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| Vergo Flux (SC RP); It's a working title | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 1 2011, 02:28 PM (8,287 Views) | |
| +CEMP+ | Aug 19 2012, 04:39 PM Post #31 |
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Clockwork Master
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(OOC: Apologies for the monster post. Couldn't help myself) It was funny just how 'normal' Jenosa's weird sixth sense - and more over, her life - had become for her after all these years. To recount, she had been a simple human female professional, doing her jobs with her plain old five human senses, quick thinking and skill; nothing else, nothing more. It had been a fine life until she had taken that one job that lead up to a deadly alien virus not only infecting her, but mutating her after surviving against it for so long. Now, amongst other subtle alien traits that no longer felt alien to her, she could sense the various energies all about her, as if they were all truly tangible. The tingling bio-electricity of the people and electrical fields of technology she walked amongst, the bursts going on inside a reactor and her own handgun, to name a few; each of them having their own distinct sensation whenever they passed near her. It was a whole new paradigm, one that she had a freaky, first-hand experience with to be sure, but everything had eventually become a familiar, everyday aspect of her life. Then she had stepped out out from her ship into the Claymore's. “Woah...”She whispered, her eyes going wide as a potent sensation rippled across her body. The energy she felt coming from the tall, armored alien that approached to escort her was...like nothing she had ever; not even remotely close to anything else she had come across. This was new, and intense. Even standing several feet away from one, she could sense the potent life-force coiling within his – her – its – body, and even armor, and more over, see it as a azure aura if she focused her eyes right. Which she had, her green irises flickering cerulean, and despite these aliens unworldly appearance, something about it had perturbed him; so much to the point that he had viciously commanded her to remove all her weapons. “Ok ok, geez” she replied back, startled by the sudden disgust, “Not like I just made you wait or anything.” What's his problem, she thought, as she hastily removed her handgun and both gauntlets. She soon got a better idea of his reaction – though not why - of when she met up with the rest of the hunters, her entire arms noticeably less bulky and blue. It was easy for her to see that they not only did they dislike humans (Or, as their alternate name, Terrans) as if they had a long fued, but they held a particular disgust for females. And that unnerved her, because Jenosa had been around a lot and had never seen anything remotely like these aliens. And then things went too far. At the exact same moment Travis yelled, so did Jenosa, her eyes once again flairing and her clenched hand even basked a light, azure aura. “LET HER GO GODDAMIT. She is completely unarmed you bastard!” Travis wasn't the only one who had made a promise to the young brunette, and Kathi had been a good friend and protege, and she wasn't about to put up with this kind of bullshit; especially when Kathi was defenseless to begin with. Regardless, however, Jenosa remained silent the rest of the way, letting Travis try to handle the situation diplomatically as possible, seeing as she there was nothing she could trully do. Even so, the aliens who had regarded her response did so with a deathly stare, more so than any of the other females; as if she was a freaky female. All Jenosa could think was psychopaths. --------------------- Ghelm was incredibly relieved to get safe passge into the Terran ship, even if it was being held hostage by the Protoss. Protoss. What the heck were they doing here? More over, where was 'here' exactly? Actually, ixnay on checking the computers star map, what kind of Terran ship was that outside the ship's window? The one he was headed to. Granted, it certainly wasn't alien compared to the Protoss – Protoss! – ships flying about, but it wasn't quite any design he had ever seen before. It looked to be around the size and battle power of the new Minataor Battle Cruisers – though visual perspectives were decieving – but looked nothing like them; and he certainly couldn't pin it as being made by other Terran organizations such as the Kel-Morian's or the Umojan Protectorate. 'Custom built' was the only strong theory he had in mind, and if that was the case, holy fleck that is some customization. Damn, he thought through all of that fast. Come to think of it, for being pumped up on anesthetic and a headache, he was thinking incredibly clear. Clearer than he ever had in his life, in fact. “Fleck, that must be some new kind of painkiller,” he whispered to himself. He turned his attention to the reason he had ended up here like this in the first place: the killer woman, who still lay unconscious on the pilot's chair after all this time. Having set the auto pilot perfectly for the Terran vessel, he took the time to study her, and the first idea about her that came to was Ghost. He recalled that they were telepaths drafted and trained at Ghost Academy, having seen interviews with Dominion officials on television to ward off society's fears that their childiren were being tortured for science. Ok, so, he concluded, she's...probably one of those telepathic agents his government uses – a really sexy one too – but – and this scared him ...why had she come running into the ship, killing the work man yet...awkwardly knock me unconscious instead? They were question only the sleeping amazon could answer, and he could see her stirring finally. And yet, despite knowing he should, curiosity overcame fear, and he found himself tentatively reaching out to remove her combat mask. It didn't take much time and effort to carefully do so, and when he did , he beheld the young, Caucasian face; and the black eyes that flickered open and stared right back at him. In one swift moment, Ghelm found himself slammed and pinned against the ship's bulkhead with surprising force for female human. Jeez, do they give you steroid or something, he though in a flash, but strangely the answer quickly popped