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Jan 3, 12 at 3:11am ^Tseng_Eclipse vs finalfight (No One Will Hear You Scream)
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Setting: A battleship orbiting Ion's Earth.
Structure: 1 intro, 2-3 battle posts, 1 victory post.
Special Rules: 2 day time limit on posts.
1. Tiger of Wu
2. Bale Fire
3. Aulis Vaara
False hope leads to true despair, watch how quickly white turns to black.
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Jan 3, 12 at 11:35pm ^re: Tseng_Eclipse vs finalfight (No One Will Hear You Scream)
The soldier had cradled himself into a ball, clutching his weapon tightly to his chest. The screams were everywhere now, punctuated by loud bursts of gunfire. Blood dripped from his face to the ground, he was nearly soaked in it now. No matter. He could hear the sound of metal scraping as those, things, tried to enter his temporary sanctuary. He didn't have enough rounds to take them all if the door gave way. Worse was the thudding noise he heard coming from the vents. He had no choice.
"God please forgive me."
One more shot rang out to be lost in the cacophony of human suffering.
It had started with a figure cloaked in shadow. He simply appeared before the crew in the command quarters. Wearing a wicked grin he revealed a hideous looking staff and bowed towards his audience. These were men and women of the military and as soon as they recognized the threat their weapons were already raising to neutralize it. They were still to slow.
Ged slammed the staff into the ground, the thorns bursting off as though they were shrapnel. There were a few gun shots from soldiers spasming as the thorns dug into their flesh. And then, silence. "Well that was rather disappointing. Hopefully the others will provide a little more entertainment."
Ged's arm had a new hole in it, gifted to him by one of the recently deceased. Ignoring it he walked toward some machine that had gathered his interest. Now how do these things work? He pressed a button and saw a little green light show up on the panel. He waited but nothing else seemed to happen. He shrugged and hit another button, this time he didn't even get a green light. "Human's do make such curious toys." He turned to one of the dead men, "You there, make this thing work."
All he got in return was a dead gaze and the slightest bit of pink drool dribbling down the man's face.
"Ah I know your kind, one of the lazy ones are you? Well we can't be having that. Up and at them!" His staff channeled dark energy into the corpse and it soon let out a painful groan and rose. "There we are. Now what is your name?"
"Right, I should have expected as much. Well Rrrrr I have a little task for you. Hit the button that lets me talk to all our friends."
"Rrrrr!" The zombie walked over to the panel and slammed its fist down. "Rrrrr!"
"Well that was hardly use-"
"Captain Biggs is that you?" A concerned voice was now coming through the machine. The voice was accompanied by a worried face. "Who's that with you captain? And where is everybody?"
"Rrrrr be a good lad and show the lady where everybody is."
"Rrrrr." The undead soldier hit a button that must have done the trick because Ged soon heard the woman screaming.
"While I enjoy screaming as much as the next man I believe now just isn't the appropriate time. Rrrrr if you could please silence this woman." The screaming was cut off. "Ahhh, much better. Am I speaking to everyone right now Rrrrr?"
He heard pounding on the doors outside the room that gave him his answer. Ged poked two fingers into the bullet hole in his arm and pulled them back out, his finger now lit in a black fire. Shaking his hand the fire fell to the floor and rippled through the ground, traveling over the remaining corpses. They were soon awoken into the dark unlife, ready to receive orders. "Ever the obedient soldiers aren't they Rrrrr?"
"I knew you would approve. Now I have to make an announcement, would you go and take care of that nuisance that insists on pounding on my door?"
"Rrrrr." The former captain looked at its recently risen comrades and relayed its orders. "Rrrrr." He was really succinct.
Ged turned away from his horde as he refocused his attention to the screen before him. Replacing the woman who was on there previously was a man who was clearly screaming at Ged, but all the necromancer heard was the beginning of gunfire and the first cries of the dying. "You'll forgive me for ignoring you, but really my concerns are a little more pressing than yours. I'm expecting a very important guest soon, and we really must make this ship more presentable. If you could all just sit quietly in your rooms while I entertain this guest we'll get along splendidly. If not... well I strongly advise against you trying to interfere with my plans." Ged's smile was cruel. He hit the switch that his minion had earlier and the screen went black. Now to get down to business. "Rrrrr would you come back in here please?"
There was the sound of tearing flesh and crunching bones. "Rrrrr you can have all you want to eat in a bit. Get over here now soldier, that's an order." If zombies could sigh, Rrrrr most surely would have as he dragged himself back into the command quarters. His insides peeling off as the ground tore into his exposed stomach. "Ouch Rrrrr. Lost your bottom half fighting the good fight did you? Don't worry about it too much my friend, from what I hear there's definitely a zombie woman out there whose into that. Still we can't really have you representing me looking like this can we?"
Ged bent down and reached his hands into the zombie, forming the shape in his mind he set his dark magic free to do its work. He pulled free and watched as Rrrrr began to convulse on the ground. The zombie's skin ripped open as bones from the rib cage stretched apart and formed into arachnid legs. The spine curved backward until it was nearly at a ninety degree angle, the legs of bone giving the undead near human heighth.
"My my my, aren't we handsome? Well Rrrrr, I highly suspect there are quite a lot of foolish people who weren't willing to listen to my words of wisdom. Shall we go show them just why that was a bad idea?"
"I was hoping you would say that. Rrrrr, you're a zombie after my own heart." Screams and gunfire echoed through the halls to Ged as his horde had already set to work. Never one to be left behind, Ged turned to his new best friend, "Shall we?"
False hope leads to true despair, watch how quickly white turns to black.
