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 Posted: Fri Jul 15, 2016 6:48 pm
PROLOGUE
The realm had become a desolate and terrifying place ever since the day the billowing black fog came down from the skies.
It had come to be known as The Devouring Dark, an inky miasma that seemed to have a sentient intelligence and sinister goals. At first, it was innocuous enough; just an average, albeit thicker and darker-hued, fog spreading out over an open field in some distant land early one morning. The folk in the nearby hamlet of Knell weren't too concerned by the occurrence...though if they had known what nightmares would soon befall them, they'd surely have run as far and as fast as their legs would carry them.
The day the foul mist rolled up to the outskirts of the small township, people began to go missing. A farmer leaving town to take his crop to market in a bigger city, a pair of young lovers seeking the privacy of the forest. Even a group of children headed out to the river for a day of swimming and merriment. All of them and plenty more went off into the lightless haze, and not a single one returned. It wasn't until the children didn't come home to their parents that evening that the townsfolk decided to organize a search party.
By the following morning they hadn't come back, either.
Alarm spread throughout the burg. Understandably, one question was on everyone's minds: What could have happened to all those missing people? Animal attacks? Bandits? Or had they simply lost their way in the strange murk?
It wasn't until several days later, when the shadowy brume slipped into the town itself that the horrifying truth would come to light.
One chill evening, amid a symphony of distant echoes carrying the sounds of agonized children's screams and the ecstasies of women, the missing men finally returned...if one could still call them men. Now they walked slowly with a stiff gait, always twitching. Their faces were such that most couldn't bear to look upon them, with eyes that were pale and lifeless, and lips curled back in the unsettling smile of the long-dead. They appeared severely emaciated and the skin of their hands was drawn so tightly that the bones beneath often tore through their fingertips like gruesome claws. To the untrained eye, it was as if some foul necromancy had taken hold of the men...but the people of Knell knew better. Somehow they just knew it was the eerie fog that had come down upon their home, but by then it was too late. Details concerning what exactly happened to the rest of the townsfolk are vague at best.
In the ages that passed since those fateful days, Knell was largely forgotten as the entire world was overwhelmed by The Devouring Dark. Certainly there were brave souls that tried their hardest to discern the true nature of the menace and how it could be stopped. After all, something must be able to halt the heady gloom. Everyone from alchemists to sorcerers to clerics tried their hand, but in the end they were all consumed.
Now, only one known bastion of life remains: Autumncrowne, a once sprawling and prosperous capital now fallen into ruin and despair. The high walls and thick gates keep out The Devouring Dark whenever the black smog rolls near. Still, a portion of the city guard is always on the heights of the bulwark, ever watchful.
They and the citizens they are sworn to protect have little hope left, so they just wait. They wait for the clearest of days to leave the safety of the city wall and forage for what little supplies they can, but resources still dwindle. They wait for a bright day when their woes will end and the evil that has ravaged their lands will go back from whence it came. They wait for a miracle to save them.
But in the back of their minds, in the deepest recesses of their hearts, they know they are really only waiting for a day when the darkness will rise up and devour them as well.
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Posted: Mon Jul 25, 2016 10:46 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 25, 2016 10:47 am
"As long as she has all of her holes intact and they work, the client isn't really too picky." the minotaur with the broken horn said and shrugged. "Gods, G'nick... You know I hate the flesh trade." "Hey, I don't come up with the work. I just pass it along to parties who might be interested in a cut of the payoff." G'nick replied disarmingly, setting aside the assault rifle he'd been cleaning. "So you an interested party or not?" Morg made a sour face and looked around the decrepit warehouse, considering his options. It had been a while since anything decent had come down the pipe, and he was hurting for money in a pretty bad way. Being a hulking orc with plenty of battle scars marking up skin the color of dried blood was great for keeping the average person at bay, but it also kept all but the most bold souls from seeking him out for employment. Not that your average person was seeking out guns for hire, but still. With resources and supplies as hard to come by as they were, even the price of a soda had gotten ridiculous lately. G'nick had him backed into a corner, and he knew it. The flesh trade was a dark business, but it was getting more and more prominent in the underground markets of Autumncrowne as fertile young women became rarer than a sturdy winter jacket. Decades of predominantly male births had lead the decision makers of the city to put a halt on natural conception, turning their attention instead to artificial pregnancy and cloning. By the time they'd realized that anyone created that way was born completely sterile, most of the women left in the city were too old to bear children anymore. Autumncrowne, hailed as the last bastion of life in the world, was dying. "So, how exactly am I supposed to tell if a girl has all of