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The Crossroads
Topic Started: May 7 2010, 11:19 PM (7,033 Views)
~beflexor~
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I just _____ in the _____.

"Yes, the converter coil is completely unreliable," Lorrilal said to Nick Scanlan, looking over to the ship as she took a large bite of her burger, the cheese and pickle juice threatening to come out the opposite end. In reality, Lorrilal had no idea what a converter coil even was, but she was willing to bet it was always busting on them. Everything was.

"We almost suffocated once when a rat chewed through some cables and caused the oxygen to fail. Nick, our Nick," she said with a smirk, "managed to crawl through the vents and fix things. He never found the rat, but we knew it had died because, while we had air again, it smelled bad."

The girl sighed wistfully. "I didn't really think about him much, but now that he's gone I realize I do miss him. He claimed to be an Etecoon-based Galactic Federation experiment. Etecoons are those small, furry things that are known for climbing walls really well. I don't think he is though. You can't take one creature and turn it into a whole other one. He strikes me as another kind of experiment, one of the human condition. How far can something go, what kind of new things can you come up with to do, before it breaks?"

She looked again at the ship. "She really is quite pretty, and she's a lot like all of us. How we take everything in our way with stride and keep going. We all may not look the best on the outside, but we all have soul. Someday...someday there will be a time when she can't fly anymore, but it won't be today, and it won't be tomorrow. Perhaps next year but yes, with some work, we can keep her going longer than that. People need work too, maybe not a new converter coil, and most of us don't have a problem with a dead rat, but without work we're just another piece of nothing floating distant in the darkest reaches of space. Frozen..."

She took another bite and smiled at Scanlan. "This burger is delicious!"

~

Ben took the scotch and sipped, the moment the burning liquid hit his throat he began to cough. While it was fine, it was also quite strong, and the cargo ship captain wondered briefly if it was borderline explosive. He was used to the cheapest thing he could find, foul-tasting and sometimes diluted with water or even something he swore was antifreeze.

He turned down the cigarette for two reasons, he didn't smoke and, if it was anything comparable to the scotch, would likely give him cancer at the first drag.

Ben studied the photo of the woman named Grace. She seemed familiar, but nothing in particular struck a chord in his memory. They could have passed each other by weeks ago, or maybe she'd been hired to kill him some years ago. Of course, she struck him as the type of girl who worked at making people forget her face, where most women worked hard to stand out.

He looked from that photo to those of himself and his former crew and, for the first time, it actually hurt to remember their smiling faces. It had started with Trisha, she was like a sister to him from the very beginning. Nick was like a brother, even Enigma had taken a motherly or aunt-like role. Something clicked inside of him right then.

"Ah no," he mumbled. "It's not about the cat," he took a large swallow of the scotch, this time expecting and welcoming the burning sensation. His voice was hoarse for a moment as he spoke. "Lorrilal was asking about a cat today and, when I told her no, she wanted-" he wondered if Henry really ought to know about the multiple Trishas he held in his ship and shrugged, it wasn't really a secret, and it was likely he'd heard rumors already. "She wanted the Trisha bodies blown out the airlock. I never really considered what Lori thought of all this. I mean, I think of Trisha as a sister, but Trisha really was a half-blood related sister to Lorrilal. Her mother and her sister both died on the same day, her mother by suicide and now she has to see her dead sister's face every single day. It- it's like a goddamned mockery!" He thumped his fist on his knee. "She doesn't show her emotions much, I'm not sure if she's even able to, and it's caused me to forget can feel as strongly as anyone else can."

To think he was having an epiphany brought on by a man who had smashed kneecaps to climb the corporate ladder. What did he do from here though? There was a chance that maybe, by finding all of the Trishas and bringing them together, it could restore her. Lorrilal had spoken of them acting strangely at times, but he had never really listened. He couldn't send them out an airlock, or let them run free in some wilderness habitat.

Actually that would be pretty funny. Ben imagined Trishas romping through a forest while a hidden camera crew did a nature film of them. The mental image, and the alcohol he was consuming with increasing speed, caused a giggle to escape his lips. The giggle soon turned into a sob.

"What do I do?" Ben cried. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he was getting older, grey hairs had just started to spring up at his sideburns. There was no one left on his ship, which gave a death rattle once in a while, except for him and a little girl whom he didn't see for days on end sometimes. Couple that with the fact that Trisha was dead and he couldn't quite accept it, instead chasing news of appearances of bodies with an uncanny resemblance to her save for the fact that their eyes were empty and soulless.

