Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was exactly what she wanted, the dragon had opened it's mouth. The attack would never make, as the minute the gaping mouth was opened the third cartridge went flying in. This one exploded in the midst of the beasts throat, releasing a sticky, fire-proof foam that expanded exponentially when exposed to the slightest moisture. In seconds the beast's stomach, esophogus, mouth, and nasal passages would be clogged with a sticky foam. The foam would continue to expand and congeal, pressuring the beast from the inside, fire-proofing it, and hopefully suffocating it to death.

"Fire the mortars!" Red commanded.

A mortar barrage landed, not explosive, but releasing more fire retardant foam stickier than any gum. It entangled the Dragons wings and pulled it down, a further barrage encased it completely.

This better work, Red thought, loading a new cartridge in her specialized case, I'm running out of plans.

The snipers knew what to do, they knew when the eyes of the beast might widen, and six shots were off, with every intention of blinding the beast.

The dragon was fast, but Red was fast enough to back away, and as she was the only one in an exposed position, everyone else being concealed, she had been the only one in danger in the first place. This time her gun didn't fire a canister, she had emptied the barrel when she changed the last extension. When she clicked the trigger a one thousand decibal sonar assault would be directed directly at the dragon. She would hold it as long as possible, even though the sound wasn't directed at her it was still loud, but not deadly. The vibration of the gun would leave some nasty bruises on her wrist. But the Dragon, well, this attack would leave it deaf and damage every internal organ of its body. All the while more sticky mortars would continue to rain upon the dragon from five directions, but now they would be mixed with orichalium tipped armor peircing rounds.

"Suppose I deserve that for being such a b***h, nothing personal big guy," Red whispered.

With dragon's blood all over her, no one would see her tears. She felt like she should have relented, and if she had only needed the tooth she would have done everything to spare the creature, but the mission had called for something else.

"Technology one, Dragons zero," she said loudly, Wiping the gunk from her eyes with a bottle of water and a hankercheif from her coat. The problem with Dragon's blood was that it had a magical purpose, and being directly upon her, it was powerful enough to make her marks hurt intensly. But it was nothing compared to what she had dealt with before, it wouldn't even rank in the top fifty.

In minutes a team would be on site to extract the tooth and give the beast an honorable burial, the beast had been dishonored enough. She had half a mind to let them not take the tooth, but she couldn't prevent it, and what would it serve to have killed the dragon for nothing.

Blood and guck dripping from her coat she sprinted toward the opening of the cave and went inside, the others flanking her from the rear. She wanted to be the first to survey the treasure. Within thirty minutes she had reached the pile. The cavern was several hundred meters high, piled wih gold, jewels, and valuable weapons. Somewhere at the bottom of the pile the sword was sure to have been buried.

"Get the extraction unit out here, I want every last bit of this removed. Let everyone who served under me they're in for damn big bonuses when we get back to Durem. Bring my equipment, I intend to camp out here for awhile. I'll personally supervise the treasure extraction. Radio headquarters and request the construction of an artificial dock for the purpose. Also, I want the main camp moved outside the cave. I intend to defend this area until every last speck of treasure is safely removed. And bring a damn shower unit in here, this gunk is ruining my hair!"

Now, she wondered, where was that sword, and what else would she find.

Red followed them out, for the careful extraction of the treasure had taken a good week, and the final items to leave were the most important, as they were buried the deepest. Not to mention it took days to gather every fragment of Mr. White's precious sword.

The sheild, however, was her property, and it was put in a box marked thus. She had no obligation to hand this over, and by no means would. It was among treasure she was allowed to dispose of as she wished.

There was something else, a slight fragment of leathery skin that would have been otherwise overlooked if she had not been drawn to it. She knew at once it was the fragment of a very powerful weapon, one that something inside her wanted badly to have. When she touched it directly a wave of spirals appeared up her arm, but as soon as it was away from her flesh they disapeared. She culd keep it in a plastic bag in the pocket of her coat, and suffer nothing from it.

