Feyfalken: The Lost Expedition

Discussion in 'Role Play' started by AnonyMouse, May 6, 2014.

  1. Mike Nemesis

    Mike Nemesis Active Member

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    Christoph blinked his eyes open slowly, trying to ignore the pounding in his head. His throat was dry and he found it strange that this was the first thing he noticed as he tried to move and realised the state he was in.

    He had pushed himself hard during his attempts to rescue as many of the Feyfalken crew as he could. He recalled the doctor that had knocked him out and while he wanted to thank the man in a less than friendly way for his now pounding head he couldn't help but agree with the decision. If the roles had been reversed he would have done the same and probably given the man a good tongue lashing on the stupidity of his actions when he came to. His behaviour wasn't something that should happen in a position of authority. He had to acknowledge he had limits just like everybody else otherwise he would just become another liability, again.

    He moved his hand to push himself up off the ground and was greeted with a new jolt of pain. He dropped his gaze to his bandaged hand and let his eyes wander up to see that a lot of his upper torso also seemed to be wrapped up to cover his shoulder that had been involved in a steam burn. He had obviously been given something to counter the pain which would explain the slow recognition. The horrible thought dawned on him that the burns could be more severe than he had originally thought. He remembered hearing somewhere that severe burns could damage nerve endings resulting in a deadening of pain. The bandages didn't look a healthy colour and he hoped that wasn't an indication that they were that severe. Perhaps it was wise to continue lying on the floor for a bit longer.

    The medical team had their hands full and no one seemed to have noticed the fact he had started to stir. The fact he was laid out on the cold metallic floor of the medical bay with only a thin cloth to act more as insulation than padding said a lot for how crowded the place was and just how in trouble the crew was. Larger gaps were left between bodies to act as aisles and those in more dire condition or still leaking various bodily fluids that could lead to contamination seemed to have been treated to beds. The architect of the Feyfalken had imagined disasters but had clearly never quite dreamt of one to this scale.

    He couldn't twist his neck round comfortably to get a full view of the room, the sensation of tearing wounds round his shoulder was enough to dissuade him. The two men and one women in his field of vision next to him all seemed to be unconscious or at least he hoped that was what they were. He desperately wanted information, to know just how bad the situation was and who was left and perhaps more importantly how long they had before the next assault...

    Johnathon strode down the ruined corridor, the cries, moans and shouts from the Feyfalken crew resonating all around him. The pain had been almost unbearable when he had first regained consciousness, but after the energy had wracked his body a strange feeling had come over him. Leaving the wrecked training room it had felt like cool water was running over his wounds, easing the pain and stiffness of his body. By the time he reached the mangled door to medical his steps were strong, and though he felt mentally exhausted his body no longer sung a chorus of discomfort and pain.

    Pausing before the medical door Johnathon examined his hand, noting an arc of blue energy sparking in a small cut on his right hand, watching in fascination as the cut closed over. Shaking his head he pushed into the crowded medical room, he had too much to worry about now to ponder magic. Immediately upon entering the room flashes of filthy tents amidst muddy fields filled his head, bile rising in his throat as the smell of blood slapped him in the face.

    The room was a picture of organised bloody chaos. Doctors and nurses rushed to and fro, patients lying in varying conditions wherever they could. The atmosphere was grim, not a smile to be seen, and pain seemed to be only held back by a knife edge by the cool demeanour of the medical staff. Though to Johnathon's experienced eye he could see they too were near breaking point.

    "Doctor Kane!" a young doctor cried, upon seeing him standing in the room. Everything seemed to freeze as people turned to face him, expectant and hopeful looks on their tired features. Johnathon swallowed, sometimes he wished he could disappear, but now wasn't the time. These people needed him, his people needed him.

    "In the flesh son." he replied, extending his voice so it reached even the corners of the room. "Today has been a terrible day." he said, looking around at all the face. "But how we conduct ourselves now will define what we do in the future, define our fate. If we fall to pieces now we'll never see home again, that's a fact. But if we hold together, hold the line. We'll see Holdenheim again. You've made me proud. Don't let me down now." he said, finishing with a nod. "Carry on."

    The buzz of activity instantly, as if a switch was flicked, burst into life. A new sense of energy filled the room, hope and a stubborn sense of determination driving the work. Watching the life return to the room Johnathon breathed a small sigh of relief. Morale had held, for now. Wiping his brow with a shaky hand he walked amongst the carnage helping here and there, a pool of calm belying a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that resonated with the scene

    Christoph's mind snapped back to attention as he heard someone shout Dr Kane before the man addressed the room. He wasn't sure whether he had briefly lost consciousness again or if his mind was just wandering. Ultimately the answer mattered little either way he wasn't fit to move for the next hour or so unless the situation really called for it. He tried to call out but his throat just felt raw from all his shouting out in the hunt for survivors. The noise that escaped might have been enough in the medical room normally but it was pitiful with the backdrop of groans of pain and soft weeping that now haunted the room. Instead he had to resign himself to waiting until he heard footsteps nearby, even if he couldn't comfortably turn to spot who it was.

    "Water, I need some water."

    The footsteps paused a beat before continuing, this time drawing closer to him. A presence suddenly filled the spot beside Christoph and a gentle hand touched his fore head. "Here Sabre, drink this." Dr. Kane said quietly, pressing a canteen to Sabre's lips.

    If it had been anyone else Christoph would have thought of himself as showing a sign of weakness by not holding the canteen but with Dr. Kane he simply sipped the water and avoided moving any more than he needed. The water was about the only pleasant sensation he could feel in his body, the one thing that brought relief and wasn't accompanied by any sharp discomfort. The Doctor withdrew the flask after a moment allowing him the chance to speak.

    "I'm glad to see your ok John." Now didn't seem like the time for formalities and he was just happy to see someone that didn't look half dead even if the Doctor was worse for ware.

    "How bad is it? Do you know what happened to Vlad or what’s coming next?" His voice sounded gravelly and rougher than usual, it would be awhile until he could get back to comfortably bellowing out commands down corridors again.

    Sighing, Johnathon sat on a crate next to Christoph, his exhaustion finally slipping out from beneath his facade. "I'm not going to lie Christoph," he said quietly, massaging his forehead with his right hand. "It's bad. From what I've seen the ship is in a terrible condition. An un-flyable condition." he said gravely. " As for where we are or for what happened to Vlad I have no idea. But for the moment I think," he paused. "I hope we are safe for now."

    "That's about as much as we can hope for I guess. If Vlad is...if he's currently missing I guess I can't stay lying here then. I could be in worse condition I suppose.” He tried to force out a laugh but it came out more as a choke, hardly the image to fill the doctor with confidence.

    “ I need to find out what's left of our security team and make sure they're helping where needed." With a groan he propped himself up, careful to use the hand that wasn't cut. His vision blurred for a moment as he adjusted.

    "Don't suppose you know just how drugged up I am right now?"

    Johnathon considered for a moment before looking away, gesturing at a nearby nurse to approach. After exchanging a few words with the harried looking woman he turned back to Christoph.

    "You've only had a small dose of painkiller but I would prefer it if you remained here and rested until you're ready to move. I recognize the situation however and understand if you feel you have to go, the crew needs strong leadership right now. If you think you can provide that even in your current position then I won't stop you. However if you are going I demand that you take someone with you." he said sternly. "There's no point in you going if you collapse from exhaustion just down the corridor."

    He paused weighing Dr Kane's words. If he was only on a small dose that was a good sign for his pain but a bad sign as he didn’t explain how slow and weary he felt. The last thing he wanted was a babysitter even if he had to concede that it was a fair point. He could hardly convince Dorian he was fit for the post while someone was there propping him up if need be.

    "You can't afford to lose any man power right now. I'll rest for a short time, it would be the sensible thing to do. Maybe there will be a clearer picture on the situation when I'm ready to move. But if anyone from security stops by tell them to see me before they leave so at least know it's not falling to hell any more than it already has."

    "I will." Johnathon said, grimacing as he heaved himself to his feet. Glancing down at Christoph, "If you need anything please let me or one of my team know. And Christoph." he said, becoming still for a second. "I'm glad you're." a series of loud screams cut him off and Johnathon's head shot up as a bloody man, writhing in pain was carried in.

    Dr Kane's face seemed to pale slightly but without another word he hurried towards the scene.
     
  2. AnonyMouse

    AnonyMouse Contributor Contributor

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    Dorian staggered toward the open door and squinted in the sunlight. The Feyfalken was pitched forward slightly, on account of its nose being buried in the muck at the edge of a lake. He did not even notice this fact until he stepped out and nearly fell on his face. He needed to get out, even if that meant crawling on his hands and knees or teetering around like a newborn fawn.

    He'd spent so much time wandering the halls of the off-kilter ship, with a mix of adrenaline and terror pounding in his chest as he searched for the dead and dying, that he'd forgotten what it felt like to walk on flat land. He had also forgotten what the sun and open sky looked like. He gawked at the sky for an unnaturally long time before coming to his senses.

    This could've been a beautiful day, he thought as he turned his eyes to the rows of dead crewmen lined up on the ground, covered in sheets, tarps, curtains, anything.

    "Forty-two," someone said. Dorian turned to see a member of the security team standing behind him, rifle in hand. "Forty-two dead," the man repeated. "We counted."

    "Oh… thanks…" Dorian murmured. "I wasn't counting, just… reflecting, I suppose, but thanks. That's good to know, I guess."

    He soon realized this security officer wasn't the only one. A cluster of other men were standing nearby, all with rifles pointed at something. Dorian followed their aim and saw that they were training their weapons at Fey. The horned creature was standing about a hundred paces away, ankle deep in the water, near the partly-submerged nose of the Feyfalken. Her back was to them, but he suspected she knew they were all lining up a shot on her.

    "VC told us to keep an eye on her," the security officer said. "After the bodies stopped coming, she headed inside to 'work on something.' Didn't tell us what, but told us to report the dead count to you if you showed up and to make extra sure that thing" −he pointed to Fey− "doesn't try to escape."

    "That thing has a name," Dorian said dispassionately, too tired and emotionally drained to be angry with the man or with Integra for giving such a callous order. "Stand down, gentlemen. Fey's not going anywhere. If you're looking for something to point your guns at, scout out a perimeter and see if you can figure out where the heck we are."