All that, and his ship smelled like a dead rat and he was a man crying in front of a man who had no doubt earned the nickname Savage Henry.

~

Nick looked up at Kalos when he mentioned a smell, noting that the Chozo was familiar. They had ended up working together during difficult times and had might even considered the other a friend. Long absences and other lives for them both changed that however.

We were never friends though, not really. Nick thought. Just allies. Trisha touched a lot of people, and I suppose even if this bird liked me at any point. I am not what I once was. It looks like he isn't either.

By now the extended time of the vial's contents mixing with the air would produce a strange earthy, almost moldy, stench. Some races were more sensitive to it than others, even going as far as having a negative reaction bad enough to wind up in a hospital. There had been no deaths however.

At least, none they had told Nick about.

Nick shrugged, they just didn't trust him enough yet, that was all.

~

Warning. Came a computerized voice. Foreign blockage in ventilation. Rapid growth of biological materials detected.

The voice didn't make it to anyone who would put a stop to it however, as a virus came down in it. Her hand was smooth over the computer, and Squirt imagined herself putting a cloth soaked with chlorophorm over someone's mouth.

W-w-w-warnnnnning. The computer struggled.

"Shhh," Squirt whispered almost lovingly.

B-blo-blockage in ventila-ventilation

"Would you like to hear a song?" Squirt replied, resting her head against the desk.

Biological materialsssssss d-detected.

Squirt sang.

She dances to remember
She dances to forget
She's the strangest girl
You have ever met

She dances to remember
She dances to forget
They say that she is one
Of a whole big set


Squirt finished and added, "I don't know the rest of the words. I haven' t made them yet. They're about a friend."

The computer was down to only incomprehensible babble.

"I'm scared," Squirt said for the machine as it began its final complaints.

"I know," she replied to herself, turning off the now blank monitor. "We all are."

Squirt didn't even know what it was warning against.

~

Nick's handiwork had gone off without a hitch. The vial's contents made it into the air system, spores growing quicker than any plant on Earth. The mold clogging systems and bursting into more spores that made their way further in. When it found areas more humid, like kitchens or a cafeteria, it grew thicker. When it reached the water stores, it truly thrived.

It ate through lower grade metals easily, the metal rusting and being absorbed for the trace minerals it needed, spreading it to areas that required more. As it grew and reached electronics it rolled across them, smothering them.

Sections of lighting began to flicker and dim, computers failed and, perhaps most disturbing of all, the attack was really quite beautiful.

Soon huge, orange flowers with narrow petals that looked like lilies began to sprout, and the damp, dirt smell was replaced by a sweet, fragrant one.

White beetles with sparkling shells, another release from one of Nick's team, buzzed and clicked as they flew around inside the vents, attracted to the smell of the flowers.

Overall it was planned to be a harmless display, but one that they hoped spoke volumes, saying You are weak, look at what can happen to your machines. You technology built up over years to be returned to the dirt in a moment's time.

All the while, Nick simply leaned against a wall and looked as nonchalant as he could. Still, one thing worried him. Alarms should have been going off by now. What happened if no one knew to stop it? It had always been halted before it could do too much severe damage, but what if it kept going?

He took a deep breath to try and calm himself, but the air smelled like flowers.
Someone made the mistake of letting me publish a book, check Dusted Here!
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~Bloody Pom~
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(OOC: Ta-daaaa, I posted.)

Fiera perhaps twitched a little at the armoured one's annoyed grunt; she needed to work on being more subtle. Relaxing a little when it seemed that was that, it didn't last long. The girl went rigid once more when a voice seemingly directed at her spoke out from a hooded figure that she could have sworn wasn't there a moment ago.

"Um... I'm afraid I'm as clueless as you are." was her timid response, tailtip twitching nervously. She did relax a little, however; he seemed human (for the most part) and unlike a lot of the people around here, wasn't much taller than her. In a galaxy where it was rare for a non-human to average less than six feet tall, she understandably felt small.

A few minutes passed, and the two of them seemed to get the answer they were looking for.

"Wow. Talk about a fixer-upper. That's what we're all waiting for?" murmured the feline under her breath. She had been expecting something a little grander, but it was work and therefore something to alleviate her boredom, so she couldn't complain. Money? It was a nice bonus, but she had money. She just didn't like paying bills with it.

