Red Sands (Closed, IC)

[Daakjenaar]

4 hours ago, EscortAlpha said:

Several strikes scored deep, smoking wounds the the frost's limbs.
Svytoj continued to parry Tarnas's attacks.
Suddenly, Svytoj rocketed upward as he sent another hail of grakata rounds and frozen void energy flying towards Tarnas's position.

Tarnas cloaked himself, moving out of range. He positioned himself behind Svytoj, and prepared to attack again.

"Tycho, activate the Formorian's artificial gravity generator for a moment." Said Tarnas. Suddenly, the gravity in the room increases by a few Gs.

[EscortAlpha]

2 hours ago, Daakjenaar said:

Tarnas cloaked himself, moving out of range. He positioned himself behind Svytoj, and prepared to attack again.

"Tycho, activate the Formorian's artificial gravity generator for a moment." Said Tarnas. Suddenly, the gravity in the room increases by a few Gs.

Svytoj was quickly pulled from the air, tumbling backwards, and landing on the ground hard enough to send a dense column of dust into the air.

When the dust settled, the silhouette of a frost could be seen laying on the the floor of the Fomorian, flat on its back.

Edited March 21, 2017 by EscortAlpha

[Daakjenaar]

13 minutes ago, EscortAlpha said:

Svytoj was quickly pulled from the air, tumbling backwards, and landing on the ground hard enough to send a dense column of dust into the air.

When the dust settled, the silhouette of a frost could be seen laying on the the floor of the Fomorian, flat on its back.

The gravity returned to normal a moment later. As it did so, Tarnas decloaked, looking down at Svytoj. He drew his heat sword, stabbing at Svytoj's chest.

[EscortAlpha]

2 minutes ago, Daakjenaar said:

The gravity returned to normal a moment later. As it did so, Tarnas decloaked, looking down at Svytoj. He drew his heat sword, stabbing at Svytoj's chest.

As the blade sunk into the frost's chest, A massive blast of of icey spikes errupted from the abdominal cavity, the ones closest to the blade turning to a scalding steam that fogged Tarnas's visor as the rest knocked him into the air as they embedded into him.
From what could be seen, none of those spikes contained any dark fluid.

[Daakjenaar]

2 minutes ago, EscortAlpha said:

As the blade sunk into the frost's chest, A massive blast of of icey spikes errupted from the abdominal cavity, the ones closest to the blade turning to a scalding steam that fogged Tarnas's visor as the rest knocked him into the air as they embedded into him.
From what could be seen, none of those spikes contained any dark fluid.

Tarnas was knocked back, and had a few icicles in his torso. They had missed his vital organs, so he ignored them for the time being, and walked back over to Svytoj, pulling out his heat sword and stabbing it into where the heart would normally be.

[EscortAlpha]

12 minutes ago, Daakjenaar said:

Tarnas was knocked back, and had a few icicles in his torso. They had missed his vital organs, so he ignored them for the time being, and walked back over to Svytoj, pulling out his heat sword and stabbing it into where the heart would normally be.

The blade passed through the chest cavity with relative ease.
Then the front of the frost unfurled.
A large, metallic blue hand erupted from the back to the frost's body cavity, passing through the obviously empty torso, and grabbed onto Tarnas's sword hand as it burst from the Warframe.
Through a hole in the back of the Frost, Svytoj's sickening grin could be seen as he tried to pull Tarnas into the open chest cavity, the barrel of grakata looming from under the frost as Svytoj fired.

((John Carpenter, eat your heart out.))

[Daakjenaar]

2 minutes ago, EscortAlpha said:

The blade passed through the chest cavity with relative ease.
Then the front of the frost unfurled.
A large, metallic blue hand erupted from the back to the frost's body cavity, passing through the obviously empty torso, and grabbed onto Tarnas's sword hand as it burst from the Warframe.
Through a hole in the back of the Frost, Svytoj's sickening grin could be seen as he tried to pull Tarnas into the open chest cavity, the barrel of grakata looming from under the frost as Svytoj fired.

((John Carpenter, eat your heart out.))

Tarnas made a decoy on the opposite side of the room, and switch teleported with it. A moment later, he grabbed a Magnus pistol he had places there earlier and started firing at Svytoj.

"Just die already!"

[EscortAlpha]

14 minutes ago, Daakjenaar said:

Tarnas made a decoy on the opposite side of the room, and switch teleported with it. A moment later, he grabbed a Magnus pistol he had places there earlier and started firing at Svytoj.

"Just die already!"

