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The Crossroads
Topic Started: May 7 2010, 11:19 PM (7,027 Views)
~beflexor~
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I just _____ in the _____.

(OOC: OMGWTFBBQ-sized long post. Grab a drink, and then a mason jar for afterwards, because this is going to take a while. I guess I got carried away :3 )

At first, Squirt ignored the small weight gripping to her shirt, until she felt her flesh part like butter. Her growl became cut off with a sound of "Gnck!" and her head snapped upwards. Her hands were immediately off of Aryon and slicing through her skin, trying to get at the creature but only managing to help its cause further.

Then, with an ominous ping of metal, the Beflexor popped free.

Squirt gave the lizard a single look of pure horror before it disappeared. When Aryon grabbed her, she turned her eyes to him. They were a deep blue, like the purest of oceans, and filled with a childlike fear.

When he spoke to her, she opened her mouth to reply. "Gkkkkkkkth," she choked, water drooling out the corners of her mouth. Bubbles of it floated in the air for just a moment before the gravity came back on with no warning, sending everything slamming back down.

Squirt, on her back with Aryon above her, tried to suck in air, making a wet "hhhhhhhlk!" sound. Her hands moved to her chest, which pooled and poured over with water, like a small spring. Her eyes, too, had begun to leak at the edges, though nothing else in her demeanor suggested crying.

The pressure points under Aryon's unrelenting fingers became softer, and wet, as though he were pressing on a ripe peach and crushing the fruit beneath.

"Squirt?" Nick said, lifting himself up and holding his side in a hurt manner. "Are you okay?" He was unsure whether to fight off Aryon or not. Squirt had, after all, tried to kill them. Or worse.

He found himself frozen, half with indecision, half with a morbid curiosity. So far, the GI's body showed none of the usual signs of strangulation. Her eyes weren't bulging, nor was her face turning red. Perhaps eeriest of all was that she showed no signs of oxygen depletion, despite her sounds of choking, which he attributed to the water.

She looked so terrified though.

Nick was about to ask Aryon to let her go, when her neck gave way completely with an almost comical squish sound, then a snap as something more solid in the back of her neck, like bones, gave under the pressure.

She stopped making noise and became still.

~

A little girl in a white dress, patterned with green ivy, lay curled up in a black room.

Now, Squirt cried.

It was quiet, but every little sob or sniffle that did manage to escape bounced around the room, amplifying the sound tenfold. She was scared, she was hurt, she had no idea where she was.

Every day Squirt had regretted ever discovering Soulsparks, back when she was nothing more than the little girl she looked like right now. She regretted it even more when she had actually pulled the first one. It had been out of desperation though, only for it to turn out be pointless. Since then, she had hungered for those little bits of light, what they were, what potential they held. They explained so much.

"Why we gather," she said into the hollowness. "Why we appear."

"Why you make mistakes, just like us," another voice replied.

Squirt didn't dare move as she felt arms around her, for fear that, if she really saw, Trisha would be gone, like it was only in the GI's imagination.

"What are you doing here?" Squirt asked.

"You might think you're in the computer world, but you're not. Not quite anyway. This is a...well...the best way to describe it is a void."

"Like between reality, where you used to hide."

"No," Trisha replied. "Hardly anything like it. Being between reality was like being behind the curtain of a play, you saw everything that went on, how it came together. This is more like nothing at all. I can't really describe it other than void really."

"Then am I like you now?" Although Squirt was worried, she felt a flicker of hope that she could stay with Trisha.

"No, this is just a bit of a setback. Sometimes people drift in and out here. You'll have to wake up at some point though. If you wait until after the gun goes off, you can have a moment of silence to reorient yourself."

"Gun?" Squirt sat up and looked at Trisha.

Or would have. Instead, just as she had suspected, the temporal girl was gone. Squirt also found herself in her older form again, her hair pooling around her.

~

While the real Trisha talked to Squirt, the copy in the kitchen was shaking her head.

"I can only hope you give Ben a chance," she said to Jimmy. "Sometimes, being the way I am now, it's easy to see how child-like those around me are. Even you, Jimmy, still don't know everything out there that's in store for you."

