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  1. The trio moved silently, each in their own ways. Barrett’s small size was his way of silence, footsteps as soft and silent as a lizard. With his sensitivity to perceiving sound came skill at minimizing how much he produced himself. Scents of loam, decay, and fungus pooled in the crevices between hills as they rounded the path of the bugbears. Keeping a wide enough berth not to be heard, they slid into the water below. Barrett kept close to Cadmium. According to their plan and his scouting, he would need enough adhesive for almost a dozen bugbears. This called for a different concentration than the high volume, low density stuff he had made earlier. Now thick bands of mucus began gathering in his tail, their production accelerated by the water it trailed in as they entered the river and Cadmium’s bubble surrounded them. As they rose to meet the bugbears, as confusion and water swallowed them all up, Barrett flickered into action. His tail had become a veritable fin at this point thanks to swelling, and with the right kind of wriggle he actually moved through water quite speedily. The corporal swam circles around his quarries while expelling his extra-thick goo. It came from his pores as a thick liquid, gathering together in the water into a web of thick bands that encapsulated most of those surprised on the bridge. With no idea a web of containment was being weaved around them by Barrett, several were bound before they could even do anything. As time went on, however, the element of surprise quickly evaporated, and the size of his tail was diminishing along with his speed. One bugbear had grabbed him by the ankle as he darted between its legs, but he was narrowly able to slip it out of his grasp. This, he decided was the limit at which he could safely continue doing this. So he beelined for the perimeter created by Cadmium’s water barrier, running his open hand through a cloud of his goo which condensed around his fingers and became a band connected to the mass of stuck bugbears. Bursting out the side of the water mass at the same time as Cadmium sustained an explosive blow, Barrett skidded to his feet and looked back as restrained bugbears flopped down like sausages and the water came with them. Why was it falling? The devil caught sight of his comrades going down too, and ran to the side of the bridge as if he could stop them. Before getting there, however, a powerful kick slammed into him from behind. Bouncy Barrett flew down the length of the bridge and through a thicket of sharp branches into a tree trunk. In doing so he experienced first a rush of air that cooled his wet face, then the sensation of a hundred knives piercing his body as high velocity sticks tore away at his flesh. Lastly, as his body lay wrapped around the base of a tree with dirt pouring down on him, he felt the cool mud on his fingers. The sky was a dark gray color through the branches, and he clutched at the dirt. This was not the friendly punch he had received from Nur. His back was a slab of frozen pain that penetrated his brain like an icicle. His lungs felt as if they were so cold he couldn’t draw in breath as he tried to evaluate how many broken ribs he had, if his back was broken. His fingers released a handful of wet earth, then clutched again along with his toes, telling him his spine was probably still intact. In the dark grey blur he saw the bugbear approaching to finish him off. His hand, clutching, clutching, grasped something wooden. Wooden, but polished. The butt of a shotgun. His little broken body would be hard to see through the brush, so in order to keep silent and because it was about as fast as he could move. Leaned against the tree, he heard the thing’s clumsy hands swooping through the bracken above him. Finally its meaty fingers parted the last veil between it and Barrett, and CRACK!!! A moment after Cadmium surfaced and Nur resolved after being whacked with a club, the sound of shotgun fire rang through the air.