Jan 4, 12 at 10:21pm ^re: Tseng_Eclipse vs finalfight (No One Will Hear You Scream)
Ion was a man who had become infinitely familiar with nightmares. From the waking one that had been his time in St. Leon’s, to more conventional ones as he had plotted against the Tower, to the ones that came to him almost constantly now, to remind him of what he had done, what he had become and, most sobering of all, what he yet had the potential to turn into.
That was why, when all that woke him was the screeching of his parrot along with the soft tones of an alarm clock that was lucky to see any use at all, he was both surprised and unsettled.
He had no time for fate and destiny, but equally he did not believe in anything being easy. It had been clear, from the first memory that he could clearly recall, that no force in the universe was going to make his path through life a simple one to walk down.
He realised, when going through the simple, everyday motions of the morning made him feel uneasy, that he was letting paranoia get the better of him. It had its hooks in tight.
“Murderer,” squawked his parrot, in between cracking through the hard shell of a nut with its beak. Ion repressed a twitch of irritation and walked up to the bridge.
“I was about to send for you,” Connor greeted, getting straight to the point as usual. Ion didn’t bother to comment on the unusual nature of him being there in person, nor the unprecedented appearance of one of his lab workers, who was stood just behind him. Martin, perhaps. Ion didn’t quite care enough to find out. “We’ve got a problem.”
“When have we not?” Ion returned tiredly. He had expected little less, after such a distressingly easy night. He wondered if there was actually a connection, or if it was just ascertainment bias fuelling his paranoid nature. Connor grimaced, glancing over at Roshea.
“Distress signal from Station 3,” he informed him, taking control of the conversation with a gesture at the viewscreen. What normally showed a wall-wide view of earth now showed a schematic detailing the location of all the space stations surrounding it. The circle for Station 3 was pulsing red, with a little white ring outlining one of the ships next to it. A battleship, one used for defending earth against outward threats instead of dealing with internal strife. Of course. Of course it would be a military station, one with the greatest potential for disaster if something went wrong.
Memories of the destruction of the Vindictus, of looking at photographs of the wreckage in abject disbelief, played out uncomfortably in his mind.
“I suppose a rescue team has already been deployed?” he asked. Roshea nodded.
“The Station itself hasn’t been breached yet, but they sent the whole crew of the Dolorosa to help the stricken ship and have received no contact since,” he responded. Ion raised an eyebrow.
“An entire ship? Entirely out of contact?” he repeated. Roshea’s face was grim, which was confirmation enough.
“They lost contact with the Immortalis at 0514 hours,” he informed him. “The only messages to get through were strings of incomprehensible static punctuated with screaming.” Ion winced at the thought. “The Dolorosa was dispatched at 0600, and summarily went off-grid at 0607, with no messages received from either ship after that point.”
“Seven minutes to work through an entire ship,” Ion murmured, feeling more and more uncomfortable as the conversation progressed. This couldn’t be his fault. He was nowhere near Station 3, it was practically on the other side of the earth. He wasn’t sure if that would make it better or worse.
“The message went out at 0630 to all stations to be on full alert,” Roshea added. “Dr. Connor came up shortly after.”
“Request of the Tower,” Connor remarked. “They want me to help find out what’s causing this.” He met Ion’s gaze frankly. “You, too, since you have such a track record when it comes to aliens.”
“I don’t work for the Tower any more,” Ion replied with a raised eyebrow, which got a snort of amusement from Connor. The poor man by his side looked a harrying mixture of incredibly confused and frightened.
“Right now, we have no idea what’s on the ship, if it’s living in the standard sense of the word, or how many of the crew are still alive,” Connor informed him, bypassing over Ion’s response as if he hadn’t even spoken.
“And I’m supposed to go and find out?” Ion supposed. Connor inclined his head, despite Roshea’s expression of surprise indicating that he hadn’t been informed of that. “And, I suppose, miraculously survive whatever is capable of taking down an entire ship?” he continued. Connor just looked amused.
“You do cling rather tenaciously to life,” he responded. “Martin here’s got both a teleportation locking wristband and access codes to get into the ship’s computers. If there’s nobody alive on the ship, find out what’s caused it, get out and Station 3 will destroy the battleship.”
“Because destroying the aliens with firepower went so well last time,” Ion replied, his tone hard and full of acid. Most of the crew on the Bridge winced, but it didn’t faze Connor in the slightest.
“I’ll leave it up to your judgement,” he responded with a shrug. “Martin, if it gets hot, give him the codes and get out. I’m sure he’ll work out the consoles eventually.” Martin, at this point practically white with fear, nodded without a sound.
Ion only scowled.
Teleporting onto the ship was the easy part. A locking to the ship’s hold, a flick of a button, a flash of light, and there they were. The rest looked to be harder.
The ship looked like the setting from a horror movie. Even with everything he’d seen in his life, the sight of walls painted in blood and gore was enough to turn his stomach a little. Martin, who had clearly had the upbringing of a normal person, staggered to the side and retched.
“You can go now, if you wish,” Ion informed him. It wasn’t a particularly malicious statement. It didn’t yet have all the hallmarks of one of the aliens that always seemed to harass him, but if it was – and so far it was looking likely, at the least – Martin would only be a hindrance. He glanced down at his wristband, just to be sure, but it was still locking on to Station 9 like it was supposed to.
Martin shook his head, his grip tightening around the interfacing unit in his hands. It was, for all intents and purposes, a small, flat screen, and would probably provide no protection for him whatsoever if he did have to use it in defence. Ion repressed the flicker of irritation. Even Johnson, his protégé apparent who was now scared of shadows, would have been more useful than one of Connor’s lackeys.
He began to walk down the corridor. The lights were flickering on and off, and each footstep was accompanied with a faint splashing noise instead of the customary clank of soles on metal. He tried not to look at what he was he walking in, or think about what it was doing to his shoes.