    "Already did, sir, and found no threats in the immediate area," the man said. His gaze flickered to Fey when he said 'no threats.' She was clearly the exception to that statement. The others still hadn't lowered their weapons. "Are you giving us permission to scout further out?"

    Dorian took a look around. The Feyfalken had crashed in an open field, with only sparse trees. If anything approached, they would see it coming from a mile away. Scouting was rather pointless, unless they went all the way to the distant tree line. The other side of the lake, for example, had a rather thick forest, almost jungle-like. Anything could be lurking there…

    "Just set up a perimeter and keep an eye out," Dorian said and began to walk away. He would need to set up an exploratory party later, but not until the homefront was secured. The situation in medical was still too dynamic, his vice captain was acting strange, and there was a water demon skulking around. Damn loose ends, Dorian thought.

    He approached Fey slowly, but the sound of the waves lapping at his boots gave him away. Not that it mattered; he couldn't sneak up on a demon. Siren, he reminded himself. The 'd' word was making this a lot harder than it should be, but those horns were had to ignore.

    "Forty-two," she said, when he was a few feet away, "and twenty-one more in medical, at least half of whom don't look like they'll make it."

    "So you've been counting too?" Dorian said as he stood beside her and tried to see what she was staring at, far across the water.

    "Hard not to, when you can feel each one slip through the Divide to the Other Side," she said. "I am the Feyfalken. I'm watching them right now, fighting for their lives in medical." Her eyes turned toward him and he found a strange mixture of compassion and rage there. "If you don't make these people pay for what they did to us, I will."

    Us? Dorian thought. It made sense now. He understood why Integra wanted Fey to be watched closely. She wasn't afraid of Fey; she was concerned that Fey would storm off and do something drastic. "How did you and Rei meet?" he asked, out of curiosity.

    "She inherited me from her father, who inherited me from his father," Fey said. "Long story short, the Lancasters have a few skeletons in their closet, captain, but I'm sure you know that by now. She'll never admit it, but I'm the closest thing she has had to a friend for years… until you all came along. These people are more like family than her flesh and blood relatives ever were. What happened today, it's personal. Her rage is just a little different from mine. She's a slow burn, I'm more of a thermonuclear holocaust." Her smile was sinister.

    "You'll need both, captain," Fey said. "I sensed a power within that flying mountain and they sensed power within the Feyfalken. This isn't over yet. They will be back. Next time, we will not face them alone."

    "What are you saying? There's no one here who can help us… is there?"

    She nodded to the jungle on the far side of the lake. "Today we weep, tomorrow we reap," Fey said. "In the meantime, go check on Rei, would you? I worry about her, you know, especially when she starts channeling the ol' Lancaster ingenuity. She's in her lab, trying to raise a ship from the dead. Would you be a dear and see to it she doesn't hurt herself, please?"

    Dorian nodded and turned to leave, headed back inside the ship to find his vice captain.
     
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  3. Dagolas

    Dagolas Banned

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    Atticus opened his eyes.

    The room around him was blurred. Why?
    Slowly, he adjusted to the room around him.

    He hadn't got his glasses. He tried turning his head, and saw them lying next to him, the lenses crushed to a pulp. He could feel bandages on his arm and head. What happened?

    He tried to get up, but pain seared through his arm and head and he reclined back into the bed.

    "Hello?"

    His voice went unnoticed however as groans and screams filled the room, people hurrying to and fro amidst the chaotic mass of bodies filling the room. From where Atticus lay he thought he could see a mass of doctors, their white coats now filthy with blood and grime huddled around a table, limbs thrashing on the table as screams punctuated the air.

    "Please..." he ventured again.

    He couldn't move his right arm. Each and every tiniest movement, the smallest blink, brought immense pain through his body. He could see doctors... A medical ward?
    As his hearing came back to him, the groans and screams did nothing to reassure him.

    "Hey there buddy, just relax. Everything's going to be ok, you understand?" a strong voice said.

    Turning his head Atticus saw a large man in a white coat hovering over him, expression concerned. "How are you feeling?" he continued.

    Atticus tried to straightened himself up again but winced.

    "Bad," he said. "What exactly happened? I have no recollection of how we all got here..."

    The screams of the other man still pierced the air amongst the cacophony of groans and moaning.

    "We had an encounter with some sort of enemy vessel. Long story short, things didn't go our way and we crashed, badly." the man replied, checking him over. 'That's not the whole story but in your condition I'm not going to trouble you with all the details."

    "I see. Did anyone... not make it?", he asked. "Captain Dorian...?"

    The man's face grew cold. "Sir," he said. "A better question is who did make it. The Captain thankfully did survive, but many have died."

    "I see," said Atticus. He hadn't had the chance to make any friends yet, but still felt sorry for those who had died. "Who did this?"

    "To be honest with you I have no idea." The doctor replied. " All I know is the rumors, and the rumors are crazy. Talk of a floating mountain shooting beams of heat."

    "I see, troubling. I won't keep you from your work much longer."

    He tried to get up a last time, and found no pain. He got up and staggered a few paces.


    Sabre tried to rest, he knew it was what he needed but the moans were just to much. Each one he tried to identify to a crew member he had pitched in with, to someone he had played a hand of cards with or one of his security team he had sparred with for countless hours. Not knowing if his mind was leaping to conclusions or if that person was safe just meant more stress. He knew he had resigned himself to resting but 10 minutes in already seemed like an eternity. When a crew member staggered off a bed and down an aisle of bodies nearly tripping straight over him he decided he'd had enough. He caught the man by the leg to make sure the next step wasn't onto his chest and then used the man as a crutch to pull himself up.

    "I think I have enough injuries myself without adding you falling over me to the list." He would of added a more light hearted slap to the man's shoulder but it didn't look like the man was in a fit condition for that, but then again he might not have the energy right now for the man to notice he had even been slapped on the back.

    He took in the man's build and was already considering him as a potential recruit to supplement the security team if need be.

    "You don't look like you should be going anywhere unsupervised, which I would say puts us in a rather similar situation. I don't think the Doctors will let me leave here alone so what do you say to helping me out? I need to see what condition the staffing and the ship is in and I could do with a capable pair of hands."

    He couldn't help but feel the ship was in a dire situation where he called a man staggering into him a capable pair of hands but right now he had a feeling that he would have to settle for anyone still standing even if it was rather dubiously.

    "Thanks. I think I can handle this."

    Atticus turned to one of the doctors that had just managed to stem the blood loss of one of his patients and was taking the moment to attempt to clean himself to the best of his ability, despite the fact the Feyfalken had been well stocked the doctors seemed to be running short of clean clothing and medical gloves and were having to make do with what they had available on hand right now.

    "Please, this man needs to see the captain urgently," he said, "important business."

    "And you are?" asked the doctor distractedly as he scrubbed his arms over zealously.

    "Doctor Atticus Judge, research scientist aboard this ship. Will you let us see the captain?"

    "Oh, very well." The Doctor waved them off clearly not having the energy left to bash heads with any more head strong patients right now when he was needed in so many places at once.

    Using the injured Sabre as a crutch, he walked painfully out of the door which immediately shut behind them.

    "Right, what now?"

    "I guess that very much depends on what we find." Sabre stabilised the man's weight and thanked the fact that they coincidently had the worst of their injuries on different sides so that the man wasn't resting all his weight on his burns.

    "This isn't much time for introductions but I don't think we've ever interacted properly. I'm Sabre."

    Up ahead an ugly gash tore part of the ship in two and a large strip of metal had been haphazardly dumped over the gap and bolted in to temporarily create a 'safer' walkway. Two lengths of rope hung limply to each side trying to safeguard against the drop on each side.

    "I need to establish what happened to Vlad and try to get permission from the captain to see if we can spare any able bodies to scout out where ever it is we've crash landed while we work out just how we're going to handle another attack in this position."

    "Another attack would be disastrous," said Atticus. "I wouldn't mind scouting about where we are, I'm guessing most of the lab got wrecked anyway, I won't be of much other use."

    Even though Atticus was 20 years his senior he had to consciously think about not calling the kid 'son' in his next statement. It was a nice gesture but it was just to naive.

    "I appreciate the offer but just because we made it out of the medbay doesn't make us able bodied. If your using me as a crutch your not fit to put yourself out in an unknown area of operations. We need someone that can move fast if they find something or if they find themselves in trouble. If we send out anything less we're just have to consider sending out a search party to find out what happened to you."

    "I'm sure there's plenty of less demanding leg work to be had, we're working with a skeleton crew right now by the looks of it and we need more man power than we ever have."

    Atticus considered this. He was being too hot headed, of course he couldn't go running around, he had just been in a serious crash.

    "Let's find the captain, then."
     
  4. Moonbeast32

    Moonbeast32 Member

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    Luceen woke

    He found himself in an uncomfortable slump against a large iron crate. The cargo bay was in ruins. Shelves were tipped over, various pieces of machinery were scattered along the floor, even some of the crates had broken open. The smell of smoke was prevalent, as was the signs of injury and death. It looked as though one of the containers tipped over and crushed another laborer just a couple feet away.

    Luceen stood up. Despite how hard he must have hit his head, he felt no dizziness or fatigue. In fact, He felt quite alive. Luceen surveyed the deck. It seemed he was the last one alive in the cargo bay. Several trails of smeared blood led to the exit. Apparently nobody noticed Luceen when the medics came to drag the injured into medical bay. Why hadn’t the come for him, did they think he was dead?


    Lucceen checked his pockets and produced a shiny metal object. It was a small cylinder, about 3 inches in height, and 2 inches in width, it was made of pure silver. Luceen frowned, noticing some dents that weren’t there previously. However, any damage it sustained shouldn’t affect its usefulness. Luceen was just glad he he hadn’t lost it. After all, it contained a piece of his own vital energy.

    True, it was much weaker now than before the impact, but Luceen could still feel vital energy burning within the object, just like the vital energy burning within himself. He must have subconsciously siphoned energy from the object to keep himself alive.

    With a satisfied nod, Lucen pocketed the object, and headed for the exit. Getting there was becoming a challenge. The impact had transformed the cargo bay into a labyrinth of fallen crates and debris. As he climbed over ruined equipment, Luceen couldn’t feel the life signs of any other potential survivors. If there were any left, they’d be in other parts of the ship.