  2. The trap Titus had intended for the now-blinded Goliath to get himself into was sprung. The lightning bolt flared toward Goliath, while Goliath’s blaze armor boon flared out. A spear of electric blue pierced the carmine rush expanding from Goliath, impacting him square in the chest. While Goliath’s Blaze Armor defended against roughly half of Titus’s initial Lightning Bolt, both it and its consequent four bolts would circuit through Goliath’s body. If a quickdraw bolt had been enough to knock him down, Titus neither had the time nor imagination to imagine what five 2-prep, 1 persistent advantage bolts would do to the poor guy. As the boon swallowed up the moving Titus, as Shivers came within feet of him, a crimson blaze of its own ripped forth in an orb that expanded out from Titus’s sword hand. Ignite wiped away the fire that encroached on Titus, swallowing all three of them just back as Shivers collided with his target.1 Titus’s back had been to Shivers, but the big man was still in motion as he moved around Goliath. Using his heightened spacial awareness2 to dive left just as he heard the shifty Shivers growing speedily near, Titus was able to offset a decent amount of damage. However, his sword would be knocked out-of-hand and his right shoulder dislocated as he spiraled into a skid five-to-ten feet away from Goliath and Shivers, leaving the two within the blaze of his Ignition to get a taste of his own fire. Titus’ knees were bloody and there was a ringing in his ear;- he’d bit through his tongue and his right hand seemed to be the only part of the appendage responding to him at present, but he still had the presence of mind to come to a slide so he could see his assailants, rising so that he faced them and wiping the blood from his chin. He exhaled steam and his back became rigid once more.3 His sword had landed a foot farther from Goliath and Shivers than Titus had, so he picked it up in his left hand. These were the closing moments of the race. Never let your foot of the pedal, he had always told himself in these moments. He told himself now.4 “Jo-nana! Are you okay?” He said to the space somewhere behind him.
  3. A Wyld World

    Cain appraised the group. The Changeline was either imbued with power from the bags he carried or possessed it inherently, but Cain trusted him enough to follow him into a strange portal as long as it got him away from here. He picked up on the woman's expression on entering the clearing and summed up that she too had probably come upon this entourage unwittingly. Then there was Syr, who managed both to threaten and elicit a grin on the word 'appletinis,' even despite Cain having a gunshot wound to the chest. He concluding that he could find an inconspicuous enough part to play here. Even if the predator after him had tracked him halfway across the country, he was sure moving into the Wyld would change up the pace of the chase. There was just one more factor he knew could be holding him back. After grabbing himself a super-generous amount of slack, the man who introduced himself as Sao tied a bit around his waist and handed the spool to Bella. Kneeling then, he made a shovel with his hands and raked dirt aside until there was a shallow hole. Procuring a small disc-shaped bag from his chest pocket, he put it in the ground and buried it. Besides, taking it into the Wyld would probably have messed up the calibration even more. This area, before they entered into the portal, he burned into his memory, and watched as they departed into the shimmer that signified deeper darker parts unknown. A gloom of resignation fell over him as he turned away from it and faced the Wyld to see... well, to see basically what he had seen before they entered. Trees and foliage and such, the ground and air seemed quite similar. But the taste. The taste of the place told Cain there was potential for danger. It was so profound on his tongue it almost became a buzz in his throat, and that was when he became aware what Arun meant when he said "shaped by whatever consciousness' it touches." Suddenly the realization came crashing down on Cain that he had not escaped danger in fleeing civil war in Tia at all but instead perhaps stumbled headlong into another directly life threatening situation. His eyes jittered toward the ground as advanced calculations ran through his head, like: "how the fuck did I get here?" and "oh Satan please don't kill me yet." And then he got his priorities lined up. His back straightened, and the man in the puffy jacket spoke. "Arun," said Cain as casually as possible, gesturing back toward their entrance with a bundle of thread in hand, "If something else were uhhh, to come through there, would it be able to find us without the thread?" Next, as Arun formulated an answer, the man known as Sao focused on controlling his consciousness and the thoughts he let this place take away from him. Nobody wanted vampires with 20 rows of teeth jumping out at them.