Trisha cocked her head to one side. "Things are about to get very bad, very fast. Be strong Jimmy, use your head. Don't underestimate the girl with no clothes on either, she can and will kill you without warning and without a reason you can comprehend."

She stretched and yawned, "It's getting late. I'll be sure to round up the other Trishas and get us back to her room. No need to let you worry about every little detail."

Trisha left, her face growing more empty with each passing step.

Seconds later, a gunshot rang out.

~

"Thank you," Trisha breathed, "thank you so much David." She accepted his kiss, wrapping her arms around him.

Ben slammed the open with enough force to bounce back halfway. Stomping inside, he grabbed Trisha, half throwing her to the side before reaching up and firing.

"David!" Trisha screamed as Ronnie was hit in the chest.

"Ben!" Lorrilal said, skidding to a stop and kneeling by Ronnie's side. "You said you weren't going to kill him!"

The gun fell from Ben's grasp as he realized what happened. "H-he's not dead yet Lori! Shit!" he half collapsed as well, "Oh Jesus Ronnie, I'm sorry! I was caught up in the moment, I saw you two and-"

"This isn't the time for semantics," while Lorrilal's voice still carried a twinge of excitement, it had mellowed considerably. "Ben, is there a medic on board?"

"I have no idea. If Nick were here-"

The girl interrupted him again with a scowl, "Well he's not here. You get help, I'll try to keep him stable." Ben ran off, screaming up and down the halls of the ship for help.

Lorrilal pulled up the sleeve of her nightshirt, like she was about to stick her hand in something disgusting. Instead a thick, yellow-green moss began to grow on it. She observed it casually for a moment, then, seeing it grow to her specifications, she peeled it off.

"It's mostly sterile," she said, rolling it up and packing it into the wound in a curt manner. "Some of the compounds should aid in the clotting of blood, while others will do their best to break down the metal of the bullet without harming any biological materials. It's more efficient than cutting it out of you. You may want to take some iron supplements for several weeks after this however."

The whole while, Trisha cried softly in a dark corner of the room.

~

Ben screamed loud enough to wake the entire crew. "We've got a wounded man!" his head then turned toward the kitchen, seeing a Trisha emerge from it. Seeing her grey eyes on him, that so familiar gaze in such an empty shell, made him freeze for a moment.

There was a surreal moment as all of the Trishas then began to stand up as one and all stepped single file in the direction of Trisha's room.

Then, as the one from the kitchen passed by, she ran a scarred hand across Ben's cheek, bringing him back to his senses. He burst through the kitchen door and, seeing Jimmy, his words all seemed to tumble out at once.

"Jimmy I think I might have just killed Ronnie I could really use your help because I don't know if there's a medic on board and the right now the only thing keeping him from bleeding out is a freaking little girl! You can run and ask questions at the same time!"

He took off.

~

The moment the kitchen was empty, Trisha walked out of the kitchen again. Unlike before, however, she turned around and came back. While the movement seemed silly, it helped to prevent a backlash that usually caused her to be launched straight back into the void.

Sometimes, there were disadvantages to having yourself somewhere in the world already.

Trisha picked up the Beflexor, resting it against the palm of her scarred hand, where it once belonged. With her other hand she extended a finger and ran it down the little unconscious lizard's back before picking it up carefully.

She gave the Beflexor a quick toss where it bounced, rolled, and finally settled in the middle of the kitchen.

Trisha then carried the lizard close to her. In here, it risked getting sent down the train, or crushed beneath someone's boot. She knew just the place.

No one paid Trisha any mind as she made her way to the crew's bedrooms. She was just another Trisha, and besides, there were far more important things to worry about right now, no one would notice if she went elsewhere.

Rather than step into her own room, she went to Lorrilal's.

The temperature was warmer, and more humid than the rest of the Grace. While the walls were bare of any decoration, a bed sat at the far end of the room, and was decorated with sheer fabric in purple and pink. All of the bed sheets and pillows, however, had been pulled off to one side and formed into a comfortable, nest-like resting area.

