[PRP/BATT] One more time (Muerte & Stryke)

[Melancholies]

 

[Melancholies]

Time after the festival meant a surprising amount of silence. The wake after a storm, so to speak. There wasn't a whole lot of activity around the village, or maybe it just meant there was finally a routine being formed and everything fell into the new normalcy. Either way, things were healing, trolls were healing.

Muerte tapped a pen to his check board idly. There had been, as he'd come to find out, a surprising number of members in the Initiative that were... well, gifted. Psionic users abound; Muerte wouldn't have batted an eye usually, save for the trend he saw through them. Hours and hours of reading documents provided by one, ah, head of intelligence shed some light on the bizarre phenomenons. Born with these powers, perhaps, but the majority of trolls here had woken to them late. It was curious and peculiar and gave Muerte something new to fixate one.

First on the list had been one Stryke Nvrmor. He'd only heard of the power second hand of course, but that didn't mean he could look into it more on his own. The newly completed hive was still lacking as far as furniture was concerned, but it had the bare necessities. The lab was spacious but notably empty, but it was better left that way for what he had in mind.

As it was, he sent a simple invitation to the yellowblood downstairs for nothing more than an innocent check up. Though it had happened quite a while back, most if not all of the PI members suffered injuries from their treks through the swamp, and Stryke was no exception. He'd spoken with the troll once before, cleaned his leg from the shrapnel still left there, and sent him on his way. Though the wound was more than likely fully healed by now, he took the excuse to have them rendezvous.

Looking at the simple analogue clock on the wall, Muerte counted the seconds as he fixed the eye patch on his face. Should be any minute now, really.

leon_a_darkangel

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

Memories of the festival still lingered in his mind. Life in the swamp wasn't as bad as Stryke had feared it would be, minus the humidity he felt more at home. His place might have been lacking in a wide variety of furniture, but he'd gotten his essentials and his hive felt like home at least. Stryke had woken up with the coming of darkness, and was out and about early to secure breakfast for the morning. That included foraging and a brief hunting trip, but it wasn't anything the troll hadn't become accustomed too.

Once that was done, he recalled the invitation he'd received earlier but had set on his table to look at later. Going to it now, he realized he'd been invited by the greenblood who lived above his tree-home.

They were all neighbors, this one just happened to live right above him, unlike Byakko, Maneki and Zeffer who were across the walkway less than 10ft away. "it would be rude of me to not attend...essspecially without giving notice." He sighed, smiling with a faint hint of his eyeteeth poking out his lower lip. "i'll be back later, dad." He tossed the white lizard one of the flapping feathered beasts he'd brought back. His last stop was to grab his rucksack, grabbing a jar of tea leaves, his smoking pipe and the box that contained it. All just encase either of them wanted anything to drink while visiting, or he stepped outside while they chatted as smoking inside sometrolls hive was rude. With that, Stryke left behind the crunching sounds as he closed and locked his door.

It was customary for him to bring his daggers with him always. Even if it was in the company of those in the P.I, he still had not forgotten how dangerous life had become. The healed burns on his chest and forearm, the cut on his face...the healed circular scar on his stomach, and the scars from the shrapnel all made it impossible for Stryke to ever forget truthfully. At least trolls were a hardy species he thought as he made his way to the upper levels that lead to Muerte's hive. If he had any doubts about going, it could easily be written off as a simple routine checkup. Although he was in fit physical condition, it wouldn't hurt to check in with him at least he'd decided.

Shifting his weight, he felt uneasy for some reason. The greenblood had always seemed distant if not moody. Although Stryke realized that was like calling a kettle black with all due respects. It wasn't like he was the most chatty, nor social of the bunch either. Smoothing out his messy pony tail, and inhaling a small breath, Stryke knocked on the others door and waited.

He was precisely on time according to the invitation which he still had in his hand. Looking in his pocket, he produced the odd little pocket watch he'd discovered during the swamp madness. It was better to be early, or late he saw it.

Melanch0lies

 

[Melancholies]

Ah.

"Right on time..." he murmured to himself when the knock came through. He lingered a moment before rising to his feet, sliding across the floor to the door much in the way a feline did in a particularly lazy display of action. Not wanting there to be another impatient knock, he unlocked the door (always kept it locked, even in the privacy of teammates), and opened the door.