Turning to Aryon, she nodded sideways towards the woman who had exited the vessel. "Well, if that's the ship you're talking about, make your move. Doesn't sound like she's taking many passengers." With that, she wheeled around on the ball of her foot once more and made her way over towards this... 'Finn', she thought it was.

"Excuse me. Correct if I'm wrong, but you're the one who posted a job opening for a mechanic, right? The ship name fits, at least." Sure, Fiera didn't look like the type to be a wrench monkey, but being on the small side made it easier for her to fit into tight spaces her full human counterparts would just get stuck in.

She wasn't sure, but she had a feeling that this woman was the one she was looking for. Something was distracting her, however... she'd caught an odd scent in that sensitive nose of hers... almost like freshly tilled soil. Not a smell one would normally find in a hangar.

"What in the-" Fiera cut herself off when something soft began to slide off her wrist. Looking at it, her eyes widened somewhat as the cheap digital watch that had once been there rotted before her eyes, eventually crumbling away from her wrist entirely. "The fuaah...-" She suddenly shuddered and sneezed violently, her eyes watering; she must have been having a mild reaction to the spores filling the air.

Rubbing her nose and blinking a few times to clear her eyes, she looked around to see that the phenomenon wasn't merely in her immediate surroundings; the strange rot plaguing lower-grade metals, the flowers sprouting from the corroded areas and the beetles milling around painted quite a surreal image for the woman.

"Well this is... interesting."

(OOC: Edited to account for B's post)
Edited by Bloody Pom, Jun 1 2010, 10:39 AM.
"A battle for supremacy against many foes is a battle of the best kind. There are few considerations, only those concerning where to place your next shot. It is war in its purest form." - Commander Karziel, Ultramarines 5th Company

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"Well, if that's the ship you're talking about, make your move. Doesn't sound like she's taking many passengers," the feline said.

"I believe it is, thank you." Aryon nodded to her as she turned on her heel to continue her business. He appreciated her kindness, but had inwardly hoped to have a bit of a longer conversation... talk was something that came rarely to him anymore, since the times he had roamed the galaxy for evils to hunt--

His thoughts were cut short as a small tingling sensation began to creep up his arm. It startled him, so he instinctively whipped his hand up level to his face to investigate. There was nothing happening on the glove itself, so he tore it off. Underneath the cloth of the glove, his fingertips were beginning to decompose, the airy mold spores simultaneously wreaking havoc on the ventilation systems having seeped through the pores of his clothing to attack his metallic skin.

He stared in horror as the SynthSkin that coated his hand gradually and simply disappeared, falling to the ground as soil and leaving his blotchy remnants of skin underneath. A terrible pain swept through his body, leaving him paralyzed in what seemed much too similar to crimes that should have been left to the past...

~

He remembered everything.

The scientists stood over him, the real Aryon, fully covered in a regular skin, not the metal substitute that he was forced to bear afterward. Aryon glared at the man in the white labcoat, but could do nothing, as he was securely fastened to the steel lab table. A sharp sting broke the movelessness of the room as the researcher injected the newest toxin into the young boy's body.

It was supposed to be a chemical to encourage rapid cellular regeneration. It was destined to be something else entirely.

Slowly, Aryon's skin began to dissolve. It spread from the injection site, his confused and worried cries for help simply disregarded as the scientists did their job: they observed. Aryon thrashed wildly, struggling to free himself from the thick leather straps, but ended up only rocking the table, eventually tipping it over on its side. He screamed to those who were not listening, his life slowly bleeding out of every square inch of his body.

When his voice had finally left him, he simply looked around worriedly. He tried to find someone who was coming to help, and almost thought he had found it when another scientist burst into the room. He looked hopefully at the woman, but she ran past him to the scientists with a frenzied look on her face.

The Beflexor project had just had a major breakthrough, and all personnel were ordered to return to the main laboratory for a quick briefing.

All of the scientists ran out of the room, excited looks on their faces, except one. He knelt down to Aryon, and gently shoved another syringe into the boy's arm.

The man's face was all Aryon could focus on as the man simply said, "Sleep child, fall into sleep..."

Aryon would. He would remain comatose until he woke up in his cell, coated in a metal skin so that he could continue his service as human experiment.