her holes intact?" Morg asked with a nod of submission. "Guess you'll just have to get more than your hands dirty, this go 'round!" G'nick said breaking into a toothy grin. Morg rolled his eyes, but couldn't hide a small smirk of his own. The Dragon's Horde. The acrid scent of opiates and booze tainted the air of the parlor. It was a lavish place, or as lavish as places could be in a city like Autumncrowne; plush furniture, a lot of heavy curtains, and low lighting provided by a fireplace and some wall sconces. Enough faux to cover up the decay of the structure beneath, anyway. It would have seemed a tasteful establishment, if not for all of the completely tasteless acts of erotic deviance that Morg now found himself surrounded by. Maybe he was too old-fashioned for the world he was living in, but the whole setting made him distinctly uncomfortable. A lot of businesses in the city had done very well putting on skin shows, but this particular place offered something a little more than most. It was run by the notorious Jo Sapphire, an azure-scaled reptilian woman who also had a "little more" to offer than most. She currently had that little more hilted down the throat of one of the place's scantily clad dancers, and her impressive bust was just barely hidden by a silky purple slip of a robe that threatened to abandon her shoulders altogether if she breathed too hard. Jo raked back her thick raven hair and let out a low growl as the girl, a voluptuous elf, began to slowly ride her with her face. All while Morg sat there, having a meeting with the proprietor. Very uncomfortable. He did his best to keep his gaze elevated. "So, you're looking to buy some meat to ********." Jo murmured, not exactly a question. "I am...in the market for a lady. Yes." Morg said, adjusting the jacket and tie of the ridiculous monkey suit he had donned for his little mission; his usual leathers and Kevlar would have been a dead giveaway that he wasn't there on general business. "Ha! No ladies to be had here, friend." "Well, ah...maybe someone that a guy could see himself, y'know...having a family with?" Jo's eyes narrowed and her snake-like tongue flicked out from between her lips a few times. "Oh...? A family, you say?" Morg adjusted his thick glasses and gave Jo a nervous smile. "You are aware that most women you'll find can't exactly fulfill on that, yes?" Jo said, absently running her claws through the hair of the elf girl that was servicing her. "And what about the women that you find, Miss Sapphire?" Morg shot back with a little more confidence. Jo stared into Morg's eyes. A long silence, aside from the muted slurps and little moans of the dancer, fell between them. He started thinking maybe he'd gone about things the wrong way. The automatic pistol strapped to his lower back started to feel heavier with each passing second. He felt his hand twitch ever so slightly. After a while Jo leaned forward a bit and spoke. "Aye. I may be able to - Nnngh!" Jo began, but she suddenly tensed up and her brow knotted. That wasn't the only thing that knotted apparently, judging from the way the elf arched her back and took a deep breath, planting her lips as close to Jo's abdomen as she could get them. The girl certainly knew what she was doing; somehow she managed to keep breathing despite the growing lump in her throat. She also started swallowing. Loudly, like someone trying to win a chugging contest. Morg did his best not to watch and after a moment Jo shivered and hissed in satisfaction, stroking the elf's cheek. "Ahhhhh, that's lovely pet." she whispered. Another few moments passed and the guttural swallowing noises dissipated. The elf's neck began to shrink back down, and finally Jo slid from her throat with another hiss. Morg couldn't help but stare now, for the girl hadn't missed a single drop. She rolled to the side and sat on her heels. Her belly was distended, and not just from the copious fluid she'd taken in; there were large oblong bumps all across its surface. She traced a finger along them, obviously pleased with herself. Jo followed Morg's stare and chuckled. "Eggs. Can't say what it is about my juice that does it, but every time I sow some into a girl...they swell up with a whole clutch of the bloody things! They're never fertile, mind you. Gods, imagine how rich I'd be if they were! But they do make for a hearty breakfast in the scarce times! Just one of the many ways you can have me inside you. If you catch my drift." Jo stood up and rolled her hips without shame, giving Morg a coy wink. He managed to keep his composure and shook his head. He cleared his throat. "Thanks, but that wouldn't do much for me..." he said. "Well that makes one of us, handsome." Jo purred and let her eyes undress him. She made the tiniest sound of disappointment and then blinked away the interruption to their previous conversation. "Anyway, as I was saying before: I'm sure we can work something out. If you'll just follow me...?" The lizard woman turned on her heel and began to walk...no, sashay away. From the back she was one of the lovelier creatures in The Dragon's Horde, but Morg already knew better and her kind were not to his taste. Besides, that was a far cry from why he was there in the first place; he just needed to find a suitably attractive girl that could breed and deliver her to the client on time. It left an ache in his stomach to think of a person as an object, but the situation was what it was. More than anything Morg just wanted to get this all over with so that he could get paid, put it behind him, and go back to pretending he was something better than what he really was: a monster. To that end he stood, gave another glance to the elf still basking in the afterglow of her ministrations, and then followed Jo through a door at the back of the room.