    The door frame of the cargo bay’s exit was severely bent, the door barely hanging onto its hinges. Luceen had to climb over some wreckage on his way out, but fortunately someone had cleared a path through the destruction. Luceen entered a dim hallway. All but a few of the electrical lights in the ceiling had gone out, leaving the way forward dim and perilous. He wasn’t sure what else to do, so he followed the trails of blood that lead to the medical bay.



    It wasn’t long before the stench of the overworked med bay reached Luceen. The tiny room looked like it was meant to only hold 5 or 6 patients at a time. The medical personnel had stuffed all the serious cases inside, and laid out those with the less urgent injuries on the hallway floor outside of the medical bay. A hellish chorus of sobs and groans hung in the air.

    Nobody paid him mind when he entered the medical bay. All the doctors were administering to other patients. Ahead of him, there was a man with a large slice in his gut. Luceen could feel the man’s vital energy burn dangerously low, and dropping at an alarming rate. He knew the man wouldn’t live, no matter what the doctors do for him. A nurse knelt beside him, cleaning the wound. Luceen approached her.

    “He’s a lost cause, you know.” Luceen said. The nurse looked up at him with a start. “what?”

    “That man. He’s a lost cause. you’d be better off attending someone else.”

    The nurse glared. “How would you know?”

    “Trust me, I know when someone’s a lost cause….. and I think you do too.”

    The nurse paused, then bowed her head and sighed. She stood up and knelt by another patient.

    Luceen put his hand on the man’s chest, and felt his vital energy. It burned low, like a candle. Any second now, it would blow out, and the man would die. So Luceen decided he wouldn’t let it go to waste. As if flexing an invisible muscle, Luceen siphoned the man’s remaining vital energy into himself. The man let out a final breath. Suddenly Luceen felt stronger, healthier, and more alert. Then, Luceen took the newly aquired vital energy, and stored it in the silver object in his pocket.

    Luceen smiled. He had severely drained the silver cylinder back in the cargo bay, and it was always wise to keep his reserves stocked at all times. Luceen stood up, and located another “lost cause.” This time, it was a woman who was impaled in the chest. Her breathing was ragged, and Luceen suspected her lungs were punctured. He knelt down, and was about to siphon when a gruff voice called behind him

    “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”

    Startled, Luceen looked up to see who it was. One of the doctors was striding up to him. Luceen steeled himself for a confrontation.
     
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  5. AnonyMouse

    AnonyMouse Contributor Contributor

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    A storm of people and bodies had engulfed Johnathon the moment he had left Christoph's side. Humanity had been stripped away as he fought with death over the possession of the injured. Experience and skill were his stout allies but death had chance and misfortune on his side. And for all those stabilized death's dice still rolled on their survival, serendipity an elusive beast.

    All storms end however, and when Johnathon found no one’s life blood draining out around his hands or critical burn to treat he was at a loss. He took to double checking all the patients' status, but finished far sooner than he would have liked. In such unsanitary conditions chance played a much larger role than Johnathon liked. Death's dice rolling far more often.

    We weren't prepared for this. He thought. Looking around the packed medical room, crammed with bodies. It reminded him of a butcher's larder, stacked with meat ready for processing. Johnathon's stomach turned at the idea and he turned away, clenching his fist. No. He thought. These are men and women, not slabs of meat.

    Sighing he closed his eyes and went to wipe his forehead but stopped, a fraction away from his face. Snapping his eyes open he confirmed his fear. Covering his arms from nail to elbow was bright red blood. Touching his skin it clung to him like a pair of crimson gloves, refusing to move even as his hands began to tremble.

    With a quick glance around Medical once more he fled down the twisted corridors of the Feyfalken, his arms seeming to sit in suspended animation before him figures passed around him like shadows occasionally, ghostly cries echoing through the ship. In a blur he reached the outside, blinking for a second at the sun before spotting a body of water to his left.

    Numerous figures passed him and some began to yell out to him, but their voices were lost in the thundering of blood passing through his ears. Any second now it felt like he was going to explode, the crimson gloves feeling like they were pulsating as his hands began to burn.

    Stumbling into the water cool liquid splashed around him as he drove his arms into its depths. Sinking to his knees as he scrubbed furiously at his hands, the gloves of blood stubbornly refusing to disperse. "Get. Off. Me." he hissed, through clenched teeth.

    The horned demoness stared down dispassionately at the man kneeling in the water, furiously scrubbing at his hands, as if he wanted to rip his own skin off. “You’re scaring the fishes,” she said calmly, but he did not seem to hear. She took a small step back and clutched Dorian’s coat a little tighter around her body. Despite being made of water, she had managed to not get it wet. The good doctor, with all his splashing, seemed intent on rectifying that.

    Fey folded her arms. “Really, Jon Jon, this is rather unbecoming of a medical professional, don’t you think?” she said. “Come now, you’ve done all you can --I should know, because I’ve been watching-- and that, my dear, is all that can be asked of you.”

    Johnathon froze, his hands still submerged. Flakes of dried blood rising to the surface to bob like a cluster of small crimson rafts. Intent on this scene, shakes began to wrack his body until it seemed like he was convulsing uncontrollably. It was only as he slowly got to his feet that he realized he was laughing. Glancing down at his sore, but now clean, hands he turned to face the demoness. "In all my years, I don't think I've ever been called Jon Jon." he chuckled, wiping the moisture from his eyes.

    Fey smiled. "The line between tragedy and comedy is remarkably thin. I am glad you have found your way to the correct side of it," she said and extended her hand to him. "Or perhaps I am merely glad you found your way to me. Since you haven't swooned at the sight of my profound beauty or recoiled in horror, I take it we've met before, Doctor. Such sweet dreams… and then we wake to this nightmare."

    "I wasn't sure whether you were even real until I saw you again. Our first encounter feels like it happened almost a lifetime ago." he said, stepping into a comfortable distance for conversation. "I'm surprised you don't remember it, it certainly left a mark on me." He continued, glancing at his hands subconsciously.

    “Oh, I wasn’t actually there,” she said with a slight laugh and a dismissive wave of her hand. “It was all in your head, dear. The siren’s song merely plants a seed. What grows is up to you. I have no control over that.” She frowned slightly. “But since you’re actually glad to see me, I suppose it did not bear rotten fruit… if only the same could be said of the others.”

    "Hmm, glad is a strong word." he replied, an image of the Siren's cold hands thrusting him into the air flashing before him. "I'm not unhappy to see you either though. Especially now." he said, turning to face the mournful sight of the Feyfalken.

    Activity had begun to slow as the frantic rescue operations evolved into recovery jobs and many crew members had simply collapsed with exhaustion or despair on the ground. Makeshift shrouds the only thing separating some from the dead.

    "I'd hoped to never see something like this in my life again." he said quietly, aware of the Siren's presence behind him. Turning away from the scene he grimaced as he felt the beginnings of a buzzing sensation start up in his chest.

    "I'm just glad we got off as lightly as we did. And..." said pausing for a moment as if to gather himself. "We would have died without you so...thank you." he said, meeting the Siren's gaze fully.

    "And I without you," she said. "Sirens are parasitic creatures, dear. Transmundus is my original home and its pull is strong; I don't belong here. If I wish to remain in existence on this plane, I must attach myself to those who are anchored here. Whether it be a lustful romp between the sheets or a quiet moment of tender affection, I literally thrive on your love.

    "Some might call this an arrangement of convenience, but I consider it my deepest pleasure to serve you all," Fey explained. "My dear friend, Reina, thought she was torturing me by binding me to this vessel. She couldn't be more wrong. I am blessed with a crew which loves their ship. The last few months have been a feast for me. You say 'thank you,' but I was really just giving back a fraction of what I've taken… and I'm not done yet. Mark my words, the people who did this will burn."

    "I'd rather not see anyone burn if it was men manning that ship," he said quietly, flexing his hands as the slight buzzing sensation began to spread down to his fingers. "In my experience violence simply begets more violence and an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind, as the saying goes anyway." My first impression couldn't have been more wrong, he thought, trying to clear his head in an attempt to calm the energy that seemed to be slowly building up inside of him. She is a succubus, or something akin to it. A siren, as she says.

    Fey slowly nodded. "Fair enough. I am accustomed to not seeing eye to eye with humans. Unlike most, I find these differences endearing," she said, rather placidly. Her eyes studied the clouds for a moment, enjoying the relative peace of an open sky. After a long pause, she spoke once more:

    "Would you mind if I told you something interesting, doctor?" the siren said. "Where I come from, there is no violence, no hatred, no anger... but there is also no love. I learned those things when I came here, to the world of humans. These feelings are the reason I refuse to go back to where I belong, and why I will do everything within my power to cling to my existence here." She smiled. "So, when a man tells me violence begets more violence, I merely nod and say 'yes, you are correct...' and he is, in away. But what that man fails to see is that love begat violence. The real question is..." Fey gestured to the bodies lined up on the ground and the wrecked ship half-buried in the dirt. "The real question is, what did they love so strongly that they would do this to the people I love? And how can I express my love, knowing there are those who would destroy us?"
     
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  6. Master Attano

    Master Attano Active Member

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    Johnathon was quiet for a long moment, his brows nitted as he considered what she had said, struggling to contain the energy that seemed to course through his body, before he spoke. "I did wonder why you remained here." he said gently, trying to calm the soft buzzing sensation that was increasingly creeping throughout his body. " And I do understand what you are saying in regards to violence, trust me I do. But would real love not be corrupted in the act of burning people, people who have hopes and dreams and loves of themselves, in it's name?"

    "Their love was corrupted the moment they slaughtered my crew," she said, rather dismissively. "I no longer care what they hold dear." She paused for a while, but her eyes never left his and a smile --or was it a devious grin-- began to creep onto her face. "Tell me something, sweetheart... what is real love?"

    "I wasn't talking about their love but your-" Johnathon stopped mid sentence. The question seemed to strike him from out of nowhere, grabbing his attention and forcing him to consider it. "Well." he said quietly, looking down at his hands. " I would say it's something, a feeling perhaps, where you would do anything for it and never harm it no matter the cost to yourself. But there would be something more to it...something..." Running his hands through his hair he struggled to find a word as he looked back at the Siren. "I don't know." he finally said. "I don't have much, if any, personal experience with such a thing. Why do you ask?"

