing his piercepoint darts. The creature's eyes fell on him, and Eighth froze despite himself. In those eyes was not merely hatred, but hunger. A lust for blood and bone, to drive all other, lesser concerns from this thing's mind. An unearthly screech emerged from its mouth, ululating unnaturally. Eighth quailed. Then the Bloodless charged him, fangs bared, claws seeking Eighth's heart. @Lunamor @Speeding Steelrunner @Stormlightsong Quote Well thinking of a vampire screaming like that is gonna give me nightmares now. Also, since Arranis is attacking Fenna, I'm gonna have Eza continue attacking for the sake of keeping a logical timeline. Eza's throat constricted as she saw Eighth's darts ineffectively bounce off of the monster's eye. That was her fault; she'd told him to use nonlethal attacks on the guards. She didn't regret that, but somehow felt guilty anyways. Then the creature lunged at Eighth. It was going to kill him. Almost as if by instinct, Eza held her blade close to her chest pointing outwards, flared her iron, then pulled hard on the metal bars of a cell not meant for allomancers ahead of her. She shot forwards and crashed into the vampire before it reached her friend. The small girl grunted at the impact but managed to send them both flying through the air and slam the beast against the cell door. Its head hit a bar with a resounding crack, dazing it. She quickly stepped back before it could get its bearings again. She left her dagger embedded deep within its heart, the force of her pull having given her the strength to pierce through its chest. It was sunken completely up to the handle, nearly sticking out of the back as well. Eza hesitantly waited, expecting the monster to collapse at any moment. She'd given it a lethal blow- you couldn't heal from being dead. Its eyes dropped down to the blade for a moment, then back up at her. They had so much rage for something so lifeless. Not breaking eye contact, it yanked the blade out with a squelching noise. She cringed as it let her weapon slip out of its fingers to the floor, the metallic clinking against the concrete seeming to be louder than gunshots. She began to panic even more than she already had been. Was this thing just immortal? How was she supposed to kill it if stabbing it through the heart didn't work? It could potentially regenerate from anything. How did you fight that? Absentmindedly she pulled on the metal embedded within her fallen dagger's handle, sending it rocketing back into her hand. Eza looked past the monster. A cell. There was a cell. As the beast began to sprint at her again, she pulled on its door. It swung open, the guards not having bothered to lock an empty cell. The beast, however, ran at her even faster than it had before. It was angry, now. Perhaps that was why she survived the next blow. Rather than go for her throat, it kicked her in the stomach hard enough that she lost her balance and crumpled to the ground. @Speeding Steelrunner @Scars of Hathsin 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Speeding Steelrunner Male Posted July 14 Report Share Posted July 14 8 hours ago, Scars of Hathsin said: Arranis, Smokestack, Constalbury Building Arranis creeps inside the building, sensing something... wrong.. within. "Try and find Asylum" he says to Astra, glancing down one of the hallways from the entrance. Where a woman was walking, the opposite way to him. You cant be up to anything good. He thinks to himself, before lashing himself in her direction, his legs braced for a kick. @Speeding Steelrunner Quote Well, this just got interesting! Fenna, Smokestack Constabulary As she crept soundlessly forward, Fenna heard the sounds of a scuffle. She paused, trying to tell where it was coming from. I don’t like this. I should’ve run into some one by— A flash of blue light caught her attention from the corner of her eye. Fenna whipped around, tapping weight and flaring pewter as something slammed into her, knocking the wind from her lungs. @Scars of Hathsin @Lunamor @Longshot97 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Longshot97 he/him Posted July 14 Report Share Posted July 14 (edited) On 7/13/2024 at 11:55 PM, Lunamor said: Eza's throat constricted as she saw Eighth's darts ineffectively bounce off of the monster's eye. That was her fault; she'd told him to use nonlethal attacks on the guards. She didn't regret that, but somehow felt guilty anyways. Then the creature lunged at Eighth. It was going to kill him. Almost as if by instinct, Eza held her blade close to her chest pointing outwards, flared her iron, then pulled hard on the metal bars of a cell not meant for allomancers ahead of her. She shot forwards and crashed into the vampire before it reached her friend. The small girl grunted at the impact but managed to send them both flying through the air and slam the beast against the cell door. Its head hit a bar with a resounding crack, dazing it. She quickly stepped back before it could get its bearings again. She left her dagger embedded deep within its heart, the force of her pull having given her the strength to pierce through its chest. It was sunken completely up to the handle, nearly sticking out of the back as well. Eza hesitantly waited, expecting the monster to collapse at any moment. She'd given it a lethal blow- you couldn't heal from being dead. Its eyes dropped down to the blade for a moment, then back up at her. They had so much rage for something so lifeless. Not breaking eye contact, it yanked the blade out with a squelching noise. She cringed as it let her weapon slip out of its fingers to the floor, the metallic clinking against the concrete seeming to be louder than gunshots. She began to panic even more than she already had been. Was this thing just immortal? How was she supposed to kill it if stabbing it through the heart didn't work? It could potentially regenerate from anything. How did you fight that? Absentmindedly she pulled on the metal embedded within her fallen dagger's handle, sending it rocketing back into her hand. Eza looked past the monster. A cell. There was a cell. As the beast began to sprint at her again, she pulled on its door. It swung open, the guards not having bothered to lock an empty cell. The beast, however, ran at her even faster than it had before. It was angry, now. Perhaps that was why she survived the next blow. Rather than go for her throat, it kicked her in the stomach hard enough that she lost her balance and crumpled to the ground. Eighth stood there, shaking himself out of the stupor. The Bloodless's eyes had trapped him, right up to the moment Eza had intervened. He had frantically reloaded his blowpipes - with killing points, this time - and taken aim. Then stopped as he saw Eza back away from the beast, blade buried within its heart. And it had stood up anyway, flesh sealing the wound with barely a scar.. We can't kill it, Eighth thought. It would take an army to kill it. But what other choice do we have? Eighth advanced, hand on his machete. Yet before he could even draw it, the Bloodless struck. It burst forward, and before either of them could react, kicked Eza. In the stomach, like a misbehaving hound. She collapsed, skidding helplessly across the floor to the opposite wall. And behind the creature, the door to an empty cell swung out. In that moment, Eighth of the Eve saw their chance. He whistled sharply, holding his left hand aloft. Seiju hopped down as he tapped his fingers to his left palm. Then he whistled - two shrill notes, one high, one low. Attack. Seiju looked askance only a moment before taking flight, rising above the Bloodless. Eighth ran in the opposite direction. Towards the open cell. Eighth darted to the barred wall, a glowing lightline trailing behind him. He heard the faint whine of his Aviar 's dive, and smiled. He stripped the bracelet off his wrist, then looped the line around the bar nearest to the door. A tap signaled the lightline to stop extending. Now- A cry split the air. Seiju. "No!" He shouted, whirling about. Seiju had been struck from the air, and was fluttering wildly, trying to regain control. The creature had barely paused to deal with the Aviar, and was nearly upon Eza. The beast's enraged snarl reflected in her terrified eyes. And a glowing line of light trailed from the Bloodless's back. "Eza!" Eighth shouted, tossing the bracelet into the air. The metal bracelet. "Pull!" Eighth seized the lightline, just as the creature pounced, teeth and claws bared. He braced his feet, released his weightloss, and heaved on the line with all his might. Quote A few comments. Nightmares, you say? My work here is done. Eighth's plan is simple, but I didn't want to break the pace of the scene to explain it all. So, in case it's not clear, he's got a rope attached to the vampire, with the other end attached to some metal. The rope has been wound around a cell's bar, almost like a pulley. His plan is to pull the vampire directly towards the open cell - and hopefully force it in - while Eza Pulls the other end of the rope to her, which is wrapped around a bar, also forcing the vampire towards the cell. Hopefully, their combined effort overcomes whetever preternatural strength Asylum has imbued into these creatures. Oh, and @Stormlightsong. Since Asylum sent the black cat to "protect" Eza, does it have any supernatural properties? Or is it just a plain cat - which I've heard likened to blender-filled tornados (so still pretty intimidating, I guess). Edited August 4 by Longshot97 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lunamor she/her Posted July 14 Report Share Posted July 14 1 hour ago, Longshot97 said: Eighth stood there, shaking himself out of the stupor. The Bloodless's eyes had trapped him, right up to the moment Eza had intervened. He had frantically reloaded his blowpipes - with killing points, this time - and taken aim. Then stopped as he saw Eza back away