Judging from the faint layer of dust that coated the sides of the blankets, it hadn't ever been changed.

"To think she's lived like this for so long," Trisha said, kneeling down and setting the lizard in a wrinkle where it could rest comfortably. "You should be safe here."

Then, she was gone.

Someone made the mistake of letting me publish a book, check Dusted Here!
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~Metamyth~
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BURMA
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"Does it matter if she's ok?" Aryon said harshly, facing Nick as he spoke. His grip was strong on Squirt, one hand holding her by the shoulder in the now-restored gravity of the room."She tried to kill both of us. She's not to be trusted!"

A shallow gurgling caught his attention. When he turned his head toward the source, he was shocked to see Squirt... well, he wasn't sure what was going on. Her flesh had gotten leagues softer, to the point where it was more like squeezing a piece of foam rather than something living, breathing.

It wasn't until the final moments that he saw the unbridled terror in her eyes.

Once the snap of her neck came, the room stood still. Aryon was silent as he lay her down, slowly taking a few steps back from the now-silent woman. "They always try to kill me..." he whispered to the air around him. "...and then they always have to die. I wish I could just stop this cycle..."

Like a falling brick wall, the realization of what had transpired finally hit him. He turned quickly toward Nick and held his hands up in a disarmed fashion. "L-look. I didn't mean to kill her... It's like you saw before, I get defensive, and then..."

Aryon sighed deeply, shaking his head. "...it always ends up like this." Then, taking a closer look at Squirt, added, "Well, maybe not always."
"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."


Dresden Codak, Dark Science
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~DJChilllyPhil~
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Too bad@$$ to have a FACE?! Maybe...
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"...Blacksun, huh?..."

*After reviewing the ship's response once more, Kalos mulled over the situation he now found himself in.

For all of 5 seconds.*


"General Blacksun, while your offer sounds rather helpful, I think I will decline. I have enough supplies and equipment to deal with any possible infection of the biological agent, even though there isn't any on my ship to begin with. Now if you will just allow me to pass, I will be out of your way and you can concentrate on other things..."

*The Chozo then cut off the connection, not wanting to hear from the shady character once again. Mercenary groups always seemed to be a bit iffy to him, regardless of whether or not they were on his side.

Another few keystrokes and adjustments to the navigation systems had the Carrier moving away from Blacksun's ship and towards the other side of the decaying station where he was supposed to meet up with his old aquiaintance, Nick...*


"...Hrrm..."

*Another few clicks of the control panel activated the Carrier's shields. Just in case...*
"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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~Emperor~
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((OOC:Blargh. Juuust an update on the Lieutenant...))

“Of course not.” Na'ruten almost spat the words out at Sy'thikrus' first response, then paused for a moment.
“I suppose zeal can be pardoned.” His tone, now, was carefully neutral.
“However - “
A sudden smattering of gunfire from the other side of the commlink interrupted him before he could finish.

Then, the link itself cut off.

Fantastic.

The pirate took one deep breath, flicking a switch on his weapon. This was not how the attack was supposed to go.

The corridor was quiet then, the only sound being the metallic, armored steps of the Lieutenant as he proceeded down the same path that Sy'thikrus had before. Small flecks of dust drifted down through the emergency lighting, made thicker by the lack of life support. It was strangely calm, though full of anxiety at the same time. He had no idea what would jump out at him next, what had taken out the other two pirates in less than five minutes.

The calm wouldn't last. A low, curious-sounding skittering soon made itself clear. At first the sound was muffled, and Na'ruten paid no heed to it, thinking that it was probably nothing more than mere parasites.

Before long, however, the scratching grew to a roar, and his cautiousness called for an investigation. A quick click brought his helmet's visor to a higher setting – and what he saw made him swear.

It was indeed from 'mere' parasites, but in quantities rarely seen, and in those numbers they could be dangerous. Indeed, they were the other half of the swarm that had attacked Sy'thikrus, though Na'ruten had no way of knowing that.

