| Flight From Death; The Monoc men and women say farewell to their home. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 3 2012, 10:25 PM (580 Views) | |
| Gleam | Jul 6 2012, 07:48 PM Post #11 |
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Isley frowns. That's all she has time to do before another claw slams down into the grilled ceiling and pries it apart. What drifts then into the lower level is a sort of pungent black mist, tarlike in consistency. It clings to the grating and the floor, merges seamlessly with the oil-stained floor, and then surges towards the two Monoc members. She doesn't pause. She immediately turns and books it for the opposite stairway up onto the garage's main level, dragging Epsilon along behind her. "If you have another one, NOW." she commands, and then has to throw them both to the floor as the mist hurls a gigantic cat's paw at them, the long claws mounted on it scraping floor and ceiling alike, despite their steel make. |
Class. Dig it up, dust it off, hang that shit crooked on an ear. My halo's a land mine rind, amigo.
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| LornMind | Jul 6 2012, 08:08 PM Post #12 |
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Bigger Than A Breadbox
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Fumbling about with his satchels, Epsilon slaps together a somewhat larger seithr generator and tinkers with it much more haphazardly. "HOLD ONTO YOUR ASS!" he shouts over his shoulder, and then tosses the improvised grenade at the mist. The device clinks and rolls innocently onto the floor for a second before glowing a bright red and promptly exploding. |
| When it comes to writing, I'm a zip gun in a prison; one-shot, one-trick, and I'm all you've got. | |
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| Gleam | Jul 6 2012, 08:19 PM Post #13 |
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This time the explosion reacts with the fuel tanks stocked in the back of the garage, and the resulting explosion tears off the back half of the garage and scatters debris for a quarter mile. The shockwave hurls Isley into the far wall hard, cracking her head against the concrete, and leaves a gaping hole in the Monoc compound the size of a two-story building. Even as the dust begins to fall and the rocks clatter to the ground, the regular sounds of the night return - whatever Silence spell had been cast is now torn, and the shattered corpse of a Lieutenant pinned behind a broken toolbox, victim of shrapnel, proves its source. There is a long pause, and then the black, clinging mist seeps up from the ground, and opens a massive cat's eye at Epsilon, as large as an endtable, over a mouth of teeth like a trash disposal. "HOLD ONTO YOUR ASS!" it chirps back at Epsilon, a bizarre alto echo of his own cry, and then launches a second cat's paw at him, this one fully-formed and rippling with muscle. |
Class. Dig it up, dust it off, hang that shit crooked on an ear. My halo's a land mine rind, amigo.
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| LornMind | Jul 6 2012, 08:29 PM Post #14 |
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Bigger Than A Breadbox
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"Isley! I hope that didn't knock you out!" he shouts, "Because I'm gonna need help!" He looks down at his arm and forcefully tugs back a sleeve, revealing a sleek black strip of glassy material. He runs his finger across it and it begins to glow-when the glowing subsides, the material displays: [----------] 0% ΔU He throws his arms out forcefully in front of him and shouts, "Let's see how you like superheated air screens!" [X---------] 10% ΔU Edited by LornMind, Jul 6 2012, 08:30 PM.
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| When it comes to writing, I'm a zip gun in a prison; one-shot, one-trick, and I'm all you've got. | |
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| Gleam | Jul 6 2012, 08:36 PM Post #15 |
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Isley drags herself to her feet, eyes unfocused. There is a smear of blood on the wall where her head contacted it. Nevertheless, she stumbles to the side, behind cover, and drops behind it as she recovers her pistol from where it was thrown. The cat's claw grinds against the entropy shield for a moment, then abruptly is surrounded by a dozen others, manifesting just as quickly. Even as the entropic energy boils and grinds away the keratin points, each limb searches out the exact edges of the screen, and the cat's head quite simply climbs over it, uncaring of the damage done to the paws. It grins down at Epsilon ceaselessly. "QUIET." it says, throaty and deep. "SILENCE IS GOOD." Teeth ripple up from the floor beneath Epsilon, four-inch long daggers that sprout up from the ground like bamboo shoots. |
Class. Dig it up, dust it off, hang that shit crooked on an ear. My halo's a land mine rind, amigo.
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| LornMind | Jul 6 2012, 08:47 PM Post #16 |
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Bigger Than A Breadbox
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"Oh for fuck's sake!" he shouts in anger, dropping the screen and diving away from the teeth erupting from the ground. "Fuck you, whatever the fuck you are!" he yells, bringing his FN to bear and concentrating fire at it's face. His mind is racing all the while; he doubts bullets will do much to bother a shapeshifting mass. Alright...think. Isley is still more or less out of commission because of that knock to the head. My screens aren't big enough to stop it indefinitely. I could... He glances down at his wrist an shrugs. "Hey fuckface! Follow my ass!" he points mockingly at his rear and shoulders the FN. With a quick crack of his fingers, he begins to sprint, and feels his entire body coated with the familiar feeling of energy. It would bleed off quickly behind him, and if the cat followed him, it wouldn't go well. With a wide grin, he looks back and mocks the cat again. "IT'S CALLED 'PHASE', YOU LIKE IT?" [XXXX------] 40% ΔU Edited by LornMind, Jul 6 2012, 08:55 PM.