into his head that it was the suit giving her that strength. Either way, she wasn't happy. “Who are you? What happened?” she demanded in a cold, merciless tone. Ghelm answered with a incredibly quick jumble of thoughts that ranged from “How should I know?” all the way to “Shouldn't you know?” The Ghost's eyes popped open in bemusement, as if hearing his thoughts were new to her, before hardening again, quickly reminding squeezing Ghelm's arms painfully tight and saying, “Tell me where we are? Tell me what happened?” Ghelm still didn't speak; in fact, her words might as well have been background noise, because he found himself staring strait into her face. That cold, hard, ruthless face of hers that underneath was brilliant, stubborn, emotional, and broken. So, so broken; broken like he was – like he had been - like her; broken all the way into teeny, tiny fragmented whispers, but still broken. This time, letting go of Ghelm, the Ghost suddenly jumped back in a mixture of bewilderment, surprise and fear, as if what had been going on in his had...spooked her; yeah, for some reason, Ghelm distinctly knew, while rubbing his arms, that was the reason, but the mystery was why. She looked as if even the terrifying alien scourge of the universe wouldn't make her waver, so why him. The Ghost regained her steely composure, and focused back on her objectives deciding to ignore Ghelm as he didn't exist. Before she could take manual control of the ship, however, Ghelm quickly stated, exaggerating with his hands, “Ummm, just so you know, this ship, and a bigger Terran ship that we're currently docking with, are surrounded by a Protoss fleet.” She whipped her head around, eyes narrow and steely instead of wide, exclaiming, “What?!” Ghelm swore he felt an alarm that wasn't his go off in his mind. “Yeah, and they'll be a bit murderous if we don't do what they say, which is what this ship is currently doing.” Now it was her turn that was staring at him in silence. “Umm, look,” he continued, “I don't know why you - um - murdered the other crewmen – and quite frankly that bothers me a lot – but, umm, right now my priority is survival. I'm...pretty – no, I know sure that's yours too.” It was then that, without even so much as a flicker of emotion as a response to Ghelm, the Ghost got up, picked up her combat mask, and began to walk towards cockpit door when she stopped abruptly for no reason. She turned about looking at her suit, and then peered at Ghelm with burning suspicion. “What have you done with my suit? ” “Me, nothing! Looks fine to me.” “I can't cloak,” she replied as if that was obvious, and it was then, despite her demeanor, that Ghelm knew she was panicking. Protoss were going to kill her, on site, and she was sure of that, and if she hid here, they would certainly sense her with their powerful psionics. She considered other options, but in the end, her death was inescapable. Ghelm felt all of that go through his like they were his own, and his response probably would have been, “Well, too bad, so sad.” Except that in the core of his being, he couldn't find it in himself to say that, or let her just...die. He snapped his fingers, “Get undressed.” “The hell!” “Yes – I mean, no, errr – well, yes but not quite like that. Look, take off the suit and put on the crewmen clothes we have here.” She looked at him weirdly, which was a first, “You're insane. Chances are they'll sense me” “And maybe just consider you background noise with all the other people that are showing up. Got any better ideas?” The woman made a frustrated expression as she realized this was the only doable course of action. “No,” she responded; survival was priority. “Right then, let's get dressing for a party. And, ummm, what's you're name?” She opened her mouth and then closed it, not knowing what was coming over her. She was supposed to be keeping to herself, she shouldn't be making these kinds of interactions, yet something in the back of her mind tugged at her; saying it was impolite not to introduce herself. And what was maddening was that she couldn't just say her serial number – Agent P45293Q. Instead, she spoke of someone who shouldn't even exist anymore: “Lenna Kensa” Edited by CEMP, Nov 16 2012, 09:00 AM.
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"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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| ~Alissa~ | Aug 25 2012, 06:39 PM Post #32 |
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***Xenoscan in progress*** The ship’s AI was hard at work trying to classify the new creatures that were standing on the hanger deck. They did not match anything in the extensive database which meant for the moment they were a mystery, however Alissa knew from experience that it would have an analysis before too long. She was starting to feel a bit more like herself ***nano systems report 25% of minimum safe levels, internal factories are online, damaged components are regenerating*** When the command to remove their helmets Alissa reached up after a moment of hesitation and released the latch that held the face mask in place, there was a hiss as the internal seal was broken and she pulled the helmet off. Those who know her would know she looked a bit ill, Alissa had always been rather fair skinned however with the drop off of her internal systems she was still not close to 100%. There was another change, her eyes normally very nearly white they were so grey had shifted to a rather dramatic violet, without the flood of tiny machines in her blood her eyes had returned to their natural color. She tensed when one of the aliens attacked a member of the group though did not move to do anything, even with the impulse to attack, right now survival was important, and while her systems repaired themselves she was not at her full potential, and if the current state of things were indication she knew she needed to be at her best and soon. ***Xenoscan complete*** She looked towards her ship a moment before returning her attention towards the aliens, considering how best to deal with the situation, unarmed, and at only a fraction of her strength. |
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| ~The Silver Fox~ | Aug 28 2012, 12:00 PM Post #33 |
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Just your friendly neighborhood Section 2 agent!