In the few seconds he had before they reached him, a quick leap to the wall brought him off the floor; he was able to cling to a metal bar that jutted out from the wall with his right claw, and use his legs for support. His other claw was free. And weaponized.

It took a fraction of a second for him to set the cannon in it to a suitable spray mode, and then he unleashed a volley of plasma rounds into the swarm, which was conveniently staying on the floor. It didn't take long for them to catch on, however, and soon they were crawling on the wall near him - these he was forced to swipe away when they came to close.

His comm-link suddenly crackled in his ear in the midst of this - and the message it had to relay didn't lighten his mood.

“I can see that,” he growled at Sy'thikrus, the warning about the parasites being quite useless now. They were approaching his supporting claw, though he was quick to swat them away.

What Sy'thikrus then said made Na'ruten ground his mandibles in frustration, momentarily pausing his firing to consider his next words.

Their planned way to the bridge was impossible.

Before the parasites could build up enough numbers on the wall, however, he resumed firing, talking between shots.

“There is - ” pop went the nearest parasite. “- another route to the bridge, but it goes through higher radiation and skirts the infirmary.” He fired twice more at the thinning swarm, which by now had petered out to a few groups of five, then jumped down -

- and almost slipped on the gore covered floor, which was strewn with parasite bodies and barely resembled its original color or texture.

"There will be additional drones joining us," he spoke quickly, righting himself against the wall. Goddamn bugs.