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Posted: Mon Jul 25, 2016 12:22 pm
((I'll keep with my cat burglar for now, I named her Akira on a whim but given her rogue nature that might be a fake one if I come up with something better xD but found some good looking pictures to use as references, so here is her outfit ( https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/8d/91/73/8d9173de55c5fae7f9d97c0bc5f36e12.jpg ) and here she more laid back, I really liked the hair style and the cyborg arm of this one so just imagine that mech arm is covered more by that long glove in the first picture ( https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/ee/00/33/ee0033f462e97bdfccd33311ee4c05c0.jpg ) Despite the cities dwindling supplies, the city elite still lived in great opulence, surrounded by riches unknown to the common folk. Akira makes a living stealing these things and re-purposing them for herself or if the objects are worth enough, holding them ransom till their owners pay up. Still the young human female lived simply, hiding out among the other misfits and thugs of city, moving from place to place when needed, her only possesions being what she carried on her back. Capable of holding her own as good as any of the males thugs, Akira was waiting for the one heist that would get her out of this place and into one of the high rise buildings across the city. Suiting its title, The Dragon's Horde was a common playground for some of the cities most well off citizens. Making it likewise a cash cow for pickpockets and scoundrels like herself. Keeping to the shadows, her dark black clothing allowing her to blend in almost anywhere, Akira scanned the crowd of people waiting to get inside as she sought out her first victim of the night. Picking pockets wasn't particularly profitable but it was easy to do and next to impossible to trace back to her thanks to the fact that she no fingerprints to leave. It had been a painful process but worth in the long run as her deft hands could now work unhindered by gloves. Seeing nobody of outright interest, Akira abandoned her current hiding spot and dashed across the street, nothing more than a black blur in the pulsing night club lights. Spotting one of the night club bouncers smoking a cigarette out back, she paused. As the large rhino-like man lazily flicked the cigarette butt into a nearby puddle, he slowly turned back towards the club and scanner that let him in the rear door. Creeping up behind the bouncer, Akira deftly caught the door and let herself in a couple steps behind him, looking like an extension to his own shadow.
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Posted: Fri Aug 05, 2016 10:55 am
((Awesomeness! I don't really have any references for Morg, but I might try to sketch something up one of these days! Also, sorry for the delay; this was certainly a labor of love! Lots of ground to cover! Hope you enjoy!)) Morg was getting more and more uncomfortable the lower the freight elevator went. He knew he was already pretty far underground, and that meant fewer exits. It also meant no signal for his cellular implant, which meant no way to call for help. Not that any of that really worried a guy like him, but it was always nice to know you had a door to your back instead of a wall. Jo had propped herself up against the rail on the opposite side of the platform, lounging seductively. She stared right at Morg like he was the highlight of a buffet. Her tongue flicked out regularly in time with Morg's breathing. "I assume you have plenty of coin, or you wouldn't have come asking for something like this." Jo said flatly. Morg allowed himself a small grin and held out his left wrist, palm up. Jo took a pair of glasses from the pocket of her robe and put them on. She touched her finger to the side of them, glanced at Morg's wrist, and they flickered red for the briefest second. There was a light chirp, and then faint green images and text scrolled across the inside of the lenses. Jo's eyes widened and she whistled, placing the glasses back in her pocket. "High roller." she said with a nod of approval. Right to the money. Good. At least she wasn't savvy enough to do much more questioning because while a fake bank roll was easy enough to pull off, the highly-advanced digital identification systems of the age were much more difficult to work around. The elevator finally ground to a stop. Jo slipped past Morg and crooked a finger at him to follow. She led him through a doorway and down a ramp, crossing a corrugated bridge that spanned a lightless chasm below. A few dimly-lit hallways later, they came to a stop outside a heavy metal door. "You prepared for this, big guy?" Jo asked with a mischievous grin. Morg took a deep breath and loosened his tie. Jo chuckled as she held up her wrist to the door. There was a blaring screech and the door began to slide up out of the way. As soon as the seal along the floor was broken, loud