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(OOC: A little bit of catch-up to start with, since I was lazy and didn't write up my post fast enough) (Edit: stupid placeholder brackets sneaking into my finished work) As soon as Kathi had finished helping Chel into her bunk onboard Vis so the hunter could sleep off the morphine in her system, she headed back up to the cockpit, where she had the autopilot on a docking course with the Claymore's hangar bay. As she slid into her seat, the investigator noticed an incoming comm call from Jenosa. Good. After having to put Chel to bed, she could use a good conversation to take her mind off all the shit going on around her. Them. Whatever. She opened the channel, and a holographic screen of the red-haired hunter popped up. "Heya," Jenosa began, waving and smiling at her. Kathi could nonetheless sense an undercurrent of tension in her expression, though. Probably present in hers too as she returned the smile. "Thought we'd...pass the time with a more - private chat, however short this is." There was a short pause before she continued. "Have to so say, this is a crazy situation we're in; probably crazier than some of the stuff I've been through, and trust me, what I've been through is nothing to sneeze at." "Heh, I bet. Anyway, I guess..." Kathi began, trailing off as she mulled over exactly how she wanted to ask her question. She really did want to know what exactly had happened to Jenosa that led to the seemingly impossible, but now...now didn't seem like the right time to be asking about that. "So, what've you been up to since you came back to life?" ---------- The conversation had the brunette in a better mood as her ship touched down, but unfortunately it wasn't to last. Almost as soon as she had landed, her ship was surrounded by the aliens. There was something vaguely familiar about them, but she couldn't place it. They reminded her a bit of the Luminoth, but the resemblance was superficial at best. And besides, the armor's aesthetics didn't match anything she knew of. The machines besides the warriors were also completely unfamiliar. And the heads of the walkers had an uncannily lifelike movement that made the girl shiver slightly at it. Her thoughts were interrupted by another psychic message, ordering all of them to disembark, and leave their weapons onboard their ships. As soon as Kathi heard that, she could feel her stomach sink. She'd seen enough hostage situations that she could think of far too many ways this could end poorly. The way they towered over her as they escorted the hunters to the center of the landing bay only served to reinforce the fact that they were the ones in charge, not the humans. Once they'd all been gathered together, one of the warriors waiting for them stepped forward. "You are to remove your helmets, slowly," he commanded. They complied and the way he reacted when he saw that the majority of the group was female...it was hard to mistake the tone of his voice as he began to speak again as anything other than disgust, and the energy blade on his wrist didn't help matters any either. For a second, Kathi's mind latched onto "female" as the operative reason for the alien's disapproval, but that was quickly swept aside. The warrior had specified Terran females, and from the distinct difference in, for lack of a better word, vocal tones between this one and the one who had broadcast earlier (Selendis, if she remembered correctly), the issue seemed to be one of species first, gender second. And that also meant that whatever caused that reaction of disgust, it wasn't cultural. Historical or personal – primarily historical, given how he wasn't the only one giving them a hostile look – seemed more likely. Maybe Samus had blown up one of their planets? Kathi could certainly understand how that might cause a bit of resentment, especially if the planet in question had been a center of major religious, cultural, or political significance. What was concerning was how they knew of humans, but Kathi couldn't recognize their species at all. Most of the inner Federation worlds where she worked had primarily human populations, true, but even so, if an alien race with this sort of ability to project its military might had made contact with either the Galactic Federation or the Confederation, there would have at least been rumors of gold and crystal capital ships floating about on the edges of their space. Wherever the hell they were, it wasn’t anywhere near familiar territory, that much was obvious. She'd have to check the star charts again as soon as she got the chance in order to take a guess as to their location. Wait...no, that wasn't entirely accurate. She had seen one of their species before hadn't she? The one alien who had signed up for the mission of getting the artifact back from the pirates. Where had he gone off to anyway? She was so caught up in her own thoughts as he spoke that it caught her completely by surprise when he strode over to her and almost effortlessly hauled her off her feet by the collar of her combat suit. Kathi screwed her eyes shut as he began to telepathically shout at her, bracing against any continuation of the mental equivalent of yelling in her face. Had she not been wearing gloves, her palms would likely have been bleeding from her nails digging into them as her hands clenched from the stress of hearing someone else's voice coming from inside her mind. As soon as he finished his tirade, she slowly opened her eyes again, aware of Travis and Jenosa shouting back in distress somewhere in the background. Kathi was glad they were there, that even in this mess of things, someone had her back. As she stared into the alien's glowing, cerulean eyes, she directed a glare of pure defiance at him. "I don't answer to voices in my head," she growled back him once Travis had finished trying to negotiate. There were plenty of questions she wanted to ask, but there was no way in hell that was happening so long as the aliens continued to treat them in such a hostile manner. Edited by The Silver Fox, Aug 29 2012, 10:46 PM.
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Once, there was a maiden... ...whose tears of grief nearly drowned the world. So she tore out her heart, and made war against it. In victory, she sealed it in a locket, and trapped in a casting of bronze. "Such is the price of unguarded emotion," she said. | |
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| ~Twilight~ | Sep 5 2012, 09:09 AM Post #34 |
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Just... Kind of out there...