    She smiled at him for a long moment, as if awaiting more. The gentle sounds of wind on their faces and the lapping of waves at their feet were the only sounds. Even the groans of the dead and dying seemed to fall away into silence.

    "Trust me, the more you experience it, the less sense it makes," Fey said, when it seemed the quiet would crush them both. Her fingers brushed his cheek as her gaze held him, paralyzed, and time seemed to slow. Panic began to set in as his heart beat like a drum; her other hand was upon him as well and her face was moving closer. His mind screamed at him what was coming: a siren's kiss, the kiss of death. The instinct to move, to fight, to throw her off was intense, but he remained there, dumbstruck, frozen in place by something he couldn't explain... something that made no sense.

    But, at the last moment, as he mustered all his willpower, her lips turned aside. No life stealing kiss was placed upon him. Instead, she laid her cheek on his shoulder and sighed. Johnathon couldn't help but take a breath in surprise. She was warm, except for the icy nubs of her horns, cold against the side of his head. Her hair was a veil of impossibly thin strands of water, like the morning mist on a slow-moving river.

    "Love will never make sense," she said as the teeming energy drained from him and into her. He felt his body relax and some sense of normalcy return, despite being in the arms of a watery creature he knew nothing about. "And that is why I will never tire of pursuing it," she said.

    They stood there for what felt like an age, as Johnathon struggled to process all the information passing through his head, his breathing slowly returning to normal. The first thought that clambered to the forefront of his mind was that there was a remarkable and beautiful creature resting almost in his arms. He thought he might be prepared for such a thing after their first meeting, but experiencing it in the flesh was much more profound.

    The second thought that begged his attention was the comforting absence of the bubbling energy that had felt like it was filling his body before, and if not for the Siren resting on his shoulder he guessed he would have felt completely normal, if not tired.

    "What do I call you?" he quietly said, silently fascinated by her unique form which was even more interesting up close than at a distance.

    "Oh?" she said, slightly startled by his question. "I thought we would have ironed out that little wrinkle in your dream, Dear Doctor. How crass of me, getting all touchy-feely with a fellow who doesn't even know my name. My, what you must think of me..."

    She was smiling from ear to ear as she took a small step back from him and coursteyed like a proper lady ought, pinching the hem of the captain's coat between her delicate fingers like a ball gown. "I am called 'Fey,'" she said as she lifted her head, meeting his eyes once more. "That is the name I was given, though I have gone by many."

    "And your real name is unpronounceable in our tongue, yes I remember." he finished, amused at Fey's display. His demeanor grew more serious however as he rubbed his arms, feeling colder than he did a moment ago. "You... you did something to me just before." he said, hesitantly. "What was it? And while we're on the topic could you please tell me what the blazes is wrong with me?"

    "Short version: you're a sponge, darling, and it's raining," she said with a smile. "In fact, you could say it's monsoon season; this little patch of real estate is teeming with energies flowing from Transmundus. I've never seen anything quite like it. This would be great if I could harness it, but, alas, I cannot. In choosing to live on this plane, I have forfeited the ability to process raw energy. Fortunately, there are plenty of humans around to unwittingly process it for me. I was just..." she shrugged innocently, "wringing you out. You, Dear Jon, are the cup through which I sip from the eternal spring... and what a deep cup you are."
     
  7. Keitsumah

    Keitsumah The Dream-Walker Contributor

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    Vlad grunted as he pulled himself onboard the Feyfalken through a slanted door. Though his balance was quickly compromised the moment his foot found equally slanted flooring, and he tripped. There was a loud bang when his body struck the wall, and he lay still for a moment.

    No pain. It was almost as if his body had been numbed, and he had the strangest sensation of awareness. Not awareness of himself, but ofher. Vlad closed his eyes and breathed deep, remembering the darkness. The quiet. He had been at peace, or as close as he could have been, and it had been wrenched away from him. Now he was no better than the creatures in the black forest. A husk of what he had been, only he wasn't about to kill those he had been sworn to protect. Maybe they had been protecting something too?

    He shuddered and gripped the piping along the wall to support himself, pushed himself up and into a standing position. He heard footsteps, and then someone rounded the corner.

    Dorian nearly collided with the man. For a moment, he didn’t recognize Vlad, and almost didn’t stop. He got about two steps past him before the realization of ‘oh, shit, that was a person --a living, breathing person-- sank in and he wheeled around to see who it was.

    He looked… smaller than Dorian remembered. A lot smaller than a dragon. The somewhat oversized and haphazard clothing he wore didn’t help.

    “Great god, what happened to you, man?” Dorian murmured. Vlad began to slump, as if the words had sapped what little strength he had left. The captain quickly caught him before he could keel over. “Easy, I got you,” he said as he looped Vladimir's arm over his shoulder and propped him up.

    "I don't know." Vlad shook his head, then sighed. "Where do I begin? I didn't know. Now I do, and I should be dead." he rasped. "I should be. If not for Fey I would be. I deserve it. I'm head of security, and I failed to protect those I was assigned to..."

    He remembered something then, and frantically pressed his hands to his clothing. But these weren't his clothes. The knives. The papers. They were gone. Blown away in the chaos of what had happened.

    Vlad began trembling violently, but a strange, almost giddy expression came to his face then. Shaky laughter emanated from his chest. "Th-they're gone. They're gone! He can't do anything to me here. I won't have to kill you!" He laughed louder, harder, and would have collapsed on himself if Dorian hadn't been there to hold him up. Tears of relief streamed down Vlad's face.

    "Right… riiiiight," Dorian said with a slow nod. "We wouldn't want that, would we? How about I get you to medical, friend? There are lots of friendly people there, to get you the help you need, hmm. C'mon, right this way."

    He carefully began to walk Valdimir toward the looney bin, but stopped short when a sudden thought came to him. The last thing Vladimir needed right now was to see the medical ward, which was already overflowing with the mounting evidence of their collective failure. The poor boy was driven mad with grief; he didn't need to see more death.

    "On second thought, let's… ummm… let's head up and check on the garden, shall we?" Dorian made an abrupt turn and began climbing a short flight of stairs toward the ship's greenhouse. Compared to everywhere else, the garden seemed relatively peaceful. That's where he needed to take Vlad, not that tomb where a flock of harried medical personnel presided over fresh corpses like crows dining on carrion.

    "You don't believe me do you?" compared to his previous outburst, Vlad suddenly sounded like his old self. But he refused to look up, and instead continued to hobble alongside Dorian. He nearly tripped on one of the steps and almost dragged them down, but he grabbed a pipe along the wall and helped to steady them while Dorian huffed alongside. When they reached the top, Vlad was able to support himself and separated from the captain. Nervous energy coursed through his veins and he combed both hands through his hair, then gripped it. "What do we do? Sabre, the Doc... are they alive? If you don't believe me, ask them."

    He looked to the Captain, hoping that he might see some form of belief, but all he saw in the man's gaze was that he was looking at a lunatic. Vlad grit his teeth and knelt to the floor, muttering words under his breath in Arcanian. Praying to what gods his mother had told him about, but never seemed to be there. No. They had never been. There was no "seemed" to it. They just had simply never been.

    "Why...? Why am I alive? Why did you preserve my life when I was better off in the darkness, Fey?" he rasped. "I am not better than those creatures in the Black Forest now. My life is bound to yours. I am your puppet. I cannot hope to destroy an immortal, nor do I have reason to. I am a petty creature, petty even by Aeternian standards. A half-breed. I belong nowhere. I should still be in nowhere. That was where I belonged. I can only throw myself at whatever you tell me to do and hope I can return to the darkness soon..."

    Trembles wracked his body and he stood up. Eyes bloodshot, hands cold as ice and clutching at his shoulders. He stared at his feet. Bare, vulnerable. Before all of this he had been one of the most promising students at the Academy. And then he had intervened. All of this would be different if he hadn't had to take those orders. All of this would be different if—

    If the emperor was dead. Vlad's trembling stopped as abruptly as it had started.

    “Are you done?" Dorian said after a pause. “Look, I’m not very good at this crying thing, so… well, here’s a handkerchief,” he said, fishing a grubby, slightly blood-stained rag from his shirt pocket. “I already gave my coat to that ‘immortal’ you’re blabbering about. You’ll have to settle for a dirty handkerchief. Now, if you’re done bawling, what are you talking about? Who can’t do anything to you here?”

    "The emperor." Vlad stated, and refused the handkerchief with a small wave of his hand when it was proferred. Something dark clouded his eyes now. "The emperor is the one who cannot hurt us here. The emperor is the one who sent us to find a damned rock. There was no 'exploration' for research. He wanted a stone like the one I have here, only bigger." Vlad held up the pin his mother had given him so long ago. But something kept him from flinging it out one of the shattered windows and losing it forever. "My mother was an Arcanian assassin, code named Swift-blade. She was trapped on this side of the border and fell in love with my father, and I am the result. She, as well as a small team, stole a valuable atrifact from the Emperor's vault itself. This stone is what they stole. After she was trapped in Aeternia and had me, she fell ill, and passed the stone on to me before she died. The emperor apparently thought that he'd lost his precious egg for good. When he called me before him not a week after i joined the academy, he told me that there was a ship being built that would travel deep into the heart of the Sands, and that I had a one way ticket on it to find him a new, bigger stone, lest I be labeled a traitor and executed."

    He spoke with cold precision, hatred dripping with every word. "He told me that once we found such a stone, I was to lead the security force on this ship and mutiny against you under the emperor's orders, then head back to Aeternia immediately. I had papers to prove it, but now they are gone. I also had a pair of ghost-blade daggers, but I can prove that my mother trained me much more effectively than those petty teachers at the academy ever had. I never wanted to hurt you, hurt anyone, but fear can drive a man mad. As I am sure you have seen before, captain."

    "Yeah… that sounds like something he'd do," Dorian muttered to himself.
     
  8. Dagolas

    Dagolas Banned

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    Atticus walked up the corridor and found two survivors. One he recognized as the Captain, and the other he had vaguely seen on board. They both looked quite worse for wear, the nameless one had blood and dirt on him.
    "Captain, what exactly happened? Who attacked us?"
     