~

His robes had begun to stick to his skin, so he cast them off. All the while, he was whimpering, "No, no no no, no no no no no no nononononono..." He stood there, horrified, as his skin began to detach itself from his body once again, bit by bit. What shook him to his core is that beetles, crawling out of the ventilation systems, had begun to orbit him, latching onto him in places and feeding on the flower buds that seemed to grow from his very essence.

Angrily Aryon crushed them, one by one, as they came, rummaging through his robes for a familiar syringe. The same chemical that the doctor had injected him with so many years ago was something he relied on now. It was filled with nanites that would rebuild his skin, since his body could no longer do it for him.

Aryon's hand stumbled upon it at last, and he hastily thrust it into his arm. The burning sensation stopped, but his skin did not immediately begin to regrow. The mold and the nanites were fighting tooth and nail, mold devouring the nanites as the nanites reproduced themselves at the same pace. Soil surrounded Aryon, thankfully not seeping into his shoes; the reaction was now isolated to a few areas of his body

He groaned from the pain, slipping his robes back on his body with a grimace. The nanites would slowly push out the mold, but it would be a long and arduous process that would take many hours. Looking around the docking bay, Aryon spotted a man, a glass vial shattered near his feet.

The man was so familiar, but that was not what he was focused on. He shambled over to the man, making every attempt to grab the man and shove him against the wall, but his pain was too much.

"Why?!" he demanded, Aryon's metal visage no longer hidden by the robe's hood. "You did this! Why?!"

(OOC: Sorry if this got worse as the post goes on, I'm in class right now, trying to study and write at the same time. :X )
Edited by Metamyth, Jun 1 2010, 11:41 AM.
"Nothing... a shadow is nothing. It is merely a question not yet answered. We only fear the dark if we have no means of lighting our way.

Death comes to all, Morningstar. The world turns, the dawn comes... and under the light of the sun I shall slay giants."


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~DarkKnightCuron~
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"Strange...stink...?" Z'Gato inquired and, as if his curiosity was piqued, he cautiously removed his helmet, the artificial atmosphere within and sealers hissing as he popped the locks. His face revealed, his eyes were of a brilliant sapphires, yet his face was scared heavily on its left side. He took several deep breathes, smelling at the air for a long while before looking down at the other Chozo, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"As much as this place reeks of human, you're right...Theres...something odd in the air--" Z'Gato began until someone in the crowd started sneezing and then another started yelling something. "What the--?"
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"So I'm not imagining it...Hm?"

*Kalos looked around as he heard someone start screaming as well as someone sneezing. While that grabbed his attention for a bit, something else quickly stole it away...*

"Hm... I think...it's changing?..."

*The old Chozo turned his statement into a question since it wasn't everyday that an odd smell was quickly replaced with a much more floral one in a matter of moments. He brought his free hand up, absently scratching the bright blue marking on his face as he looked up.*

"...What could that be?...This is very strange..."
"Listen well! I'll stand on top of all living things! I am now a new creature that cuts open the future!"
"Weakling, Weakling!"
"It's useless useless USELESS!"
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(OOC: Okay, here goes. Cemp and Pom, any problems, feel free to yell at me. I really, really hope this was worth the wait for you guys.)

Scanlan smiled as he listened to Lorrilal talk so lovingly about the ship, despite her condition, and smiled even wider when she complimented his cooking. His mind drifted back to the ship though, and the tales the little girl told.

"Rats ain't no problem," he said. "Just set you a couple traps - or maybe just get a cat - and it'll take care o' itself. Now bugs... bugs're a bit tricker. Still, even if you gotta get guys to come in and spray, usually ain't no big deal. Leave her docked for a day or two, stay in a hotel..." He trailed off, suddenly remembering just how disheveled Lorillal and Ben looked. "Well, it does cost a bit o' coin.

"Well anyway, what I'm tryin' to say is, the real problem on a ship is mold. Especially if you're the type who visits all kinds o' different planets will all kind o' freaky plant n' animal life, and you get some o' that alien fungus in there with you...

......................

"Stuff gets all over the lower compartments, the pipes, just spreads and spreads like the damn plague. Bound to make some folk sick."

"Excuse me. Correct if I'm wrong, but you're the one who posted a job opening for a mechanic, right? The ship name fits, at least."

Finn turned around at the sound of the voice to come face to face with some cat-woman-thing. She had been showing Alana her papers, all of which were long expired but otherwise seemingly legit. Hopefully that would put the woman at ease for the moment. And now this cat-thing was asking about a job. She shouldn't have been surprised seeing her, not in this part of the galaxy. She had a hard time focusing though.