“Wh-what could have done this?” Martin asked, still looking shell-shocked. Ion hoped the Tower was going to pay for the PTSD treatment he was inevitably going to require.
“That is what we are here to find out,” Ion reminded him, his tone clipped. The sounds of screaming, and the faint echoes of gunfire, filtered down the corridors towards them.
Martin almost screamed when the first creature ran at them. Ion saw the lack of a web around it and reacted immediately, raising a hand and slamming it against the wall at the far end of the corridor with his telekinesis before he had even realised that it used to be human.
He left Martin, a look of terror on his ashen face, and walked down the corridor to where the thing that had once been human now lay. It was still twitching, but even if the lack of web hadn’t confirmed it as dead, the mess of bullet holes where it had once had a face would have done the same. Ion hazarded a guess that it had once been human, then picked the rifle up from its twitching torso and emptied the magazine into it until it stopped twitching.
“An even more unpleasant variation on zombies,” he muttered, glancing back at Martin. He was fairly certain that it wasn’t Amadeth – it wasn’t exactly her style – but he was left at a loss to what it might actually be.
“Th-that was a m-member of the c-c-crew,” Martin stammered from where he was stood. “Y-you just sh-shot-”
“He was already dead,” Ion dismissed, although he did drop the bloodstained rifle and wipe the blood from his hands in disgust. “I would highly suggest you leave before it gets worse.” Martin glanced from the object in his hands to the slumped corpse of something that had once been human, then slowly shook his head. “They are not paying you enough money,” Ion informed him, before continuing on his walk down into the corridors. Finding the source of the problem wouldn’t be so hard, he would just have to follow the screaming.
And survive long enough to get to the progenitor, but right now that was secondary on his ‘things to think about’ list.
Jan 5, 12 at 8:14pm ^re: Tseng_Eclipse vs finalfight (No One Will Hear You Scream)
As Ion walked through the halls, stepping around the bits of the fallen that had been strewn about, he sensed a presence watching him. He took a few more steps before stopping completely, “Whatever you are, I know you’re there. Can we speed this process up?” There was a tone of resignation in his voice, as though today was just like any other.
The dried blood on the walls became liquid once more and dripped to the floor. Bits of flesh were pulled along to be added to a growing blob of human anatomy. As the gore grew larger a film-like membrane caked itself around it, hardening into a cocoon like shell. As it finished growing in size it began to pulsate, with each dark beat seemingly ready to tear an opening and unleash whatever hellish creature that lied in wait inside.
Ion regarded the alien object with cautious curiosity; it was clear that whatever this thing was it wasn’t just for decoration. Likely understanding what had made it would lead to answers about just what had wiped out Immortalis and Dolorosa. He was tempted to simply crush it, but had a strong feeling that would be a bad idea.
“I wouldn’t worry about that too much Ion.” The voice caught him by surprise, a man had seemingly appeared out of thin air behind them. Ged felt the invasive presence near instantly, but simply tutted and raised two fingers to his head. “There’s nothing you want to see in there I assure you.”
Ion let out a scowl of displeasure. “I should have known things wouldn’t be so easy. I suppose I have you to thank for forcing me to come here?”
“Force is such a harsh word. I prefer ‘invited’” Gunshots rang from some far off corner of the ship, distracting Ged momentarily. “You must certainly admire the human spirit.” He smiled, “I certainly do. Which I suppose leads us to the purpose of tonight’s events. You have something I want Ion.”
The man raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Normally I’d offer you something in exchange, but I can already see that my words would fall on deaf ears. I’ll simply have to take it.”
Ion let out a disheartened sigh, “Great, I love talking to psychopaths.”
“Empty words com-“ Ged’s was silenced by a burst of gunfire. The tightly wound ball of nerves that was Martin was near screaming as he emptied his pistol clip into the necromancer’s body. Ged was jerked back, but was able to remain standing, his blood beginning to swirl around his feet. He regarded the fear ridden man coldly before turning back to Ion. His eyes seemingly became a black writhing mass, to chaotic to take on any solid form. “I must say, I wish you hadn’t brought that disgusting thing with you.” He looked back to Martin with what could almost pass as an expression of warmth, “I’m not talking about you. You’re too harmless for me to really care about one way or the other. Though you have impressed me so far. You may just make it to my list yet. “
Martin wasn’t paying attention though; he was staring hard at Ion. He nodded his head as some message was passed along, hidden from Ged's ears. “Oh are you two planning something? I hate to interfere, but this is my show.” He snapped his fingers and the cocoon exploded in a wave of dark energy, knocking the two co-conspirators off their feet. There was a savage growl as the newly freed monster leaped forward. Landing near Ion it slammed its fist down. The man managed to roll out of the way in time and the creature’s arm sank harmlessly into the ground, tearing through the metal floor as though it were cardboard.
The creature had a vaguely human shape. Its skin was stained dark red, its body bulging with muscles. Its head had no features to speak of save for a giant mouth full of jagged teeth. Letting out a grunt it lifted its arm back up through the paneling, ignoring the jagged metal edges that tore into its flesh. It wasn’t much taller than the telepath, but its sheer bulk made it nearly twice his size. It grabbed a piece of floor paneling and let out another roar as it tossed it at the psychic.
Ion was able to alter the course of the projectile so that it crashed safely into the wall. This did not please the brute, who proceeded to pound the ground in rage. It crouched into a pouncing position and jumped forward again, only to get cut off mid-flight by a reinforced steel door. Ged who had been watching from the sidelines gazed over to see Martin accessing one of the many control panels inside the ship that simply baffled the necromancer. The monster on the other side of the door howled with frustration as it hurled itself against the blockade. It left small dents with each impact.