  4. "Good j—" The four foot tall, gecko-like Barrett only had time to glance toward Nur before receiving his jocular punch in a manner somewhat resembling the way a playground ball receives a foot. Bouncing off the ogre-like fist, his body showed surprising muscular elasticity in the manner he was able to hop-skip to a halt on his feet after a short but amusing distance. There would be a bruise, but Barrett was grinning widely from under his cap at having passed on the tradition. He extended a thoughtful hand as Nur repeated the exercise on Cadmium, before deciding he wouldn't have stopped him anyway. This had been Barrett's first assignment away from the squad he'd begun serving with, but he felt quite as home here as he had with Michael. When Nur first grabbed Barrett's weapon and slanted it upward, he took it as a comrade examining his arms perhaps in admiration or even smugness. That is, until Nur aimed the barrel at his face and looked down it. Barrett was reminded that any given convention likely flew right over Pvt Theferal's head, and casually shifted the barrel away from Nur. "Is shotgun! Make big bang," he said, pointing at the product of the big bang. "Not as good for catch far away." Cadmium's fist hitting the bugbear's face meat alerted Barrett to the other situation. As he turned a thin forked tail emerged from beneath his waistline, which slithered behind him as he climbed the branches of the top tree toppled onto the bugbear. He perched there and committed to some sort of preening process on his newly grown tail. The motion consisted of rubbing his hands along his tail in a fashion that would look lewd if it wasn't for the look of focus in his eyes. After rubbing the length of his tail he began spreading the goo it had been born in on his arms and legs and face. Through licking his fingers like they had something sweet on them and between rubbing motions he watched the translation between the bloody Nur and his subject with interest until Cadmium gave him his orders. "Aye aye, 'tenant." The last and most diminutive figure to emerge before the bugbear seemed to affirm its resignation, Barrett could see in its eyes. He thought only to derive a little pleasure from the process that followed. Removing a small roll of cloth from his pouch, one of many, he covered it in the mucus his tail was still excreting en masse. The motion was practiced, the regularly highly sticky substance spreading evenly along the cloth. Then, stretching it flat with one hand on either side, he secured it over the bugbear's snapping jaws while retaining eye contact. The cloth was wide enough that no matter how wide it spread its lips, it still covered the mouth entirely. The muffled grunts and growls coming out were punctuated by intense flaring of its nostrils as Barrett stood on its back. As the larger creature thrashed beneath him, the smaller inhaled deeply and spread his arms. Grabbing branches and contracting them in toward himself, he gritted his teeth and pushed a muscle inside him that regular people did not possess. This muscle, while operating initially as the gland that secreted the mucus Barrett used, was also a mechanism for pumping it out through his skin. This he presently did, and after a few moments the bugbear and a web of thick branches around him were attached to the ground by a giant web of thick adhesive. The more the bugbear thrashed, the more it stuck itself to and the more hopelessly entangled it became. Barrett, with the goo sloughing off him effortlessly, didn't think to warn it- didn't spare a word for savages who didn't value the lives of others- as he followed his teammates into the brush. "I'll be able to scout the enemies by feeling out their vibration. I'd safely say I can detect them from about 20 feet away. We can use that to slip between patrols and stay hidden in the dark if necessary."
  5. The moment during which Titus settled back on his haunches to take off running was the same moment where Shivers dodged his shield. This was when Goliath would find that the two were about to face off; and so both large men took off toward one another almost simultaneously, half a second after Shivers’ shield dodge. Before Titus had even closed five feet between them running down the aisle, however, Goliath was off hiding among the pews. The silver line of murderous intelligence across Titus’ eye widened into a fuller ascertainment of the situation as his opponent hid and the shield clanged to the ground, rolling off and settling somewhere near the front of the church. Not only did he have spacial awareness ingrained into his very being1, but he had been primed to the tricks of these fighters by explosive example. These factors altogether dispelled the illusion that Titus could run full boar up to a concealed enemy, so he crouched and continued his approach with his sword before him, power gathering in his hand and hilt.2 The very first thing Shivers would see as he turned to the clash of Tituses was the pew bursting into splinters as Goliath, primed by Titus’s footsteps, punched up and through it. Titus would be just inside the two-pew area of effect when the fire boon blossomed from Goliath’s fist. Having been moved slowly and prepared for some sort of surprise, he was able to hop back out of the blast in doing so squaring his back to Shivers just as Joanna blew up the lights behind him. He extended his blade alone forth to be engulfed by Goliath’s fire, his form framed in righteous brilliance that was reminiscent of his grandfather's intense fighting style.3 Another thunderous bolt of electricity burst from the point of Titus’ sword, covering the remaining three feet to hit the center of Goliath’s chest one quarter-second after his hips finished the extension of his rise. This thunderbolt seemed to light up and invigorate Titus with enraged glee, like a bull that saw red but with a frightening level of intelligence. He wouldn’t let himself get carried away with attacking though, because if his opponent could withstand this blow there would certainly be some defending required. So it was that the lightning bolt’s heat continued to build in Titus’ chest.4 His back was to Shivers, but he was aware of the assassin’s cleverness so kept in motion, rotating around Goliath to Goliath's right and Shivers’ left as his bolt issued forward.