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OOC: Apologies if parts of the post might not be up to par, a little rusty. I made a quick sketch of Twilight a while back that is accurate of his current state, though it was made with most of his features hidden intentionally. I'll explain how he looks in detail later. Linky The prison ship didn't only carry "ordinary" criminals, deep in it's bowels it had solitary confinement cells made for the more dangerous or unpredictable variety though they weren't used regularly. This was however one of those times, as behind one such cell door sat a hunched figure covered by a dirty, weathered black cloak, or what may have once been a cloak at least. The creature was tall even as it sat in a cross-legged fashion and would probably tower over the average human if it stood up. The room was well-lit, so as to allow the prison guards to observe potential aggression by the inhabitant of the cell though it had so far been about as docile as a brain-dead sheep. Still given that they had no idea what they were dealing with they had decided, rather wisely, to not take any chances with the security of the 'creature'. 'The creature' as they referred him too was in fact Twilight, one of the last survivors of the Ing race that had devastated and almost destroyed Aether and the race inhabiting it, the Luminoth, however he had mutated, or changed a lot since the time he escaped the rogue planet and so he now only resembled an Ing by the color of his skin, the colour of his 'eyes' and the tendril-like hair that was covered by the cloak-like garment he wore. As he had changed physically so had he also changed within, growing more independent than he had been as a servant of the Ing Hive and developing a moral code of his own after observing and interacting with the many species of the galaxy. Most things had gone well for Twilight until certain people within the Galactic Federation figured out his true origin, captured him and through a misconception that Phazon worked like a tranquilizer for him after his last metamorphosis, caused him to go into an uncontrollable rage as his Ing instincts took over completely. It was only by sheer luck that he escaped once the phazon induced rage subsided, but the incident had left it's mark on him, both physically and mentally. Having been robbed his ship and having his private assets frozen and being branded a criminal, Twilight had no choice but to stowaway in order to get from place to place, and it had worked for a time, but eventually he was caught. Fearful of what might happen to him if the Federation got their hands on him again he almost resisted, but because of the incident he had lost most control of his powers, and so he would no doubt have killed them if he did, as such he let them take him away without a fight, but he refused to say a single word and as they were unable to identify him on cite, he was transfered to the Prison Ship so that they could hold him until they could get an ID. During his entire stay in the solitary cell Twilight had sat hunched silently in the same spot, he had made no sound at all and the only movement at all inside the cell was the occasional drip of black-grey matter from one of his exposed features that evaporated into mist before it hit the metal floor. Then all of a sudden he raised his head to look at a spot on the wall a few yards from the cell door, and barely a moment later the ship shook violently as the wave of energy unleashed by the odd phenomenon several million kilometers away took hold of the ship, Twilight himself flew straight into the door with a bang before he himself lost consciousness. As his mind darkened he couldn't help but feel like there was something familiar with the sensation he was having at that moment... Edit: ops, meant hunched not lurched xD fix'd! Edited by Twilight, Sep 5 2012, 07:09 PM.
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| ~Jedi~ | Sep 29 2012, 03:32 PM Post #35 |
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One with the Force and Blade
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In the endless void, it stirs. ========================================== To say that the tension was palpable would've been an understatement. Almost as soon as Travis moved to stand, shouting out, three semi-transparent fields appeared around himself and the rest of the hunters, each at least three meters wide. To the touch, they were firm and unyielding, though appeared as if to be only thick as paper. Their 'guests,' however, reacted quickly, almost impossibly so, three of the warriors having positioned themselves between the gaps of the forcefields, energy blades activating. The warrior who held onto Kathi's collar turned his head slowly to the speaking human, blue eyes glowing with what could only be described as contempt. "You know not your place, Terran" he 'said,' turning his attention back to Kathi. It was only when Jenosa followed him up that seemed to truly spark the being. Kathi's response, however, tipped him. "Then you shall answer to my blade." He shifted his weight, the alien hoisting her up a little higher as his free hand curled into a fist, bringing the blade back to swing. It all happened so fast; the sound of a second blade activated, a faint tussle, and Kathi would see herself dropped to the floor unceremoniously. The alien was suddenly face-down on the floor, his left knee bent in a lock while his sword-hand was pinned behind his back, though seemingly by nothing at all. A second, green energy sword pinned the blue blade, shimmering from nothingness in the air. The deck was mysteriously quiet as, after a moment, a figure appeared from thin air, shadowy smoke billowing from him. "And you know not your place, fool," the figure said, seemingly much more frail than the warrior -- he was dressed in only sparse pieces of armor and a long, flowing cloak, a strong, blue-colored frame almost nude beneath it. ========================================== In the wretched hive, she plots. ========================================== "Indeed, he forgets," a third voice called loudly. Attention was turned to the airlock that lead towards the inner hallway of the Claymore, and another alien creature walked alongside a few members of the Command staff, Voree among them. Walk, however, was the wrong choice of word; the being seemed to float a few feet off of the ground, ornamental armor and cape outshining anything the warriors had. Two more-armored guards flanked his