Ged clapped his hands, “Well played. I do hope you weren’t planning on going anywhere though.” Ged gestured toward the door, “He’ll be so eager to play when he gets through, but until then I need to offer new entertainment. Rrrrr do you hear me?”
A nearby speaker responded with a hearty “Rrrrr.”
“If you could be so kind as to round up the troops and come pay us a visit I would appreciate it.”
Ged chuckled, “Good lad that Rrrrr. I suppose it is my responsibility to deal with you until they arrive.” He held up his hand and summoned his staff from black fire. The blood that had been swirling around his legs was instantly sucked into it, causing it to glow an ominous black. A loud clank announced the progress the brute was making with the door, it wouldn’t be long before he found freedom. Footsteps in the distance accompanied by moans told of Rrrrr and the approaching horde.
Ged gave a polite bow to Ion even has his staff began to burn with the familiar black flame, “I do hope you prove to be worth all this effort.”
The flames shot forth.
False hope leads to true despair, watch how quickly white turns to black.
Jan 7, 12 at 8:15pm ^re: Tseng_Eclipse vs finalfight (No One Will Hear You Scream)
Ion would have allowed himself a quick moment to congratulate himself for being right, but he wasn’t all that sure that it was a good thing this time. And besides, he had other things to worry about.
Like, for example, incoming magical fire.
To be honest, Ion was becoming sick of fire.
He was forced to roll again, his powers no use against flames, and when he got to his feet he was covered in other people’s blood, not to mention a little bruised. He wanted to take hold of the staff with his powers and rip it from his opponent’s hands, but even as he began the movement the lights of the Web around it blazed in defence. Ion hissed through his teeth as the backlash made him stagger.
“Trying to take another’s treasured possessions is incredibly rude,” the necromancer chastised. Another horrible, crushing sound of flesh on steel reminded Ion that he did not have the time to be thinking of rejoinders. He had to find a way of defending himself and, ideally, Martin, at least until the young man had finished his job. He also had to find a way of getting rid of the necromancer in charge, at the very least. He would have tried to kill him, especially in the wake of all the slowly reanimating bodies, but he had given up on considering that the minute he saw the bright, red Web around him.
He took a step backwards, away from the staff, and glanced towards the door. In his head, he counted down, and as he hit zero the creature slammed a fist into the door again. Nearly through. That was inevitable, and not something Ion was concerning himself with. What he was more interested in was how intelligent the creatures Ged had at his command were. It seemed that the answer, at least when the necromancer was otherwise occupied, was ‘not very’.
“I must say, I was expecting a little more than this,” Ged remarked, sounding disappointed. Ion didn’t respond immediately, one hand curling into a fist. “Perhaps if I kill your friend first you’ll put up a little more of a fight?” On the other side of the door, Ion estimated that the beast the necromancer had created was raising its fist.
“Or set you aflame?” Ged suggested.
“S-sir Ion,” Martin started, understandably terrified. Ion ignored him too.
Before the fist came down on the door for what would almost certainly have been the final time, Ion grabbed it with his powers and, with a burst of white light, ripped it from its frame. The beast couldn’t stop its momentum, however, and staggered forwards, the blow it eventually landed making a sizable dent in the floor. Ion, his teeth gritted, slammed the door down hard onto its prone form, the sound of breaking bones and breaking flesh enough to make Marvin scream. He lifted it again, the bruising already beginning to show on his left arm, and slammed it into the floor between himself and Martin. He didn’t for a moment think it would stop the necromancer if he decided to go after the young lab tech, but it would at least impede the zombies.
Ged gave him a round of applause, each clap driving the staff’s thorns deep into his flesh. The skull began to glow black again, and at the edges of his vision Ion saw the mess of blood and gore that was all that remained of the creature begin to twitch slightly. He wasn’t surprised. At this point, it was hard to call between pessimism and realism.
He stepped backwards smartly to avoid another line of fire from the staff, but this one had not been aimed at him. Instead, the black flame caught on the blood that ran in tiny rivers through the floor, spawning a lake of fire that crawled along the blood as though it were oil. Ion spared the briefest of seconds to glance over at Martin, assured that he was out of range of the fire for the moment, and backed up against the wall. As the flames leapt upwards, increasing in intensity as Ged raised his staff, Ion pressed himself against the wall to avoid the surge of heat.
Sprinklers, Martin, he suggested, unhappy with his current position. He was, to be blunt, a sitting duck. He saw the necromancer frown, his eyes flickering between a dark blue and pure black as he looked from Ion to a point just above his head. Ion didn’t have much in the way of weapons, and the necromancer had him in a bad position.
With a click, little openings on the ceiling slid apart and water poured down upon the two combatants. It did nothing for the fire, which had begun to singe Ion’s clothes, but as the water mixed with the blood it began to wash towards the edges of the corridor, like a moving wall of fire. Ion stepped around it as Ged narrowed his eyes, looking no less frightening even when soaked.
“Fair enough,” he allowed, before raising the staff. The skull glowed for a while and nothing happened, then a flash of dark light set the blood soaked into Ion’s clothing alight. Behind the impromptu metal wall, Martin screamed as though hell itself had visited its horrors on him. And, looking at the damage the necromancer had wrought, it probably wasn’t all that far off for the poor young man.
Ion gritted his teeth, trying to repress both a growl of frustration and the pain cutting into his skin. There was heat, but it didn’t burn like fire, more like magical acid, eating through his flesh. He threw his jacket to the floor as quickly as he could tear it from his body, but there was still fire on his trousers, on his shoes, flickering weakly on his skin. Water kept pouring from the sprinklers, easing some of the pain, but the blood that washed away only crawled towards the staff, sucked up by hungry thorns that had burrowed into the floor itself.