With now careful steps, he walked forward into the next corridor, squashing any remaining parasites that dared to show themselves.

~~~~

Meanwhile, the last shuttle launched from the Tikarez struck the Salty Dog with hardly any incident. It quickly burrowed itself into the rebel ship, sending a tangible rumble through that side of the ship. After the engagement of various stabilizing locks, the outer door gaped open, revealing the metallic hulls of various drones, glinting in the darkness. Soon they moved forward into the breached hall, only a few corridors away from the Lieutenant.
Edited by Emperor, Sep 12 2010, 09:06 PM.
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~CrypticOcean~
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Sy'thikrus received Na'ruten's message, his mind focused on his words.

Drones... he thought to himself, it has already come to that...

"Very well...sir. I suppose the only alternate option we have to that would be crawling through the vents, and I dislike the prospect of that idea after the amount of vermin that I have seen crawling in this ship. ...I will continue back to the entry point." he said in a level, unperturbed tone. He could not raise his voice in similar anger to the Lieutenant. It was too easy to label as defiance.

For a moment, Sy'thikrus' thoughts echoed the Lieutenant's own, in spite of the fact that he would have no way of knowing what Na'ruten was thinking. This attack was completely botched. It could not even be blamed on the incompetence of the squadrons. There was no way they could have been prepared for what had attacked them.

For that matter...what the hell is going on here?

What indeed. Rebels responded to the transmission. They would not have called this an "Attack Force" if they had not. It would be called an "Investigation Team", which is certainly what it had turned into. They expected rebel resistance on a dying vessel, the remnants of an Ing attack. Yet, this was even beyond a dying vessel. This was a hollow shell, a floating carcass filled to the brim with parasites and unspeakable beasts lurking beneath its floorboards. Had the rebels been enduring this hell the whole time? Or did they somehow command it?

If they were capable of commanding that kind of power...

He growled in frustration at where his mind travelled next. The only blood he had spilled thus far had been the blood of insects. He was still under the boot of a commanding officer, he could not hope to destroy the Salty Dog and its crew without retribution. He could die here, die like a worthless churl. No glory, no final stand against High Command, nothing. Just the jaws of an unknown horror lurking in the darkness, rending him to pieces, consuming him utterly. He slammed his fist onto a wall with enough force to breach the metal, revealing the useless electrical wires that dwelled behind. Snarling with bestial fury, he rent them from the wall and tossed them aside, mandibles clicking as he attempted to compose himself. However, the darkness took its hold of him, and a creeping despair entered his mind, burrowing past the warrior's dedication, the prisoner's apathy, the criminal's hardened outlook. It set a newfound fear ablaze, yet, with all of the fury that it burned with, he felt a sudden chill settle in his heart.

If I die, Rul'akar will pay the price for my incompetence...

His clawed fingers turned inward, finding the places in his gauntlets where they could slip between the powerful armour, and burrowed with all of the strength he could muster. He felt them pierce his skin, and felt the oddly frigid warmth pour from his wounds. Droplets of his emerald blood hit the floor, and he quickly moved to smooth out his oddly flared gauntlets. The last thing he needed was his emotional outburst making him die from radiation poisoning. The minor self-repair function of the armour corrected his mistakes as he took in a deep breath.

He could not allow Rul'akar to die. The creature had saved him from an unfair execution. He had always been there for Sy'thikrus, always ready to share in his glory, and share his defeat. It was a bond that no Space Pirate that had not been trained as a Hussar could understand, even the more "emotional" species would struggle to comprehend the power of the bond they shared. Loyal beyond death. The death of one would incite the other to an all-consuming fury, that would not reduce itself to smoldering embers until death was visited upon him as well. It was as if a part of the surviving creature had died as much as his partner did, and that death left nothing but a hunger for revenge behind.

He moved carefully, switching his active camoflague back on as he slowly moved through the corridors, making his way back to Na'ruten. He would not die here. He could not. The stakes were too high. His honour was upon it, the life of his greatest ally was upon it, his very -vengeance- was upon it. A real terror existed here, but he still had a mission to accomplish. If that turned out to be impossible, he made one powerful declaration in his mind.

He would leave this ship alive.
Edited by CrypticOcean, Sep 12 2010, 10:06 PM.
That is not dead which can eternal lie, and with strange aeons even death may die.~"Much discussed" couplet from a certain tome.

"Hoohehehahahaha...AHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
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~Bloody Pom~
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"T'kran, get to the infirmary! Don't let anything through!" T'kran almost flinched at the sudden chirp of Grifter's voice into his ears, a far cry from the dull silence he'd been enjoying. "Damn... yes sir," was his gruff response, a scowl forming on the Pirate's face behind the confines of his helmet. "The damage to the ship means they'll have to move past there anyway. Good call." His armor shimmered a dim orange colour as the hazard shield protected him from the excess radiation being purged from the device on his shoulder; it had once been an old Pirate PED, but now it was capable of acting as reservoir for all kinds of energy. If there was one thing T'kran was good at besides killing, it was tinkering with his equipment.