  6. Wyld World OOC

    I'll toss in a post tomorrow! Lookin forward to this shindig ^_^
  7. Cadmium’s dispensing of his bugbear was a sight to behold. Barrett emerged from the brush a few feet behind Nur, spectating as an admirer of the fighting style larger soldiers could employ. Of course the size differential was still quite present, but Barrett couldn’t help but wince as the man withstood a mace blow that would have crushed him. *squash* Barrett, watching Cadmium as he followed after Nur, stepped on something orbular whose gory consistency made him hop along one foot and shake to shake it off. Looking ahead, he saw that Nur’s forearms painted crimson and grabbed at his crotch reflexively with his free hand. And here he thought he was brutal, waving his shotty around like a big ol’ phallus. “Holy shit,” he said to himself as Nur went into motion adding weight to the last bugbear’s entrapment. Realizing this was a two-man job without needing priming, the scamp reslung his sawed-off and hopped to it. Barrett took up slack behind Nur. Together they lowered one tree onto the other until the bugbear’s agonizing pushup became a Sisyphus struggle and he lowered back to the ground. At that point Barrett pulled the slack behind Nur taut and secured it around a strong tree’s trunk, leveraging enough supporting force for the top tree to settle where it needed to for the bugbear to remain in place. “Locked in,” he said, patting imaginary dust off his hands as he came to stand a sufficient distance before the bugbear.
  8. “I understand ya buddy!” the smaller Barrett grinned up with his pointy teeth, resisting an urge to play-punch the much larger Nur for fear of what it might instigate.. For a moment, before play-punching Nur on the arm and watching closely, amusedly enough that anybody who knew what the word meant would see it in his eyes. To most who observed Barrett, violence was simply not in his nature, so it would obviously be a playful move, but Barrett was willing to push customs for fun. “Everyone learn together,” he added. When the three-man squad came within a few hundred yards of the amended bugaboos, Barrett no longer needed his range finder to know how close the nearest ones were; the vibrations their feet made on the ground touched the cones of his eyes which peered invisibly from black cornea. Although he didn’t use this sense to tell his companions that 'this was where they should make their stand,' he himself used it to know how close he could get before unintentionally rousing their attention. Barrett admired simplicity not because he didn’t see the complexities, but specifically to avoid them because some complexities, plain and simple, upset him too much. So it was that he did not stay for Cadmium's evaluation of the human parts dangling from this-or-that. He did not want to look at all, so instead dropped to his hands and feet and went horizontally along the ground toward the bugbears with their vibratory presence considered in his every direction. He moved with a naturally serpentine pattern but consciously reduced side to side movement, so the result- while surprisingly fast and quiet- looked a little like a shimmy. Barrett was able to secrete a highly viscous adhesive from his pores that normally assisted him in climbing slick surfaces. However this adhesive also generated nourishing fats and provided insulation in cold weather, so he was able to store it in his tail. Presently doing so in great excess, the corporal slithered this way and that between the location of the bugbears and them, coating the area with his natural secretion in all different concentrations. Some spots were slimy, some were slippery, and some as thick as super-glue. He returned to his comrades’ sides as Cadmium finished stuffing ball-bearings into an apple, tail either tucked into his shorts or unaccounted for. Now, now the regularly humorous Barrett stood and let himself watch the tatters of flesh dangling from bugbears like trophies. The way dead skin moved like drapery in the wind had always disturbed him, but who would he be if it deterred him from doing right? Certainly not himself, and certainly not worthy of stepping out of his predecessor’s shadow. He forced himself to grin that resilient grin, with the one tooth poking out that he would never admit was intentional. As Cadmium's fruit dashed off its intended target, the bugbears turned and saw their own targets. Barrett flitted off to the side, taking cover using his size and some trees unaffected by Nur’s tampering. What happened next the others might not suspect, not having known the imp. When the first wave of rude monsters came upon the point in their path where Barrett had already been, they began slipping and sliding all over the place. Three or four slipped and fell on top of one another in the turmoil, one being trampled and the