  9. AnonyMouse

    AnonyMouse Contributor Contributor

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    So, the Emperor is looking for philosophers stones? Is that what this is all about? Dorian thought, still trying to make sense of Vlad's ramblings. The leader of a nation founded on science −a nation that had fought and bled to disprove magic− was looking for magical stones in a land of mystery. It reeked of hypocrisy. Dorian felt disgusted with himself and the country he served. People died for this? For this, of all things?

    Apathy gave way to a slow, seething anger. He had half a mind to shake Vlad and force him to take it all back. It was all lies; it had to be lies.

    But, deep down, Dorian knew it was true. He knew the sort of man the Emperor was; he knew the webs that man could weave. The upper echelon of Aeternia's noble families was a cesspool of corruption, selfishness, and blind ambition. The Cromwells, the Lancasters, the royal family… it nearly made him sick to his stomach just thinking about it.

    "Captain, what exactly happened? Who attacked us?"

    The sound of another voice made Dorian wheel around so quick, it nearly looked as if he would strike the man. When he realized who it was, he took a deep breath and calmed down. The Emperor's not here, he told himself, to calm his beating heart. He's thousands of miles away and I doubt we'll ever see him or home ever again.

    "Atticus…" Dorian said, after another deep breath. He was slightly surprised he remembered the man's name, since they had only spoken a handful of times on this entire voyage. Atticus Judge was supporting Sabre, who leaned limply over the older man's shoulder. "And look who's still kicking," Dorian added. "It's good to see you're both alive."

    Dorian wore the ghost of a smile, but it faded as his attention zeroed in on Atticus. "I don't know what happened. We were attacked. Why? I have no idea. By whom? By a floating mountain that fires beams of light that cut through metal like hot knives through butter." The captain shrugged sadly. "Beyond that, I just don't know. I'll get back to you, once things have calmed down and I've made some sense of it all. In the meantime, I need to find my Vice Captain and you two should get to medical…on second thought, just find someplace where you can stay out of the way and get your strength up. I'm sure the medical ward is awful right now."
     
  10. Keitsumah

    Keitsumah The Dream-Walker Contributor

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    "Arcanians. They were Arcanian." Vlad's words almost went unnoticed, quiet as they were. His eyes were glazed, replaying memories. "My mother showed me drawings of the castle. It's called Abricarida, the Storm Palace. It's supposed to be on a mountain overlooking Altamura, the Arcanian capitol. But that... that thing was only similar to it. It's architecture is the same, but something was vastly different about it. Instead of magic it had almost scientific weapons. Railguns. Missiles. I was burned by some sort of airborne chemical and tried to block the railgun before it was fired, thinking I was dead, but clearly that didn't work. And I am only alive because of Fey..."

    He looked down at his hands. At the small, pale stone that held no radiance compared to the electric charge he had felt just hours before. His eyes narrowed, and he looked up. The strategist in him took over. "Captain. How many able bodied men do we have? We need a proper shelter and food. I can't say whether the stores were all compromised. We also need a small scouting party to go out and figure out the lay of the land. Whether there are people here, or whether we are alone. The faster we learn about potential threats the better, so we can create a plan of defense long enough for the others who have survived, but are injured, to recover."

    He paused. "Maybe Fey can help us here... Give me a minute." he walked over to a burst pipe in the wall, leaking cold water onto the now-destroyed section of the greenhouse. She was a siren, so maybe if he touched water close enough by, she could sense him?

    Dipping his hand into the shallow pool, he focused on one word:

    Fey.
     
  11. Master Attano

    Master Attano Active Member

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    An awkward silence fell over the greenhouse, while Vlad stood with one hand wrist-deep in the cold water. When it became clear nothing was going to happen, Dorian slowly shook his head in disappointment.

    "I think your demon summoning skills could use some work," he said. "Now, if you're done playing around, the rest of us would like to-"

    "My, my, aren't we impatient..." Fey said as she entered the greenhoue, with Johnathon by her side. She approached the group of men with a sly smile on her face. "I would have come sooner, but the good doctor's not doing so well." She gave Johnathon a gentle pat on the shoulder before turning her attention to Vlad.

    "You are half-correct, dear. The castle is Arcanian. It's inhabitants are... well, that remains to be seen. All I know is, they were defending that city --they were defending Holdenheim-- and their technology trumps our own, yet they are in possession of powerful magic. They are the pinnacle of what Aeternians and Arcanians hope to become, masters of the universe." Fey shrugged. "Pardon me, I'm being grandiose again. Anyway, what is it you desire of me, Vladimir?"

    "Not a demon. Siren." Vlad corrected Dorian, then pulled his hand out of the water but didn't shake off the excess droplets, instead forgetting for a moment why he'd even called for her. "Ah... um," then his pale face flushed pink when he remembered. Idiot. "I guess I was right to assume you can sense others through water, and the soil here is soft, meaning there is water in the grass as well as the earth. I thought that maybe you could cast out your senses and be able to tell us what our surroundings are like through that, rather than us having to send out a scouting party. But if that takes energy..."

    He looked down at that moment, noting his hand was still wet, and carefully wiped it off on his shirt. His heart thudded painfully in his throat. For some reason he felt that all water was her whenever she was around, and he didn't want to cause her even the slightest discomfort by doing anything... harsh.

    "That would take more energy than I have at my disposal," Fey said. "And, besides, I think you overestimate my power. I have been bonded to the Feyfalken for over a year; that is why I can sense what goes on within this ship and any water in immediate contact with it. For example, I can sense most of what's going on within the lake: a few fishes, nothing worth writing home about. Beyond that, I am in the dark."

    "So, scouting party it is?" Dorian asked, to which she nodded.

    "I suggest starting with the village I saw in the distance, at the foot of the mountains," she said.

    Dorian frowned. "I saw it, too. It's at least a day's walk from here, and on the other side of a lake. I'd rather not make contact with anyone until we have a grasp on things here," he said, "but, yeah, it's not something I intend to ignore. I think I saw people down there."

    Atticus was muttering to himself as Dorian spoke. A fey, then. I'd never seen one but... they exist. They do.

    "
    Sir, I believe I may be of use in this expedition. This could also be an opportunity to discover more about this... mountain, which shot us."

    Johnathon had looked lost in thought up till this point, a deep frown on his face as he absentmindedly kneaded his worn beard, the black and grey hair singed in multiple places. At Atticus's words however his head snapped up. "Before we all go rushing off we must, as you say Captain, settle things here." he said, looking around the room. Making note with some happiness of Vlad's survival. "The crew is on the verge of collapse and the only thing holding it up is adrenaline and shock. Before they both fade they will need direction and if possible hope. They need to know that all is not lost." he said, looking at Dorian.

    "Yes, I know," Dorian said sadly. "I'm grateful this situation hasn't degraded into full-blown panic already, but if I face them without some tangible solution, I fear it will." He sighed. "Before I stand before these men and call myself their captain, I need to know what, if anything, we have left. Because, from where I stand, it does look like all is lost. I need to get in touch with someone from engineering and-"

    "No. You don't need an engineer," Fey said with a smile. "You need a mage. I think you should go see Integra. My dear sweet sister has discovered something very interesting." Dorian's brows wrinkled at the word 'sister,' to which Fey quickly added, "not literally, of course. Come, she's in her lab. Right this way, gentlemen," she said as she moved toward the stairs and gestured for them all to follow.
     
  12. Master Attano

    Master Attano Active Member

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    The captain supported Vladimir as he went, being careful not to trip over any debris. The condition of the Feyfalken was something that would take some getting used to. No amount of elbow grease and duct tape would bring her back to her former glory but, if he knew Integra --and Dorian liked to think he did-- this ship would fly again. He suspected that's what Fey was hinting at.

    He and the others followed the siren down to the residential deck and through the dark corridors. She strolled through the wreckage with a slight skip in her step, humming a tune to herself, as if this were her personal playground, like she didn't give a damn how many people had died here today.

    Oddly enough, Dorian almost began to feel same way. The sadness just fell away. It was the song. Something about it was making his worries melt away, clearing his mind of today's horrors. She was trying to take the pain away…

    "Stop it," he said under his breath, almost too low to be heard. He didn't want to forget what happened today; he didn't want to blissfully carry on, like everything was okay. Fey didn't turn to face him, but she glanced over her shoulder and their eyes met. It was just a glance, barely a fraction of a second long, but he knew she heard him. She looked forward again, without missing a step… and stopped humming that damned song.

    As they rounded a bend in the hall, they found Trixianne, the ship's quartermaster, standing outside the door of Integra's lab, pacing the floor, with a bundle of binders and papers clutched to her bosom. There were scratches and bruises on her bare arms and her head was heavily bandaged, with streaks of dried blood down the side of her temple. But, considering some of the things they'd seen today, she looked more normal than most. She looked up when the crowd of people came around the corner, led by the 'blue demon,' and gasped.

    "It's a long story," Dorian said, when Trixy's eyes fell on Fey. "Is Integra in there? I need to-"

    "I'm fine, by the way. Thanks for asking," Trixy snapped. "Yeah, she's in there, and if she doesn't open this damned door, I'm gonna be in there, too, with a shotgun!" She threw the stack of papers on the floor and gave the door a firm kick. "Can you believe she pulled me out of medical and told me to gather all this shit and bring it to her and now she won't even open the door? Has she lost her mind?"

    "That is a distinct possibility. The line between genius and insanity is remarkably thin," Fey said and Trixy gave her a sharp look, the sort of look that said 'I don't know what the hell you are, but you have five seconds to get away from me before I start swinging.'

    Dorian took that as his queue to intervene. He lightly cleared his throat and picked up some of the documents Trixy had unceremoniously dumped on the floor. "Cargo manifests?" he said, briefly perusing the pages.

    "Sorted by weight," Trixy added. "I think she's trying to lighten the ship… as if that'll make a difference. A dead bird's a dead bird. She also asked for some large batteries, but the cargo bay was a mess and half-flooded. She can get her own batteries… bitch." The last word was muttered under her breath. "And I think she's experimenting with-" the lights flickered to life for half a second, became incredibly bright, then went out again, "-electricity," Trixy said. "The lights on this level have been doing that for the last fifteen minutes."

    Dorian sighed and turned to Atticus. "You have a key to the labs, right?"
     