Did they need a mechanic? She couldn't remember. She looked at the papers the cat was handing her, staring at them for several moments and yet not registering a single thing. Her mind was a million miles away.

"As long as you can turn a wrench," Finn finally said. "C'mon, we're on a tight schedule. We have to get moving."

"Once them spores get in the ventilation and the life support though, that's it. It starts to take over the ship. And then it's like cancer. And the only way to stop it is to go in and nuke it."

No sooner had the words come out of her mouth that the man in the tattered robe started melting. Or maybe eroding. Whatever it was, something horrible was happening to this man. His skin had turned to rust or dirt or some similar substance and had fallen off his body. At first, Finn thought it was a hallucination, but it quickly became clear that other people were seeing what she was seeing, and that it was spreading. Not to the other individuals, but to the station itself.

"Okay, you see? That is why we've got to get the hell out of here right now!"

Finn grabbed both Fiera and Alana and practically dragged them through the corridor, trying to get them all as far away as they could from the man in the robe, apparently the source of all that was happening. At least, that was how it appeared to her.

Finally, they reached the docking bay, now at a full sprint, trying not to get trampled along the way by the panicking crowd. Finn led the woman and the cat-woman towards the Demeter, opening the hatch and sealing it shut once they were all aboard.

For the moment, at least, they were safe.

......................

"Well, you don't really gotta nuke it, but you know what I mean." Nick flashed Lorillal a big grin.

"But don't you be talkin' 'bout her not flyin' no more. I tell ya, once me n' Ronnie get to work on her, she'll still be flyin' long after all of us're gone. I can guarantee you that."

......................

Henry hadn't expected Ben to break down right there in front of him. Then again, he hadn't been prepared for just how broken this boy was. It was one thing to be desperate, to have fallen on hard times. But Ben... Ben had checked out of life. It saddened Henry to think of what might have happened to him had he not had the little girl to think about.

And then in the midst of the sobbing, Henry did something unexpected. He came over to the other side of the desk and put his hand on Ben's shoulder.

"Think I've never shed a tear before?" he said. "Go on and cry son. Feel what you need to feel. Every last ounce."

He half sat, half leaned on the desk, looking down on Ben. "Now listen to me," he said, lifting Ben's chin up to face him. "I wish I could say I had all the answers for you, but I don't. And given what I told you earlier, I'm probably the last person you'd want parenting advice from. But what I can do is help you, if you let me. I can help you earn a living, and I can help you protect that little girl.

"All I have to do is make a couple of calls, put the word out that Ben Phoenix is untouchable. Even the Feds won't bother you after that. And anybody still pursuing you or Lorillal, whether they be from the Origin or just someone you happened to piss off along the way, they'll know soon enough that if any harm comes to either of you they'll have me to deal with.

"And if you want to try and solve the mystery, I can help you with that too. I know doctors who understand the importance of discretion. They can run some tests on these clones or whatever they are, perhaps determine their source. Grace is also a pretty good detective when she wants to be, I can have her go out and ask some questions. And if that doesn't work, I can send out Nick and Ronnie. They usually ask by smashing peoples' faces through windows, so either way you'll get your answers.

"I can do all of this and more for you, Ben. I don't ask for much. Just a little off the top. In return, I give you a living, I offer you protection. I can be the best friend you've ever had. But only if you accept my help."

......................

Demeter

Now safely within the confines of the freighter, Finn began to visibly relax. She led Fiera and Alana through the hall from the airlock and into the mess hall/common area and flicked on the lights. Expect for the three of them, the ship was silent and empty. Probably the reason they were recruiting.

Finn took off her bomber jacket and tossed it aside. Underneath she had on a black tank top, and her right arm was covered in a sleeve tattoo from wrist to shoulder, dominated by a red dragon snaking around her arm.

As soon as she did that there was a flash. Three flashes, to be exact. Simultaneous bursts of electrical energy.

Three Space Pirates materialized into view, pointing their weapons at Alana and Fiera.

They were fearsome looking creatures, even for Pirates, wearing ancient scarred armor and covered in tribal tattoos. The lead Pirate had a cybernetic right eye and wielded what appeared to be a submachine gun. To their left was another wielding a pair of SMGs, and wearing a fedora for some strange reason. To their right was the third, his left arm and leg both cybernetic, and armed only with blades: two plasma scythes on his wrists and a pair of samurai swords on his back.