from the beast, blade buried within its heart. And it had stood up anyway, flesh sealing the wound with barely a scar.. We can't kill it, Eighth thought. It would take an army to kill it. But what other choice do we have? Eighth advanced, hand on his machete. Yet before he could even draw it, the Bloodless struck. It burst forward, and before either of them could react, kicked Eza. In the stomach, like a misbehaving hound. She collapsed, skidding helplessly across the floor to the opposite wall. And behind the creature, the door to an empty cell swung out. In that moment, Eighth of the Eve saw their chance. He whistled sharply, holding his left hand aloft. Seiju hopped down as he tapped his fingers to his left palm. Then he whistled - two shrill notes, one high, one low. Attack. Seiju looked askance only a moment before taking flight, rising above the Bloodless. Eighth ran in the opposite direction. Towards the open cell. Eighth darted to the barred wall, a glowing lightline trailing behind him. He heard the faint whine of his Aviar 's dive, and smiled. He stripped the lightline bracelet off his wrist, then passed it around the bar nearest to the door. A tap signaled the A cry split the air. Seiju. "No" He shouted, whirling about. Seiju had been struck from the air, and was fluttering wildly, trying to regain control. The creature had barely paused to deal with the Aviar, and was nearly upon Eza. The beast's enraged snarl reflected in her terrified eyes. And a glowing line of light trailed from the Bloodless's back. "Eza!" Eighth shouted, tossing the bracelet into the air. The metal bracelet. "Pull!" Eighth seized the lightline, just as the creature pounced, teeth and claws bared. He braced his feet, released his weightloss, and heaved on the line with all his might. Eza looked up at the monster towering over her. Its eyes were wild, angry, hungry, excited. The beast bared its teeth in a twisted smile. It was moving slower now, stalking her like an injured fawn. She swore she could hear it laughing. It was savoring this. She couldn't even get on her feet, put up some semblance of a resistance. Both of them knew that there was only one outcome. She wanted to be brave, to face her death with dignity. But she wasn't. Her eyes were wide, breath fast, heart pounding. She was terrified. She felt so small. Then Eighth yelled at her to pull. He'd thrown up a bracelet attached to some sort of glowing line that he held. Eza didn't have time to process why he wanted her to do that, but she trusted him. She knew that she shouldn't have, that her foolish trust was the reason they were in this mess, but somehow she still did. She immediately flared her iron and pulled on two things simultaneously- the bracelet, and a doorknob behind her. While the bracelet was light, the man holding its line most certainly wasn't. The beast leapt forwards, snarling. Its mouth was open wide, fangs seeking her throat. Just before it reached its target, it suddenly lost all momentum. Its jaws closed around nothing. Then, it began to slowly be dragged away, back towards the cell. It swiped a clawed hand at her in fury, letting out another blood-curdling screech, but was out of arms reach. Eza, meanwhile, was desperately trying to not tear herself in half. The vampire was roughly about as heavy as Eighth was, but this time she didn't have a wall to support her. While she hadn't managed to stand up, she was lifted a few feet into the air by her efforts anyways. The doorknob remained stubbornly in place, but she worried that it would be torn off of the door if she continued to pull on it like this. Slowly, the bracelet moved towards her, quivering in midair. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Scars of Hathsin he/him Posted July 14 Report Share Posted July 14 10 hours ago, Speeding Steelrunner said: Fenna, Smokestack Constabulary As she crept soundlessly forward, Fenna heard the sounds of a scuffle. She paused, trying to tell where it was coming from. I don’t like this. I should’ve run into some one by— A flash of blue light caught her attention from the corner of her eye. Fenna whipped around, tapping weight and flaring pewter as something slammed into her, knocking the wind from her lungs. @Scars of Hathsin @Lunamor @Longshot97 Arranis, Smokestack Constalbury Arranis grunts with exertion as his feet hit the female, crunching and distorting like they had hit metal. He continues falling onto her as his feet healed, before whipping a hand towards her throat. "What are you doing here?" he whisper hisses in her ear. Astra returns to him, floating down the hallway with some urgency. "Asylum looks like they have gone mad, they have made creatures who are moving dead, and one of the stronger ones is coming our way" he curses @Speeding Steelrunner 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Longshot97 he/him Posted July 15 Report Share Posted July 15 (edited) 3 hours ago, Lunamor said: Eza looked up at the monster towering over her. Its eyes were wild, angry, hungry, excited. The beast bared its teeth in a twisted smile. It was moving slower now, stalking her like an injured fawn. She swore she could hear it laughing. It was savoring this. She couldn't even get on her feet, put up some semblance of a resistance. Both of them knew that there was only one outcome. She wanted to be brave, to face her death with dignity. But she wasn't. Her eyes were wide, breath fast, heart pounding. She was terrified. She felt so small. Then Eighth yelled at her to pull. He'd thrown up a bracelet attached to some sort of glowing line that he held. Eza didn't have time to process why he wanted her to do that, but she trusted him. She knew that she shouldn't have, that her foolish trust was the reason they were in this mess, but somehow she still did. She immediately flared her iron and pulled on two things simultaneously- the bracelet, and a doorknob behind her. While the bracelet was light, the man holding its line most certainly wasn't. The beast leapt forwards, snarling. Its mouth was open wide, fangs seeking her throat. Just before it reached its target, it suddenly lost all momentum. Its jaws closed around nothing. Then, it began to slowly be dragged away, back towards the cell. It swiped a clawed hand at her in fury, letting out another blood-curdling screech, but was out of arms reach. Eza, meanwhile, was desperately trying to not tear herself in half. The vampire was roughly about as heavy as Eighth was, but this time she didn't have a wall to support her. While she hadn't managed to stand up, she was lifted a few feet into the air by her efforts anyways. The doorknob remained stubbornly in place, but she worried that it would be torn off of the door if she continued to pull on it like this. Slowly, the bracelet moved towards her, quivering in midair. They stopped the beast just in time. Eighth of the Eve growled. His muscles quivered, taut with exertion. Cords stood out at his neck. The Bloodless dug its taloned feet into the wooden floor, then lurched down to all fours. Pain began to flare, his tendons screaming in agony, his joints slowly pulling in ways the were not meant for. The claws slid towards him, carving ragged furrows through the planking. Eighth felt their progress. Slowly. Too slowly. His plan had to work. It had to. Just a little further… There. The wood crunched viciously under the monster’s claws as it howled in frustration. Eight felt the subtle lessening of pressure, saw the tensing of hind and shoulder muscles as the Bloodless prepared to turn on another victim. The veins about his left hand began to hum an ethereal violet. Without looking, Eight was suddenly conscious of the waterskin at his side. He risked a one-handed hold on the line, and thrust his gloved hand down. The quicksilver burst from its vessel, the cork effortlessly shoved aside. Solvent silver ran to the floor below, pooling about him. No! With an effort of will, Eighth held the metal back, away from his feet. Right as the Bloodless whirled on him, eyes alight with fury. He felt his mind clouding over, and hurriedly looked aside from its gaze. He saw it lunge, practically flying with the force of their pull. The approaching claws and fangs filled his vision. With a raw shout, Eighth released the line and dove forward, angling himself directly beneath the monstrosity. He had done so many a time. He would strike hands-first, slowing his fall to take the force off of his roll. It would end in an effortless rise to his feet, facing the way he had come, unharmed and unhindered. But Seiju was no longer with him. Eighth felt lines of heat trace their way across his spine. He landed his hands correctly, but his back spasmed in pain, and he only just managed to keep from slamming his head into the ground. He crashed down, tumbling painfully until he settled in a heap next to Eza. Through tears of pain, Eighth saw the monster touch down directly where he had been standing. Right on the quicksilver. The Bloodless slipped, claws sliding helplessly on the metal, its momentum carrying it onwards. Eighth thrust his hand - still alight with power - and the metal rolled forward, carrying the creature helplessly past the cell’s open door. Eighth lurched to his feet as the Bloodless crashed against the back wall. Hurry. Hurry! He raced across the length of the hallway as the creature slowly regained its feet. Just as it lifted its head, Eighth seized the door, slamming it shut. His hands scrabbled on the door, grasping for a lever, a bolt, a lock of some kind. There was none. The creature’s eyes widened as it made out the wall of bars between them. A wailing screech escaped its throat, and it lunged for the door. Eighth flung his hand to the side, and the quicksilver flowed out from beneath the Bloodless, sending it sprawling. The light of his hand revealed a strange indentation on the door. Angular on the bottom, circular