The Pirate made his way swiftly to the infirmary, stopping suddenly as a light illuminated the hallway ahead, a low droning noise ringing in his ears; it seemed the unwanted guests had brought in attack drones. Needless to say, he wasted no time in finding an alternate path.

Once there, his free hand pressed against the local intercom, T'kran's voice coming through on Alana's side. "This is T'kran. I've got the infirmary covered, just worry about keeping Cottonmouth alive. Remember, if he dies it's on your head." Shutting it off, the rogue swore under his breath as the droning noise came back into earshot.

Those damned tin cans would cause a racket like nothing else... not what he needed when there was a strike team bearing down on him from the other side of the ship.

----------------

"I explained earlier, but I think your pet 'human' had her mind set on wondering how to serve cat." Fiera sneered slightly, though really it was an act to hide her fear of Aiko. "For starters, I haven't come across a computer network yet that I couldn't crack. And since Pirate technology, from what I've seen, is all based on stolen Fed equipment, I shouldn't have any problems with a little breaking and entering... and then some."

Walking over to the console in question, she tapped a couple of buttons on the rather inconspicuous device on her wrist. A small connector popped out of the unit, the girl extracting it along with an attached patch cable, and plugging into a jack on the comm station. "Now then... where was the hailing frequency that our friends used... once I have that, they're hosed."

If Grifter would have noticed anything, it was the change in her body language. Whereas before she'd been tense, almost scared, now a steely glimmer had formed in her eyes, the girl utterly focused on her work as fingertips danced across the keys. Lines of code scrolled rapidly across the screen, before eventually, after a minute or so, coming to a halt with a single prompt in the center of the screen.

Turning to look at the Pirate, she smirked wickedly. "Now then, all that's left to do is open the channel and upload the burst transmission I've left waiting to go. Then the fun can begin." The smirk turned into grin. "On your word."
Edited by Bloody Pom, Sep 13 2010, 02:25 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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+Aiko+
Roffel House!

Ten eyes peered into the darkness, watching and waiting. Claws wrapped around the edge of a shattered floor, four floors above where Sy'thikrus stood, examining the gutted chasm for a way across. Lips sneered back, exposing two rows of black-tipped teeth, as Sy'thikrus gave up on the crossing. Two nostrils flared, sipping deeply of the stench of rotting parasites and something else. Smaller eyes closed, rolling back into a long snout, vanishing beneath flaps of thick hide. Only two eyes remained open, pupils dilated fully, irises invisible as the creature took account of its pitch black surroundings.

It stood up and stepped forward until the toes of one hind foot draped across the thin edge of destroyed flooring. It sized up the gap, head weaving back and forth on a long neck, then leaped forward.

It didn't land on the same level, but fell to where Sy'thikrus was moments before. It landed as silently as a cat, splashing slimy insect guts all over itself and the wall. The black and green sludge vanished into its skin, and every step left a four-toed footprint on pristine, clean floor, perfectly outlined by grimy ooze.

It honestly was very annoyed. Its main plan had failed thus far, but the tide was turning. The morale of the boarding party was destroyed, it could smell it, and with the pirate's numbers thinned, reaching its goal was actually possible. All it had to do was keep playing the psychological game, and it would eventually win.

And it had already won... with one.

It walked forward into the darkness... and disappeared.

-----------------------------

Something itched at the back of Sy'thikrus' mind. There was a heaviness behind his eyes that wearied him and battled for his attention. Shadows flickered in every corner, ghosts of movement he couldn't tell were real or imagined. And once, he swore he saw a set of narrowed eyes mocking him, but when he turned to defend himself, there was nothing there.

As he walked on, trying to get to Na'ruten, he was beginning to hear things. Distant echos hovered on the edge of perception, like a half-forgotten tune stuck in one's mind. He couldn't quite distinguish the sound, but a growing sense of dread in his gut that recognized it for what it was.

Something was laughing at him.
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~CrypticOcean~
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Laughter, he thought. The very thought was so full of venom that it caused him to spit it out through his clacking mandibles.

"Laughter." he growled, hate and rage boiling over his cautiousness. This creature, this thing was playing with him.

He heard something skitter past him, and he fired a blast from his weapon, dispensing with his camoflague entirely, somehow knowing that this creature could sense him no matter how quietly he moved, no matter how well-hidden he was.

Nothing was there.