music echoed out into the hall. Beyond was a massive cavern webbed by scaffolding and cranes and service elevators...and cages. Stacks upon stacks of cages, each home to some poor soul that was desperately crying out for help. It seemed like every gender of every race of every walk of life was represented. Here was a noble centaur getting whipped until he bled, and there was a dark-furred woman with feline features being plowed in her every orifice. Those were the more tame displays. All were prisoners meant to be sold for the pleasure of the highest bidder. It was like a supermarket for the flesh trade, and it made Morg angry. He kept his expression blank, but inside he was boiling over with rage. Life was something special in this world, and none should be enslaved for the amusement of another. Maybe it was an odd stance for someone like Morg to take, given his profession; usually when he worked a job, people got hurt. Sometimes worse. But those people had abused their lives and brought ruin to those of others in the process. If anyone deserved that fate, it was them. Jo led on down the main aisle between the cages, a sort of street lined with stocks and stalls all filled with slaves tended by their slavers. There were a great many prospective buyers about as well. They were mostly fat older men of human descent, the wealthiest and most privileged of Autumncrowne's residents. Jo looked it all over with pride as they passed. "A grand operation, no? Of course, I always get first pick of the runs, and I usually keep the best for myself..." Jo said with a wicked over-the-shoulder glance. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather just get to what I'm here for." Morg replied tightly. "Soon enough." A building with a large window across the front of it had been fashioned atop some of the scaffolding on the other side of the cavern, obviously a control center for the whole operation. That was their destination, and it was guarded by unusually large and burly creatures in thick dark armor with heavy guns; Ogres. At least ten of them that Morg could see, some by the elevator leading up into the building and some on sentry towers nearby. That complicated things significantly. Ogres were hardy enough foes without armor and the knowledge of how to use firearms. Two of the beasts by the elevator snorted and stood aside when Jo approached. They gave Morg a wary look, and he could tell they were trying to get a nose full of his scent. It would make it much harder for him to lose them in the chaos of the cave if he tried anything and made a break for it. Smarter than your average monster, these ogres. They'd been trained surprisingly well. The ride up into the building was much shorter than the one down to the cavern. At the top was the large room behind the window. It had many holo-terminals, mostly for crane controls it seemed, all being monitored by leather-clad kobolds. The diminutive lizard-folk were fast about their work, scurrying here and there to tap a hologram or flip a toggle. Say what you will about Jo Sapphire, she runs a tight ship. The back of the room opened onto the wall of the cavern and a single door set in the center of it. Jo let Morg linger for a short while and then led him over to the door. Again she held out her wrist, and again there was a ringing before the door slid up and out of the way. Morg followed her through into a long hall lined with sturdy metal doors. They had small windows set in them at eye level, and markings in what looked like lipstick that read vulgarities like "Multi-cocked Stud" or "Glow-in-the-Dark c**." Prison cells. More cages. Sure, they were fancier than the ones outside, but they were still cages. Jo stopped and leaned against the wall just past a door that had "Breeders" written on it in a trashy shade of pink. "Ok then, Daddy. Ready to pick our your future baby mamma?" Jo asked, waving her wrist in front of the door. With another chime and a whoosh as the door slid open, Morg stepped inside. The room was about the size of a studio apartment, if a studio apartment had prison furnishings. There was a cushioned bench along one wall, three cots along another, and what looked like bathroom fixtures at the back behind a sheer curtain. Someone was showering back there from the sound of the running water, though the lack of steam suggested it was very cold. There was only one other person in the room, a very fit-looking young woman with short black hair, skin just a shade too red to be human, and the faintest beginnings of dark horns on her forehead. She was busy doing push-ups off of the bench when Jo stepped into the room behind Morg. "Alright, ladies! Front and center! You've got a gentleman caller!" Jo bellowed. The girl doing push-ups hardly slowed down, but there was a meek gasp from the back of the room and the water turned off. An obviously Elven head poked out from behind the curtain, green eyes wide and cheeks blushing deeply. Jo