  13. AnonyMouse

    AnonyMouse Contributor Contributor

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    Atticus, who had just been watching the goings-on slightly bemused, sprang back to action.

    "Oh, yes," He rummaged in his pockets and found the key. "Damn," he muttered under his breath. The key had been more than slightly damaged in the crash. It was nicked and scratched and the grip had been twisted.

    "It's bent, but it should still work," said Atticus as he handed the key to Dorian.

    “That’ll do,” Dorian said as he accepted it, inserted it into the lock, and turned. The heavy steel door groaned as the seals and locking mechanisms shifted. Soon, they were inside.

    Dorian had only seen Integra’s laboratory a handful of times, but he remembered it always being spotless. Despite the amount of time she spent there, it never looked as if any work was done. The floors and countertops were polished to a high shine, not a single speck of dust could be found on anything, and any equipment that wasn’t currently in use had a cloth tarp draped over it.

    Well, not today. As Dorian and the others entered, Integra was in the middle of tying a thick rope around a bundle of… stuff. It looked as if she’d gathered anything heavy she could find and lashed it all together: desks, chairs, industrial equipment, chunks of debris, broken pipes, and furniture.

    It took them a moment to realize this ‘stuff’ wasn’t just sitting on the floor: it was on a sheet of metal, which was sitting atop a giant scale. According to the scale, the whole bundle weighed about as much as a small car.

    “What are you doing?” Dorian asked, thoroughly confused.

    Integra didn’t look up from her work. She was wild-eyed, with her hair all over her head in messy strands. “Testing a theory,” she said as she added a chair to the pile and looped the rope around it before making a knot and pulling it tightly. “Where’s Miss Trayburn with my batteries? I need more power.”

    Trixy stepped forward with her fists balled. “I didn’t bring your batteries, you crazy bi-“

    Dorian quickly stepped between her and the vice captain. “Integra, no one is going to bring you anything until you explain what’s going on here,” he said. “What is all this and why are you-”

    “Fine, I’ll do it myself, then,” the vice captain said as she rolled up her sleeves, but Dorian took her by the wrists and forced her to look at him. He felt something crackle beneath his grip, like a spark of static electricity. It made the hairs on his arms stand on end. She was electrically-charged…

    Did she do that on purpose? He thought. Is that what she meant by ‘I’ll do it myself?’ She can make her own electricity… by using magic.

    Integra sighed and relaxed. “That mountain is made of levitite,” she said calmly. “That’s my theory.”

    “That sounds more like a wild guess than a theory,” Dorian said.

    “It looks almost exactly like Abricarida, the Storm Palace,” she said. “Everyone knows the mountains around Altamura are rich in levitite ore.”

    “We already covered that,” Dorian said, with a nod to Vladimir. “And everyone knows levitite isn’t lighter than air until it’s refined into its metallic form, levitanium. C’mon, Reina, are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

    “That mountain was riding on a black cloud with forks of lightning shooting out the bottom of it,” Reina said. “I think the entire mountain was electrified and what I saw was the excess discharge, using the skyscrapers and streets to ground itself. I think…” She paused a moment, as if unsure of herself. “I think levitite’s natural properties can be improved by running a current through it.” She pointed to the pile of stuff she’d created. “I’ve weighed down this sheet of levitanium. A sheet this size shouldn’t be able to lift more than a hundred pounds or so; there’s now ten times that much weight resting on it. All I need is a power supply. If this doesn’t work, then you can call me crazy. But if it does work, we may have just stumbled upon a way to make this ship fly again, without using primitive balloons and hot air.”

    “You’re grasping at straws,” Dorian said. Her theory had almost nothing to support it. Then again, what else could they do?

    Vlad watched the Captain and vice captain bicker, but his focus was on the levitanium sheet. Crazy as it sounded, he believed it just might work. Magic had turned him into a dragon, so electricity could just as easily make an entire mountain float, right?

    He stepped forward. "Isn't electricity a condensed from of flame in a sense? I'm no scientist, but both cause a change in the energy amount in the stone. We should try it at least. It's... not like anything worse can happen to us than what has already occurred. Right?" For once, his gaze was clearer. His focus diverted from his failure. He may have failed, but if they could do this, he might be able to help everyone. Might be able to get them back on their feet.

    "That's not true." Johnathon said, glancing at Vlad. "We could all be dead right now. This theory sounds like a good one judging from the flying fortress, but it's still just a theory." Turning to the rest of the group he continued. "What we know right now is theFeyfalken is in desperate need of repairs, no matter what miracle we come up with, and the crew, leaders. All of whom are hidden away down here out of sight."

    “I didn’t ask you to come down here,” Integra said, more than a little sharply.

    "No you didn't." he replied. "But I'm down here now so I might as well see this through."

    Atticus pondered this theory.

    "Excluding gravity... For this mountain to not be bound by the planet's pull, it would have to have a pull of it's own... Must be one dense mountain. Any ideas what it could contain?"

    “A buttload of things that want to kill us,” Dorian muttered under his breath. He paused, sighed, and switched to a slightly less cynical tone. “Look, we can stand around theorizing this and that, but, when all is said and done, this ‘theory’ either works or it doesn’t. If it does, congratulations, you’ve just discovered a way to make an airship fly without putting giant balloons on top.” He glanced at Johnathon: “that would cut our repair time in half and make the Feyfalken more maneuverable than it was before… we might even be agile enough to outfox that flying fortress if it shows up again.”

    “It will show up again,” Fey said, with a sinister glint in her eye. "And that is why repairing this ship to specs is a fools' errand. If we rebuild it, we must rebuild it better... or we will die." She smiled and gave Johnathon a friendly pat on the back as she spoke in a soothing tone: “Enough talk. Excluding myself, there are three mages in this room. Two can conjure lightning at will, but only one seems to have a natural affinity for it.” She gestured to the sheet of levitanium. “Light ‘er up, Jon Jon.”

    Vlad had been irked slightly by Johnathan's remark, but backed off and went to lean against a wall. The back of his neck itched, and when he went to scratch at it the irritation only grew. Now that he noticed it, not only did it seem familiar, but it seemed to be filling him at a rate nearly ten times faster than before, when it had taken months to accumulate.

    His gaze focused on the levitaniaum sheet. Theory my ass...
    Without warning, like a battery overcharged, there was a deafening bang underneath the levitanium and white lightning raced out and over the sheet. Without coming into direct contact with the metal it was anybody's guess as to who the electricity had come from, and Vlad knew that they would likely assume that it was Jon who did it.

    Still, he glanced over at Fey in that moment and rubbed at one eye. An eye that was bordered by scales before they faded away.

    Johnathon flinched, his protest dying in his throat as a concentrated wave of energy rushed past him, his skin tingling and buzzing in response. Snapping his head in the direction the energy had come from, his eyes lingering on Vlad for a moment before he quickly looked back to the bench.

    The pile began to rise, slowly at first, then with increasing speed. Arcing tendrils of electricity forked between it and the floor, like a miniature thunderstorm beneath a metal cloud. With no one controlling the output, the voltage continued to spike until the assorted debris hit the ceiling. It was still trying to rise, grating against the light fixtures and ceiling tiles, until the electricity dissipated. It hovered there for a few tense seconds before beginning to descend and, finally, slamming to the floor with a loud crash.

    "Well done, Jon!" Fey said as she looped her arms around the doctor and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. He did not seem to notice her wink at Vlad before doing so.

    “I told you it would work,” Integra said dryly. “Now, if you all would be so kind as to exit my laboratory, so I can replicate and quantify the results…”

    “That can wait,” Dorian said. “I need to address the crew. Now that we know this works, it’s time to get started on repairs and put together a scouting party. Everyone who’s not dead or dying needs something to do, if only to take their minds off of what has happened today.”

    Vlad nodded. "I will lead it. The crew needs to know that as head of security, I am not something that simply runs around in confusion like a chicken with its head cut off after a major incident, even if I was not needed overly much during calmer times." his voice was deeper, commanding even. Some sense of aggression had begun to swell in Vlad, and the memory of the beast he had been snarled. If anything would try to hurt those he was assigned to protect again, he would be sure to rip their throats out first.

    The first to move Johnathon made for the exit, scowling as he rubbed his cheek. His destination undoubtedly Medical.
     
  14. Mottahko

    Mottahko Active Member

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    Relishing in the wind that whipped around past him, Daryn tried to spot any smoke coming up from the valley. He had been on his way out into the Waste when he had seen the wounded ship materialize out of thin air.

    He had immediately turned around. It was rare for an airship wreck to be found. He was excited at the possibility of upgrading his small airship. Maybe even mount a weapon on it. Most stuff he brought back he sold or was appropiated. But if he claimed that wreck that close to home he might get up keep some fun stuff.

    With a hand full of rope, Daryn piled the speed on with a twist, turning his sail so he was running before the wind.

    With the wind keeping it's course he made it back to the valley entrance in less than an hour. Tacking down his line, he unslung his long rifle and peered through the scope. He saw the downed ship by the lake.

    As he got closer he checked again. He could see a lot of movement. It looked like a lot of the crew survived. It was a big ship too. Rethinking running all the way to the wreck, he loosed his line and turned hard to port, swinging towards the mountain on the side of the valley, he'd go around the edge of the jungle and make a slower approach. Daryn's excitement grew. This could be a third wave. It certainly seemed there were plenty of survivors from this one.
     
  15. Fan7asticMrFox

    Fan7asticMrFox Contributor Contributor

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    It was a gorgeously warm evening in that valley, the sun slowly setting behind the snow dropped mountain and Tessa, her legs playfully swishing in the lake, stared out entranced. The landscape stretched far past the clearing and into the pine forest, sweeping upwards towards the rocky cliff face, all of it covered in melted gold. The gentle breeze danced between the treeline, drawing invisible lines in the leaves and Tessa’s eyes followed the wind up into the sky.

    She was met with a canvas slowly turning violet and with every passing moment a new star emerged above her. It left Tessa with an odd sense of comfort, of how similar this place was to the southern jungles of Arcania, her home. Yet nothing quite compared to the majesty of those jungles, the beauty and danger they beheld, the feeling of freedom she had skating along the winding rivers in her one man airship, the Phoenix. But as she looked up to the stars, those jungles felt worlds away.

