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 Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2015 7:52 pm
Black seeped nearly covered the man's flesh now, crystals large and small sprouting along wounds and limbs until his humanity was covered entirely. Power washed over Abbi, his power and hers, if she chose it. Dark energy crackled around the two, building and building until it exploded outward. Several minutes later, Abbi would wake up on the ground, badly cut and horribly singed. There would be no sign of Dr. Stephen beyond the wound at her side and a crystal that cuts into her hand no matter how she holds it.
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Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2015 7:57 pm
The man was already hauling the wounded hunter into the room she'd cleared. Checking his phone, he gave her a wry look. "You're a smart girl. You don't need a lunk like me telling you everything little thing to do." Despite this, he went on, "Find any others you can. Coma wards got a few who weren't pod-compatible. If you find any medkits or like, water? Bring those along too." When she went out, Shu would find her massive hammer tugging her along, here and there, toward what she needed and those who needed her in turn.
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Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2015 8:03 pm
It was actually, the ceiling that gave out first. Lucky's last vision would be that of a gleaming white toilet, barreling toward him from on high. The laptop would not survive. The tome of unstable runes, however, would.
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Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2015 8:06 pm
It was only a matter of minutes before Milo was relieved of his sobbing, increasingly hysterical burden by a stern-faced Death Hunter and sent toward the lab building to continue the rescue efforts.
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Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2015 8:12 pm
It was armor, of all things, that formed around Jack. Darkly shining edges that cut at every touch and repelled at every strike. A helm formed around his face, protecting its lines, as fine and strong as could be. And with every attack it repelled, it closed in tighter around Jack. A powerful, suffocating hand. The helm covered his eyes, but it didn't matter. He knew who was an enemy. Everyone.
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Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2015 8:23 pm
HurricaneDazed, America gently patted at Dawson's back, not understanding really, a thing that had happened. Time was strange and stretched into new shapes. But the boy was crying and she wouldn't let him cry alone. Her other hand moved and bumped against Taym's, she knew without even looking. Fingers sliding weakly she tried to hold his hand and as she did so, the girl remembered. Not all or even most of it. Just enough to know that it was no longer her hand to hold. That I'll come back was met with a box that said don't. She took it anyway, of course. Everything hurt and was loud and confusing when the stern quiet of her aunt's dining room was still so very much in her senses. Leaning into Dawson, America croaked, "Y'll be kay, hun. Sure s'anythin."
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Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2015 8:23 pm
There were lines that Merlin had permeated and crossed before, but in taking Jack for his own it was one too many. Merlin could do any number of things to her; threaten her into a quarantine, barrage her with nightmares, force her to live in fear.
Do whatever you want to Chel, but don't take him.
She left the clone to his devices. The clone could have burned the island for all it mattered as she watched the helmet fall into place, the darkness overwhelm him. The nagging fear was realized; she wasn't enough. Jack wanted power more than reason, more than her. Just because she had been the catalyst didn't mean that she hadn't tried to stop it.
And she was so ******** tired.
Protection surged through her veins and for once she fought back against Merlin's stupid ******** temptations, because all that mattered to her- all that had mattered to her, was her own. The island could blow up in a horseman-sized genocide for all the ******** she gave, the leads all dead and hunters strewn about like carnal Christmas lights. But if she couldn't rescue Jack from Merlin, if she couldn't keep Chris from being cloned, if she couldn't protect them all from her mistakes, it was all ******** pointless.
She turned to face Jack and she stood unafraid. It was time to face her demons.
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Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2015 8:33 pm
A man stood in front of her and when her eyes focused on him it was Jack, but for a moment, just before, he was something else. With a look that held both apology and pride, the tall man reached into her chest and pulled.A long black spear ripped from Chel's torso, and then another, and again. The pain was nearly too much, but after a moment, a cool, clean sensation filled the huntress. Another spear was pulled from her and this one was lighter in color and feeling, the next was a pure blue and she would feel her knees give. Again and again, until Chel was hollow. Until she was nothing and nobody. A blink of the eyes and she was standing above her own body and the not-Jack was gone, leaving her surrounded by a dozen long spears, each gleaming blue with the power of protection, each responding to her will.
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Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2015 8:41 pm
Hurricane
It's okay it's okay it's okay it's okay.
He tried to reign himself in and sniffled thickly, but the tears just kept flowing as easily as a turn of the faucet. The day had simply just been too much to keep at bay once he was still like this; America's voice, weathered as it was, just turned the knob more.
She returned already a mess, but adding to it just seemed so inconsiderate. A silly guilt, but one nevertheless. He tugged at his oversized shirt until there was a patch less dirtied by the day's work to try and clean her up.
"H-How...?" Dawson glanced at the figure she grasped at, his voice too shaky to fully form the question.
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Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2015 8:50 pm
HurricaneShe didn't know what he was asking. How they got to be here in this place or how anything could be okay. Either way, she didn't have a real answer for him. She swayed weakly under his ministrations and offered a smile, sincere despite it all. "P'robly magic r'good people. Always is," she slurred quietly.