 

Svytoj resumed control of his frost as he emerged from the hole he had made in the ships floor, rounds pinging of his shields as he stood.
As Tarnas fired, he parried the shots with his redeemer, the rounds ricocheting all over the ship..

" B͟R̴I͝NG ̕IT, ͜K͏ID! ̴I͘ ̡C̷A͘N̢ D͢O TH̢I͞S ͢ALL̀ ͜YE͘AR!͞ "

Edited March 21, 2017 by EscortAlpha

[Daakjenaar]

2 minutes ago, EscortAlpha said:

((Option Two))

Svytoj resumed control of his frost as he emerged from the hole he had made in the ships floor, rounds pinging of his shields as he stood.
As Tarnas fired, he parried the shots with his redeemer, the rounds ricocheting all over the ship..

" B͟R̴I͝NG ̕IT, ͜K͏ID! ̴I͘ ̡C̷A͘N̢ D͢O TH̢I͞S ͢ALL̀ ͜YE͘AR!͞ "

"Why do you call me "Kid"? I've survived ordeals you couldn't possibly imagine." Said Tarnas. He kept firing, hoping a few shots would hit before Svytoj was in melee range. He held his heat sword in his left hand, ready to block when Svytoj got closer.

[EscortAlpha]

1 minute ago, Daakjenaar said:

"Why do you call me "Kid"? I've survived ordeals you couldn't possibly imagine." Said Tarnas. He kept firing, hoping a few shots would hit before Svytoj was in melee range. He held his heat sword in his left hand, ready to block when Svytoj got closer.

Svytoj parried several shots as several more slammed into his shields and armor. He rolled and dove erratically as he let off several rounds from his redeemer, making his way towards Tarnas with each blast.
As he got closer, he switched to his rifle. Several rounds passed dangerously close to Tarnas's head, their viral content creeping around the holes left in the wall.

[Daakjenaar]

1 minute ago, EscortAlpha said:

Svytoj parried several shots as several more slammed into his shields and armor. He rolled and dove erratically as he let off several rounds from his redeemer, making his way towards Tarnas with each blast.
As he got closer, he switched to his rifle. Several rounds passed dangerously close to Tarnas's head, their viral content creeping around the holes left in the wall.

Tarnas ducked, rolling out of the way before unequipping the Magnus. He held his heat sword,standing in a defensive stance, and strafing to avoid the Soma.

[EscortAlpha]

2 minutes ago, Daakjenaar said:

Tarnas ducked, rolling out of the way before unequipping the Magnus. He held his heat sword,standing in a defensive stance, and strafing to avoid the Soma.

Svytoj began aiming for the heat sword, the infectious content of his rounds clinging to the molten slag as it splattered off the blade in all directions.
The rounds of the soma wasn't the only problem to be faced, as Svytoj also sent a wave of jagged ice towards Tarnas.

[Daakjenaar]

3 minutes ago, EscortAlpha said:

Svytoj began aiming for the heat sword, the infectious content of his rounds clinging to the molten slag as it splattered off the blade in all directions.
The rounds of the soma wasn't the only problem to be faced, as Svytoj also sent a wave of jagged ice towards Tarnas.

Tarnas dodged the ice with ease, and quickly cloaked himself to avoid the Soma. He was clearly shifting into a more hit-and-run tactic.

[EscortAlpha]

Just now, Daakjenaar said:

Tarnas dodged the ice with ease, and quickly cloaked himself to avoid the Soma. He was clearly shifting into a more hit-and-run tactic.

Svytoj Quickly made it to Tarnas's previous position, coating the area in slick ice as he stood at the epicenter.

And he waited.

[Daakjenaar]

8 hours ago, EscortAlpha said:

Svytoj Quickly made it to Tarnas's previous position, coating the area in slick ice as he stood at the epicenter.

And he waited.

Tarnas decloaked in midair. He was now attacking from above. He slashed at Svytoj's head with his heat sword.

[EscortAlpha]

3 hours ago, Daakjenaar said:

Tarnas decloaked in midair. He was now attacking from above. He slashed at Svytoj's head with his heat sword.

Svytoj batted away the blade as he sent another bolt of cold at Tarnas, keeping an eye open for decoys in the area.

[Daakjenaar]

2 hours ago, EscortAlpha said:

Svytoj batted away the blade as he sent another bolt of cold at Tarnas, keeping an eye open for decoys in the area.

Tarnas cloaked again for a moment, and slashed at Svytoj's head again, completelying invisible and silent.

[EscortAlpha]

49 minutes ago, Daakjenaar said:

Tarnas cloaked again for a moment, and slashed at Svytoj's head again, completelying invisible and silent.