Honestly, if there was at least one good thing to say about Stryke Nvrmor, it was that he was short. Muerte hated craning his neck up to look at others, especially when he was better than them.

"Well, I suppose being punctual is better than anything." this was his way of saying hello, apparently, as the greenblood stepped aside after the comment to allow Stryke in. Despite the bare bones of the interior, it looked... relatively lived in, if one could consider clutter of bones and feathers and arbitrary "research" (see: nic nacks) items a sign of life. He wasted no time closing the door behind Stryke, leading him down the hall to his lab.

Well, lab was a generous way to put things, scarce looking as it was. "I have a few questions for you, if you wouldn't mind," he paused, then laughed in that sarcastic holier-than-thou way that was undoubtedly Muerte ******** Perist, "Of course you don't. They're very important you see." important to him, perhaps.

"Have a seat." he changed his tune for a moment, pulling up a chair to one of his lab tables as he retrieved his clip board. If stressing Stryke's power into their medium was going to happen, then he needed to catch him off guard, and bringing him to a level of comfort needed to happen first.

leon_a_darkangel

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

Stryke had waited before knocking again, patiently waiting to see if the tap upon the hive's chamber door would be enough. Once it was opened, he was greeted by the sight of a greenblood with a sharp look about him.

One thing to note, they were approximately the same height. Stryke had no need to look up in fact it was a pleasant surprise. "indeed..i alwaysss make a point of being on time if permissible." Stryke responded with a raise of his brow as he followed the other down the hall to another room. The place had a less than lived in feel about it regardless of where he went. It wasn't surprising, most of the hives were still being remodeled across Salamire Outpost.

Just as Stryke went to agree he wouldn't mind answering a few questions the other cut him off with an abrupt laugh. The sound of it was particularly harsh, and the deadpan neutral expression that followed raised the hairs on the back of his neck. A dim yellow and orange flicker of light hazed around him momentarily as he swallowed nervously clearing his throat.

"no..i don't mind." He added in a low mutter more than an actual reply. Eyeing the seat he offered, Stryke settled down into it. His eyes followed the other grabbing his clipboard as he tried to keep calm. He'd seen this troll with Aprife before, surely he wasn't that bad of a troll. "you asssked to see me, so how may i help you?" Stryke asked a little more directly as he glanced him over, waiting to see if he'd introduce himself or if he'd need to first.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Quote:

Muerte did 6 damage!

Muerte tapped his chin for a few moments, taking in Stryke's words, watching his body language. Tense and alert; this was good, very good, excellent for what he needed. He coughed to clear his throat.

"Well, if you could hold still for a moment longer, that would be divine." he turned around to fiddle with something in one of his drawers. "You see, it's a bit of an inquiry about your state of being. Your talents, one could say." he stopped rummaging long enough to cast a lasting glance over his shoulder. "A few things that don't line up with your original records."

He let that sink in for a second. Muerte had a terrible habit of stalling when it came to these sorts of things. There was a reason why his lab was so sparsely cleared though, and it wasn't just because they had meager supplies in the swamp.

Saw in his hand, he immediately whirled on Stryke with as much force and intent as he could muster. Aprife would probably yell at him later for this, but it would be worth it.

Probably.


Quote:
HP: 20/20
Novice Defense Style A (Robo Eye): 2/2

leon_a_darkangel

THIS IS SO LATE AND WHY ARE YOU A MORON TETE

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

The yellowblood's head tilted without really intending to, as if he was gauging the other troll. The first time they'd met he'd been a very small child...and had watched him remove Errade's hand in passing before running. Stryke had never known what exactly to make of Muerte even after all this time.

Hold still...? And what did he mean by his state of being? "a few things..that didn't line up with my original records?" Did he have a file on him? The drawn out pause was evident he was meant to think for himself.

There was no Time to think to deeply however. He saw how he whirled on him. Stryke's eyes widened, the hairs on the back of his neck raised. The younger troll looked positively horrified. "what isss the meaning of this?!" Stryke shook his head, seeing the other coming for him he threw up his hands in his own defense..forgetting about his daggers he instead willed his psionics through the feeling of his arising danger. Clocks one by one appeared, momentarily halting the others assault in place.