wasn't satisfied with the reaction she'd gotten. She stepped over to the red-skinned girl and gave her a hard slap across the a**. "You heard me, Frihs. Don't be a little b***h about this..." Jo said. The girl, Frihs, stiffened when she was slapped. She took a deep breath and then stood up, facing Jo. Turned out she was much taller than her reptilian captor. Maybe just a head shorter than Morg, and that was saying something. She crossed her arms and stared Jo down, which seemed to amuse Jo more than alarm her. "That's better." Jo hissed, and then she turned her attention to the other girl. "You too, Fa'hra. Get out here." The elf ducked back behind the curtain and hastily fumbled around for a moment. She eventually shuffled out, bent forward awkwardly to hide her nudity behind a small towel. Very modest. It was kind of cute. Jo still seemed perturbed by the women's general reluctance, but she looked at Morg with a grin. "So? What do ya think?" she asked. Morg nodded at the two women politely and then cleared his throat, leaning over to Jo. He spoke under his breath. "Well, how do I know that these two are, ah...able to bear children?" The horned girl apparently picked up on what he said, because she shot him a look and spoke up. "Fa'hra is my Daughter." "I see. So, you...?" Morg began. "Cooked her right here in this oven. Yup." she said, patting her stomach. "I'm sure you're also wondering why we don't exactly favor." Morg looked between the two of them and raised a brow in agreement. Frihs continued. "Half of my blood may be what you'd call fiend-touched, but my Mother was an elf. So was Fa'hra's Father. I guess she just lucked out and took after him. Go figure." Morg nodded, and then inclined his head toward Fa'hra. "And...her?" Frihs spoke to her Daughter but never took her eyes off of Morg. "Go on, honey. Show him." The young elf looked positively mortified, but the glare Jo was giving her was enough to turn someone to stone. She bit her lip and closed her eyes tightly, dropping the towel. Her pose remained unsure as she straightened up, revealing a noticeable swell to her belly. One of her hands nervously found its way to the underside of it, the other brushing her chestnut hair back behind one pointed ear. "Oh." Morg said breathlessly. "If it please you, Sir...may I...erm...?" Fa'hra asked, barely above a whisper. She gestured to the towel on the floor. Her eyes were open now, but they didn't meet Morg's gaze. "Yes. Yes, of course." Morg replied, blinking the surprise away. He looked at Jo. "Mind if I have a word with you? Privately." Jo's eyes sparkled and she smiled. She left the room without a word. Morg watched her go, then gave Frihs and Fa'hra a look. Frihs narrowed her eyes and Fa'hra shifted uneasily. He wasn't sure exactly what they saw reflected on his face, but he hoped it was something they could trust. The contract no longer mattered to Morg. These women were the living, breathing bearers of a very rare gift. Veritable goddesses that had the ability to help a dying world, whether they understood that responsibility or not...and they should be free to make such a decision for themselves. At the very least they might be able to sire a fresh new bloodline into Autumncrowne that could one day flourish into much more. They were also people, not property. Morg had seen enough slaves for a lifetime and then some. He couldn't just sit idly by and let it lie, money be damned. There would always be another job, another payment. But the times in life when you got the chance to do something that really made a difference in the world were few enough to count with two hands...and Morg knew he was running out of fingers to count on. So he made a decision. He would make sure they were both freed this night, and as many other slaves as he could with them. Or he would die trying.
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Posted: Fri Aug 05, 2016 3:29 pm
(We gotta work on breaking these crazy posts of yours up into paragraphs, hurts the eyes staring at wall of text long enough to read them all xD Also Morg is running further and further away, no way Akira would be able to get to where he is now.) Keeping to the many shadows offered by the club's interior, Akira separated from the bouncer she had followed in. Once hidden she slowly settled in for a long night of watching the various woman of every race extort her body for money. But it wasn't a total loss... with the clients otherwise distracted, her hands were free to loot their pockets of more valuable things that were easily misplaced. If she made a reasonable enough haul she would leave a handful of coin for some of the girls as she made her exit. She spotted a large burly but surprisingly well dressed orc get escorted across the room and into the back, but he was gone before she could have reached him. Instead she settled for the larger fatter clients who likely couldn't get a woman without their wallet present.