others scampering slipperily up to continue with the fray. Then, halfway to Cadmium, a child-sized and wormlike object writhed in the path. This would either be seen or trampled like the bugbears, exploding in a much-encapsulating emulsion of Barrett’s adhesive. He had been careful not to cover the ground on which Nur worked, but closer to the bugbears to that so by the time they traversed his nightmare, they would also be soaked in Barrett’s. The creatures’ momentum would not be stopped, but by and large slowed and made clumsier. The adhesive stuck fingers and limbs to themselves, one another, and the ground; quivers of bows stuck together, the impingement of bow arrows reducing in kind. Now, off in the brush where Barrett had most recently disappeared, there was silence. Something was bound to happen any minute... Some torrent of flames or blaze of gunfire..... “RUUNNN Gaia noooo!” Barrett burst screaming from a thick of bushes, pursued by three bugbears who had looped around seeing him abscond into the woods. These, as a result, were not coated in his slimy residue so moved freely. Sprinting as fast as he could with a futuristic Winchesteresque sawed-off unslung from his back, Barrett ricocheted with purpose from tree trunk to rock, then to higher branches until the bugbears had to destroy trees to bring him down- which they began doing. But begin was all they would do, as fat slugs with two-piece sabots for extra range hailed out of an extended and separated back barrel modified to hold several rounds. Barrett ran no longer, but fell with his gunshots upon the ones who chased him. The kickback of this vicious semi-automatic weapon literally halted his descent with each discharge, tongue poking out and brow furrowing against the blood splatters, until what he descended upon was no longer a group of bugbears but a puddle of human-hating muck. There must be survivors yes, but not all could have such luck. The complexities within his eyes now were deep and dark. Out of the carnage skittered the little turquoise Barrett, jumping over a half-ribcage and following after Nur in a V-shaped trajectory with the other slimified bugbears. Out of a fanny-pack on his back, he withdrew a cartridge and swapped it out for the one seated in his firearm, pocketing the empty and promising himself to restrain his lethality a little.
  9. Wyld World OOC

    Posted!
  10. A Wyld World

    Public Faux-ton transportation all around Terrenus went offline as the technology’s progenitor, Tia, fell to a swarm of vampires. Emergency travel remained available for government and military personnel, but the line between government and enemy had been blurred in Tia so even those lines were presently switching off at a rapid rate. There was, however, an auxiliary Faux-ton route heading northeast out of the fray. During their heyday, the Faux-ton receptacles flashed a bright turquoise that signified industry and public movement. Now there flashed a wan, green resonance across Terrenus as a man with a gunshot wound and a government insignia, both on his chest, fled from Tia. First he landed in Moonwood, a miscalculation due to hasty escape. After lying in the mud, calibrating the small discus that was his Faux-ton, he zapped to the next available receiver on the outskirts of Ignatz. There he bought some dye made from a berry paste and dyed his bright, red hair black. Then, in Dougton, Cain used some of the gold in his pocket to buy a stationary kit, a servant, and a thick grey parka. He wrote a letter to Lt. Andrew Jorjorean of the former Tian Problem Solvers, telling him to send two men to meet him the southwestern tip of the Coconino Marsh and providing some longitude and latitude. Cain concluded that he was injured and on the run, then biting his thumb to draw a bit of blood, pressed it onto the part of the page where a signature might reside. When he withdrew it, there was left Tia’s regent, Nica Sero’s, seal. He gave the letter to the servant and told him where to find the Problem Solvers, then headed for the village by the Marsh where he would recover and wait. But the boy, running over the river and through the woods, did not to grandmother’s house go. He was intercepted by Karalanos Dolos, a vampire hunter. (Not one who hunts vampires, but a hunter who is a vampire. A vampire who was built to hunt.) Cain was resting in a hovel, hair blackened and and bundled up in his thick parka. “Sao,” he had said when asked his name by the indigenous people, asking for lodging for the next week. He was fussing with his Faux-ton again because the device having sustained some water damage back in Ignatz. He had needed to use two whole jumps to get form Ignatz to Dougton, and hadn’t even bothered jumping from Dougton to the Marsh. Beneath the parka he had removed his official shirt and washed away the blood, but there was a