When the psionic barrier slowly evaporated, Stryke felt himself take a few steps back..putting distance between he and the suddenly violent doctor. What the hell was this supposed to prove? He had no idea. "...was that supposssed to be a...test?" He asked with a cynical tone to his voice.


HP: 20/20
DMG: 0 DMG
Power: Novice Defensive - Style B: 1/1 - Used! Nulled 6 damage.
Artifact: Novice Offensive A (Pocket Watch) - 2/2

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Quote:

Muerte did 4 damage!

Muerte swung and suddenly his world stopped. Or well, not completely; it felt as if the air became suddenly viscous, his mind stopping while his body took over in something completely visceral. Everything slowed. He could see the sparks of yellow and vague malformed shapes of clocks and time turned physical.

Then the world caught up from it's sudden forced lag, his eyes wild and wide with instinct and frenzy. He was engulfed in a rush. "Bravo!" He cackled like he was genuinely enjoying himself. It wasn't just the display of his powers, but the direct involvement in them too. His mind was racing with possibilities; if he could force trigger this sort of ability in other trolls, it would be a far better—far more complex machine. He could create gods.

"A marvelous power brought on by the stress of the situation. A latent ability developed in the thickness of battle. A reaction to do or die—the split second decision to pick live." He circled Stryke like a vulture, "What did it feel like when your power emerged for the first time, I wonder?"

He didn't answer any of Stryke's questions before swinging again.


Quote:
HP: 20/20
Novice Defense Style A (Robo Eye): 2/2

leon_a_darkangel

stop this maniac

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

Using his psionics was always a learning experience it seemed. Especially given how they were reactionary based with the frequency and intensity. In truth Stryke was still getting the hang of everything. The yellowblood watched the way the other was forced to stop moving, temporarily desyncing him momentarily with the rest of the world. Seeing the way the greenblood looked wild eyed and feral Stryke wasn't sure what to think. It was like he was a feral creature really that had discovered some kind of revelation.

"high stresss and nearly dying..i was very close to the point of no return. yesss." He added glancing away, hinting at what had brought on the change. The way the other was circling him made the yellowblood extremely uncomfortable.

"the first time..? it was unusual..i'd never even thought about psionic's until that night in the swamp when they first --- w..why are you still attacking!" Stryke hissed as the other swung at him, leaving no time to ask questions. This time he didn't have the energy to stop him like he had previously. The sting of his weapon hit home. Stryke wasted no further time, his daggers came from their sheaths as he swung back at Muerte defensively swiping at him with either dagger held firmly in hand.

HP: 16/20
DMG: 3 DMG (2+1 from weapon)
Power: Novice Defensive - Style B: 1/1
Artifact: Novice Offensive A (Pocket Watch) - 2/2

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Quote:

Muerte did 5 damage!

"Fascinating." He practically purred.

Stryke slashed back, which was to be expected. A nick on his arm didn't mean much; the tear in his coat mattered more than the blemish to his skin at this point. His perfect body had already been marred beyond redemption, what with his lip, the scarring around his eye.

"I want to watch you do it again." He sounded blithe as his saw swung again. "And again. And again." His hand snapped up to his face, the eye patch being discarded swiftly. A robotic eye whrred to life underneath.


Quote:
HP: 17/20
Novice Defense Style A (Robo Eye): 2/2

leon_a_darkangel

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

Stryke's eyes widened the way he responded. There was something about his tone, and the way the word 'fascinating' rolled off his tongue that sent shivers down his spine. There was a moment of sheer panic that filled Stryke. The other didn't back off when he slashed at him again. It wasn't like he hadn't been cut, burned or injured before. His face had a scar, his neck, chest, and shoulder had burned in the fire. Not to mention the impale from the bolt into his stomach, the shot to his shoulder, or the shotgun to his hip...he had a sizeable list in all fairness.

However. That didn't mean he wanted to stick around and let the greenblood simply do as he pleased. "w..what?! no! back off this isssn't a game!" He hated the fact he sounded scared it was annoying. In fact, the other seemed to enter a frenzied state as he spoke up and repeated himself.