He activated his energy scythe, preparing himself for the creature's attack. He knew it was coming. It had to be. It was shadowing his steps, waiting, just waiting for him to let his guard down. He did not have to see it, he did not have to hear it, for he swore that he could smell it. Smell its chemical scent as it slithered through the shadows, its fetid breath lingering in the air. Those scents had to be the creature. This ship only smelt like dust and burnt parasite. These scents were new, they were fresh, a sickly amalgam of cleanliness and filth combined into one powerful sensation.

The energy scythe created a crimson radiance around him, the orange lights of his suit mixing in to create a rusty glow that permeated through the dusty air. Sy'thikrus' senses were focused, keen, but narrowly directed onto on goal. To find the creature before it launched its attack.

He was acutely aware of every breath he took, he could feel the pulsing of his heart deep inside of him. Everything was reaching fever-pitch, the frustration and rage mixed with paranoia. Every shadow seemed to reach out to him as he moved further and further, drawing ever closer to his goal.

"Show yourself, you damn coward!" he finally bellowed, the scent was so overwhelming that he could taste it. He wanted to drink this beast's blood, to rip it to shreads. It was there, he knew it was there, still playing with him. He refused to die, he had come too far. His breath was drawn and ragged, his demeanor becoming more feral as he ambled along, searching for any sign of the beast accepting his challenge.

He was almost back to the entry point. He just had to finish this mission. Then High Command would have to deal with this. He relished the thought of them attempting to salvage this ship, of them being stalked by the animated shadows that resided here...

He had to live. There was no other option. Death was not an option.

"Death is not an option..." he repeated to himself, and it soon became a mantra. It echoed in his mind as he pressed onward.
Edited by CrypticOcean, Sep 14 2010, 11:01 PM.
That is not dead which can eternal lie, and with strange aeons even death may die.~"Much discussed" couplet from a certain tome.

"Hoohehehahahaha...AHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
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+Aiko+
Roffel House!

Death is not an option?

Sy'thikrus heard his own statement echoed back to him, posed this time as an amused question. The hallway was deathly silent save for his soft breathing, but that voice had been as clear to him as if somebody had whispered it against his ear.

Death is always an option. In your case, miserable thing, death may even be the preferable choice, the voice spoke, and this time Sy'thikrus knew he had not actually heard anything. Whatever this was, it was in his head.

I care little for pests who get in my way, the voice continued, but now the mental voice was matched with a low, annoyed hiss from down the hall. Sit.

And, to Sy'thikrus probable fury and confusion, his body sat for him. His head cocked to the side, watching down the dark hall, and he had no control over his actions.

Two light blue orbs glowed at his eye level down the corridor. They vanished for a second, then returned, and the blue suddenly blazed in two bright lines down the entire length of the creature. It stalked towards him on two short hind legs, details growing more distinct as it came within the red glow of his scythe. It paused fearlessly within his easy reach, glaring balefully at him with two huge, black eyes. Yet as he watched, the two large eyes closed, and eight other eyes sprouted from its snout. Four hovered on fleshy pedestals on the top of the creature's head, one in front of and one behind the two closed, giant eyes, lazily weaving back and forth as they constantly scanned the creature's surroundings.

Four other eyes, properly embedded in the snout behind the nostrils, narrowed as they assessed Sy'thikrus. The lips parted with a pernicious snort, and Sy'thikrus had control of his own eyes again.

The creature was not large... at its full height it would barely pass Sy'thikrus' stomach, but what it did not have in size it made up for in sheer mass. The creature was all muscle. Its head was long and skinny, but its neck was as thick as a small tree. Its neck was rooted in shoulders so muscular that Sy'thikrus could see each muscle clearly defined behind its tight, surprisingly soft looking, fleshy skin. Its upper and lower arms were chunky and strong, but its hands were five-fingered and surprisingly delicately structured. The claws on the end of those fingers, however, were anything but delicate. The four inch sickles were refined to a nearly invisible point, and there was no doubt that this creature was built for killing.

Despite the reptilian nature of the creature's front, the rear half looked like it belonged to a different animal. The hind legs were just as bulky, but there was only a short, thick tail to balance the heavy front end. Its hind feet were plantigrade, not digitigrade, making the creature look awkward and slow. The hind legs also seemed too short... like they belonged on a quadruped instead of a biped. All in all, it was unlike anything Sy'thikrus had probably seen.

It allowed him a moment to examine it, then took another step forward and grabbed Sy'thikrus by the throat, effortlessly lifting his limp body into the air, despite its small size. It strangely wasn't choking him, and used its opposite hand to delicately tear open Sy'thikrus armor and touch the wounds beneath.

It barked a laugh, and released him. Sy'thikrus landed on his feet despite being unable to move, and just stood there while it glared up at him with its largest eye.

You are... interesting, the creature tilted its head and lifted its nose in condescending curiosity. Death is not an option, eh? the creature asked again, then narrowed its eyes tauntingly at him. Then perhaps you should reflect upon your own agenda..., it stood to its full height and brought its nose so close to Sy'thikrus face that he couldn't focus on it, ....you rebel, the voice hissed, sultry sweet, into his mind.