the top, almost a fingerlength deep. A keyhole. Eighth barely hung on as the Bloodless slammed against the bars. “We need a key!” he shouted. He barely moved in time to avoid a slashing claw, then slid his hands down as the creature snapped at then. “It won’t lock without one!” Quote Usually, prison doors are operated by keys. A more experienced Eighth could use the Ritch to engage the lock, but he wouldn't know how. Does Eza know how to pick a lock? Does this point even make sense? If not, we can scrap that, and just say the vampire is contained. @Lunamor Edited July 15 by Longshot97 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Speeding Steelrunner Male Posted July 15 Report Share Posted July 15 2 hours ago, Scars of Hathsin said: Arranis, Smokestack Constalbury Arranis grunts with exertion as his feet hit the female, crunching and distorting like they had hit metal. He continues falling onto her as his feet healed, before whipping a hand towards her throat. "What are you doing here?" he whisper hisses in her ear. Astra returns to him, floating down the hallway with some urgency. "Asylum looks like they have gone mad, they have made creatures who are moving dead, and one of the stronger ones is coming our way" he curses @Speeding Steelrunner Fenna, Smokestack Constabulary It was one of those rusting Radiants. Fenna had seen them occasionally, but never had to deal with one in a fight before. The Radiant grabbed her by the throat, but pewter prevented him from constricting windpipe. “What are you doing here?” he hissed in her ear. ”What’s a Radiant doing in a Scadrian district police station?” Fenna countered. “I’ve as much business here as you.” The Radiant’s weighed against her as though he was pulled that way by gravity. Only her weight kept him in place. So Fenna stored weight. The Radiant’s weight now sent them both falling down the hallway. Fenna quickly tapped weight again, jerking herself free of his grip and falling to the real floor. Her weapon—a simple wooden stick—was knocked from her grasp as she landed in a roll and skidded to a stop. Fenna scrambled to her feet, turning to face her opponent again. @Scars of Hathsin 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Scars of Hathsin he/him Posted July 15 Report Share Posted July 15 3 minutes ago, Speeding Steelrunner said: Fenna, Smokestack Constabulary It was one of those rusting Radiants. Fenna had seen them occasionally, but never had to deal with one in a fight before. The Radiant grabbed her by the throat, but pewter prevented him from constricting windpipe. “What are you doing here?” he hissed in her ear. ”What’s a Radiant doing in a Scadrian district police station?” Fenna countered. “I’ve as much business here as you.” The Radiant’s weighed against her as though he was pulled that way by gravity. Only her weight kept him in place. So Fenna stored weight. The Radiant’s weight now sent them both falling down the hallway. Fenna quickly tapped weight again, jerking herself free of his grip and falling to the real floor. Her weapon—a simple wooden stick—was knocked from her grasp as she landed in a roll and skidded to a stop. Fenna scrambled to her feet, turning to face her opponent again. @Scars of Hathsin Arranis, Smokestack Constalbury ”What’s a Radiant doing in a Scadrian district police station?” she says. Arranis grints as they fall down the hallway, and he accelerates faster, When she jerks away, he jumps up, and kicks his shoes off, falling into a kata like stance, glowing with stormlight. "I am here to save the place from whatever is happening" he mutters. "Uhhh the both of you, that beast I talked about" Astra says looking at him, "Well he is here now" pointing towards a creature that stalked down the hallway. It was the ugliest thing that Arranis had seen. He hisses, "Vampire" @Speeding Steelrunner 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Speeding Steelrunner Male Posted July 15 Report Share Posted July 15 (edited) 11 hours ago, Scars of Hathsin said: Arranis, Smokestack Constalbury ”What’s a Radiant doing in a Scadrian district police station?” she says. Arranis grints as they fall down the hallway, and he accelerates faster, When she jerks away, he jumps up, and kicks his shoes off, falling into a kata like stance, glowing with stormlight. "I am here to save the place from whatever is happening" he mutters. Fenna, Smokestack Constabulary Fenna scowled at him. “Would’ve been better if you led with that, Radiant. I’m just here to help.” And snag some pewter, she added to herself. 11 hours ago, Scars of Hathsin said: "Uhhh the both of you, that beast I talked about" Astra says looking at him, "Well he is here now" pointing towards a creature that stalked down the hallway. It was the ugliest thing that Arranis had seen. He hisses, "Vampire" Fenna turned to see the creature stalking down the hallway. “Harmony!” she swore. “What is that?” The monster burst into motion, rushing towards them. It was quick. Rusts, rusts, rusts! What have I gotten into? @Scars of Hathsin Quote I’m assuming that the vampire is coming from the end of the hall closer to Arranis (I’ve been keeping track of their positions and Arranis should be further down the hall, and therefore closer to where the vampire would most likely come from), but I’m good either way. Edited July 15 by Speeding Steelrunner 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lunamor she/her Posted July 15 Report Share Posted July 15 1 hour ago, Longshot97 said: They stopped the beast just in time. Eighth of the Eve growled. His muscles quivered, taut with exertion. Cords stood out at his neck. The Bloodless dug its taloned feet into the wooden floor, then lurched down to all fours. Pain began to flare, his tendons screaming in agony, his joints slowly pulling in ways the were not meant for. The claws slid towards him, carving ragged furrows through the planking. Eighth felt their progress. Slowly. Too slowly. His plan had to work. It had to. Just a little further… There. The wood crunched viciously under the monster’s claws as it howled in frustration. Eight felt the subtle lessening of pressure, saw the tensing of hind and shoulder muscles as the Bloodless prepared to turn on another victim. The veins about his left hand began to hum an ethereal violet. Without looking, Eight was suddenly conscious of the waterskin at his side. He risked a one-handed hold on the line, and thrust his gloved hand down. The quicksilver burst from its vessel, the cork effortlessly shoved aside. Solvent silver ran to the floor below, pooling about him. No! With an effort of will, Eighth held the metal back, away from his feet. Right as the Bloodless whirled on him, eyes alight with fury. He felt his mind clouding over, and hurriedly looked aside from its gaze. He saw it lunge, practically flying with the force of their pull. The approaching claws and fangs filled his vision. With a raw shout, Eighth released the line and dove forward, angling himself directly beneath the monstrosity. He had done so many a time. He would strike hands-first, slowing his fall to take the force off of his roll. It would end in an effortless rise to his feet, facing the way he had come, unharmed and unhindered. But Seiju was no longer with him. Eighth felt lines of heat trace their way across his spine. He landed his hands correctly, but his back spasmed in pain, and he only just managed to keep from slamming his head into the ground. He crashed down, tumbling painfully until he settled in a heap next to Eza. Through tears of pain, Eighth saw the monster touch down directly where he had been standing. Right on the quicksilver. The Bloodless slipped, claws sliding helplessly on the metal, its momentum carrying it onwards. Eighth thrust his hand - still alight with power - and the metal rolled forward, carrying the creature helplessly past the cell’s open door. Eighth lurched to his feet as the Bloodless crashed against the back wall. Hurry. Hurry! He raced across the length of the hallway as the creature slowly regained its feet. Just as it lifted its head, Eighth seized the door, slamming it shut. His hands scrabbled on the door, grasping for a lever, a bolt, a lock of some kind. There was none. The creature’s eyes widened as it made out the wall of bars between them. A wailing screech escaped its throat, and it lunged for the door. Eighth flung his hand to the side, and the quicksilver flowed out from beneath the Bloodless, sending it sprawling. The light of his hand revealed a strange indentation on the door. Angular on the bottom, circular the top, almost a fingerlength deep. A keyhole. Eighth barely hung on as the Bloodless slammed against the bars. “We need a key!” he shouted. He barely moved in time to avoid a slashing claw, then slid his hands down as the creature snapped at then. “It won’t lock without one!” @Lunamor Quote I mentioned that Eza had been practicing picking locks with ironpulling back in Episode 1, so she probably could. Eza released her two pulls and fell to the floor. She stood up with quite a bit of difficulty and limped over to the door as quickly as she could. Burning iron, she focused on the lock. She could do this. She'd practiced it before, albeit in a far less high-stakes situation. She closed her eyes and looked at the single line making up the lock. All of her thoughts became centered around that line. What is was, where it led, the slightest differences in metallic makeup just barely noticeable in different sections. After a tense moment, she saw the line split. It became several smaller lines, each pointing to a different component of the lock. She was familiar with locks. You had to get good at picking them if you wanted to get to the really valuable stuff, sometimes. She seized a thicker line pointing to where she knew the latch would be located, stumbled to the side to get a better angle, then pulled. With