The ice at Svytoj's feet melted as Tarnas made his charge. As the scalding blade swept across Svytoj's face, The barrel of his redeemer let out a blinding flash as it's payload barreled roughly towards Tarnas's head.

Edited March 21, 2017 by EscortAlpha

[Daakjenaar]

5 hours ago, EscortAlpha said:

The ice at Svytoj's feet melted as Tarnas made his charge. As the scalding blade swept across Svytoj's face, The barrel of his redeemer let out a blinding flash as it's payload barreled roughly towards Tarnas's head.

Tarnas made a decoy to take the shot for him. Still cloaked, he slashed at the back of Svytoj's head.

"Face it. I've won." Tarnas said.

[EscortAlpha]

1 minute ago, Daakjenaar said:

Tarnas made a decoy to take the shot for him. Still cloaked, he slashed at the back of Svytoj's head.

"Face it. I've won." Tarnas said.

Several towering frozen spikes erupted from the ground as the blade scored a deep cut into Svytoj's helmet and tissue.

" I̶'m҉ ̕S͠ti̡ll Sta͘nd͘in͝g H̡e̛re̷, ͞K̡ìd͘.̧ ͠You̸ ̨Hav́e͢n'̶t ͢W͠oǹ A̵n̢y͝th́i̵n̕g Yet͝. "

[EscortAlpha]

On 3/20/2017 at 3:53 AM, (PS4)SuperShadic445 said:

The duo looked at the ice forming inside the ship as they continued down the hallway. 

"What the hell is going on here?" Fenrir muttered. 

His feet had ignited along with his hands, melting a clear pathway for Fenrir to walk on. Meanwhile Ymir loved the crystalline structures being formed in the ship. Although he had a sneaking suspicion of who it was.

 A message would appear on Svytoj's screen 

<What's up with all the ice? It's driving Fenrir nuts.> 
 

Svytoj finally notice the message on his HUD.
<This guy is still trying to kill me. No idea how long it will take before this ends.>

((I have no Idea how I missed this comment. Sorry.))

[souldrive11]

On 3/20/2017 at 8:53 PM, souldrive11 said:

(on the advice of the editor's office, I'll be posting the next batch in chunks. Note that they're all within the same timeframe, just with different viewpoints)

As the stars began to brighten up the pitch black sky, all the more so due to a major lack of artificial lighting in Deadwood, it was nearing last call in the Valley Lily bar. It wasn't the most biggest or the most popular establishment in the settlement, with a maximum capacity for twelve, but it offered a niche escape for the few salvagers in the know.

Carved into the canyon walls, all the furniture was seemingly made out of what was dug out of the rocks itself; a floor of white shale, tables of sandstone quartz, chairs of red jasper, walls of red sandstone, and a bar top of the darkest coal. Overhanging gaslights punctuated the ceiling, and weaves of dried Ruk's Claws were used as matting on the seats. The sweet smell of cardamon and cinnamon wafted through the air.

It wasn't the decor that drew the tired and dust covered workers in though, but the food and drink: being one of the only places on the entire planet to get a decent meal, and more importantly to the men, the bartender.

In contrast to what the salvagers and bounty hunters wore: loose jackets and clothing, body armor, wide brimmed hats, the bartender stood out like a sore thumb. The bartender was a six foot tall woman whose face looked like it belonged to a teenager. Her waist length hair was tinged with the darkest hint of purple, and a blinding bang covered her right side. Her figure was healthy, if slimmer than the norm, and she wore a black bodysuit covering her entire body up to her neck (think koppra without the floofy bits on the shoulders and elbows), the dress extending down to her ankles. What appeared to be a mechanical choker was clasped tightly around her pale white neck as well. Whenever she made the rounds or brought out a tray of dishes from her limited menu, patrons gave an appreciative look but none dared to overstep their bounds. 

Tonight a newcomer, apparently coming in here since all the other bars were full, drank more than he thought he could handle and was starting to get out of control; smashing the table he was sharing with another salvager, pouring swears out of his mouth, and trying to cause a ruckus. 

The man had grabbed the person's arm across from him and was about to perform a magic trick with his fork, right arm raised, when the woman slides across the floor like a wraith and unflinchingly grabs his wrist, her boots giving a resounding *CLACK* on the ground.

"I think you've had enough for tonight sir~" the woman politely tells the man, her eyes closed and with an immaculate smile on her face. Her voice was sweet enough to make honey seem like coffee grounds.