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Posted: Wed Aug 10, 2016 8:13 am
((Ok, so! I think I figured this out! Again, I apologize for misunderstanding your character and what you were doing! Anyway, I'm taking a couple of movement liberties with Akira in this post, but I'm not going to do anything too crazy. I just need to do something small to reroute the story. You'll see...)) The world became a blur as something snatched at the back of Akira's collar and she was lifted out of her seat. After she'd been jerked around for a moment she was thrown through a doorway and into the back area of The Dragon's Horde. She was finally able to see what was going on, once she had been hoisted up by her top and pinned to a wall. Staring her in the face was the same beast of a guard that she'd snuck in behind, and he looked even less friendly than he usually did. "Thought I told you's if I ever caught ya pickin' pockets in here again, it'd be the last thing ya did as a free girl!" The ogre grumbled. There was suddenly a very pronounced vibration that rattled the entire building. It tapered off quickly. A few gasps from confused patrons could be heard back on the club floor, but the guard just cocked his head for a second. "Da hells...?" he muttered to himself. His eyes went back to Akira and then he dropped her to her feet and clasped a huge hand around the back of her neck, pushing her forward. "Nevermind. Move it, girly!" They moved down the hall a few feet before there was another vibration, this one a little longer than the last. The guard pushed her further through the hallways, hardly taking notice. He stopped her outside of a grated metal door that covered the entrance to a large hole, probably the shaft of some sort of supply elevator. There was a distant metallic grinding, a sign that the elevator platform was on its way up. "That's prolly da boss, now! She's gonna have you's caged so fast..." The guard began with a sickening smile. "Maybe since I'm da one who caught ya, she'll even let me have dibs on breakin' ya in!" He leaned in close enough that Akira could feel the heat coming off of his neck...and then licked her face slowly, savoring the taste. A guttural chuckle followed, his putrid breath making the air nigh unbreathable. The rattle and clanging of the elevator platform arriving finally caused him to stop and glance up. He did a double take. "Sunnuva...!" As the doors slid open, a torrent of people came pouring out of them. Elves, dwarves, anthros, a couple of centaurs, even what looked like a tiefling woman sheltering an elf girl. There were males and females, young and old. It seemed to be a wash of diversity between them all, though one thing united them: they were slaves. Or at least that had been until recently. The ogre, recognizable to them only as a servant of their captor, didn't stand a chance. He tossed Akira to the side just before he was swallowed by the angry mob. He roared in defiance but was cut short as his attackers ripped his throat open. In short order the hallway became empty again as the freed slaves went on their way and left Akira alone with the bloodied corpse of the ogre. There was another rocking vibration, this one much stronger, and now it was clear that they were coming from somewhere down the elevator shaft. Another was fast on its heels. Several lighter ones came next. The smell of burning chemicals filled the air. Moments of the same passed. Then there came a clamorous pounding that echoed through the hall, much closer than the other noises. It seemed as though it was coming from the elevator platform itself, despite there being no passengers left. There was however a kind of maintenance hatch set into its floor, and it began to bulge outward as another volley of pounding started up. Someone, or something, was trying to get through. Eventually the hatch gave way and slammed open, allowing billowing clouds of noxious smoke to pour into the hall. Once her eyes had stopped watering too badly, Akira could see a large silhouette standing before her in the haze. Upon closer inspection it looked like an orc, albeit one of the largest orcs she had ever seen. He had a wild look in his eyes and the skin that shine through his tattered clothing was covered in fresh wounds. One of his arms hung limp and bloodied at his side. Even as haggard as he appeared, he still looked like something out of a nightmare. His eyes met hers. He snarled. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell forward, slamming into the floor with a wet crack. ((See? So I just sort of moved her as part of some NPC business, but I didn't really do anything to her! Feel free to go back and add reactions or whatever, I just thought this was the short and sweet way of putting the story back where we needed to be after our OOC discussion! Ha-ha!))
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Posted: Wed Aug 10, 2016 8:30 pm
(You are more then welcome to scoot her about a little bit as needed, you are holding the reins of this story atm =P ) Having been going along with the ogre waiting for her moment to break free and escape, she was shocked when the moment found her first and her captor was brutally mauled within a couple heartbeats. Thankfully her captors size make him an easy target whereas she was just a unsuspecting human female. Making the most of the moment, Akira's nimble hands looted the dead ogre's body of his cash and bank/ID implant as well as large pistol, a pistol she would have had to wield with two hands were it not for one of her arms being bionic. "Worth holding on for a little bit..." She muttered, throwing the large belt and holster over her shoulder. Hiding beside the ogre's body as the elevator prepared to spit out another surprise, Akira peered over to see what was coming next. Sadly it was just the orc from earlier, minus the nice clothes. Job interview gone wrong maybe? Either way, he looked like the kind to have some cash. Abandoning her hiding place she dashed over to the elevator and pulled the apparently dead orc out by one of his arms. With the smoke and explosions that just rocked the place, she wasnt gonna risk hanging around. Dragging the orc behind some cover, Akira took a knee beside the body and began patting down his body, looking for anything of value. A quiet beeping sounded from around her waist where her robotic companion hid itself as just another belt in her outfit. "I know Hiss, I'll be leaving as soon as I check this guys pockets."
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Posted: Fri Aug 12, 2016 9:02 am
Morg's eyes snapped back open when he felt he was being touched. He lashed out and took hold of the woman's wrist with his wounded arm, growling as blood spattered out across the floor from flexing his exposed muscles. Nonetheless, his grip was strong. "What do you...?" He began, but then he took note of her stance and where her hands had been. He narrowed his eyes. "Thief." Morg let go of her wrist and slid himself up against the wall across from her. He pulled a crushed pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and slid one out between his lips, chuckling weakly. After patting himself down for a second and coming up with no lighter, he threw his head back against the wall and groaned. His breathing was labored and his eyes blinked erratically. "I've got nothing for you to take, little vulture. And thanks to my stunt here tonight, I don't think I'll be coming into any money any time soon..."