The sudden removal of the eye patch he'd seen the other with brought a surprised expression to Ryk's face. He even blinked, unsure what to think. He had a prosthetic eye. "what..happened to you?" He asked despite the danger he was in. The sound of it made the hairs on the back of the yellowblood's neck stand on end.

HP: 11/20
DMG: 0 DMG
Power: Novice Defensive - Style B: 1/1
Artifact: Novice Offensive A (Pocket Watch) - 2/2

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Quote:

Muerte did 0 damage!

Muerte seemed to, for the moment, back off. It still didn't stop him from putting himself between Stryke and the door; it was clear that if the yellowblood wanted to leave, he'd have to put up a good fight for it.

"Did I ever imply it was?" He sounded confused for a second, as if the things Stryke was saying were utterly incomprehensible. "Nothing is ever a game, not in this shitstain colony of a swamp."

His saw was raised again, "Leave the wondering to the professionals. Now then... Let's see that again..."

When he swung again, he feinted to the side at the last moment instead.


Quote:
HP: 17/20
Novice Defense Style A (Robo Eye): 2/2

leon_a_darkangel

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

Stryke had moved for the door, only to watch as Muerte put himself between it and the exit. Without thinking he reached for his favorite pocket watch, the very one he had found on his run through the swamp. It was strange, in that if wound just right it fired off a controlled beam of energy. He had discovered by accident it was no mere pocket watch. This by all rights as far as he could tell was an artifact of some kind. Its energy never ran out, but it did work on a timer and only worked so many times at any given time and point.

"no..nothing that has to do with our people is...you are right." He glared all the same, angry the other insisted on making this difficult. Stryke wanted to leave, not feel trapped and observed by the other. Clicking the pocket watch open, he took aim. "i warned you...let me go muerte." A faint glowing outline of Stryke's powers had shown themselves at the others feigning a hit. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, alerted to the very real danger he was in.

His powers couldn't manifest, it was obvious his body was tired from the usage of the power. "i..i can't...i've never tried to use my psionics in quick succession!" Stryke had a lot to learn about his new powers, controlling them wasn't second nature.

However, this item he had in hand he least could control. WOOOOM. The light from the watch went off, the bright yellow light roared to life as he fired his warning shot at the greenblood.

HP: 11/20
DMG: 6 DMG
Power: Novice Defensive - Style B: 1/1
Artifact: Novice Offensive A (Pocket Watch) - 1/2 - One charge used

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Quote:

Muerte did 1 damage!
Using Defense Artifact! -2 damage. Damage taken = 4

The real use of his eye made itself known in that split moment. It whirred and whirred, watching the crackling of Stryke's exhausted powers, but it was doing something else too--it was learning, absorbing, analyzing data faster than his brain could. He was memorizing Stryke's gait, the way he moved, the small nuances in his step, and he side stepped at just the right moment--

Now, the device Stryke had was still a surprise. Muerte hissed as a burst of energy singed his coat, but there was still something playing at his lips. "You really are full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Let me see that watch too, when we're done. I'd love to study it."

Coat apparently deemed too dirty to wear for the moment, the greenblood tore it off and tossed it at Stryke. It was just a distraction; he'd have to find better vantage point. It'd be a shame if Stryke was unable to trigger his power again...


Quote:
HP: 13/20
Novice Defense Style A (Robo Eye): 1/2 (One charge used)

leon_a_darkangel

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

Noting the way he watched his movements and how the metal eye tracked him was almost eerie really.

"ah...yesss.. i do try and keep a few tricks up my sleeve." Sweat trickled down the yellowbloods temple. He adjusted his stance as it debating how to follow up his next move.

Startled by the sudden rustle of the coat being tossed at him, Stryke yelped in dismay. The click sound of his fumbling with his watch went off firing another concentrated beam. "...it is sssomething i found.. i would rather not part with it. you can look...but.." He remarked, his tone was possessive as he shook his head. He didn't trust the greenblood, not yet anyway.

Especially after the last few moments exchanged between them.

HP: 10/20
DMG: 6 DMG
Power: Novice Defensive - Style B: 1/1
Artifact: Novice Offensive A (Pocket Watch) - 0/2 - Last charge used!

Melancholies.