"Stayouttathis,beeetchu! Imonuvebesthuntarrs *hic* inthisforshakndump, andIaintaboottaletthisscumgetofflaaghtliyy!!! *hic*"

"Sir, you're disturbing the other patrons and are in no shape to be fighting tonight. I highly suggest you head back home before you lose yourself entirely~"

The man staggers out of his chair and faces the bartender. The bounty was a mountain of a man, easily twice her size and enough muscle to crush a person's skull like a grape.

"Yarrdurrteehorre, Illshoowyuu *hic* nottuumeshuweeththuhgraightBluudiBilll!" The man manages do slur out, before letting off a right haymaker, aimed right at the woman's head.

The bartender's left eyelid cracks open ever so slighty, and for just an instant a faint glow of white peeked out from underneath. With a elegant precision, the woman slides under the man's arm, and pulls it over her back and flipping all of him onto the rock chair, smashing it to bits and sending a shockwave through the bar. Just as quickly, she turns him onto his back, locks his arm behind him and grabs his neck in a choke hold.

"I think that's enough out of you for tonight, sir. Feel free to come back tomorrow when you've sobered up~" The woman quietly whisperered into the man's ear, bending down like a predator playing with her prey. The smell of cardamon and cinnamon intensified in the drunken man's nostrils.

Using a strength one would more expect from the man on the floor than the one pinning him down, the woman drags the rouser off the floor and out the metal doors onto the middle of the street. Lifting him up and tilting him backwards in the air, she tosses him underhand like a piece of debris through the air, crashing back down with a great *THUMP* before tumbling several times and crumpling into a pile behind an alleyway.

"I'll be using *this*~" The woman quietly muses, shaking a bag of credits she pilfered of the man before he went flying away. "To pay for your bill~" before walking confidently back inside.

The bartender was met with cheers and applause, the old patrons used to seeing her particular brand of bouncing. In the Valley Lily, there were three rules: respect the staff, respect the customers, respect the food. Anybody who brings in trouble through the doors will find themselves very quickly evicted, possibly with more than just their pride wounded.

"You never cease to amaze us, Ms. Lily! Getting a show with dinner definitely made my night!" A salvager in the corner shouts.

"Thank you gentlemen~ But now I'm sorry to say it's closing time, feel free to come back tomorrow if you're still ticking~" the bartender says, giving a slight bow.

With a final charge of laughter laughter from the grizzled customers, they began to get out of their seats, polishing the last of their drinks and food and headed out the door, leaving their payment on the tables.

"Have a good night gentlemen, may tomorrow bring you fortune~" She says as the last bounty hunter exits the building before locking the metal doors for the night. One of the patrons left a half burning cigarette on the left of the bar top, beside a fully polished plate and bottle of tequila. 

"*sigh* Just how much can that person taste with all that smoke in his tongue~" Lily reflects, as she glided across the floor, tossing plates and glasses over the air and stacking them into a makeshift tower on top of her hands, her gait never hesitating for an instance. Dinner was still being cooked in the kitchen behind the countertop, and considering the nature of her *guests*, the night was still young.

As she passes by the bar top and brings the dishes in to be washed, the cigarette glows a bright white, like a white flower in a desert of black, before bubbling and dissolving into a puddle, and vaporizing into the air. 

(part 2 has arrived, fresh off the presses)

It was a busy evening in the small public clinic beside the Valley Lily. One of the salvaging teams unwittingly tripped off a buried shrapnel mine that had armed itself during the galleon's initial crash as the group was digging out a half buried armory. The mine made quick work of the men, perforating metal and flesh alike: Organs were ruptured, limbs were shattered, blood was sprayed. It was a wonder in and of itself that they all managed to drag their half torn bodies back to Deadwood without casualties. Still, without immediate treatment, it would be a miracle if any of them made it past the night.

Still, that's what she was here for: to see to it that these people pulled through, at least until they threw themselves back into those forsaken ships again. The doctor gets up off her chair and grabs a white coat hanging off the stone carved wall: in pristine color even in these desolate conditions and throws it over her shoulders as an impromptu cape, blending seamlessly with her equally white sleeveless bodysuit (think the default suit operators wear without any suit at all, without the sleeves up to the shoulders). A black beast of a hound gets up off the heated carpet in it's section of the small office, blood red eyes sharp and attentive. The full body armor on it's back quietly thrums to life, as half a dozen manipulator arms extend out and load up a medley of tools, filled bags, and fabrics. The hound quickly takes it place behind the doctor, acting as a second set of hands as she's about to get to work.

The doctor's snow white hair bounces behind her as she quickly strides to the center of the room, a stark contrast to her ebony brown face. From one of her white coats many inner lined pockets, she pulls out two arm length gloves and quickly snaps them on with practice that only comes from countless years of use. She walks to the patient nearest to her and places a hand on the man, his organs half spilling out over the operating bed. 