gaping wound bulging with what looked like black tentacles. His Troll tattoo quickly wove together the lining of the injured man’s left lung and nursed shrapnel away from his heart’s lower left ventricle. Outside, he could hear the crackle of fire and the intonations of hushed conversation outside his wooden hut. There were only three walls to it, the separation between Cain and the men outside the thick scaled hide of some swamp creature. “Hm?” This quitely muffled sound would be Cain’s only warning, before an ash-haired assassin pulled back the flap to his shelter. Karalanos’ multiple rows of jaws were draped with gore and yet he grinned gleefully, and the look horrified Cain even though they had not been monsters of too different an ilk in their time. “Hello C--” Karalanos barely got the gratitude of that horror before another pale, green flash of the Faux-ton separated prey from predator. Cain stumbled into a clearing and almost fell to his knees, a little disoriented but in surprisingly little pain. He could tell from the loamy smell and the foliage that he was still near the Marsh. His jacket was hanging open over his shoulder and his left arm was out of its sleeve, clutching the Faux-ton disc to his chest. His arm was touching the black stuff over his shot wound and he couldn’t feel it. That was good. It meant the protective layer had already begun to weave his tissue back together. Then he looked up and saw a tear similar to the one he had escaped imminent death through, and a man. No, Cain’s special eye told him it was something else. But he couldn’t tell what. Certainly he wasn’t a vampire, or Cain would have been gone in another instant. Maybe he would have dove through the hole. Then Cain saw the bags. Smelled them. He pulled his arm through the sleeve and zipped up his jacket enough to cover the pulsating wound, but Arun had already seen it. “Who are you?” He asked, clutching the disc to his chest. This man was looking at him, but not with a look like Karalanos had. “My name is Arun, the leader of this expedition.” Cain listened to the individual speak, wrapped into the story of the Fae and what they must drop off, and of conscience. Was this a sign that he should be here, or a sign that he shouldn’t? Cain had never been good at deciphering what the signs meant, he had just followed his instinct. “I believe you're up next?" “Sao,” he responded automatically, sternly. The black-haired mage had risen on expeditions like this, but besides the Wonderworld exhibit at his museum he had never understood much about a place shaped by one’s consciousness. Especially involuntarily. His conscience, he worried, had been deeply troubled as of late. And he had only come here because he was running, didn’t even know their cause. But these types of groups of vagabonds and abstracted heroes were his natural camouflage so this entourage that arrived around him, he decided, would be his disguise. “My wife and kids were killed in Hell's Gate so I came looking for work.”
  11. “What? Sup? Name not sup. Am Nur the Feral." “Ahh,” hummed Barrett insightfully, thinking for a second without breaking eye contact with Nur. Barrett himself had once had to learn this language, so knew the mannerisms and expressions of the process. His next words were extra-articulate. “How do you feel today, Nur the Feral?” The little devil flipped his ID shut and pocketed it. Had Barrett been an elf before? No, certainly just a little devil from the Wastelands, but he was quite elfish. Nur had the uptake down on his ears. Had the bugbears been nearby? Insect-like? Not really and no. Barrett’s little forefinger probed a couple candle nuts out of the crumpled paper bag, then he lit them both and popped one in his mouth. "But let's forget all of that sergeant and private stuff. I work better on a first name basis. Let's get away from these fine folks and talk a little shop... We get any intel on these bugbears? Number? Weapons? Me and Nur weren't told much other than that to put a stop to all that, so I'm hoping you had a chance to scoop up some of the local flavors. Worst case, we set up on a hill and observe from a distance." As they moved to the designated lookout tree, the corporal finished eating and pocketed his bag. Then he relayed to Cadmium that the school teacher and others back at the stop had likely exaggerated bugbear numbers and the damage they did, but it was said that bugbear presence on this bridge had done catastrophic damage to through-traffic. Barrett cited it as fear-biased speculation, but speculation to be minded proportionally nonetheless. There was evidence such as crushed buggies and carts of goods that gave some weight to their stories. Then when they reached the tree, Barrett followed Nur up with monkey-like grace, but many more movements and a little slower given his size. He settled a couple feet