Sy'thikrus scythe sputtered and died, casting the hallway once again into blackness. An instant later he regained full control of himself, but no matter how hard he looked, the creature had vanished, leaving him with a great deal to think about.
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Sy'thikrus quickly reactivated his scythe the moment he regained control of his body, swiping uselessly at the empty air in front of him. He quickly deactivated it as his body caught up with his mind, his mind awash in a thousand different images and memories. Hatred, fury, confusion, doubt, frustration, shame, they all assaulted his mind, clouding it in a veil. His vision turned red as his snarled and drooled like a mindless beast, rending into the floor until there was his head and upper body were submurged beneath the grimy steel, his legs clinging onto the edges of his self-created hole. He felt his mind slowly reach an equilibrium as he lifted himself from the tear, standing up once more and leaning against a nearby wall.

His armour was open. He had no time to consider what he had just experienced until he dealt with this. He went to work quickly, engaging the repair functions of his armour as he manually bent the flared alloy into place. It took quite a bit of his strength, and his arms quickly grew tired as he worked the last piece back in place. He relaxed as digital text in his visor informed him that the repairing functions had been engaged. Once he saw that he was not yet poisoned from the ship's atmonsphere, the still silence of the place reopened his mind to the questions it had been too agitated to consider.

"That..." he began to utter aloud. He had intended to finish the sentence, but found that he could not. The word "creature" resonated loudly in his mind, but he could not bring himself to utter it when he desired it to represent the beast that had just taunted him. He felt the fury begin mounting once more, but he attempted to swallow the bile this time. He had to remain still for the auto-repair to be as effective as possible.

He began to wonder if what he saw was even real. Had he just experienced a dellusion? The condition of his armour would attest otherwise, but he still lived. He was rendered completely powerless, unable to even defend himself, stood face to face with the surprisingly diminuative fiend, yet he still lived. It made him curious of his sanity. He never had any trouble seperating reality from dreams...or nightmares. Now, however, he could not help but wonder. Wonder if he had really seen anything at all, if his armour had not become damaged in some other way.

It was pointless, though. Regardless of whether or not the creature he had seen was a figment of a budding psychosis, or a real entity that had confronted him, its words still burned within him. They had been branded onto him, emblazoned into his core. Death being preferable? He did not buy that for a moment. He had endured far too much torture and betrayal at the hands of his people. He would be damned if he died before showing them what he was capable of.

It had called him a rebel. He could not deny that claim, yet...at the same time, it froze his core. Did the creature associate him with his quarry? The way the creature had spoken it, it was certainly intended as a taunt. After all, both he and the rebels worked to defy High Command. Contrary to their freedom, however, he was a slave. He did not care what the rest of his people did. He would watch the whole universe burn under their reign, or watch his whole species go extinct, and not shed a tear either way. He was not trying to make a statement, he was not trying to fulfill some greater purpose. He would be the first one to admit that all he sought was revenge. He embraced the hatred that festered inside of him. All he wanted was to get even. After that...

That was when his mind froze. This was the first time he considered it. It was likely that his final strike against High Command would take his life. He did not intend to survive afterwards. What if he -did-, in spite of the odds?

What purpose would I serve...is that...is that what it meant?

Death is always an option. Death would be his best option there. After it was all over, what was there? There was nothing. His whole life would be hollow. He would drift about with no real purpose, no real reason to exist.

As his mind began to fully wrap around the implications of this, his suit beeped, letting him know that the repairs were finished. His mind instantly snapped away from what he had been considering. High Command had to pay. He would worry about the details when that time came, and no sooner. No aberrant, warped creature, no rambling figment of his insanity, would stop him from accomplishing what he had set out to do. It could feel free to call him a rebel all it wanted. Rebels were filth and scum, they contributed to his suffering by merely existing. He was not like them. He did not pretend to be doing anything other than fulfilling his own goals.

In the end, that was all that mattered.

He began trudging down the last hallway, from here, he could see the entry point where all of this madness had begun. He heard the buzz and hum of the mechanical reinforcements not too far down the hall. He made one final resolution, one last promise to himself that was secondary only to his survival.

He still had a job to do. He intended to finish it.
That is not dead which can eternal lie, and with strange aeons even death may die.~"Much discussed" couplet from a certain tome.

"Hoohehehahahaha...AHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
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