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Posted: Fri Aug 12, 2016 4:02 pm
Slightly shocked to discover the orc still alive, little lone alive enough to grapple her for a moment, Akira's mind snaps back into place after being called a vulture. Despite the implied insult, Akira found herself digging the nickname. Perhaps she would pursue a robotic bird creature next... "What kind of money we talking here? Muscle like you must cost a pretty penny..." She asked, hesitating in making her escape. His suit was shredded and his bank band had all the tells of fakes she's swiped over the years. Ducking outta sight for a moment, she returned to the injured orc with another one of the bouncer's bank/ID implants as well as his lighter. "Plenty of money to be had if you know where to look..." She added, tossing the lighter to the orc.
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Posted: Mon Aug 15, 2016 2:21 pm
"Heh. Time was, guys like me were what you might call a hot commodity in battle. But you'd be surprised how cheap people can be, these days. I definitely don't make what I used to. Probably not even as much as the goons working here." he replied, gesturing to the mess of carnage that had been the guard. "Then again, it has been a long time since the last war; an apocalypse tends to make the powers that be want more people alive than dead. The only ones they want dead anymore are...well, guys like me. The living weapons. The old warriors." Morg caught the lighter with his good hand and flicked it to life. He held it to his cigarette and puffed a few times to get the cherry going strong, then he snapped the lighter shut. After he'd taken a couple of deep draws, he eyed the girl again. "Obliged." he muttered, holding the lighter up before pocketing it. Taking another draw on his cig, Morg looked himself over as though for the first time since his little rescue operation. He looked rough. Nothing too deep on his abdomen so he'd live at least, but his arm was going to be another story. He could see a lot of raw muscle...maybe bone. The light wasn't all that great, even if there wasn't so much blood. "Gods-damned ogres..." he said while flexing the fingers on the hand of his bloodied arm experimentally. "It's so much harder to fight something when it's idea of winning includes eating you." He laid his head back against the wall and kept his eyes closed for a long moment. Then he took a final draw on the cig and flicked the butt over into the elevator shaft. He held that breath and then let it out, slowly. His eyelids were heavy as he peered at the girl. "That a biomech graft I felt under the skin of your arm? And your familiar, there...more of the same. You've got some pretty high-end tech for a pick-pocket. Can't imagine you'd lift that kind of coin from a dive like this, even on a good night."
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Posted: Wed Aug 17, 2016 10:50 am
(I figured the mechanical snake was well hidden around her waist pretending to be a belt. But then again, maybe Morg has a trained eye for spotting such things...) "Its amazing what people throw away these days..." Akira says with a shrug. "But no, I don't normally frequent dives like this, they tend to be... biased towards women of a pretty variety... I just happen to be in the area and saw some high roller looking types in line." Its cover blown, Hiss loosened his coils slightly and pulled its head out of Akira's shirt and glared at the prone orc with piercing unblinking mechanical green eyes. "Emergency frequency detected. Estimated time of arrival... ten minutes."
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Posted: Thu Aug 18, 2016 4:25 pm
((I had considered that, which is why I didn't have Morg point Hiss out directly. I figured he heard the beeping and then heard Akira talking to someone, so he put two and two together.)) "It figures, the one night the City Guard actually gives a damn what happens in the slums is tonight." Morg said sourly. He reached into his pocket and produced a small object about the size and shape of a yo-yo. When he pressed his thumb down on top of the flat side, it glowed a bright green color and began to buzz. The thing started to float of its own volition and hovered in front of Morg's face when he lowered his hand. It almost looked curios. Morg pointed toward his bad arm with his chin. "It's the arm, this time." The little device made a blip of understanding and then flew around to Morg's side. It shot out a translucent beam of blue light, scanning his arm. When the light shut off the thing flashed red and made a rapid beeping sound. "Yeah, yeah. I know it's a critical injury, ya stupid Smart Medic! Just...patch up what you can and numb what you can't." Morg growled. The cylinder-shaped machine seemed skeptical, if such a thing was possible. "I'll get it looked at by a pro as soon as I'm in the clear. But if you don't help me now then I won't make it that far, and you can bet your bolts they'll stuff your 'Smart' a** into a dumb trash compactor when they're purging the evidence from this case!" The Smart Medic made another blip noise -thoroughly displeased- and then set to work. It sprouted several spider-like appendages that began applying stitches where they could. Morg's eye twitched with every pierce of his skin. When the little machine finished with that, the arms retracted and were replaced by a flat-headed nozzle. It squirted out a clear gel that coated the majority of Morg's arm, though where the liberal amount of fluid had been stored in such a small machine was anyone's guess. The gel rubberized fairly quick, tightening like a second layer of flesh which drew a grunt from Morg. Finally, the Smart Medic retracted the nozzle and then fired a small green dart into the meat just above Morg's elbow. He hissed in pain, but then the dart blinked a couple of times and his eyes almost immediately dilated. Morg let out a sigh of pure relief. Satisfied with its work, the Smart Medic zipped around and returned to Morg's hand. It deactivated with a blip and then Morg returned it to his pocket. He experimentally flexed his patched up arm. "Gods, that's better." he said, rolling that shoulder back and stretching. He grabbed what was left of his button-down shirt and tore it off as he stood. "Do you have a name, little vulture?" Morg turned his gaze back to the girl, his spirits renewed...for the moment.