And now Finn was pointing a gun at them. She had taken off her sunglasses now, revealing eyes that were naturally blue-gray but which everyone simply assumed were just gray or even silver.

"Welcome aboard the Salty Dog!" the Pirate in the fedora growled. "We don't have a plank, so any trouble from either of you and it's out the airlock you go!"
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"As long as you can turn a wrench. C'mon, we're on a tight schedule. We have to get moving."

Before Fiera could even open her mouth, suddenly the woman had grabbed the two of them and dragged them through the docking bay, piling through anyone in their way and throwing them into the airlock of the Demeter.

"But what about my equip-" she trailed off. Whether it was onboard the ship or not, it was safe; she didn't cut corners when it came to storage solutions; GFed surplus cargo containers would have no trouble keeping the mold away from her armor and electronic equipment. So she could probably go and load it on board once the mess outside had cleared up.

At least, that was her intention had the circumstances not been turned on their head all of a sudden.

The last thing she'd been expecting when they walked into the mess hall was three Pirates appearing out of thin air. Instinct took over and she lowered into a hunched, almost-feral defensive stance, black lips pulling back slightly to reveal the razor-sharp teeth lining her jaw.

Pirates? Shit. This is why you put your gear on BEFORE walking onto a ship you've never seen before in your life.

Not relaxing from her current stance, she blinked a few times as she put two and two together, and had to resist the urge to wheel around and spit in Finn's face with disgust. "A human working with Pirates? And I thought our race couldn't sink any lower." Wait, 'our' race? Perhaps her origins were not as alien as they appeared...
Edited by Bloody Pom, Jun 17 2010, 01:14 AM.
"A battle for supremacy against many foes is a battle of the best kind. There are few considerations, only those concerning where to place your next shot. It is war in its purest form." - Commander Karziel, Ultramarines 5th Company

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(OOC: I've been sitting on this post for a while because I feel like something's missing. Even after giving it time though, I only added a single sentance. Feel free to point it out if you think you've found it.)

Nick watched as Fiera's timepiece all but disintegrated.

Time is not the enemy, Nick remembered one of the Antech saying months ago. However, people have made it into one. Its passage is like a threat, and they feel that they have to get as much done as possible before it can do too much damage. They watch it like a predator does its prey, with careful eyes, as each second passes by.

They pass time, simply, by watching time pass.

Without timekeepers, we revel in each moment, and don't feel ourselves dying with each tick of the gears.

In essence, we are free.


Free. That last word echoed in Nick's mind as he saw the shambling creature coming after him. He gave a cry and looked around for the others he had come with, in the hopes that they would come to help him.

"I-I-I'm s-so-so-"

They're pack creatures, but if one of them is ever confronted with a threat more dangerous than the pack can handle, they shall scatter. Preserving the whole while sacrificing the weakest.

Nick was regressing, he knew. Months of dedication, training, rebuilding, all of it was coming apart in seconds under the stare of this thing that assaulted him now.

"It was meant to be harmless," he squeaked, the blood draining from his face as he saw the devastation around him. As the mold and pollen grew, even the most tolerant of people would begin to react. Far in the distance he saw a woman collapse. "The security was supposed to catch it before now," he swatted at an insect.

~

Ben had lived a long time in the backwater areas of Galactic Federation territory by being paranoid and inciting paranoia. When you lived with it enough it became a part of every action, every thought.

Then again, it didn't take a paranoid man to understand Henry's offer.

As Ben shook, the last of his tears finally falling, he knew the enormity of what was being offered. When he looked up at Henry again, he didn't see a simple man, a kindly human being who was lending a hand from the goodness of his heart. He knew he dealt with a devil, one who's grey eyes were the pallor of a dead man's skin, his silver hair like knives, clothes stained with blood no one would see.

And he was offering to buy a soul.

Ben wasn't a particularly religious man, despite his mother's calm assurances that God was there for him, but sometimes he could see the divine, or in this case demonic, in certain situations. What choice did he have though? For his soul, the offer was good. He knew Henry would be true to his offer, down to the letter. He would try to find out what was wrong with Trisha's somehow botched death, he would protect Lorrilal, and he would ensure neither of them went hungry again.

At this point, what did he have to lose?

"Okay, I'll do whatever you want," Ben said, feeling the weight of those simple words.