Ion’s eyes swept over the corridor. There were clear lines between the different sections of floor, and although they were securely bolted, he had little other option with Martin still screaming to himself a short way away. With a grimace, the lights on both arms shining brightly enough to be seen through the black light of the fire, he wrenched the floor from beneath the necromancer and tried to crush him. He bled like any other man, even if he could take mortal wounds and live. Perhaps if he destroyed him, the ship would be free from his influence.
There was more blood, although Ion couldn’t see the results of his assault immediately. Above him, the sprinklers stuttered to a halt, leaving the crackling fire to eat at Ion’s skin. It was weak, after the relentless barrage had greatly diluted the quantity on his clothes, but some of it was still there, stubbornly soaked in. It always took so long to get blood from clothes.
For a second, the corridor had bright, white walls instead of steel grey, and as Ged got to what was left of his feet, clutching on the thorned staff for support, Ion thought he saw the face of a man he had made very certain was dead.
Gunfire broke the trance. Close to their location, too. The ‘troops’ that Ged had summoned were getting closer, no doubt led by another of the disgusting quasi-human things like the one that still twitched on the floor. Martin was still screaming.
Get out of here, Ion told him, eyes locking with the necromancer. There was something in them, an uneasiness, a brokenness, that came not from Ged but from Ion himself. It didn’t move him, though. He knew exactly what kind of man he was. Many people had shown him, and he saw it every time he slept.
Martin was still screaming. Gibbering, perhaps. The fear wasn’t a natural one, and there was pain in his voice, too.
Get out of here! Ion insisted, lacing the command with power this time. He heard the boy wail, heard the gunfire abruptly stop. Heard the low, guttural moaning echo down the corridor.
He saw the thing he was sure he’d killed begin to move more coherently.
Press the button and go! Ion repeated. Press the damn button! Ged offered him a slight smile, clearly not fooled by the silence. Ion suspected that if the bloodstained man had worn a hat, it would have been doffed.
Hands shaking, Martin pressed his fingers to the device on his wrist, and vanished. Ignoring the fire that still flickered on his skin, he walked over and picked up the young man’s gun from where it had fallen, taking the empty clip from the holder and picking up another, bloodstained though it was, from the side and loading it. Bullets perhaps did nothing worth doing against the necromancer, but they had certainly managed to stop his zombies.
And from the sounds of it, he was going to have to stop rather a lot of them.
Jan 9, 12 at 11:56pm ^re: Tseng_Eclipse vs finalfight (No One Will Hear You Scream)
“Oh did Martin leave? I felt like I was just really getting to know him too. I guess that leaves just the two of us Ion.” Ged’s head turned and he gazed seemingly into the distance. “Pity, it seems Rrrrr has brought you some friends. And I had made it so clear that this was an invitation only affair.” His staff began to pulse out the dark energy, but the flames did not come. Instead the darkness around Ged continued to grow until he was shrouded in shadow.
It soon faded to reveal an empty space. “Do you think you can just hide from me?” Ion probed for Ged, but his web was nowhere to be found. What he did find though was nearly a dozen others approaching him quickly. These must be the uninvited guests he was talking about. Reaching out to them he felt their fear, but overriding that fear he found a sense of discipline. These were survivors in the purest form of the word.
They were soon within viewing distance, and not only them, scores of the undead were in quick pursuit. As the soldiers advanced they would leave two soldiers in the back firing at the zombies, moving forward when the two next closest soldiers gave the all clear and took their place as stallers. It was efficient even if the lack of accuracy meant their bullets were mostly just a nuisance to the horde.
They ran toward him, but showed no signs of slowing. Not that Ion could blame them. “What the hell are you staring at! If you want to live son you best get your ass in gear!” The soldier didn’t even turn his head to speak as he ran past. Looking at the approaching legion and looking down to see his sparse ammo, Ion saw no reason to play hero and fell in step along the soldiers.
They took him to another steel door. A soldier quickly worked the keypad and got them inside. Before she could get the door shut though, several zombies followed the team inside. Cut off from the horde though they were easy picking for the soldiers that lay in waiting, their fight was brief. The soldiers let out sighs of relief before the man clearly in charge bellowed orders. “Rico, Diaz, keep an eye on that door, I want to know the second they seem like they might get through. Carmen survey the room for weapons and ammo. You,” he pointed a finger at Ion, “Please tell me you aren’t the only reinforcements from the Dolorosa.”
Ion shook his head, “I’m afraid not. Dolorosa went off the grid almost as soon as it made contact with this ship.” The man punched the wall.
“God Damn it. We heard their hailing call, but captain Biggs had the system disabled so we couldn’t warn them.” A little bit of the fire in his eyes died, but he regained his composure. “Who the hell are you then?”
“Station 9 sent me to discover the cause of the distress signal.”
The man let out a whistle, “Someone must really hate you my friend.”
Ion wore a grim expression, “I know. Any idea what caused all this?”
The man let out a bitter laugh, “That depends on what answer your looking for. There was a message hours ago from something, I wouldn’t call it a man, more like a devil. He told us he was expecting a guest and that we had to stay holed up or there would be consequences. Bastard wasn’t kidding about that.”
The one named Diaz turned to him, “He made these monsters. He did something to Captain Biggs, we were locked out of the system until about ten minutes ago. We saw a chance to run and took it only to find that shitstorm.” He gestured toward the door that was the only thing keeping the hungry undead from making it inside. “This situation is fucked.”
The sergeant shook his head, “That’s as good a word for it as any. Now that Biggs isn’t running the computers anymore I thought we could make it to the shuttles and get the hell out of here, but it seems Fate had other plans. What do we do about that Rico!?”