sides, but did not seem to make any hostile actions towards the lot. "Please, forgive young Verilius...he has much to learn." The floored warrior slowly dragged himself back to his feet, turning without a backwards glance to rejoin his position with his comrades. "I am High Templar Novien, on behalf of the High Executor. And, I see you've already met Dark Prelate Keldorin." The shadowed, cloaked figure stood upright, nearly as tall as the warriors despite his lack of armor. He put one large, blue hand out towards Kathi, as if to help her up. "Now, if you'll pardon the intrusion, I believe some explanation is in order. I've already discerned that you're not who we originally believed you to be, appearances notwithstanding." The High Templar floated forward, the transparent barriers shutting off. "If what is in your Captain's mind is to be believed...and I don't see a reason why it shouldn't be, you have mistakenly strayed from your path and into ours." "Were it so easy to understand, Novien," Keldorin spoke softly, his face mostly hidden by a veil. "The transfer of realities is not something to be spoken lightly of." "Indeed. The artifact that you have found is of great power...and we would be most interested to study it." Meanwhile, Voree had tried to make eye contact with as many hunters as possible, counting heads and seeing who all was left. Her eyes gazed around the hangar, realizing just what kind of situation they were in, only...wait. There were a pair of ships in the now-crowded hangar bay that she hadn't recognized. No one had seemed to come out of them just yet, or make attempts to open them. One looked merely like a cargo freighter of sorts, but the other had a strange, almost alien design. It was aesthetically human-built, no doubt, but not any make or model she recognized. ========================================= From all corners of the cosmos THEY SWARM. ========================================= There was a sudden change in demeanor. The High Templar's soft eyes grew narrow, head jutting out towards the semi-transparent barrier that separated hold from space. "We must depart. Ready the fleet," the High Templar said, several of the aliens speaking with each other in hushed voices. Several nearest the large, butterfly-like pylons quickly...dissolved, digitizing into a beam of pure energy that seemed to feed into the device. "These humans have damned us!" one of the warriors called loudly, to a few cheering acknowledgements. Not that anything would be made of them. Before anything more could be said, a voice boomed throughout. "This is the High Executor. All ships, power to weapons. Boarding parties return, immediately! Shield formations, interlocking fire. I want nothing through! Let us show them the might of the Protoss this day!" "Humans, I would retreat, if at all possible, lest you wish to die here," the High Executor said aloud, making his way towards the transport. Several already began exiting the Hangar, and the High Templar was one of the last to board the remaining one. "You know them not, but the Zerg are terrible, terrible creatures, made for nothing but slaughter." An automated alarm system began broadcasting throughout the Claymore, bathing the hangar and hallways in red emergency lighting. Warning. Warning. Spacial anomalies detected. Warning: Special anomalies detected. With that, the Templar was gone, the last transport lifting out of the hangar and hurrying towards the nearest Protoss capital ship. "Voree to bridge," the Captain spoke, lifting a wrist-linked communicator to her face. "Someone tell me what the fuck is going on!" As she demanded, she moved towards the barrier shield, looking out into space. The Protoss fleet had re-arranged itself, with Capital ships clustered near the middle. A sudden light shot from the arranged fleet, several heavy weapons firing at once, and in that light, she could see many, many small black dots, almost as if gnats. "Ma'am, we're detecting several spacial anomalies nearby that are similar to warp-jump signatures. We're....we're picking up biological signals emanating from within. That...wait, that can't be right." "Ma'am...there's millions of these things!" The ship suddenly shook with impact, a dull crash that gave way to faint alarms. Hull breech in sector 4-A9. Hull breech in sector 4-A9. More thumps echoed across the ship, the computer doing its best to keep up with the reports. Voree stood shellshocked, staring out of the shield at the cloud of gnats, which was slowly growing larger. One in particular doing so much more quickly. "Mother of God." A pod of sorts crashed into the hangar through the barrier, black and oozing. It almost appeared to be alive, green pustules pulsing along its flanks. The pod skittered to stop before the pustules ruptured, several large, wolf-like animals falling out in a thick, purple ooze that was not unlike what covered the pirate's freighter. They paused, for but a moment, as if to get their bearings, looking curiously at the humans...before more sprouted from the pod. There were dozens. And, as if on one thought, they all charged, roaring out. |
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| ~The Boss~ | Oct 3 2012, 01:44 AM Post #36 |
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Native Son
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Grace thought back to the first time she was ever arrested. She was nineteen at the time, and had just started doing real work for Henry. It was right in the middle of the war with Jersey, and he had been employing her as his personal spy, breaking into Gio's house and his office and planting bugs, hacking computers, and generally gathering every last piece of intel she could get her hands on. She still hadn't done any hits for him yet. That wouldn't happen for another month, when she joined Nick Scanlan's hit squad after Kizun Shransgait killed their original sniper. But first the Feds descended upon New York and started rounding up a bunch of Henry's guys. She, Jimmy, and Ronnie Black were all arrested at once, and Nick got pinched at his bar about an hour later. It was a pure shakedown. The Feds had nothing and they knew it, but they didn't let that get in the way of screwing with them a little. But for Grace, that incident solidified her as a full-fledged member of the crew. She was brought back to the present by a sudden, jarring impact, like the ship had been hit. Then another impact, and then another, and a blinding flash of light as the ship shuddered violently. And