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Posted: Thu Aug 18, 2016 5:20 pm
"Fascinating..." Akira mutters, watching the Smart Medic work its medical magic on the injured orc. "Might have been more practical if its programming had introduced the anti-pain meds beforehand..." With him standing now, Akira realized how big the orc was and how small she was beside him. Muscle was an understatement at this point. Superhero or bodybuilder would have been more appropriate... "ETA of emergency unit... six minutes..." Her attention returned by Hiss' quiet announcement, she answered. "As you might guess from my profession, I have many names but vulture or V will do for now. Lets get outta here before anyone comes around looking..." Pocketing her handful of looted ID implants, she nimbly made her way through the shadows towards one of the side exits, her footsteps barely making a sound.
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Posted: Mon Aug 22, 2016 6:38 pm
((Maaaaaan, why you gotta pick on my science? Ha-ha! I actually did put a lot of thought into the process that the Smart Medic uses; if it had used the dart first, then the dart would end up stuck underneath the clear gel...which would be a pain in the a** to remove once the process was finished. But hey, it has to hurt if it's to heal, right?)) Morg grinned and plucked the now-empty dart from his arm, watching the girl vanish down the hallway. She was a spry little thing, and not a bad one to look at. Of course, far more interesting, she had a good head on her shoulders. Rare, that. Knew what she was doing, even if she wasn't the most notorious thief in Autumncrowne. "Alright then, V..." he said, more to himself than anyone else. He started off after her at a jog, though his steps were much heavier and more noticeable. Not that it really mattered to Morg. He'd never been the sneaksy type. That took patience and planning...and a much smaller stature. When they reached the exit door, Morg powered into it and it came crashing open. Sure, V probably had an ID implant on her that would have opened it. But where was the fun in that? Morg blinked for a moment, letting the cool night air wash over him. It gave him pause. He knew he was doped up, and he knew that it was making him careless. He was still hurt badly whether he could feel it or not, and tangling with the ACG at this point wouldn't end well. They needed to evade the authorities, not engage them. Being a severely wounded orc of notably large stature also wouldn't help their odds in that situation. They couldn't use the roads for obvious reasons. Rooftops might be safer, but only until they brought in choppers and that window would close fast once the ground force arrived and saw what happened. Alleyways would be equally useless if they came up on a dead end. Maybe they could pose as some of the escaped slaves that were no doubt running around the area, though they'd ultimately have to answer a lot of questions. Questions with less than appropriate answers. But there had to be a way out. There was always a way out. "Morg! Here!" called a distinctly feminine voice. Morg looked around wildly to find the source of the sudden call. It was the tiefling Frihs, standing up halfway out of the ground. It looked strange at first glance and he worried that maybe he was hallucinating due to the drugs, but then he figured out what was going on; She was in a manhole of some sort, waving him over. Once she saw that he'd noticed, she disappeared back into the ground. Morg glanced behind him at V and beckoned her to follow with a flick of his head. "Sticking with me, kid?" He didn't wait for her to answer. The sounds of sirens rang out from nearby. They'd be surrounded by flashing lights in the next few minutes, so there was no time to waste. He reached the hole Frihs had been in and noted that it wasn't quite a manhole, but rather a service hatch not unlike the one from the elevator. The rust and moss on the door spoke to its rare usage. Regardless, Morg had a hell of a time fitting himself into comparably small opening before he finally got his shoulders through and slipped into the darkness below.
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