The female soldier looked up, “Make Fate our bitch sir!”
“Right on soldier." He turned back to Ion, "So there’s the situation. Your best bet is sticking with us until we find a way out of this hell hole.
“We can’t be having that.” Ion perked up instantly at the voice, where was he? The red web sprang forth from seemingly nowhere behind the sergeant. There was no time to shout a warning, Ion tossed the man to the side, pain flaring up on his arm as he added new bruises to it.
“You’re no fun Ion.” Ged had fully emerged into the room now.
Slightly stunned by the events at hand the sergeant still found his voice. “FIRE!” The necromancer was overwhelmed by a hail of bullets and flung into a wall. For several seconds he wasn’t allowed to fall as the soldiers continuously fired into him until their clips were empty. His body finally fell prone to the ground.
The sergeant was staring at Ion’s cross, “You’re...”
“There’s no time for pleasantries sergeant, he’s still alive.”
“He can’t be!” Sure enough though Ged was rising to his feet, letting out a chuckle as he did so.
“You lack proper manners sergeant. Perhaps I should teach you some?” Ged plunged a hand into a bullet hole that had hit near his heart. Grabbing onto something he slowly withdrew his arm, a long blade being pulled free of his body. Once it was out he held it to his side. “It was kind of you and your men to gift me this metal, I shall be sure to return the favor.” Staff in one hand, sword in the other, Ged lunged forward.
The soldier that had the misfortune of being his target was caught in the middle of reloading his weapon. The blade cut through his gun, then cut through his arm sending his hand falling to the ground. He could only scream as Ged brought his weapon across for the deathblow. The strike never came though as Ion shoved Ged back.
“No fair Ion, all of you against little old me. Let’s even the odds shall we?” The door opened and hell poured in. The soldiers were in a panic as they picked their targets, in the chaos Ged made his way for Ion. He thrust the blade at the telepath’s gut, but Ion easily jumped backward. Preparing for Ged’s next blow he was suddenly thrown to the side by a soldier. Confused, Ion looked back to where he had been standing previously only to find several zombies now occupying his former position.
He grasped the soldier’s outstretched arm and allowed himself to be pulled up. “Thanks.”
The soldier raised his other arm now wrapped in a hastily made tourniquet. “Just returning the favor sir.” Two arms came from above the man, grasping his head. They jerked hard and wrenched it from his body. It had happened so quickly that Ion barely had time to process it. Looking up he saw the creature responsible for his savior’s death. It was somehow more twisted than what he had viewed earlier, its legs of bone allowing it to cling to the ceiling by puncturing through it for grip. It gazed at him and roared.
As it headed towards him he caught the name tag. Biggs.
False hope leads to true despair, watch how quickly white turns to black.
Jan 11, 12 at 8:29pm ^re: Tseng_Eclipse vs finalfight (No One Will Hear You Scream)
There was blood everywhere.
Blood pumped weakly from the stump that was all that was left of the headless soldier’s neck, it hit the floor, half-congealed, from the bullet holes the soldiers put into the zombified corpses of their former comrades, it ran in rivers across the floor and down his skin. Ged’s laughter, barely more than a chuckle regardless, echoed in his ears, and for a second, Ion choked.
The beast struck at him with sharp nails, and the Sergeant tugged him back so that what would have clawed his face clean off only left four fine lines of blood on its right side. the chatter of bullets was far too loud in the confined space, but that was not what bothered Ion.
What bothered him was the blood.
Again the corridor became that bright, white room, the floor and the walls stained dark red. Blood, his blood. Over and over again.
They had mocked him, for screaming at the pain.
“Get back and get down,” Ion growled at the soldiers behind him. Blood was running into his right eye, and he hoped it was that and not the thing’s claws that had obscured his vision on that side. he would let himself be concerned with that later, though, when his mind had cleared and he had room for concern.
“Sir, this is a-” the sergeant tried.
“Get back,” Ion repeated, voice accompanied by a psychic command, “and get down.” They moved backwards as a unit, half of them with guns trained on the approaching horde and half of them aiming at the thing on the roof. More than one of them looked a little pale. Ion counted nine of them still alive, nine of twelve. That only made him angrier.
The lights of his web blazed to full brightness all around him, an angelic mockery, covered in blood and gore, as he grabbed hold of the thing that had formerly been Biggs and wrenched it to the floor, ceiling and all. It hit the floor and began to pull its legs free of the mangled metal it had been using for purchase, the first that it freed attempting to embed itself in Ion’s stomach. He stepped to the side, the light reflecting in his eyes, and let the sharp bone embed itself in the floor, then physically took hold of it and wrenched it free from the creature’s body with a pulse of lights and power.
The creature roared in a mixture of anger and pain, twisting around so it was what passed for the right way up and lunging for him as it pulled the rest of its legs free. Its teeth snapped shut mere millimetres from Ion’s wrist, and a bullet grazed his arm as one of the more easily horrified of the soldiers opened fire on the monstrosity. As the creature’s momentum brought it to a halt next to Ion, he raised the leg and, with an incoherent cry of rage, brought it down on the creature. The leg was not sharp, force more than anything having anchored it to the ceiling, but the lights shone and trembled, giving Ion more than enough force to drive the spike of bone clear through its body. He didn’t even wait for confirmation that the creature was still alive, grabbing the next leg that came towards him and repeating the motion with a cold, set look in his eyes. More blood added itself to the pile on the floor as the thing that had once been Biggs writhed and snapped and tore gashes open on Ion’s legs with its fingers. With all eight ‘legs’ impaled in its dripping, broken torso, Ion brought the backs of his hands together and then quickly pulled them apart.