    Pain dragged Tessa away from her thoughts. The throbbing in her hand had returned. She looked down to see sickening burns on her left palm; the skin had turned angry with white boiled blisters dotted all over. But what filled her with dread the most was right in the middle. There was a crack in her skin, the kind you see when the ground breaks apart in an earthquake. There was a crack in her skin and it was glowing red. Blood red. Like the beams of the flying fortress.

    It was strange to think that the attack had happened only hours before. Tessa was still confined to her cell in the med bay, curled up to her knees in the corner and hopelessly bleak on the future. How could she attack the Captain; how could she attack Dorian? And yet, how dare he stand in her way in her single chance of redemption – she could feel the spirits all waiting within the floating city, they had been so close. Tessa rocked back and forth in the thought of what she had lost. Perhaps she would never find them. She would never save them.

    Suddenly the room dived. Tessa jolted from the corner and landed hard across the cold steel floor. Outside in the med bay she could hear incoherent shouts before a hushed silence. The Feyfalken rose and lurched, ominously creaking under the strain. All held their breath.

    A dreadful whistling filled the air and the screams returned, the ship shuddered and Tessa was sent flying back into her corner with a harsh bang on the back. Flashes of dazzling red shone from the under the med bay door and she shut her eyes closed in fear. She had no idea what was happening out there and she didn’t want to know, the ear piercing screams were enough to realise they weren’t going to survive.

    Tessa hugged herself tighter and rocked faster, humming to drown out the noise. But more whistling erupted through the air and under her closed eyes red glowing light illuminated. She hummed louder and rocked even more, however it could not lessen the screams of agony on board. Her actions – her foolishness had doomed another crew. She wanted to disappear from here, awake as if it were just a bad dream, just another nightmare. She had had so many of them on board this ship, all of them real.

    The next whistling she heard was louder. Much louder. Tessa opened her eyes to the blinding light in her room, a wall of red laser where the med bay door had once been. The beam sliced inches away from her tucked in feet and as it past she could feel the scorching heat prickling at her skin. And then, in an instant it was gone.

    A deafening ringing was left in her ear, but at least she could no longer hear the screams. There was a huge gap between Tessa and the rest of the ship now, the cut steel edges burning bright orange. And then suddenly, she felt a lurch. The gap was widening. The floor felt unsteady. Under the screeching sounds of twisted metal her side of the ship was coming away, falling away into the cloudy abyss below. The harsh wind thundered through the room, forcing the gap even wider. Panic made her stay too long, just staring down at the burning gap. It was metres wide now.

    The metal gave one last stomach-turning lurch and then there was an almighty snap. Instinct took hold and Tessa bolted, her side falling away and down into the nether below, and she flew through the air towards the ship. Limbs outstretched Tessa willed herself to reach the ship, but her eyes grew wide in the realisation that she wasn’t going to make it…

    She fell out of sight of the med bay, down through the air and it was only the last-ditch grasp of her left hand that saved her. It clawed onto the edge and Tessa swung wildly in the wind, screaming in agony but refusing to let go. Her teary eyes gazed up to see the red hot steel ledge gripped underneath her palm. But she couldn’t let go, she had to keep going. With her scorched hand Tessa used all her strength to pull up and rolled with speed onto the cold steel floor of the ship. Never had she been quite so happy to be in so much pain.

    She washed her hand in the lake, swaying it through the cool waters to calm it. The sunlight glittered across the surface, the fish underneath shimmering like diamonds and Tessa couldn’t quite believe she was sitting there. Behind her the fiery wreckage of the Feyfalken sizzled and burned, while crew members raced to fight the blaze and attend to the wounded. Somehow they had survived.

    She had to find out why. There were energies here, strangely she could sense them. The mountain was teaming with power. Stepping out of the lake Tessa wrapped her palm in bandages to conceal the glowing red scar and she stared at the cargo that had been assembled in the clearing. That was her plan. Steal the equipment she needed and venture up the mountain.
     
  16. AnonyMouse

    AnonyMouse Contributor Contributor

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    The death toll rose to sixty by the time things calmed down. Forty two were dead by the time the ship hit the ground and eighteen more either succumbed to injuries or were missing. When the dust finally settled and the injured and wounded were stabilized, Dorian found himself captaining a ship whose crew had been cut in half. 120 left Holdenheim. 60 remained.

    With a heavy heart, he gathered everyone outside, where the bodies were lined up under black tarps. Dorian could've had everyone meet on the other side of the hip, out of view of the corpses, but he chose not to. They would never move on unless they accepted what happened today and that meant looking death in the face.

    We are the survivors, he reminded himself, and I intend to keep it that way.

    His injured shoulder was heavily bandaged, but he had covered it with a fresh shirt and his captain's coat, which he'd retrieved from Fey. She was a little too eager to give it up and stroll around in the buff, but he quickly gave her a uniform. "If you're going to be a part of this crew, you're going to dress like one," Dorian warned her.

    That had been nearly an hour ago. Now, he was standing atop a crate, with sixty poor souls in front of him, a wrecked ship behind him, his vice captain to his right, and a horny siren to his left. What more could go wrong?

    “Okay, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, stepping forward to address the crowd. “This is the part where your captain is supposed to give a big motivational speech. You know, the stuff about how we’re strong and tough and will stand together, etcetera, etcetera. I’m supposed to tell you how we’re down, but we’re not out and how the sky’s the limit and we can do anything if we set our minds to it.

    “Well, I’m not going to do that,” he said. “Because I’m not the sort of captain who would lie to you. I’m not the sort of guy who would stoke the fires of your souls with bullshit. You all deserve better; you deserve the truth, so here it is…” Dorian took a deep breath and looked into the eyes of each and every person before him as he finally said what they all knew to be true: “The truth is magic is real.”

    He found courage in the silence that followed. If he thought this ‘discovery’ would blow their minds, he was sorely mistaken. These people were born and bred in a nation that prided itself on unequivocally denying the existence of anything remotely supernatural, paranormal, or pseudoscientific. Had he uttered these words back home, in Holdenheim, he would’ve been laughed off the stage, fitted for a dunce cap, and given a stern talking to by many of his so-called friends.

    The fact that this declaration landed without a resounding crash was proof that the journey had changed them… perhaps to such a degree that ‘home’ would never be the same again.

    “We are strangers in a strange land,” Dorian went on to say. “We are not the same as we were when we left home. We’ve seen things… things our friends and families and loved ones need to know are real. Things that need to be dragged out into the light of day, not kept as a mystery or…” his gaze flickered to Fey “…locked away in the deepest, darkest holes imaginable. As scientists, it is our duty to carry this knowledge home with us. As human beings, it is our duty to survive. I will not die here and neither will any of you. If that’s what the Design has for us, today, we rewrite the Design.”

    Hmmm… this speech is beginning to sound awfully motivational, Dorian thought. So much for keeping it simple.

    He stepped back and shoved Integra forward. “My vice captain will take it from here,” Dorian said. “Miss Lancaster, show them the way home.”

    Integra stood frozen for a moment before she adjusted her glasses and stared into the crowd. “We will split into two groups,” she declared, getting right down to business. “Half of the crew will remain here to focus on repairing the Feyfalken. I have new plans for this ship and I will need your help in making them a reality. We need to shed approximately 110 tons of weight and a complete reworking of the electrical grid is necessary, on top of needed repairs to the engines and airframe and-” Fey nudged her and Integra realized she was going off into cuckoo land.

    “Ahem,” Integra cleared her throat and shifted gears, “The other half of the crew will scout ahead to the village we saw from the air. Our newest crewmate,” she gestured to Fey, “suspects there may be others there who have encountered the entity we know as ‘The Black Fortress.’ It is in our best interest to gather any and all intelligence on the subject, since this enemy undoubtedly stands between us and our homeland. Knowledge is our greatest weapon. For the time being, it may be our only weapon.”

    “Well, you heard the lady,” Dorian said. “Engineering personnel, remain here with the Vice Captain. She’ll provide further instructions. Security personnel and anyone with tracking experience, come with me. Everyone else, pick a side, we’re playing it by ear from here on. Any questions?”
     
  17. Love to Write

    Love to Write I'm a lover of writing. What else is to be said? Contributor

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    “Well, you heard the lady,” Dorian said. “Engineering personnel, remain here with the Vice Captain. She’ll provide further instructions. Security personnel and anyone with tracking experience, come with me. Everyone else, pick a side, we’re playing it by ear from here on. Any questions?”

    Exploring or building? Exploring or building? Exploring...that was a no brainier. No way she was gonna hang out with Ms. Crazy and bang on things with a wrench. This was one of the few times she was gonna get a chance to look for evidence of what she'd come for. She broke off from the rest of the group, wincing as a sharp pain once again shot through her head. Amazing I didn't break anything during that wonderful one-sided attack... She thought sarcastically. Two weapon's crates sat a little ways from the downed ship. They'd been the only weapons she'd managed to salvage before the "oh-so-inspiring speech."

    Pistol, knife, rifle, she managed to find places on her body for each one. The knife she slipped in her bodice, the pistol she tucked in the waistband of her pants and the rifle she let rest on her back with the strap running diagonally across her front. She was ready for war and was determined to make sure the rest of the Exploring team was ready as well.
    "Hey Cap." She called out. "Got weapons over here by me and more in the wreckage. Send all the explorers to me and I'll make sure they get a weapon they won't shoot themselves in the foot with."
     
  18. Keitsumah

    Keitsumah The Dream-Walker Contributor

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    Vlad nodded in agreement to Dorian's words, though something dark lingered in his eyes when the Black Fortress was mentioned. But now was not the time to focus on revenge Now he should focus on scouting out the area around them.

    He glanced at the sky, and the itch prickled at his spine again. He closed his eyes and focused on the irritation until it ebbed to a less distracting state. They had always been high above the ground -able to judge from a distance. Maybe if he could fly again like he had before they could cover more ground that way.

    But he shook his head. The crew was already rattled enough and he didn't know if any of his wild speculations would work. So he strode in Trixy's direction to get equipped, waving the few members of his guard left to follow. Out of the twenty he had started with, now only ten remained, not including any of the other guards hired to protect the ship like Sabre. The Black Forest Incident and now the Black Fortress had left them all scrambling to cover shifts, but at the moment they had no plan. They merely followed Vladimir, awaiting orders.