then as quickly as it had started, it was over. Guards immediately got on their radios, checking in with the other sections and the pilots. A few inmates were getting nauseous, but so far everythung seemed to be fine. "Ten minutes before the boys start rioting," said the inmate next to her, a skinny brunette who looked barely old enough to drive. Grace couldn't supress a grin. The female prisoners, about thirty of them, were all up in first class while the men were back in business class and coach. It kept incidents at minimum, especially during such a long trip. "Five," she said. Just when they were starting to think they were in the clear, there was yet another impact. This one, however, was definitely coming from inside the ship. Perhaps that thing they had locked up in the lower decks had gotten loose. And then there was gunfire. The guards up in first class were on their radios again, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on, and the guys on the other end were screaming so loud the inmates could hear them. And then the sound of tearing metal, this coming from back in coach. And more gunfire, muc closer this time. And an inhuman scream that made Grace's hair stand on end. The guards in first class readied their weapons and moved towards the curtain at the rear of the cabin, but before they could take two steps forward the male inmates started pouring into first class, yelling and screaming and nearly trampling the guards. Some of them were covered in blood. And then the shooting stopped, as did the awful screeching, but everyone was still shouting. Grace and the other women were on their feet now, climbing over the back of their seats to try and see what the hell was happening back there, and then recoiling in horror at what they saw. Bodies were everywhere, guards and inmates alike. There was a torso lying in the middle of the aisle, but the poor bastard's lower half was nowhere to be seen. Next to him, one guard was tending to another with a gaping wound in his gut. "Where's Steinman?" he shouted. "Steinman! Get your ass over here, now!" A gray haired, bespectacled prisoner pushed his way past the crowd and over to the wounded man. The guard removed his cuffs, and Steinman started tending to the poor fellows injury and directing the others. No doubt he'd been a doctor on the outside. And the she saw it. The horrifying monstrosity lying dead in the aisle. It was certainly not like any creature she'd ever seen, Earthling or otherwise. There were no legs she could see, but it had two arms with long, scythe-like claws rahter than hands. And it's face, that nightmarish face... "Oh my God..." .............. "Mayday, mayday. This is ConAir 846, we have been attacked by an unidentified xenomorph, and are requesting immediate assistance. We have multiple dead and wounded, please send help." |
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| ~Alissa~ | Oct 7 2012, 09:47 PM Post #37 |
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***aggressive Xenomorph detected….scanning*** Alissa watched with the rest of the gathered hunters as the pod crashed onto the hanger deck and moved collecting her weapons as she creatures seemed to gather their wits after the landing. ***Alpha protocol….exterminate with extreme prejudice*** Her ships computer often responded with the commands from what Alissa normally considered her old life. She did not feel the familiar shift into an augmented state right away however, her internal systems could not sustain it on their own yet, she pulled her helmet back on and felt her suit push combat drugs which was a new sensation to her. Where the shift between the two states felt natural and right this felt artificial, but it got the job done for the time being. She lifted her pistols from the ground and slid the selectors to maximum fire power before beginning to fire on the intruders. Pulses from the ion pistol were followed by solid slugs, it was effective in most cases, softening targets before finishing the job, still she wished form something heavier, that however as all on her ship. Still she advanced slowly, while it was not her purpose, her creators had instilled in her a lack of fear and a directive to deal proactively with such threats, and at the moment she did not have the presence of mind to find that compulsion. |
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| ~Deadly Aim~ | Oct 7 2012, 11:31 PM Post #38 |
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
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As soon as he had stood to his full height, Travis found himself completely contained in a bubble. (What the...? Some kind of energy shield!) Of course, assuming that it was powered by a small source, this would never hold him forever; Travis had succeeded in bluffing their mysterious captors that much, as he had not disarmed completely. Considering, of course, that his suit itself was a weapon. The arrogance on the part of these blue strangers was starting to slightly grate on his nerves, however. And the response by this bloated fool at Kathi daring to defy his arrogance only further set him on edge. When Travis saw the "blades" extend, he began beating furiously on the energy shield. The nearby aliens immediately heightened their attention as the shield began to ripple and fade under the strain of his fist. He pounded a second time, harder, as he saw the blowhard ready a lethal strike to Kathi. (C'mon... c'mon, go down! C'mon!) And then just like that, Kathi was unceremoniously tossed aside, unharmed as the aggressive xenophobe found himself pinned by an invisible force; or more like an invisible figure, really. "And you know not your place, fool!" Travis immediately stopped beating on the barrier, transfixxed; the figure that seemed to appear from midair -some kind of cloaking technology, he reasoned- had pinned this.. well, zealot, to the floor. I am High Templar Novien, on behalf of the High Executor. And, I see you've already met Dark Prelate Keldorin." The shadowed, cloaked figure stood upright, nearly as tall as the warriors despite his lack of armor. He put one large, blue hand out towards Kathi, as if to help her up. "Now, if you'll pardon the intrusion, I believe some explanation is in order. I've already discerned that you're not who we originally believed you to be, appearances notwithstanding." The High Templar floated forward, the transparent barriers shutting off. "If what is in your Captain's mind is to be believed...and I don't see a