a barely audible thunk, the cell door was locked. Eza finally extinguished her iron, breathing heavily from the exertion. She looked over at Eighth. She would've smiled with relief at trapping the monster had his injuries not given her so much concern. That thing had scratched his back really badly. He wasn't out of danger yet. She felt awful that he'd been in this situation in the first place because of her. She needed to find him medical attention as fast as possible. "Are you alright?" She tried to stay standing, but something felt wrong. She swayed to the side enough that she was in danger of falling, so she opted to relent to her exhaustion and sit. She'd used a lot of iron. Her body hadn't been built for that. Her mind hadn't been built for that. With a shaking hand, she uncorked one of her vials of iron and downed it. That stunt had nearly wiped out her reserves completely. Blackness began to overtake the edges of her vision as her adrenaline wore off. While it wasn't particularly visible, the impacts of her repeated strong ironpulls had nearly torn her apart. Every fiber of her body was screaming for the release of unconsciousness. Thinking was hard. Why was it getting dark? Someone must be turning the lights off. They'd turned the heating off, too. That wasn't very considerate. The little black cat started to persistently headbutt Eza, as if it was trying to keep her awake. The continuous, wailing screeches from the enraged vampire barely reached her ears. She... she needed to keep moving. They needed to leave. Eighth needed her help. But Harmony, she was so tired... 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Longshot97 he/him Posted July 15 Report Share Posted July 15 (edited) On 7/14/2024 at 10:08 PM, Lunamor said: Eza released her two pulls and fell to the floor. She stood up with quite a bit of difficulty and limped over to the door as quickly as she could. Burning iron, she focused on the lock. She could do this. She'd practiced it before, albeit in a far less high-stakes situation. She closed her eyes and looked at the single line making up the lock. All of her thoughts became centered around that line. What is was, where it led, the slightest differences in metallic makeup just barely noticeable in different sections. After a tense moment, she saw the line split. It became several smaller lines, each pointing to a different component of the lock. She was familiar with locks. You had to get good at picking them if you wanted to get to the really valuable stuff, sometimes. She seized a thicker line pointing to where she knew the latch would be located, stumbled to the side to get a better angle, then pulled. With a barely audible thunk, the cell door was locked. Eighth of the Eve held desperately to the cell door, fighting to stay alive. The door was composed entirely of vertical bars, with the only solid section being the lock. The Bloodless was taking full advantage, slashing and stabbing and biting as it tried to force its way out. Patji alone knew how it hadn't escaped yet. His hands burned from the impacts on the frame he was holding shut. He glanced reflexively at his wrist. But no. His lightline was gone, somewhere on the floor behind him. Eza stumbled to the cell beside him. Father, but she was in bad shape. Of course, he wasn't much better. Pain wracked his back and shoulders every time he shifted, and hot blood ran down his shirt. She stopped by the door, closing her eyes, as though in pain. The Bloodless rounded on her, snarling its fury. No! Eighth angled his arm, then triggered his blowpipes. The dart flew, lodging in the creature's cheek. The Bloodless screeched wildly, slamming against the door. Eighth jerked his head from a clawed swipe, then dropped below a full-arm stab. His left hand slipped from the door. It was going to escape. He couldn't hold it. He- The lock clicked shut. Eighth hurled himself back as the Bloodless rushed the door again. The bars rang loudly from the blow, the metal seeming to quiver at the force. But the door held. The creature threw its head back, howling its fury to the heavens. Clawed hands gripped the steel bars as though to rip them asunder. But no matter how it strained, no matter how it bit or clawed or wrenched, the steel stood strong. Those talons were meant for bloodshed and butchery, not carving through solid steel. On 7/14/2024 at 10:08 PM, Lunamor said: Eza finally extinguished her iron, breathing heavily from the exertion. She looked over at Eighth. She would've smiled with relief at trapping the monster had his injuries not given her so much concern. That thing had scratched his back really badly. He wasn't out of danger yet. She felt awful that he'd been in this situation in the first place because of her. She needed to find him medical attention as fast as possible. "Are you alright?" She tried to stay standing, but something felt wrong. She swayed to the side enough that she was in danger of falling, so she opted to relent to her exhaustion and sit. She'd used a lot of iron. Her body hadn't been built for that. Her mind hadn't been built for that. With a shaking hand, she uncorked one of her vials of iron and downed it. That stunt had nearly wiped out her reserves completely. Blackness began to overtake the edges of her vision as her adrenaline wore off. While it wasn't particularly visible, the impacts of her repeated strong ironpulls had nearly torn her apart. Every fiber of her body was screaming for the release of unconsciousness. Thinking was hard. Why was it getting dark? Someone must be turning the lights off. They'd turned the heating off, too. That wasn't very considerate. Eighth scrambled back from the door, not bothering to get to his feet. He shoved himself away, kicking his feet wildly to gain distance. It was over. They had done it. They were alive. He rolled himself to his side, then just rested there, on his hands and knees. Chest heaving, arms quivering. He was shivering, taking in all that had happened. "Are you alright?" Eighth forced himself up on one knee, deliberately taking stock. His back felt on fire. From his forearms, his arms ached abominably. His head throbbed with pain, though his vision had snapped into focus. A flutter of wings sounded, and Seiju landed awkwardly beside him. She stood just fine, but lines of red blood stood out across one wing. Eighth reached out, carefully holding her in his hands. She was no longer a chick he could cradle, sheltering her with his hands from the world. But she huddled down, nuzzling his hand until he stroked her neck. "Thank you," he said, quietly. She cooed softly. A thump sounded before Eighth. He jerked upright, noticing Eza for the first time. She had fallen to the floor, eyes glassy. Her hands shook, nearly drenching herself as she drank fiercely from a vial. He rose painfully to his feet, walking over to kneel beside her. Blood dripped from her upraised arm, and she curled about her midsection. She looked so small, now. A child really, huddled on the floor, hurting and far from home. Fall's face swam in his mind, hunkered down in the forest floor, underbrush barely sheltering her from the driving rain. Blood had mixed with the water running down her skin. Eighth rose, groping his coat for his bandages. His hands felt clammy. He barely found the small pouch, pulling it free and laying it out. "I'll be fine," he said to Eza. Her eyes were drooping, shoulders shaking. "But you are not." The girl didn't even respond. On 7/14/2024 at 10:08 PM, Lunamor said: The little black cat started to persistently headbutt Eza, as if it was trying to keep her awake. The continuous, wailing screeches from the enraged vampire barely reached her ears. She... she needed to keep moving. They needed to leave. Eighth needed her help. But Harmony, she was so tired... A small cat, black as midnight, emerged from the shadows. Eighth blinked. When had it arrived? What was it doing here? Did the constables have problems with mice? The little creature butted up against Eza, as though trying to wake her. Eighth frowned, shooing it back. Eza's eyes were distant, unfocused. Her head seemed fine. Still, anything could have happened... Eza's eyes rolled back in her head, and she collapsed bonelessly to her side. * * * Eighth of the Eve panicked. It had been sometime since that had happened. He grabbed Eza by the arms, shaking her forcefully. No. No! She didn't stir, not even as her head knocked hollowly against the floor. Calm. Calm yourself, fool! He forced himself to set her down gently, feeling at her wrist, then her neck. Her pulse was there, but weak, faint. Her face was pale, lips nearly blue in the harsh light. Her chest rose only shallowly. Eighth felt frantically for his waterskin. Then stopped, staring blankly at the empty bag. Fool! He tossed it aside, grabbing a clay pot from his coat instead. He crouched low, holding her arm to the light and examining it closely. Some of the more vicious predators of Lokui delivered venom through hollowed claws. This cut, however, appeared clean. He packed the cut with salve before binding it. He hesitated, then wrapped cloth about her upper arm, tightly enough to restrict blood flow. He did not want her to lose a limb. Still, who knew how long before they escaped? The cat wandered over, sniffing inquisitively at the dressing. Eighth shooed it away once more. The cat did not back away. It sat there, looking calmly up at him. Despite the lighting, those emerald orbs glowed against black pupils. It met his gaze steadily, unwaveringly, not even blinking. Eighth finally looked aside. To search for further wounds, he told himself. He was not unnerved by this feline. He repeated this sternly, as his trembling hands probed Eza's ribs for breaks. Finally, Eighth sat back. Seiju walked up, pushing her head beneath his arm. Eighth scratched her idly, then turned to begin addressing her wounds. We need to leave, Eighth thought, cleaning the wound thoroughly. The Aviar remained resolutely quiet, enduring the probing with only a few shudders. One minion was nearly enough to destroy the both of us. We need to leave, and she needs a surgeon. His back twinged as he began wrapping the wing. I do, as well. Eighth finished treating Seiju. The Aviar would not be flying for a week or so, and then only slowly. He felt a sharp pang at that. "I'm sorry," he said. He didn't know to whom he spoke. He placed the Aviar carefully on his shoulder, then stood up. The pain in his joints was receding. Eighth paced the length of the hallway, walking through their next steps in his mind. He gathered his knockout darts, sliding one into the emptied chamber of his blowpipes. His lightline he found on the floor, next to an ornately bejeweled knife. Eighth tucked that safely away. Debris scattered down the hall, he thought, carefully gathering the quicksilver. The Bloodless must have been rampaging there. Perhaps it broke a way outside. Eighth turned back to Eza. She lay there, oblivious to the world around her. Peaceful, almost. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. The cat watched impassively. Then, careful of her ribs - something was wrong there - Eighth lifted her from the ground. She didn't even stir. He would have carried her in his arms all the way outside. But danger roamed these halls, and he was already so limited. Wincing on her behalf, he draped Eza over his shoulder. Her stomach would hurt fiercely when she awoke. If she ever awakens. Eighth of the Eve turned they way they had initially been headed. Then stopped cold. The cat was there, seated motionlessly in the center of the hallway. Its eyes met his serenely. Eighth looked back, then down the hall, baffled. No cat is that silent. Seiju stirred nervously. "Move," he told it. His voice came out harsher than he'd intended. Something is not right. The cat flicked its tail, but otherwise ignored him. "Move," Eighth said. "Or be moved." Nothing. Eighth began to walk past it - slowly, with the additional weight. The cat didn't even twitch. But behind it, its shadow seemed to stretch to ten times its size, like the silhouette of some monstrous creature. Down the hall, where the head was, spots of light slowly grew. Like eyes. Like the shadow was alive. Eighth halted. Then, not even pausing to consider, he raised his blowpipes. The cat didn't move a muscle. He sighted briefly, then pulled the trigger. The trigger jammed, refusing to budge. Eighth pulled again, and the trigger moved. But rather than flying, the dart splintered apart, scattering harmlessly across the floor. Eighth swore, drawing his blade. Or rather, trying to. The machete only withdrew halfway before lodging in its sheath. Eighth pulled harder, and it seemed to him his coat reached out to entangle his arm. Eighth shook his hand free, then thrust it to the beast before him. The metal veins of his glove flared to life. Then sputtered, the glove emanating odd sounds. Eighth focused harder, but the glow only flickered more fiercely. The quicksilver at his side didn't move at all. He took another step. The shadow loomed, lengths of darkness that might have been claws unsheathing. The uncertain light of his glove didn't even disturb it. Eighth ground his teeth together. Eza seemed an enormous weight on his shoulder. Seiju huddled down. Then he lowered his hand. The light died out. "Fine," he told the creature. "Fine. Take us to your master." The cat flicked its ears, then rose, walking in the opposite direction. Deliberately, it brushed past Eighth's legs, sauntering back towards the cellblock. Towards a being from the Depths themselves. Towards certain death, or worse. The burden on his shoulders weighing him down, Eighth followed. Quote Well then. I'm operating under a few assumptions here. Based on Eza's narration, I'm assuming Eza is injured, overstretched, and going into shock. Also unconscious (the lines "The continuous, wailing screeches from the enraged vampire barely reached her ears." and " But Harmony, she was so tired..." implied unconsciousness to me). Hopefully, that gash in her arm missed the brachial artery. Asylum sent that black cat, which - to me - means the cat has some kind of power. In lieu of straight-up supernatural qualities, I'm assuming its mission from Asylum has given it power over luck (like the superstition). Even though Asylum is not there, Eighth is now unlucky, and will be so long as he acts against the cat's mission, which was “find Eza, protect her and lure her back to me.“ The first directive has been fulfilled, the second was proven unnecessary (or maybe the cat is the only reason that stunt with the cell worked, who knows), and the third is now impossible (for the cat). So, it is forcing Eighth to bring Eza to Asylum. @Lunamor @Stormlightsong Edited August 4 by Longshot97 Accidentally submitted too early. 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Scars of Hathsin he/him Posted July 15 Report Share Posted July 15 20 hours ago, Speeding Steelrunner said: Fenna, Smokestack Constabulary Fenna scowled at him. “Would’ve been better if you led with that, Radiant. I’m just here to help.” And snag some pewter, she added to herself. Fenna turned to see the creature stalking down the hallway. “Harmony!” she swore. “What is that?” The monster burst into motion, rushing towards them. It was quick. Rusts, rusts, rusts! What have I gotten into? @Scars of Hathsin Arranis, Smokestack Constalbury "Well sorry, you were creeping about oddly" he retorts. The vampire lurches down the hallway, it's face's main feature the pure obsidian black eyes. Didi I telly uo how much I hate those things he says to Astra. You may have mentioned it once or twice her mind returns to the multiple times that he had told her that. not much though he grimaces. He turns to the other lady, "It is a beast that needs slaying" he comments, "no need to know what it is". Quote When Fenna broke in did she live debris on the ground, because there may be some wood in there @Speeding Steelrunner 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lunamor she/her Posted July 16 Report Share Posted July 16 1 hour ago, Longshot97 said: Eighth of the Eve held desperately to the cell door, fighting to stay alive. The door was composed entirely of vertical bars, with the only solid section being the lock. The Bloodless was taking full advantage, slashing and stabbing and biting as it tried to force its way out. Patji alone knew how it hadn't escaped yet. His hands burned from the impacts on the frame he was holding shut. He glanced reflexively at his wrist. But no. His lightline was gone, somewhere on the floor behind him. Eza stumbled the cell beside him. Father, but she was in bad shape. Of course, he wasn't much better. Pain wracked his back and shoulders every time he shifted, and hot blood ran down his shirt. She stopped by the door, closing her eyes, as though in pain. The Bloodless rounded on her, snarling its fury. No! Eighth angled his arm, then triggered his blowpipes. The dart flew, lodging in the creature's cheek. The Bloodless screeched wildly, slamming against the door. Eighth jerked his head from a clawed swipe, then dropped from a full-arm stab. His left hand slipped from the door. It was going to escape. He couldn't hold it. He- The lock clicked shut. Eighth threw himself back as the Bloodless rushed the door again. The bars rang loudly from the blow, the metal seeming to quiver at the force. But the door held. The creature threw its head back, howling its fury to the heavens. Clawed hands gripped the steel bars as though to rip them asunder. But no matter how it strained, no matter how it bit or clawed or wrenched, the steel stood strong. Those talons were meant for bloodshed and butchery, not carving through solid steel. Eighth scrambled back from the door, not bothering to get to his feet. He shoved himself away, kicking his feet wildly to gain distance. It was over. They had done it. They were alive. He rolled himself to his side, then just rested there, on his hands and knees. Chest heaving, arms quivering. He was shivering, taking in all that had happened. "Are you alright?" Eighth forced himself up on one knee, deliberately taking stock. His back felt on fire. From his forearms, his arms ached abominably. His head throbbed with pain, though his vision had snapped into focus. A flutter of wings sounded, and Seiju landed awkwardly beside him. She stood just fine, but lines of red blood stood out across one wing. Eighth reached out, carefully holding her in his hands. She was no longer a chick he could cradle, sheltering her with his hands from the world. But she huddled down, nuzzling his hand until he stroked her neck. "Thank you," he said, quietly. She cooed softly. A thump sounded before Eighth. He jerked upright, noticing Eza for the first time. She had fallen to the floor, eyes glassy, hands shaking. She nearly spilled water all over herself as she drank fiercely from a vial. He rose painfully to his feet, walking over to kneel beside her. Blood dripped from her upraised arm, and she curled about her midsection. She looked so small, now. A child really, huddled on the floor, hurting and far from home. Fall's face swam in his mind, hunkered down in the forest floor, underbrush barely sheltering her from the driving rain. Blood had mixed with the water running down her skin. Eighth rose, groping his coat for his bandages. His hands felt clammy. He barely found the small pouch, pulling it free and laying it out. "I'll be fine," he said to Eza. Her eyes were drooping, shoulders shaking. "But you are not." The girl didn't even respond. A small cat, black as midnight, emerged from the shadows. Eighth blinked. When had it arrived? What was it doing here? Did the constables have problems with mice? The little creature butted its head