    When he came to a stop a few feet away from the woman Vlad nodded in the direction of his men. "Think you can provide both close range and long range weaponry? We don't want a repeat of the Black Forest Incident and those swords will come in handy for other things."
     
  19. Moonbeast32

    Moonbeast32 Member

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    As the doctor approached, his coat splattered in blood and whirling around him, Luceen stood to face him.
    "What do you think you're doing to these patent's?" the Doctor demanded again, glancing down at the women before looking back at him. "Who are you?"
    Luceen turned to face the man. As he did so, he tried his best to wear the same look of shocked despair that most of the other crew had on their faces as of late. "Name's luceen, sir." He looked down at the dying woman "I-i came to see her, sir."

    "So you know this women?" the doctor said, his hard look not disappearing as he stared at him.
    "Yes, she's a good friend of mine. I came to check her wellbeing." Luceen returned the look, just as hard. He was beginning to lose his nerve. "Shouldn't you be taking care of the other patients?" Even as he said it, Luceen cursed himself for such a stupid response.

    The doctor's eyes narrowed. "A good friend you say?" he mused, ignoring Luceen's comment. "Was the man a good friend of yours too?" he asked pointedly.
    Luceen suspected the question was a trap. "Yes sir, I like to consider everyone on this ship a friend of mine." Luceen turned to go. "So as you can imagine, I've got a lot more friends I'd like to check up on, so if you'll excuse me..." Just as he headed for the door, the doctor caught his arm.
    "Listen to me." he growled. "I don't know who your are, or what you were doing to my patents but if I see you back here again I'll have you arrested. You understand?"

    Luceen glared at the doctor as he tore away his arm and headed out the door. As soon as he was out, Luceen let out a long sigh. He had never been that close to being caught before. I must have hit my head harder than I thought. What was I thinking!?
     
  20. Love to Write

    Love to Write I'm a lover of writing. What else is to be said? Contributor

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    When he came to a stop a few feet away from the woman, Vlad nodded in the direction of his men. "Think you can provide both close range and long range weaponry? We don't want a repeat of the Black Forest Incident and those swords will come in handy for other things."

    "Well, the foot lockers I managed to rescue have plenty of rifles but limited swords. If you want more, your men are going to have to dig them out of the rubble." Trixy said, stroking her fingertips across the rose tattoo on her collarbone. The bandages on her head itched like crazy. She'd have been tempted to tear them off, if it weren't for the large cut on her forehead. Dang thing would probably leave a scar. She cocked a hip and crossed her arms. "You look relatively unscathed there, Vlad. How'd you manage that?" A seductive smile resting on her lips. She was well aware of the crazy rumor going around that he's turned into a dragon and fell out of the ship. Though it seemed crazy, she knew every rumor and legend had some truth behind it.
     
  21. Mike Nemesis

    Mike Nemesis Active Member

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    Sabre had intended to go follow Atticus, Vlad & Dorian on their hunt for Integra but he'd found himself overcome by a wave of nausea. He hung back as they headed off and once they were out of sight he fumbled his way down the corridor till he came to a part torn open by the lasers. There he bent over and heaved up his last canteen meal watching it drip outside and spitting the remaining foul taste after it. He allowed himself to sit down and leaned precariously against the wall unphased by the fact it dropped off to the outside.

    He should of heeded the Doctors words. Only a short time ago he had promised himself he wouldn't push himself as hard and here he was demonstrating to himself that he clearly hadn't learnt from his previous lesson. But now he knew that Vlad was ok and that Dorian seemed to have some form of control over the situation. His mind could rest slightly easier than it had in the medbay. Everything had still gone to hell but someone else was dealing with it. They hadn't noticed the fact he hadn't followed them. They didn't need him right now, he could rest. His eyelids felt heavy and he felt his body drifting to the side as he slipped into a slumber...
     
  22. Keitsumah

    Keitsumah The Dream-Walker Contributor

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    Vlad shrugged, then waved for the guards to gather what they could. As for himself, he grabbed a small revolver and a pair of daggers that lay to one side. "Unscathed? Try being burned alive and then be brought back by a Siren." His words may have been taken as a joke, but one glance at his expression quickly silenced any notion of that.

    He turned away and stared off in the distance, judging whether or not trying to transform again would be a good idea. He didn't even know if he could replicate something like that again. The daggers spun almost effortlessly between his fingers as he tested their weights, reach, and edge. "I don't know what happened." he muttered. "I guess i just panicked. Or was pissed off to no end. Maybe both. I only remember flying around the city and trying to stop them. If i had just hit that missile battery it may have set off a chain reaction..."

    "But I didn't. I didn't, and now we're here. I was burned alive by chemicals and Fey brought me back from the brink. And the next time I see that Fortress I'm going to tear it from the sky itself, or at least do so much damage that it'll leave something for them to remember me by." his words were grim, low, and he clenched his hands around the grip of each dagger. His skin seemed to harden, then the subtle pattern of scales could be glimpsed. A beast, hidden all this time...

    But what is the real monster? His grip relaxed and the scales vanished. For all the world he seemed perfectly human again.

    A smile touched his lips as the gears began to turn. Humanity is.
     
  23. AnonyMouse

    AnonyMouse Contributor Contributor

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    "Impressive creatures, aren't they?" Fey whispered into Dorian's ear as they watched the crew begin to branch into groups. Integra disappeared inside the ship with a large cluster of engineers following behind her, presumably to begin walking them through her newly drafted blueprints for the Feyfalken. Others were gathered around Trixy's weapon chests, talking amongst themselves and gearing up for the expedition.

    "Back up," Dorian said, taking a slight step away from Fey. "I don't like it when you stand too close and I certainly don't like it when you call us 'creatures.'"

    The siren shrugged and stifled a small giggle. "Others of my kind would call you 'meat.' Consider yourself fortunate I like to play with my food." Dorian's face shifted to one of horror. "Oh, I'm kidding. Lighten up," she said, giving him a slap on the back. "What do you think I am, some kind of ravenous beast?"

    "Ummm, yeah, that's exactly what I think."

    Fey frowned. "Well, I admire your honesty, captain. And did I mention you look absolutely dashing with your pistol and rapier? Like a true swashbuckling hero. Oh, my heart is aflutter! Will you catch me if I swoon?"

    Dorian sighed and hopped down from the crate upon which they'd been standing. "I'd feel a lot better if you didn't do that," he said.

    "Do what, dear?" she said, following uncomfortably close behind him.

    "That thing you always do."

    "What thing?"

    Dorian turned to face her. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

    She stared blankly at him, with a hand on her hip, where a pistol and rapier made of ice had magically materialized when he wasn't looking. "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery," she said, batting her eyelashes. "How do I look? We're going to have soooo much fun together."

    "You were a lot more bearable when you were latched onto Vlad or Jon," Dorian said.

    "I'm an equal opportunity latcher. Everyone gets a turn."

    Dorian decided to simply ignore her, the same way he ignored anyone who so blatantly craved attention. He stepped up to where the others were collecting gear and weapons from Trixy.

    "If everyone's ready, I think it's time we headed out," he said, raising his voice above the murmurs and doubts of the crewmen. "With the ship half-buried in the muck, we won't be able to fetch any vehicles from the cargo bay, so we're going on foot. I'd say that village is about… two… maybe three hours' travel, but we've got to get around this lake first. That'll be quite a hike by itself."

    "Why go around when we can go straight across," Fey said from a distance. Dorian turned to see her standing at the water's edge, with a couple of rowboats, made of ice.

    "Cute, but literally freezing our asses off isn't my idea of a good time," Dorian said, dismissively, before returning his attention to the crew. "Anyway, we'll hike around the north shore and-"

    "I think we should put it to a vote," Fey said. "Everyone who wants to take a boat, raise your hand." her hand quickly shot up. "C'mon, get 'em up there, guys. I know you want to."

    Dorian sighed. This was going to be a very long day indeed.
     
  24. Keitsumah

    Keitsumah The Dream-Walker Contributor

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    Vlad glanced at Fey and Dorian in amusement. But when the distance of their travel was mentioned, he frowned.

    "Why walk or freeze when you can fly?" his mouth shut abruptly when he'd realized he'd said that and grit his teeth when several of the others glanced at him. Well I was the one who suggested it... let's see if I can back it up.

    He turned and walked away from the group until he was a good twenty yards away. Satisfied that he wouldn't hurt anyone with a good bit of distance, he unbuckled the belt around his waist and tied the two daggers and revolver to one end. He laid that on the ground for later, then considered his clothes.

    Well I'll worry about that later. With that, he stepped back a pace and clutched the pin in both hands, then pressed his thumbs to his forehead in a position that somewhat mimicked prayer.

    The energy trapped within his body had been calm, still like a lake. When he tapped into it it rippled, casting smaller, and then gradually bigger, waves over his nerves. He dabbled at the waters, built up the waves until they lapped at his feet, then his knees, all the way to his chest. Then when the power grew strong enough, it slammed into him and swept him into it's electric embrace.

    The others heard a deep, thundering growl, and then Vladimir doubled over. Stretched one clawed hand out and sank it into the earth. Then the other. His shoulders and chest swelled, and his neck extended along with his face, as well as a tail. As he transformed, scales and a mane rippled out over his body. Crimson fur as red as blood. Scales as white as snow. His vision changed -blues and reds became more dominant while others faded to varying shades of grey. His heart pounded in his eardrums and Vlad growled again, shaking the earth as he grew, and grew, and grew until his length and wingspan rivaled that of three horse-drawn carriages.

    The energy in his body gradually calmed around him as he grappled for control, and the beast within opened one blood-red eye.

    The entire process of his transformation took at least half a minute, but compared to the nature of his transformation before, the timing between had been halved. Vlad raised his head and padded the three large steps it took to get back to the group, picking up his belt, dagger, and revolver in the process with his jaws.

    When he stopped he was a few feet away from Dorian. Where Vlad had been roughly the same height as the captain before, he now more than tripled.
     
  25. Love to Write

    Love to Write I'm a lover of writing. What else is to be said? Contributor

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    "Now that..." Trixy said pointing at Vlad the Dragon, an amused smile on her lips. "That's gonna be useful. Weird sh**. But useful. Don't think you can carry all of us there though, Vlad. Some are still gonna have to walk or take the Ice Queen's boats."
     

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