With a brief halo of lights around the legs, the force that Ion was channelling pulled the thing apart.
There was a quiet but coordinated movement of the soldiers away from him as he looked up at Ged, now covered in gore and little bits of bone as well as blood.
“How cruel,” the necromancer remarked, turning the sword in his hand idly. “Murdering poor, defenceless Rrrrr like that.” Ion’s only open eye narrowed.
Over and over again. All he was good for was getting people killed.
He picked up one of the blood-spattered legs from where it had come to rest on the floor, twisted around to avoid Ged’s swing of the sword, and threw it hard enough to impale an unfortunate zombie against the wall. The female soldier emptied what was left of her magazine into Ged as the necromancer turned, but it had about as much effect as all the other bullets had. Ion watched the blood trickle down the hole in Ged’s forehead and picked up another of the bone legs as Diaz pulled Rico back, out of range of Ged’s next attack. Ion didn’t see them, didn’t register them. All he could see was Ged, but in his place was a brown-haired man with a mocking smile, and instead of the sword, he held a razor-sharp scalpel.
Ged was faster and cleverer than the zombies he had created, and dodged Ion’s throw with ease and grace, the bone clattering to the floor and making the nearest soldier shy away from it. Ion ducked back away from Ged’s return strike, a little less graceful than the necromancer but achieving the same goal nonetheless. Unlike the zombie he’d so brutally taken apart, he couldn’t see Ged’s every move laid out in his head, but by watching him carefully, never taking his eyes from him, he could at the very least get out of the way.
There was still something left of the dead soldier’s face, and his eyes seemed to be mocking Ion, accusing him with every step he took. Ged wasn’t going to give him the option to repeat his previous trick.
He remembered screaming as that blade had cut into his flesh, relentless, unforgiving, remembered watching the light reflect from the blood as he waited for the Institute’s doctors to come and put him under while they fixed the damage. Over and over again.
Put him out of his misery, they’d thought. Put him out of his misery.
Ged darted forward, blade raised, and as Ion moved backwards his foot caught on a slick of half-destroyed entrails, and he fell.
He didn’t have time to think. He pulled the nearest dead thing to him up in front of him, holding there with the lights shining around it even as Ged impaled it with the sword. It was the headless soldier’s body, and despite Ion’s efforts the point of the sword was still only centimetres from his face, blood dripping down the blade to land on his skin.
Something in that brought him back to the corridor, to the gunfire and the wordless screaming of zombies. He was bleeding quite badly from the cuts on his leg, despite their superficial nature. There were more zombies than there were surviving crew and, at a guess, the number of bullets they had left in their weapons.
Ged slid the blade back out of the body, and rather than try and roll out of the way, Ion grabbed hold of the ceiling with his powers, and pulled.
Jan 13, 12 at 10:00pm ^re: Tseng_Eclipse vs finalfight (No One Will Hear You Scream)
Jan 15, 12 at 8:13am ^re: Tseng_Eclipse vs finalfight (No One Will Hear You Scream)
Your introduction post was very entertaining, with Ged as funny and witty as ever. There was plenty of great dialogue in there, with the reference to Amadeth (At least I assume that was a reference) and Ged needing help getting a computer to work possibly being the best parts. That said, there was a bit of lack in regards to description. The surroundings really weren't displayed at all. A mention or two of futuristic metal, automatic doors and such would have easily fixed that. Also, some of the actions aren't explained very well. For instance, the zombie showing the lady on the screen the corpses. Did hitting that button adjust a camera? Tilt the screen? Also, when Ged asks for the same lady to be silenced, I thought that maybe that he or the zombie had killed her somehow. Might have wanted to use the word 'mute' in there somewhere. Other than that though, quite good.
Your first battle post continued things well enough. There was some good imagery, with the blood, gore and the pulsing flesh. I was a little confused about the positioning of Ion, Ged and Martin. Ged apparently appears behind Ion, so is he between him and Martin? Might have wanted to clarify that. Also, what exactly was Ged referring to with "I wish you hadn’t brought that disgusting thing with you."? Maybe he meant the Web, but perhaps that should also have been clarified. Other than that the dialogue was again great, though in a different way. The expressions of the characters also jumped out at me several times, such as Ged's look of warmth. Very nice.
Overall, your second battle post was about execution over concept. Basically while your writing was good, what you were writing about wasn't quite at the same level. The space marines frankly came off as pretty cliche, and removing Ged for so much of the post really hurt it. There really wasn't that much fighting either, which shouldn't happen in your final battle post. The ending was better, with the bullets being morphed into a sword, as well as introduction of Biggs. Otherwise though this was a pretty good post, just not great like the last two.
Reading your introduction post, the best part about it was how your writing established the scene. Where the duel was set, what was happening, what could happen next, that kind of stuff. The parrot was a nice touch, and I liked that Martin decided to tag along. Added a slightly more human element to things, as well as giving Ion a more vulnerable presence. There were one or two points when the grammar went awry, for instance "who was stood just behind him". All in all though, a very good post.
On to your first battle post. To begin with, I'm not quite sure what exactly Ion is congratulating himself about. May have wanted to clarify there. Things start a little slowly, but I particularly like the part when Ion begins his countdown, along with Ged's threats. There were again some small grammar issues, for example "At this point, it was hard to call between pessimism and realism." The "call" in there being the odd word out. The fight overall flowed very well however, from the monster and door to the sprinklers to Martin teleporting away.
The second battle post was much like the first, though things began much more quickly. The death of Rrrr and Ged's reaction were both good, and the battle really became quite intense towards the end. I tell you, I wasn't a fan towards Ion's hallucinations earlier, but the imagery of Ged with a sword turning into a doctor with a scalpel won me over. I'm surprised you didn't bring the duel back around to Ion trying to teleport off the ship, or failing that, tell Station 3 to destroy it. Perhaps you were saving that.