Physical contact only serves to confirm what she already felt even before she entered the room. Severe blood loss, puncture wounds across both lungs and liver, bone fractures on his entire left side including four vertebrate, loss of hearing and sight on the right side, various second and third degree burns across the entire front side. His wounds were horrific, but not the exception: the entire packed clinic was filled with no less than a dozen people all with similar injures, lying down on the floor or leaning on the sandstone walls. Every single irregular heartbeat, every single spasm of pain, every single drop of blood spilled; all of it was sensed by the doctor as bare as the baked walls of the canyon walls of Deadwood itself.

"...I'm gonna die, aren't I...?" The man whimpers slightly on the bed.

"You're going to live."

"...This is the end of the line..., tell my wife and son I love them..."

"You're *going* to live."

"...I can't go on, it's getting so cold..."

The doctor grabs the man by the throat, a scalpel appearing like magic in her right hand and hovering over his remaining good eye. Her cold orbs trained in on him, as dark as the deepest abyss.

"Listen and listen well." The woman says, loud enough for the entire room to hear. "Incurable diseases may one day have a cure; that is why doctors and nurses continue squeezing their brains in search of knowledge. To cure even killing. To kill and kill and kill and kill every disease. Yet what’s needed above all is the willpower of the patient. If the patient does not want to heal, it will be impossible to cure him no matter how many doctors there are. I will cure you. I will cure you so that you can move at will. I will cure you so that you can whisper your love to your wife and son. I will cure you so you can hold your gun once more. For that purpose, what’s needed above all is for your body, your cells, to be determined to be healed. If you feel you are losing your willpower, you must cheer up. Otherwise, I will kill you. Understand?" The woman asks, her voice sending chills to everyone within earshot.

The man quickly nods to the best of his ability, more afraid of incurring the doctor's wrath than the very distinct possibility of not making it through the night.

"Good." She dreadfully says to the group. "On my honor as a doctor, you will *all* make it out of here, by tomorrow morning, and be able to see your loved ones once again. Anyone who thinks about giving up and surrendering to despair will find that there are always worse ways do die. Am I clear?"

Everybody in the room nod as one, while the hound quickly leaps over patients and to the door, securing it and the windows for the night before quickly rejoining the doctor and handing her a needle and suture. The doctor leans down over the man, and for a brief moment if he was in any position to notice or care might just have seen the faintest glimmers of green and blue before fading away under her white gloves.

"Beginning operation."

A loud muffled scream was the last thing that came out of the clinic before the doors and windows finished sealing shut.

(on an unrelated matter, does everyone find this particular text color easy to read, or should I pick something else?)

Edited March 22, 2017 by souldrive11

[Daakjenaar]

8 hours ago, EscortAlpha said:

Several towering frozen spikes erupted from the ground as the blade scored a deep cut into Svytoj's helmet and tissue.

" I̶'m҉ ̕S͠ti̡ll Sta͘nd͘in͝g H̡e̛re̷, ͞K̡ìd͘.̧ ͠You̸ ̨Hav́e͢n'̶t ͢W͠oǹ A̵n̢y͝th́i̵n̕g Yet͝. "

Tarnas kept himself cloaked, and stabbed at the back of Svytoj's throat.

(Please tell me Svytoj isn't a krogan or something...)

[EscortAlpha]

11 hours ago, Daakjenaar said:

Tarnas kept himself cloaked, and stabbed at the back of Svytoj's throat.

(Please tell me Svytoj isn't a krogan or something...)

Svytoj felt the heated blade enter his neck, recoiling from the strike as a globe burst from Svytoj's position. The expansion slammed into Tarnas as the area inside the globe became a dense, blinding blizzard.

((don't give me any ideas. XD but no, not a Krogan.))

[Daakjenaar]

4 hours ago, EscortAlpha said:

Svytoj felt the heated blade enter his neck, recoiling from the strike as a globe burst from Svytoj's position. The expansion slammed into Tarnas as the area inside the globe became a dense, blinding blizzard.

((don't give me any ideas. XD but no, not a Krogan.))

There was a thud as Tarnas was thrown back, but he stayed cloaked, and just outside the radius of the snowglobe. A moment later, he decloaked, standing in front of Svytoj, outside of the snow globe.

"Look at yourself. I've won. I've severely damaged your frame, and caused you several massive injuries." Said Tarnas, referring to the damage his attacks had left. "You can't hold up that snow globe forever. When it deactivated, you're as good as dead."