against Eza, as though trying to wake her up. Eighth frowned, shooing it back. Eza's eyes were distant, unfocused. Her head seemed fine. Still, anything could have happened... Eza's eyes rolled back in her head, and she collapsed bonelessly to her side. * * * Eighth of the Eve panicked. It had been sometime since that had happened. He grabbed Eza by the arms, shaking her forcefully. No. No! She didn't stir, not even as her head knocked hollowly against the floor. Calm. Calm yourself, fool! He forced himself to set her down gently, feeling at her wrist, then her neck. Her pulse was there, but weak, faint. Her face was pale, lips nearly blue in the harsh light. Her chest rose only shallowly. Eighth felt frantically for his waterskin. Then stopped, staring blankly at the empty bag. Fool! He tossed it aside, grabbing a clay pot from his coat instead. He crouched low, holding her arm up to the light and examining it closely. Some of the more vicious predators of Lokui delivered venom through hollowed claws. This cut, however, appeared clean. He packed the cut with salve before binding it. He hesitated, then wrapped cloth about her upper arm, tightly enough to restrict blood flow. He did not want her to lose a limb. Still, who knew how long before they escaped? The cat wandered over, sniffing inquisitively at the dressing. Eighth shooed it away once more. The cat did not back away. It sat there, looking calmly up at him. Despite the lighting, those emerald orbs glowed against the black pupil. It met his gaze steadily, unwaveringly, not even blinking. Eighth finally looked aside. To search for further wounds, he told himself. He was not unnerved by this feline. He repeated this sternly, as his trembling hands probed Eza's ribs for breaks. Finally, Eighth sat back. Seiju walked up, pushing her head beneath his arm. Eighth scratched her idly, then turned to begin addressing her wounds. We need to leave, Eighth thought, cleaning the wound thoroughly. The Aviar remained resolutely quiet, enduring the probing with only a few shudders. One minion was nearly enough to destroy the both of us. We need to leave, and she needs a surgeon. His back twinged as he began wrapping the wing. I do, as well. Eighth finished treating Seiju. The Aviar would not be flying for a week or so, and then only slowly. He felt a sharp pang at that. "I'm sorry," he said. He didn't know to whom he spoke. He placed the Aviar carefully on his shoulder, then stood up. The pain in his joints was receding. Eighth paced the length of the hallway, walking through their next steps in his mind. He gathered his knockout darts, sliding one into his emptied blowpipe. His lightline he found on the floor, next an ornately bejeweled knife. Eighth tucked that safely away. Debris scattered down the hall, he thought, carefully gathering the quicksilver. The Bloodless must have been rampaging there. Perhaps it broke a way outside. Eighth turned back to Eza. She lay there, oblivious to the world around her. Peaceful, almost. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. The cat watched impassively. Then, careful of her ribs - something was wrong there - Eighth lifted her from the ground. She didn't even stir. He would have carried her in his arms all the way outside. But danger roamed these halls, and he was already so limited. Wincing on her behalf, he draped Eza over his shoulder. Her stomach would hurt fiercely when she awoke. If she ever awakens. Eighth of the Eve turned they way they had initially been headed. Then stopped cold. The cat was there, seated motionlessly in the center of the hallway. Its eyes met his serenely. Eighth looked back, then down the hall, baffled. No cat is that silent. Seiju stirred nervously. "Move," he told it. His voice came out harsher than he'd intended. Something is not right. The cat flicked its tail, but otherwise ignored him. "Move," Eighth said. "Or be moved." Nothing. Eighth began to walk past it - slowly, with the additional weight. The cat didn't even twitch. But behind it, its shadow seemed to stretch to ten times its size, like the silhouette of some monstrous creature. Down the hall, where the head was, spots of light slowly grew. Like eyes. Like the shadow was alive. Eighth halted. Then, without even pausing to consider, he raised his blowpipes. The cat didn't move a muscle. He sighted briefly, then pulled the trigger. The trigger jammed, refusing to budge. Eighth pulled again, and the trigger moved. But rather than flying, the dart splintered apart, scattering harmlessly across the floor. Eighth swore, drawing his blade. Or rather, trying to. The machete only withdrew halfway before lodging in its sheath. Eighth pulled harder, and it seemed to him his coat reached out to entangle his arm. Eighth shook his hand free, then thrust it to the beast before him. The metal veins of his glove flared to life. Then sputtered, the glove emanating odd sounds. Eighth focused harder, but the glow only flickered more fiercely. The quicksilver at his side didn't move at all. He took another step. The shadow loomed, lengths of darkness that might have been claws unsheathing. The uncertain light of his glove didn't even disturb it. Eighth ground his teeth together. Eza seemed an enormous weight on his shoulder. Seiju huddled down. Then he lowered his hand. The light died out. "Fine," he told the creature. "Fine. Take us to your master." The cat flicked its ears, then rose, walking in the opposite direction. Deliberately, it brushed past Eighth's legs, sauntering back towards the cellblock. Towards a being from the Depths themselves. Towards certain death, or worse. The burden on his shoulders dragging him down, Eighth followed. @Lunamor @Stormlightsong Quote Eza's primary problem at the moment is massive overexertion, so blood loss isn't her most pressing issue (for now). Since Lurchers can exert much more force compared to their body weight, she would've been able to counteract a significant amount of the force from the vampire. She also needed to do the same in the opposite direction to keep herself from moving, though, so it took a significant toll on her body. It was basically the equivalent of anchoring two halves of a rope inside of her chest then playing tug of war, and her build is rather fragile. I think the black cat thing should work fine. (That was a freaking incredible post Longshot, by the way!) Everything was black. Dark. Dark and quiet. No, not quiet. Something was loud. Yelling, or maybe screaming. Was it angry? Upset? Scared? She didn't know if it was her or something else. She'd been doing something important. She couldn't remember what. That probably wasn't a good sign. Why couldn't she move? You could still move with your eyes closed, right? She must be asleep, dreaming. You weren't supposed to hurt in a dream, though. There was a lot of pain, and it felt real. She was moving. But she couldn't move. Someone must be carrying her. Helping her. Keeping her safe. Mother? *** Eza slid in and out of consciousness, the few thoughts she could muster delirious and disjointed. She was limp, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. A soft groan escaped her lips as the small, instinctive part of her that remained aware reacted to the pain concentrated in her torso. Her breathing was shallow, as if her body struggled to move her chest up and down to make room for the air in her lungs. *** Something was very, very wrong. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Speeding Steelrunner Male Posted July 16 Report Share Posted July 16 2 hours ago, Scars of Hathsin said: Arranis, Smokestack Constalbury "Well sorry, you were creeping about oddly" he retorts. The vampire lurches down the hallway, it's face's main feature the pure obsidian black eyes. Didi I telly uo how much I hate those things he says to Astra. You may have mentioned it once or twice her mind returns to the multiple times that he had told her that. not much though he grimaces. He turns to the other lady, "It is a beast that needs slaying" he comments, "no need to know what it is". @Speeding Steelrunner Quote There was debris, but it’s back a bit further. Fenna’s weapon is wood as well. It isn’t sharp, but it could probably work. Fenna, Smokestqck Constabulary Fenna leapt forward, storing weight to maximize her speed. She slowly increased her weight working harder to maintain her speed as she grew heavier. She sped towards the creature, preparing to strike. At the last moment, the monster dodged aside grabbing her arm with a clawed hand, cutting a gash, and swung onto her back. Fenna felt its breath on her neck as it tried to bite her, and she slammed backwards into a wall. The fiend screeched as bones cracked, and it clawed at her shoulders. Fenna leveraged herself away from the wall, increased her weight and smashed herself into the wall again. The monster somehow slipped out from behind her at the last second, and the wall gave beneath Fenna’s weight. She stumbled backwards, losing her balance and falling into the adjacent room in a pike of rubble. @Scars of Hathsin 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Longshot97 he/him Posted July 16 Report Share Posted July 16 (edited) 16 hours ago, Lunamor said: Everything was black. Dark. Dark and quiet. No, not quiet. Something was loud. Yelling, or maybe screaming. Was it angry? Upset? Scared? She didn't know if it was her or something else. She'd been doing something important. She couldn't remember what. That probably wasn't a good sign. Why couldn't she move? You could still move with your eyes closed, right? She must be asleep, dreaming. You weren't supposed to hurt in a dream, though. There was a lot of pain, and it felt real. She was moving. But she couldn't move. Someone must be carrying her. Helping her. Keeping her safe. Mother? *** Eza slid in and out of consciousness, the few thoughts she could muster delirious and disjointed. She