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Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2015 9:09 pm
His heart seemed to echo in his ears as a death knell. Lub-dub. If you live, she won't forgive you for giving in. If you die, she won't forgive herself for failing. Which is worse? Lub-dub. His vision dimmed and blood left him like passengers from a sinking ship. He could barely hear Owain anymore even. Lub-dub. (“Here, here! It is the beating of his hideous heart!”)
And then he closed his eyes as he felt the need to survive answered with sickening relief. As flesh and bone became encapsulated with flawless crystal, he felt a resurgence of--not strength per se, no, he was still weak, but confidence infused him with a second wind that couldn't match what his body could provide. Purpose. Will. Inside the perfect cage he would suffocate, could feel even as he stood upright the way the chestplate pressed tight against his ribs, but at the least he wouldn't leave this place without making his mark. Suspended animation was better than death, even at this price. Spite the enemy when you could, whatever way you could.
(He could not die, he will not die.)
Jack brandished the sword with more ease than before, ready to split the clone in two, when a burst of spine tingling energy attracted his attention. The helm turned its eyeless gaze and saw not Chel but Protection, and he knew immediately that she needed to be the first to be slaughtered. Covered from head to toe, it was impossible to discern his expression, but his posture was loud enough: gauntlets wrapped around the large weapon's handle in anticipation a split second before he charged.
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Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2015 9:21 pm
Hurricane
"Yeah," he agreed a little too glumly and fell silent for a while as he went at the sincere but pointless effort of making America look okay. It was still Work. Distraction. Taym was too still for comfort, but he could clean up too. He should have been pulling her straight to someone to look at, but his legs were low on batteries and frankly so was his heart right now.
"I'll bring ya back in just a sec," Dawson promised. Somewhere in the midst of his ministrations he simply gave up pretense and stroked the ends of her hair. "Things're...lil' messy right now." He couldn't have put it into words even if he had been alert and brimming with energy.
He lifted his shoulder and wiped at his face with another sniffle, for once not embarrassed by how weepy he appeared. "Chris, s'he...he's frat boy lookin', short blond hair, wears watcha call...snapbacks. He here too?"
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Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2015 10:10 pm
It didn't seem like they were going to get answers from the girl, not with her hysterics and the Death hunters that soon descended upon the trio and took the girl from his arms. Despite the trouble she caused, hopefully she'd be alright. "You got someone on the trainee by the stairs, ya?" Least they forget about that poor guy.
They had been told to go back to the labs to help clear the area but Milo took a brief moment to capture Noemi in a big hug. "You okay?" She was herself a hunter, could take care of herself but he hearing her say that she was would ease his mind.
The Sun pulled back and finally addressed her concerns, he held up his hands, showing her the crystals that had covered them, "cool, ya? Got this suddenly and totally helped me catch up to her." Okay, maybe not totally answering her question.
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Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2015 10:11 pm
pinchmonster i bought u a really cute cat book kira kiras some more Wash had been on a run when he had heard the muted explosions, almost felt them in his bones despite the distance. The island was no stranger to threat, however, and he had just paused to reach for his phone when Clarice's voice floated across the grounds ethereally. Echoes of the past. The Life labs. The Life labs. He turned on his heel and sprinted, forgetting to even summon his weapon. He was so far, he'd never make it in time. She'd have to fend for herself again, without him - as she had had to do so many times now, for so, so long. A time measured as much in distance as in years. But he had to try. Even if she was so much stronger than he ever could be. Even if she didn't need his protection.
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Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2015 10:23 pm
Even as the peaceful sensation settled over her body, Chel couldn't help but scream from within that it was wrong. Peace was not her way. Protection was not her way. But neither was revenge. Her way was whatever gave her an edge to her own means. In her own way, Chel was more powerful than Legacies, and she thought, perhaps, that was the point. She had the power to choose, and the memories to correct her mistakes. To repeat her mistakes. To live outside of those mistakes. To choose.
She wondered if Merlin dwelled on his actions, or if he kept surging forward. She wondered if he even remember why he was moving forward. She thought in that way, they might be the same.
It didn't matter who was standing above Chel's lifeless body. Protection, Merlin, Chel; whatever it was took a stand to oppose the cage that Jack had created for himself. To mourn that she had left him so helpless.
I'll kill for you is not the same as I'll die for you.
Always.
Each spear ricocheted his sword and for every swing there was another part of her whirling dervish. She would grab one from the air and slash, then pick up another and repeat the process. She didn't take a step in any direction, merely conducted from the center, combating his every movement, his every inclination. Despite Jack's desire to be a mystery, an enigma, for Chel he wasn't- he couldn't be even if he wanted to. The artifact had ripped him open and it was a strength as well as a weakness.
There was a lull in the fighting and she lowered her spears, she waited, he watched. She didn't stare with sorrow or with pity, no anger in her eyes, but a soft, pensive, inquisitive look.
What's most important right now?
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