reason why it shouldn't be, you have mistakenly strayed from your path and into ours." It appeared the whole boarding action had been a misunderstanding all along. Travis sighed in relief, calmly placing his helmet back onto his head and reconnecting the wrist-cannon to the suit. "Were it so easy to understand, Novien," Keldorin spoke softly, his face mostly hidden by a veil. "The transfer of realities is not something to be spoken lightly of." "Indeed. The artifact that you have found is of great power...and we would be most interested to study it." (Wait.. transfer or realities...!? What is going on here...?) Before Travis could say much of anything, he watched Novien's body language carefully. These mysterious beings did not have faces, so it was somewhat difficult to study them in that respect, but his posture and sudden silence were signs of unease. What did he know that the rest of them didn't...? "We must depart. Ready the fleet," he spoke with a sense of urgency, looking out toward the docking bay port. The sudden burst of hushed whispers and the outburst from the back of the room didn't help to make Travis feel any more calm; you didn't have to be former military that something was either very wrong that something very, very bad was about to be visited upon them. The armies of ornamental soldiers marched toward latticed structures, seemingly disappearing into winds of glowing dust with the structures exiting the hangar shortly thereafter in ordered fashion. "This is the High Executor. All ships, power to weapons. Boarding parties return, immediately! Shield formations, interlocking fire. I want nothing through! Let us show them the might of the Protoss this day!" Protoss...? Is that what they called themselves? That would be another subject for another day though; Travis wanted to know what on earth was coming their way. "Humans, I would retreat, if at all possible, lest you wish to die here," the High Executor said aloud, making his way towards the last of the latticed transports. "You know them not, but the Zerg are terrible, terrible creatures, made for nothing but slaughter." "Hey, what do you mean, retreat if we don't want to die? What are the Z-" Travis couldn't finish the sentence before Novien had boarded the transport and left the hangar. An air of great unease set in throughout the room, Travis taking a moment to regulate his breathing before untensing his muscles. The klaxon and red lights sounding throughout the ship did nothing more then conform his suspicions, Travis readying himself for combat physically and mentally. Warning. Warning. Spacial anomalies detected. Warning: Spacial anomalies detected. "Constantine...? What on earth is coming...?" Travis asked through his own comlink to Constantine, looking around warily. ["Travis??? Oh good, you're alive. I was starting to wander if something had happened when they disrupted the signal temporarily. One moment, I'm using the systems right now; alright, it's not from our visitors, that's for certain.... let's see, there's the spatial- ........ God in heaven, this has to be an error in my program or something."] "Constantine..." Travis said with a hint of concern, watching the look on Voree's face out of the corner of his eyes. She wasn't amused, that much he could tell; he wasn't listening too much to her conversation. "Talk to me, old man, what are you seeing...?" ["Travis... We... I would suggest retreat, but I don't even know where we are; all these nearby systems aren't even in my files. There's millions of bio-signatures coming toward our ships this very minute. Wait.. I'm seeing a high-speed object, heading toward the Claymore... no, two..... ten..... thirty! Travis... Travis, they're closing in! I'm initiating evasive combat maneuvers!"] By now, Travis had stopped listening, standing tense and readying his trigger grip as an impact rocked the ship. Hull breach in sector 4-A9. Hull breach in sector 4-A9. There were a few more series of impacts,each seeming to come from different areas across the ship. (What is going on...?) Travis soon recieved that answer in perhaps the most unwelcome way possible; without warning, a giant black pus-blob of flesh crashed through the barrier and into the hangar, forcing everyone to a higher deck. It was dark and a sickly green in some spots, oozing a purple secretion across the deck floor. Travis quickly scanned it: [Subject contains unknown vascular biomatter; texture and structure consistent with strange substance covering the derelict zebesian vessel.] There was a sudden organic popping sound and something slumped onto the hangar floor; Travis scanned these creatures quickly as well; he couldn't tell what they were. [Unknown quadrepedal lifeform; high amounts of body heat detected in subject's circulatory system, suggesting high-speed movement; use caution.] More and more slumped out of their "eggs", rolling onto the hangar floor in a daze as if to get their bearings. And then, just as suddenly, the all stopped and noticed the group of bounty hunters standing about in a daze. (There's gotta be dozens in this room!) Travis thought to himself. And just as quickly as they had taken notice, a hellish cacophony of screeches filled the room as they all leapt to attack, claws and jaws primed for death. (What on earth...!?) "WHOEVER DOESN'T HAVE WEAPONS OR ARMOR, GET THE HELL OUT OF THE HANGAR RIGHT NOW!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, avoiding the lunge of one of the dog-like creatures before shooting it dead in the back, only to barely turn around in time to notice five more coming up behind him. He knew that pack animals worked together for food, but this seemed almost -too- organized for pack hunters. What or earth was going on!? It's like they were- Something with a much deeper hiss and a roar emerged from the pod, looking at Travis only once; those sharp scythes, that guttural roar; those mandibles, as if pried from the mouth of hell itself. It reared back and roared before firing a barrage of.. some kind of barbed organic projectile from some sort of valve openings on its oblong head. It was almost like that thing was a naturally-formed machine gun with scythes attached! Travis dove around the corner, avoiding the hyrolic assault and returning fire with a few blasts of his wrist cannon. (What are these things!?) "If anyone could give me some cover that'd be amazing!" Travis shouted from his corner. What had he gotten himself into with this bounty!? Edited by Deadly Aim, Oct 8 2012, 01:00 AM.