was limp, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. A soft groan escaped her lips as the small, instinctive part of her that remained aware reacted to the pain concentrated in her torso. Her breathing was shallow, as if her body struggled to move her chest up and down to make room for the air in her lungs. *** Something was very, very wrong. Quote 16 hours ago, Lunamor said: Eza's primary problem at the moment is massive overexertion, so blood loss isn't her most pressing issue (for now). Since Lurchers can exert much more force compared to their body weight, she would've been able to counteract a significant amount of the force from the vampire. She also needed to do the same in the opposite direction to keep herself from moving, though, so it took a significant toll on her body. It was basically the equivalent of anchoring two halves of a rope inside of her chest then playing tug of war, and her build is rather fragile. That makes sense. Hopefully, there's a healer around. Or maybe Asylum can heal. Who knows. Speaking of which @Stormlightsong it looks like Eighth and Eza are coming your way. One is borderline comatose, the other is probably on his last legs. The ball is in your court. Eighth heard a small groan from behind him. Eza. She was waking up. Or maybe in so much pain that, even unconscious, she couldn't help but express it. How badly hurt is she? Eighth of the Eve hesitated, then reached up and slung Eza from his shoulder into his arms. That should take the pressure off her abdomen. Her head rested in the crook of his elbow, her legs curled in a fetal position. His arms were full, now. If anything attacked, he would lose precious seconds setting her down safely. He could be endangering both of them. Somehow, Eighth couldn't bring himself to care care. The shadowcat could have killed him and Eza in a heartbeat - he was certain of it. If it wanted them dead, then they would be dead, simple as that. No. The mastermind behind this wanted them alive. Or at least one of us. Besides, hearing Eza in pain...it broke Eighth's heart. She was the reason they were here, but he had promised to see her and her friend to safety. She had saved him from certain death. If he had been locked up, stripped of his gear and helpless as that skinwalker swept through the constabulary... And he cared about her. Deeply. She was the niece he hadn't driven away, the child that might have been. She had saved his life not once, not twice, but three times. Probably more. She had trusted him. For the first time in so many moons, she had not shunned him as others had. Please, Patji. Please, Father. Spare this girl. You have taken so much from me. Grant me this much. @Stormlightsong @Lunamor Edited July 16 by Longshot97 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Stormlightsong Posted July 19 Report Share Posted July 19 (edited) Asylum walked into the break room followed by two zombies, each carrying two restrained prisoners, and one vampire who was trying desperately not to feed on it’s own. The room was rectangular; on one side there were tables and chairs, on the other there was a small buffet. Walking briskly, Asylum made their way to a door that lead into a small kitchen. Opening a cabinet, they found what they were looking for. —————————————————— In the center of the room, three flawless salt circles were arranged. Directly adjacent to each, there was a prisoner. In the center, between the salt circles, lay the fourth prisoner, surrounded by non-ritual empty salt shakers. With a swift slice, the middle prisoner spilled their jugular blood. Asylum drew crimson sigils as the three prisoners surrounding them whimpered through their gags. As Asylum started to whisper the incantation smoke began to rise from the salt circles, one green, one yellow, and one red. Once Asylum finished the ritual, they heaved their withering body towards the fifth and final prisoner. Having siphoned the man’s life, Asylum stood to face the demons. In each salt circle stood an undulating pillar of smoke; as the demon’s attention turned on them, Asylum spoke, “Welcome, Horsemen of the apocalypse!” Asylum motioned towards the green, yellow, and red demon respectively, “Pestilence, Famine, War! I have called you here to bring forth destruction and death! Join the final ride and take your places by my side!” It was silent, until “who are you?“, “I’m not very good with horses, you sure you got the right guy?“, and “why can’t I move?“ taking a deep breath, Asylum addressed them in turn, “you may call me death, I never really thought the horses were necessary, and SALT!” Asylum composed themself and thought of saying a short prayer before thinking better of it. “Look, I have called you here, to be the Harbingers of the end times, could you please be more professional?” They motioned towards the remaining prisoners as they spoke. “I give you hosts so you may walk in this realm freely on the condition that you follow me. Am I clear?” “yeah“ “that makes sense“ “I’m still confused about the horses“ On 7/15/2024 at 11:28 PM, Longshot97 said: Eighth heard a small groan from behind him. Eza. She was waking up. Or maybe in so much pain that, even unconscious, she couldn't help but express it. How badly hurt is she? Eighth of the Eve hesitated, then reached up and slung Eza from his shoulder into his arms. That should take the pressure off her abdomen. Her head rested in the crook of his elbow, her legs curled in a fetal position. His arms were full, now. If anything attacked, he would lose precious seconds setting her down safely. He could be endangering both of them. Somehow, Eighth couldn't bring himself to care care. The shadowcat could have killed him and Eza in a heartbeat - he was certain of it. If it wanted them dead, then they would be dead, simple as that. No. The mastermind behind this wanted them alive. Or at least one of us. Besides, hearing Eza in pain...it broke Eighth's heart. She was the reason they were here, but he had promised to see her and her friend to safety. She had saved him from certain death. If he had been locked up, stripped of his gear and helpless as that skinwalker swept through the constabulary... And he cared about her. Deeply. She was the niece he hadn't driven away, the child that might have been. She had saved his life not once, not twice, but three times. Probably more. She had trusted him. For the first time in so many moons, she had not shunned him as others had. Please, Patji. Please, Father. Spare this girl. You have taken so much from me. Grant me this much. @Stormlightsong @Lunamor “THERE ARE NO HORSES!” Asylum yelled at Famine. Behind them, they heard the faint step of paws. “Now, we will soon have visitors, so get into your bodies and compose yourselves.” The demons moved into their respective prisoners in a swift movement of smoke. When they rose they had started to personalize their bodies. Pestilence looked sickly with bright emerald eyes; there body was covered in warts and buboes. Famine was pale and thin as a skeleton; their ribs were showing, and their eyes shown bright yellow. But war was the most disturbing; their size had doubled, their skin was taut against bulging muscles. War’s eyes were bloodshot, and their pupils pinpricks in seas of red. Death smiled and turned their blackened eyes toward the door to greet the coming visitors. Quote Sorry I took so long, but oh boy is this getting complicated. First of all, of course Asylum (maybe Death now?) cannot create life, so what are these new “Demons”? Like Belias, these “Demons” are spirits of the Alleys (albeit much weaker ones.) and just so no one is confused: green is pestilence, yellow is Famine, and red is war. Now to explain their powers! Pestilence can make people sick, Famine can drain energy, And War is really strong and can bring forth violent emotions (kind of like a rioter) Like everything else Asylum can do, these powers can be countered by “the forces of light and holiness” so basically protection charms and probably Stormlight. @Scars of Hathsin @Lunamor @Speeding Steelrunner @Koloss17 Edited July 19 by Stormlightsong 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Longshot97 he/him Posted July 20 Report Share Posted July 20 (edited) On 7/19/2024 at 10:14 AM, Stormlightsong said: Asylum walked into the break room followed by two zombies, each carrying two restrained prisoners, and one vampire who was trying desperately not to feed on it’s own. The room was rectangular; on one side there were tables and chairs, on the other there was a small buffet. Walking briskly, Asylum made their way to a door that lead into a small kitchen. Opening a cabinet, they found what they were looking for. —————————————————— In the center of the room, three flawless salt circles were arranged. Directly adjacent to each, there was a prisoner. In the center, between the salt circles, lay the fourth prisoner, surrounded by non-ritual empty salt shakers. With a swift slice, the middle prisoner spilled their jugular blood. Asylum drew crimson sigils as the three prisoners surrounding them whimpered through their gags. As Asylum started to whisper the incantation smoke began to rise from the salt circles, one green, one yellow, and one red. Once Asylum finished the ritual, they heaved their withering body towards the fifth and final prisoner. Having siphoned the man’s life, Asylum stood to face the demons. In each salt circle stood an undulating pillar of smoke; as the demon’s attention turned on them, Asylum spoke, “Welcome, Horsemen of the apocalypse!” Asylum motioned towards the green, yellow, and red demon respectively, “Pestilence, Famine, War! I have called you here to bring forth destruction and death! Join the final ride and take your places by my side!” It was silent, until “who are you?“, “I’m not very good with horses, you sure you got the right guy?“, and “why can’t I move?