to Nur’s left as noiselessly as a squirrel and offered up his rangefinder binoculars, gesturing with pointer finger and middle finger for Nur to put the smaller end up to his eyes and look off in the direction of the bugbears. “Two hands and more,” said Nur. “Two hands?” asked Barrett, looking at his own hands. “Axes,” said Nur. “Ahh, they got axes” said Barrett. “Wood bashers with big pokers around,” “Maces?” “Bow arrows.” “Bows and arrows!” He wasn’t even sure anymore if he was correcting Nur’s terminology, reiterating it for Cadmium, or just enjoying riding Nur's learning curve, but Barrett’s statements listed absentmindedly between Nur’s. Then he was immediately on his way down to Cadmium, having been doing calculations of his own presentmindedly. “We’re a good three to three-and-a-half kilometers out, but the area of effect around them is growing. They were right to call someone out; the path they’re on doesn’t uhh, well, it doesn’t look like it’ll stop on its own. Based on their lumbering progression and the first reports we received, I would say this area has a one, maybe two week cushion before there’d be bugbears knocking shit around here. “That’s the report, serg-- er, Cad-mium,” said Barrett with the name leaving his mouth awkwardly, as if he had thought about saying Cad but opted against it. “Shall we move toward the ruckus?”
  12. Two Realms As One

    Still here! I'll be using Cain Rose Will try to post today but it might be a tomorrow deal
  13. Two big ol’ guys and two stealth ninjas, what a Naruto episode. Or is it that there Boruto the kids are raging about these days? Well Titus, imagined little skeleton leaf drifting on a murky puddle of backstory, didn’t even have the time or character complexity to consider it, or really anything besides him and these two fellas. Luckily his eye-in-the-sky Jonana was there to help. Sort of. More than if there had been nothing probably. The wall was able to take care of that prism, which Titus wouldn’t even have had time to do much about, by matter of the way the incident carried out. Just as the real Shivers running off to the side became visible around the corner of Titus’s shield, the whole thing went kablooey. What, exactly, Titus didn’t even know. All he knew was that he had a bead on the guy he really wanted to follow while doing his best to defend against the direct frontal assault, and as soon as his boots hit the guy’s feet there was an explosion. It rang across the church, shattered a pew behind the Shivers double. The bolt discharged cheaply at the first impact of the Shivers double or his resultant explosion. This explosion itself singed off Titus’s leg hairs real good, knocked the sleep right out of his eyes and the plaque off his teeth. While his shield had been able to absorb most of the direct impact on his torso, it was now dented and perforated like the surface of the moon. The force of the blow had not only stopped his forward momentum, but sent him begrudgingly skidding backward into the crook made by gracious Jonana’s earth wall. All in a millisecond, his glorious collision with the Shivers double had become his folly, but the red had already crept into his vision. The fires of the hell to which he would relegate Shady Lucious, which illuminated his every thought and dream, would be the only that consumed Titus too, and so as the heat burned away at him and he slid back, he tucked as much of his body behind the aspis as possible. Even as he was rocked backward, there already gleamed a singular, murderous twine across the center of his eye, and the only way to rid himself of it was to take the Sisters’ scissors and cut these lives short.1 Only two seconds after the explosion, the beastly Titus emerged from its pluming smoke cloud. As the prism tilted backward, falling down the sloped side of the wall Titus bear crawled out of the cloud to his right into a stand, pivoting counterclockwise on his fists like an ape as he did so he had a good view of Shivers and Goliath. As he exited the smoke, he stifled the urge to roar so that Shivers, with undoubtedly loving eyes on the precious Jonana, would not likely hear his attack. Instead he just exhaled through his nostrils like a bull. Titus took his dented shield like a 3 ft diameter discus and hurled it with all his might. The curvature of its trajectory would first bring it intersecting with Shivers' back-left floating ribs region, moving at a diagonal away from him toward Jonana, and if that was a miss it would come clanging into Goliath's shins, god forbid the guy hadn’t moved in like 5 whole seconds. IF it didn’t hit Goliath either, its roll would bring it settling somewhere a little farther back from their original starting position. 