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| ~Jedi~ | Oct 8 2012, 03:54 PM Post #39 |
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One with the Force and Blade
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[Originally intended for mostly Zerglings, but a few Hydralisks spices things up! ^.^ Keep it goin'!] |
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| ~Twilight~ | Oct 17 2012, 07:13 PM Post #40 |
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Just... Kind of out there...
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OOC: Sorry for the late reply. As always, Boss if anything clashes with what you've got planned just send me a PM and I'll see about fixing it. The dimensional shift, or whatever it had been, had affected Twilight differently to the other prisoners, instead of feeling nausea, or worse, his mind had gone dark as if he fell unconscious. However as his senses began to return to him he could tell that while it had been similar to how he sometimes fell unconscious of exhaustion due to an inability to rest like he had used to, it had been closer to what he assumed was natural sleep. He could have sworn he saw images in his head during it too... Perhaps the whole experience feeling like passing between Aether and Dark Aether to him had triggered something? It was impossible to say just yet, he was still his old miserable self even if he felt a lot more alive than he had in months. Not really minding the whole lying upside down with his back to the door thing Twilight didn't move at all until he felt an impact rock the ship and the grating of metal further down the ship, as warning lights outside the cell began to flicker and a breach alert sounded in the lower decks. Slowly standing Twilight put one clawed hand on the rim of a small glass section of the reinforced metal door separating him from the rest of the ship, trying to look out as he saw several armed guards rush past, shortly before a shrill shriek echoed across the deck and gunfire could be heard, however it was not long before the gunfire was replaced by screams of dying men. Though it felt an eternity just a few seconds had passed and before Twilight could make a decision about how to act a large shadow appeared over the door and a massive scythed claw pierced it in a single swipe causing Twilight to instinctively jump back from it, just as the piercing shriek reverberated through the door. Then the sound of gunfire began once again, as guards seemed to have come from another section of the ship to investigate, but it did not take long for them to also be silenced, after which the creature seemed to have lost it's interest in Twilight and clawed it's way up into the upper sections of the ship. Realizing all the unarmed prisoners were in immediate danger Twilight began to tackle the door, marks forming in it after each attempt, but it was taking too long... With a painful growl he took a step back and begun to swing his arms at the door once again, as black and purple energy seeped from them, but he stopped at the last second. With his lack of control right now he was likely to release far too much dark energy with even such a simple action, he could not risk it... The situation with his lack of control was kind of complicated, it was not just a simple case of being unable to regulate the output of his internal energies, but rather that once he "opened the cork" so to speak, he was unable to truly close it again within a longer period of time. It was not a very wise move to unleash that inside of a ship. And so he instead gripped the hole made by the creature earlier and began to tear with all his might, and soon enough it together with the buckles he had made in the door started to provide results as it was ever so slowly giving way. A couple minutes had passed since the creature had been ultimately killed, but most prisoners as well as guards were still shaken over the incident, it was at this time that Twilight stepped out into the first class hallway, his cloak-like cloth still draped over most of his form and with the hood up, making his multiple glowing red-yellow 'eyes' stand out more than usual, two larger ones situated similarly to a humans and with several others that seemed almost like open wounds above them in a semi-circular fashion, as if it would form one giant eye if the skin between them all were to dissipate. His appearance had caused quite a ruckus but his rather slow and nonthreatening approach had avoided any direct gunfire, even if most guards with direct sight to him had their rifles trailed at him, some shouting for him to freeze or be shot. Having already reached his target; the alien creature on the floor, Twilight did as they asked and kneeled down by it. As some guards slowly approached he inspected the creature, finding it oddly fascinating in the way it was shaped, it's physiology clearly different from just about anything he had ever seen before, it was shaped more like a weapon than a living creature, every aspect of it intended to make it a more efficient hunter. Not even the Ing had been as capable of morphing their different castes to such perfection... "I am unsure what caused it, but we have either stumbled upon a dimensional anomaly, or been dragged into one. From the way the waves of energy felt, I would assume the latter." Being an Ing Twilight took many things for granted, such as being able to feel or to some degrees sense different energy-forms, so it didn't much occur to him that these energy-waves that had dragged the ship with it had not really been felt by the other beings in the ship. Turning his head to look at the prisoners and guards in the hallway he considered giving a speech of how they had to work together to survive this, but he guessed he was pushing it as it was, just having escaped his confinement. Hopefully they would be reasonable... |
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2:55 PM Jul 11