“ taking a deep breath, Asylum addressed them in turn, “you may call me death, I never really thought the horses were necessary, and SALT!” Asylum composed themself and thought of saying a short prayer before thinking better of it. “Look, I have called you here, to be the Harbingers of the end times, could you please be more professional?” They motioned towards the remaining prisoners as they spoke. “I give you hosts so you may walk in this realm freely on the condition that you follow me. Am I clear?” “yeah“ “that makes sense“ “I’m still confused about the horses“ “THERE ARE NO HORSES!” Asylum yelled at Famine. Behind them, they heard the faint step of paws. “Now, we will soon have visitors, so get into your bodies and compose yourselves.” The demons moved into their respective prisoners in a swift movement of smoke. When they rose they had started to personalize their bodies. Pestilence looked sickly with bright emerald eyes; there body was covered in warts and buboes. Famine was pale and thin as a skeleton; their ribs were showing, and their eyes shown bright yellow. But war was the most disturbing; their size had doubled, their skin was taut against bulging muscles. War’s eyes were bloodshot, and their pupils pinpricks in seas of red. Death smiled and turned their blackened eyes toward the door to greet the coming visitors. Eighth of the Eve followed the black cat. Seiju huddled at his shoulder, eyes drooping. It had been a long day for her. Thankfully, she remained awake enough to guide his steps. The ground trembled every so often, accompanied with cries and shouts of pain echoing down the halls, but the Aviar kept his stride smooth. Eza curled up in his arms, breathing ragged and faint. She seemed to weight nothing in his arms. So slight, so frail. The cat was approaching the intersection. To the left, the cellblock door was flung open, flickering light spilling into the hall. Beyond there was escape. Beyond that bloodied hall was safety. As though hearing his thoughts, the cat stopped, turning its head to regard Eighth calmly. Its shadow followed suit a moment too late, spots of light seeming to pin Eighth in place. It flicked its tail, then meandered to the right. The shadow lingered, staring at Eighth, before following the small feline. Eighth ground his teeth, but turned as well. There was no point. It wasn't as though he could lift Eza out their small skylight. Well, not before pursuers caught up with them. This was their best chance. Her best chance. Her only chance. The cat strode serenely down the hall, almost delicately stepping over a few spots of blood, stopping before an open door. The smell of cooked food wafted out alongside blood and decay, and Eighth's stomach turned. The cat stepped through the door. And Eighth followed. He didn't know what he'd been expecting. But this was worse. Distant Father... Blood puddled around a corpse, prone on the floor. Unmoving, thankfully. Arranged about it were three circles of white powder. Salt? Besides them, three forms stood. And Eighth's heart all but froze in his chest. A bulbous, pestilent man stood, impossibly upright despite the ailments that visibly wracked his body. Eighth felt sick just looking at him. The mucus green of his eyes wavered in the light, like smoke above a fire. The yellow-eyed man was thin; painfully so. His clothes hung about a spindly frame, with skin wrapped tight about harsh, bony edges. Eighth licked his lips, his mouth suddenly bone-dry. And then... Oh Father. Oh, Patji. The man's eyes were completely red. Muscle swelled impossibly about his frame. Those eyes met his, and tore his eyes away. Horrible, terrible rage loomed in that body. It could hardly be human. And, of course, it. Skinwalker. Demon. Depthbringer. Asylum Smedry. The man stood over a withered husk, blood dripping from his hands and staining his suitcoat. It was almost entirely red now, so saturated as to appear black. That, however, paled in comparison to his eyes. Like pools of midnight, pierced by a the spots of abyss that were his pupils. His skin had smoothed over, teeth and nails pristinely white. Even that could not hide this monstrosity's nature. Eighth's eyes flicked to the shriveled mass of flesh at Asylum's feet. The shadowcat stretched, then padded over to its master, rubbing up against the man's ankles. Its eyes, however, remained on Eighth. Its shadow undulated unnaturally. Eighth of the Eve stood, Eza cradled in his arms. His back felt on fire. His face was a mask of stillness - trapper's impassivity flowed where emotion failed. "Asylum Smedry," Eighth said. His voice felt distant. "We have come, as your minion bade us. What are your demands?" Quote No worries about how long it took. This is exciting - I haven't seen this much Christian imagery in a Sanderson setting since The Rithmatist. Yeah, I wasn't sure how to have Eighth interact with Asylum. He's terrified, plain and simple, but refuses to show it. Doesn't make for interesting dialogue, at least not yet. About the word Depthbringer. I took the creative liberty of deciding that the Eelakin version of Hell is closely related to the ocean, thanks to their terror of the deepwalkers. Thus, the word Depth. To Eighth, Asylum is some manner of hellborn. And yes, I know the Eelakin are inspired by Polynesian culture, and skinwalker is a Native American term. I thought it fit, and it's such a cool word. I'm keeping it. @Stormlightsong @Lunamor Edited July 23 by Longshot97 Tightening up dialogue 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Scars of Hathsin he/him Posted July 21 Report Share Posted July 21 On 7/16/2024 at 12:18 PM, Speeding Steelrunner said: Fenna, Smokestqck Constabulary Fenna leapt forward, storing weight to maximize her speed. She slowly increased her weight working harder to maintain her speed as she grew heavier. She sped towards the creature, preparing to strike. At the last moment, the monster dodged aside grabbing her arm with a clawed hand, cutting a gash, and swung onto her back. Fenna felt its breath on her neck as it tried to bite her, and she slammed backwards into a wall. The fiend screeched as bones cracked, and it clawed at her shoulders. Fenna leveraged herself away from the wall, increased her weight and smashed herself into the wall again. The monster somehow slipped out from behind her at the last second, and the wall gave beneath Fenna’s weight. She stumbled backwards, losing her balance and falling into the adjacent room in a pike of rubble. @Scars of Hathsin Arranis, Smokestack Contalbury Arranis watches as the lady tries to use her powers against the arcane creature. That will not work He grins. Charging towards the beast, and lashing himself in it's direction, right to the pile of rubble that was on the ground. "This is one good thing about being a crasher" he mutters under his breath picking up one of the wooden support beams, and lashing it towards the other lady. "This will help kill it" he yells. Before picking up his own. Arranis lashes himself once again, Astra curling around his body as he fell. His wooden pole before him. Die filthy beast he curses to himself @Speeding Steelrunner @Stormlightsong 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Speeding Steelrunner Male Posted July 21 Report Share Posted July 21 19 minutes ago, Scars of Hathsin said: Arranis watches as the lady tries to use her powers against the arcane creature. That will not work He grins. Charging towards the beast, and lashing himself in it's direction, right to the pile of rubble that was on the ground. "This is one good thing about being a crasher" he mutters under his breath picking up one of the wooden support beams, and lashing it towards the other lady. "This will help kill it" he yells. Before picking up his own. Arranis lashes himself once again, Astra curling around his body as he fell. His wooden pole before him. Die filthy beast he curses to himself Fenna, Smokestack Constabulary Fenna flared pewter and pushed herself upright, slamming her fist into the creature’s face, just as it turned away to face the Radiant. Its head snapped backwards, then it retaliated with a clawing swipe. A glowing chunk of wood flew by, and Fenna grabbed on, storing weight. She dodged the attack, pulled by the beam, the tapped weight halting the wood. Flaring her pewter, Fenna tugged on the wood and pulled it forwards, slamming the improvised weapon into the monster’s head. It stumbled backwards into the path of the Radiant as he fell down the hallway like a glowing spear. @Scars of Hathsin 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Scars of Hathsin he/him Posted July 24 Report Share Posted July 24 On 7/22/2024 at 9:52 AM, Speeding Steelrunner said: Fenna, Smokestack Constabulary Fenna flared pewter and pushed herself upright, slamming her fist into the creature’s face, just as it turned away to face the Radiant. Its head snapped backwards, then it retaliated with a clawing swipe. A glowing chunk of wood flew by, and Fenna grabbed on, storing weight. She dodged the attack, pulled by the beam, the tapped weight halting the wood. Flaring her pewter, Fenna tugged on the wood and pulled it forwards, slamming the improvised weapon into the monster’s head. It stumbled backwards into the path of the Radiant as he fell down the hallway like a glowing spear. @Scars of Hathsin Quote Do you think my attack would damage the vampire in any way @Speeding Steelrunner @Stormlightsong 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Speeding Steelrunner Male Posted July 24 Report Share Posted July 24 (edited) @Scars of Hathsin Quote If the wood hits the vampire in the heart, it should kill it. Even if it misses the heart, it would get impaled, which should at least temporarily incapacitate it. Edited July 24 by Speeding Steelrunner 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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