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| When it comes to writing, I'm a zip gun in a prison; one-shot, one-trick, and I'm all you've got. | |
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| Gleam | Jul 6 2012, 08:58 PM Post #17 |
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The face simply ripples into mist with each shot - the cat avoids solid projectiles by the simple method of not being a solid. The bullets do nothing more than strobe the shades of its complexion for a moment. That changes, though, when it walks right into the Phase trail: the burning energy sears into the gaseous material that apparently compose it, and it screams "FUCK!" in Epsilon's own voice, as it springs back, four wide-spread paws digging into the ground to halt its momentum. If they are indicative of the feline's actual size, it stands taller than a three-story building. The crack of another bullet heralds Isley's reentry to the fight, and she splits the sprinkler system pipes overhead with her shot; water sputters down, splattering over the mist of the cat's body, forcing it to gather more solidly, move, or be washed away. It hisses and chooses to clambers up onto a wall, claws digging deep into the concrete. Another set of teeth protrude from the ground in front of Epsilon, though this time they are accompanied by a mouth the size of a semi truck trying to bite him in half. The attack isn't interrupted when the wall the claws cling to quite suddenly collapses, but it does provoke another "FUCK!" from the giant cat. On the other side, Jagd hefts a construction excavator from where he has just drilled out a support column with it. "Salutations!" he calls, and then pauses to excavate a cat's paw that swipes at him. Apparently, it's an unpleasant experience for the feline. |
Class. Dig it up, dust it off, hang that shit crooked on an ear. My halo's a land mine rind, amigo.
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| LornMind | Jul 7 2012, 05:57 AM Post #18 |
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Bigger Than A Breadbox
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Epsilon sprints only faster directly at the cat's mouth, screaming, "FUCK YOUR MOUTH, YOUR TEETH AND EVERYTHING YOU THOUGHT THIS ATTACK WOULD BRING YOU!" [XXXXXXX---] 70% ΔU He bursts out the other end of the cat's mouth and turns about in time to see Jagd's grand entrance. Despite the putrid substance hissing off his body as it is rent apart, the adrenaline coursing through him at the sheer idiocy of his previous actions and the stings of the few teeth that managed to puncture a few shallow holes about his body, he doubles over, laughing hysterically. Jagd's entrance deserved that much, at the very least; given better circumstances, he would have given it much more. With a wild look in his eye and blood soaking through into his waterlogged labcoat, Epsilon's laughs transmute into a cackle as he one hands his FN and sprays a magazine into the now even more gaping mouth of the seithr-cat. Hopefully is more tangible nature would be it's undoing. |
| When it comes to writing, I'm a zip gun in a prison; one-shot, one-trick, and I'm all you've got. | |
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| Gleam | Jul 7 2012, 06:08 AM Post #19 |
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The cat's head shreds under the vicious shroud of entropic energy surrounding Epsilon; pinpoint fire from Isley and Jagd further dissolve the head until it simply wavers out of existence. Then the ground shudders once, like a distant earthquake, and there is an unearthly sound like a panther's shout, not quite a yowl, more human in vocalization. Jagd whirls and stabs the excavator up into a descending paw, but it vanishes just before contact. His off hand, which had let go just before, manages to point his M&P in the general direction of a second forming behind his back. The blind shot nicks that paw and dissolves it too. The third slaps him off his perch and rips three gouges in his flak jacket and body armor, deep enough to draw blood. He spins in mid-fall and tries to land safely. Only Isley's covering fire, her eyes squinted against her probable concussion, see him through it. And the barrage isn't stopping. Jagd draws his axe and nicks two paws in a blur of motion, and dodges a third with a sideways roll, but the fourth stomps him straight down into the floor hard enough to dent the grilling, forcing the air from his lungs with a grunt. For Epsilon, the cat adopts a more standoffish strategy, phantom tails smacking at him like whips, never staying for more than a half-second or so. |
Class. Dig it up, dust it off, hang that shit crooked on an ear. My halo's a land mine rind, amigo.
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| LornMind | Jul 7 2012, 06:24 AM Post #20 |
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Bigger Than A Breadbox
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Epsilon is buffeted by the tails, feeling himself knocked about every which way; were it not for the pain, it would have been mildly annoying and disorienting. "Okay, seriously," he says through grit teeth, "This hurts and I feel like I'm gonna puke." At last, he has enough and shouts, "ENOUGH ASSHOLE!" He spins once in place, his hand clawed and brimming with energy. "Enough of this shit!" [XXXXXXXx--] 75% ΔU He glances down at his wrist and feels worry well within. He would overheat soon unless he could stay back from the combat long enough to drop again. Right on cue, a useful idea also him him to help them deal with Chesire. He holds his hands out in front of him and sprints to Isley as fast as he can. His entire body aches; the tails really hurt. [XXXXXXXX--] 80% ΔU With a skid, he drops to a knee and says extremely quickly, "Have a plan, just keep my covered while I drop back to safe zone, then I jump on that bastard and fill him with entropy, big boom, Epsy's a hero!" He looks to Jagd and grins, "You hanging on alright tough guy?" |
| When it comes to writing, I'm a zip gun in a prison; one-shot, one-trick, and I'm all you've got. | |
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6:55 AM Jul 13