~

At that very same moment, Lorrilal bowed her head low.

"When you are, in turn, the monster under the bed, you have nothing to fear."

She shrugged, "Anyway, we don't have a problem with mold, I take care of that. The Fae were predator organics, if another plant threatened their territory they made sure to remove it promptly. My altered genetics give me a superior advantage even over my mother's late race." She twiddled her fingers, as though emphasizing something only she knew.
Someone made the mistake of letting me publish a book, check Dusted Here!
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~DJChilllyPhil~
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Too bad@$$ to have a FACE?! Maybe...
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
*Kalos turned his head as he heard some screeches and yells, only to come across a person who seemed to be...melting?*

"What in all that's..."

*The bird's eyes widened as his jaw slacked slightly at the sight of the figure as it tried its best to move around. It was at this point that Kalos met with a conclusion he should have figured out a long while ago:

Something definitely was not right here.

Kalos quickly spun his head, looking around to see what was going on. Something was in the air, and it was starting to aggravate some of his senses.*


"Gragh... What is that?..."

*He brought one of his arms up to cover part of his mouth as he coughed loudly a few times. The bird then began to quickly make his way back towards his ship*

"Has to be something....I can do..."

*Kalos quickly entered his ship and closed the door. The air inside of his ship was obviously free of whatever was released into the station, which was a relief to the old bird as he took a few deep breaths before moving to a nearby panel*

"Got...to find the source..."

*As he typed into the console, he brought the ship's sensors into play, scanning the space station to see what he was dealing with exactly. He then took a few steps back and leaned against the wall.*

"...Wait...I... Oh no..."

*In addition, it seems he had dropped his supply box in the excitement...*
"Listen well! I'll stand on top of all living things! I am now a new creature that cuts open the future!"
"Weakling, Weakling!"
"It's useless useless USELESS!"
"WRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!"
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+CEMP+
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Clockwork Master

Alana eyed the expiration date of the papers suspiciously; she didn't like it, especially with how late the ship was. Something was certainly up, all considering that the expedition she heard about had a good track record. However, she barely had time to ponder and consider any of this when there was a sudden amount of commotion going on within the station, and all she knew was there was a load of crap going on that instincts told her it was best not to be here.

Hence, she ran along with the captain, only barely noticing how there seemed to be plant growth occurring all over the place. It was hard for her to tell that this spontaneous growth could affect the life support systems, and it was best to be on a ship than gasping for air.

She breathed a sigh of relief when they walked through an airlock, feeling safety from the fact that they were in an isolated atmosphere; or at least possibly. She looked around curiously, noting he difference in texture, as she hadn't been on any other ships except for the one that brought her to the station.

However, as they walked through the place, she began to find the silence very disconcerting. She remembered reading about the Demeter, and that it was supposed to have a good active crew; even if it wasn't lunch time, she expected there to be at least one or two personal here, along with the cook.

Before the thoughts "This isn't right" could even materialize in her brain, her eyes registered a bright flash that made her squint. The glare cleared almost instantly, and Alana's face went chalk white with fear at seeing three Space Pirates pointing weapons at them.

Alana had only read about these species and their history with the Federation, but of course, she remained on a nice planet that was never afflicted by them. Hence she had no experience in dealing with them, or anything occurring in space at that matter.

Even so, she swallowed this terror, knowing full well panicking would get her no wear. That, and even with her lack of knowledge in this situation, there was no way in hell she was about to devolve into a pathetic, sniveling baby girl.

In about the same amount of time it took for Fiera to get out of her instincts and start talking, did it take for Alana's face to regain it's color, composure and attention. Her changed demeanor and body posture revealed that while she was unused to these situations, she was the sort of intelligent woman that didn't take to being pushed around.

Her attention had also grown sharp again, and heard the “how low our race had sunk so low” bit from Fiera, which maid her raise a bemused eye brow. However, she paid it little thought as she concentrated on the real situation. She spoke with an anxious voice that showed she well aware of her position. “Human making deals with pirates is not a rare thing...Fiera. History has even known there to be pirate enthusiasts when they first became a very large threat. In any case, I'm assuming you guys are the reasons for the real Demeter being late; that, or the Demeter was just a ploy to get people to work as you're crew. And,” she added to the Pirate with fedora, “not to mean any offense, but I've never read a Space pirate have a fashion sense."
"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death."
— Monty Oum
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