2 His positioning was so that he came to Shivers’ original side of pews, but was about four sets of pews (~12 feet) back with a growing and dispersing cloud of smoke between them. It appeared, at this rate, that Shivers was also crossing the aisle toward Joanna and Titus was outside the loop. Titus took one more second to settle back on haunches he couldn’t even feel stinging- my sword this body, my armor this body, my power this body- and with his father's training mantra echoing in his head rocketed forward with terrible force that made a dent where he was standing or made stuff float for a second, or some other vain and meaningless Dragon Ball Z shit.3 He was running straight toward Goliath with Shivers in mind just enough to accurately detect the figure should anything move his way from that. His legs pistoning outward, his body became a locomotive that built speed and momentum with every thrust. He ran with sword held in his right hand at his left side, as if it was sheathed though it was not. Goliath would see that line of fate shining angrily in Titus’s eyes, but beyond that nothing more than an animal bred for war. There was spittle flying from his mouth, dirt and scrapes on his arms, actual steam rising from his flesh as he barrelled toward Goliath. Did Titus even possess the mental faculty of speech anymore? Whatever, there were about twenty straight-on feet between him and Goliath, and Shivers was off to his left and diagonally forward heading toward Jonana, who was a little farther off to his 10 o'clock.
  14. This pit-stop was a pleasingly sizable estuary of the city that poured out into the rest of the world. It was wide enough for a company of soldiers and shady enough to protect vendors and weary travelers from the midday sun. Here and there along the sides of the swelling in the pathway were short rock outcroppings overgrown with grass, commuters lounging on and around them in all manner. Families with children, political envoys, traders, and military folk alike communed here. There were city patrols that normally had a bead on the place so it was largely peaceful. There were, however, occasional cases of unsupervised hassling such as thievery or small fights, or in some instances it could be something as simple some out-of-line bug bears hassling a food car. About twenty feet left of the incident there was a big family, or a daycare or something. Plenty of kids ran around, a frazzled woman doing her best to keep a perimeter between them and the direction of the bug bears. There were several gatherings of people that also served as a buffer between the children and the insect monster things, but the bags under her eyes suggested she thought all of the Terran army would be insufficient were she not standing her diligent post between her children and the slightest danger. Instead, she comforted herself by allowing them to listen to a humanesque, slightly greenish creature that stood only about a foot taller than her kids. Barrett the elf wore a tan boonie cap over his pointed ears, causing them to poke sideways out from his head. The hat strap hung loosely below his chin, plastic clasp loosened all the way, whipping this way and that with the wild gesticulations he made for his audience from his perch atop a rock outcropping. “O but why have you killed my sweet Gaveston!?” the tiny frame wailed as he wilted and withered, covering his face with folded arms. Pausing. The children slowly scooted closer, looking at his prone form. Out from beneath the crook of his elbow peered one of his gigantic, glistening, black orbs. It was upon that they were all transfixed, until he burst out of his prone position with foreign and elegant gusto, waving his hand about as if writing his name in cursive with a sword. “Off with your heads! Die die!” yelled the forest creature to the delight of the children, as their caregiver realized he was telling them a story of death and deviance and came to shoo him off. “Thank youu thank you!” See, Barrett may have just aggravated the lady, but he knew he'd just corralled those little bastards into their favorite story of the week AND away from the bug bears. So it was satisfied that he sailed off through the air from his perch, moving sprightly toward one of the vendors and purchasing a bag of candle nuts next to one offering some guys corn cakes. Paying and expressing gratitude for his nuts, he faced the cake vendor and leaned on the nut cart. He took out a lighter, lit the candle nut, and popped the non-burning end in his mouth like he was smoking it. Looked like these were his dudes right next to him. One looked over and made eye contact. The childlike elf nodded from the shade of his hat brim, suavely flicking open his military ID in his hand and flicking the candle nut into his mouth with his tongue. “Sup?” *crunch* *sizzle*
  15. Wonderland Resort: T1cs Elemental Team Tournament

    I did make a couple small edits, thanks.
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