This is really a close call. Your intros were quite equal, with finalfight's focusing more on dialogue and entertainment, while Tseng_Eclipse did more straight-forward scene setting. The first battle posts were again at about the same level, with maybe finalfight coming out slightly ahead. For the second battle however, I'm going to have say that Tseng_Eclipse came out as the victor, and thus wins the duel.
You both wrote very high quality posts, and I was entertained the whole way. Congrats to both of you
Jan 19, 12 at 3:26pm ^re: Tseng_Eclipse vs finalfight (No One Will Hear You Scream)
Blood, far too much blood for a single person, went everywhere as the metal plating that had once been the ceiling came down straight on Ged’s head. Ion pulled himself away from the wreckage of the corridor, his bleeding leg now also sporting a badly twisted ankle for his pains.
“You alright, sir?” the sergeant asked. Ion held up a hand as it became apparent that he wanted to approach, still not convinced of Ged’s death despite the horrendous physical trauma he’d just suffered. For one, the blood seemed to be moving, although he was under no illusions of his current mental state.
“Find the shuttles,” he suggested to them, running the back of his hand over his good eye in an attempt to clear some of the blood and gore from his face. His eyes went briefly blank as he scanned the ship with his Web, looking for any more survivors. One or two. Not enough.
Find the shuttles, he repeated mentally, his command ringing out across the ship. One of the soldiers, the one with the most traumatised look on his face, shivered as the command hit him, but Ion did not have the time to be feeling guilty.
“Diaz will-” the sergeant began, much to Diaz’ dismay, but Ion waved his hand in dismissal.
“I will be fine. Attempting to take me from the shuttle the conventional way will only slow you down,” he informed them, twisting his wrist to show them the teleporter-linked wristband. The sergeant nodded, although from his grim expression it didn’t look like he thought Ion would survive.
“Let’s go,” he told his now-smaller group of soldiers, one of whom put a bullet between the eyes of a stray zombie before they moved off down the corridor, presumably towards the shuttles. Ion didn’t know where he was in the ship, much less where any escape route might have been located relative to him, but he didn’t doubt that they would be able to find a way out.
The blood was definitely moving.
He reached for one of the bony legs, realising now that it looked enough like a rib to disgust him, and pulled it across the floor until it was next to him. He gritted his teeth at the sound of bone scraping on metal, then found a relatively dry spot in the floor to lodge the end of it against and hauled himself up. The rib-leg took the weight of his injured leg, although barely, and the sole of his other foot was still slick with blood and gore from the carnage that he had helped to wreak.
With a spark of web-lights, despite his swiftly bruising hand, he pulled a second of the legs towards him, just in case. The corpses of the soldiers, in varying states of disrepair, lay at horrible angles on the floor and against the walls. A couple of the more animate ones twitched a little, but the only sound was the distant echo of boots on metal and the quiet, steady dripping of what was mostly blood.
Ion tracked the movement of the soldiers with his web and the movement of the blood with his eyes. Carefully, picking his way around the slick of innards that had caused his first fall and the twisted metal that was the remnants of the ceiling, he made his way over to the control panel Martin had been stood at. It seemed like it had been a long time, but realistically it couldn’t have been much more than a few minutes.
Most of the screen showed the ship’s innards, the control network, a plan outlined in green and a lot of diagrams Ion didn’t understand without taking quite some time to study them. He was becoming more and more certain that time was something he didn’t have, so with his free hand he brought up the screen hiding in the bottom right hand corner, the data link to Station 3. Onto that, with his right hand, he slowly typed into it, one painful letter at a time. The arms of the Cross threatened to hit keys for him, so he had to angle his wrist uncomfortably to do it.
Immortalis lost.He didn’t immediately hit the relay button, as much as he wanted to. He wasn’t certain that it was lost, just yet, and there were still a few stragglers running through the ship. If Ged didn’t make a reappearance soon, he would leave it, but it couldn’t be that easy. It had never been that easy.
One of the more active corpses continued to twitch, and Ion watched it as it began to absorb the blood. There were still people on the ship, although his hand hovered over the relay button.
“Well,” Ged’s unmistakable voice began, as the features of the dead man morphed to match the necromancer’s. Watching it left Ion feeling faintly disgusted, although he knew he shouldn’t have expected much better from black magic. “You seem to have put a stop to most of our playmates. That’s a shame,” he remarked. Ion’s tags on the living were becoming stretched, so he gave up attempting to track them entirely and pressed his fingers down on the button. The screen blinked and flashed, indicating that his message had been sent. He watched the thorned staff appear in Ged’s hands, more than full on the blood that covered the corridor.
“Perhaps not the phrase I would use,” Ion responded, which only made Ged smirk. A frown flickered briefly on the necromancer’s face as his eyes went to the screen above Ion, his eyes becoming deep black before resting back on Ion and fading back into dark blue.
Ion was still surprised it was not the colour of blood.
“Still, I think we can have some fun with just us three,” Ged decided, and it was Ion’s turn to frown.
A message from Station 3. Ion typed a response as Ged raised his staff, the blood fire burning black on it once more.
Fire weapons.Ion smiled, which was enough to make Ged pause in his assault.
“Find someone else to play with,” he suggested, and pressed the button on his wristband, not looking to see if it was working or not. It was too late for him to take back the order if it wasn’t, regardless.
He fancied he heard the beginnings of the ship’s destruction as he blinked out, but he didn’t dwell on it. He’d saved all those he could.
Never mind that everyone else had only died to bring him there to begin with.
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