As an added bonus she picked up a finely crafted moonblade and over a hundred moonstars of various qualities. She had also found an armoured fan without a dent or a scratch on its sharp blades, that weapon was already under her coat.

That settled, it was time to tie up the loose ends and head back to Durem.

After the fight four more people had joined the contruction of the biggest constrcution project gaia had ever seen.
Bura Chopped some wood with his axe, he was bored and wished he has somthing to do.
((I have to go in two minutes, all reply to your post later.))

((Just to let you know, when magma (molten rock) cools, it turns to, y'know, rock. In this case an igneous rock such as scoria or pumice.))

::The green glow was cast aross the mans stark features like a sickly sunrise. Sunrise never came in this land. It would come now. Boney fingers slid through his bright orange hair and came to rest on the pale skin of his chin.

Slowly his footsteps took him closer to the source of the green light. A hand was gently placed on its surface as a loud thump struck the glass from within the milky green water of the container. This ovaloid vat of milky green liquid. The Doctors office had been transformed into a plastic jungle. Wires hung down from the ceiling like vines, cords lay spewed across the floor like snakes. Everything lead to the core. The one green vat. At its core there was a silohette of something, something small and something round.

While in the past he would write, or read, or even study. The Doctor was content to just watch...for hours...days. He need not sleep, he need not eat. Blood still stained his fingers from the arduous surgery he had just performed, but he cared not. His only concern in life was this one device. Periodically he would dash forth to check the connections, the hoses and wires which fed it, the life blood to this thing which held the mans heart in a way only one woman had.::



::A figured churns in his sleep as his young sweaty body slips across blood stained sheets. Nightmares fill his mind. He remembers hunting with his family, he tracked wolf and geese across plains. He remembers the feeling of the bow in his fingertips...but now his arms are filled with nothing but pain.

The touch of steel to his flesh is the touch of a stranger. But his body is no stranger to it. Patchwork metal forms his ribs...part of his leg, and now his arm. The hydraulic pistons churn into the night, the ticking fueling his horribly nightmare as this freakish machine of a left arm attempts to fuse with flesh in a way god never intended.

His perfectly normal right arm can only try and stroke the phantom sensations that fill this hunk of machinery. He remembers words spoken in an accent that haunts him. He tried to block the questions, how could a man perform such a surgery whilst another screamed in such pain? Who could be so cold? But his mind provided no solace.

"Itz going to bleed for a few dayz...zhe viens much learn to pump through zhe hydraulic servo's...it vill feel normal."

::Normal. Servos instead of muscle, steel instead of bone...wires instead of viens...was this normal? Was this God's intention for his creation? Was this the creative vision of the diety which left him to die in the frozen waste?

God and The Doctor had always had....creative differences.::



::Her soft dainty hands slid across the cold steel. It was so hard to get stains to come out of metal. Blood simply dried so fast, and she hadnt the time to clean up during the operation. But she enjoyed her work, scrubbing from side to side gave her the chance to get used to her hands. Indeed, most people are used to living in their own skin after a few years...Mary on the other hand was no so lucky.

As far as she could remember its always been this way. She gave herself the injection every day. It made her skin always feel so tight, but it afterwards it was soft as a babys bottom. Only every few months it would age, and peel and begin to rot...then it was time for replacements. On things like her back, that took years and years. For things as commonly used as hands...it was always too quick...too quick for her to be ready. She never questioned where the replacements came from, she never asked why or how. And as she slipped off her clothes every night, alone in her room. As she viewed her vuluptuous man-made form in the shiny surface of her green bath of a bed, she thanked her father, and she blocked out the screams. The green water was her bed, it blocked out the world. A green womb if you will. Or the milky embrace of a loving father to his one and only daughter.::



::The cold always childed his fur...it bit at his skin but a layer of blubber kept it at bay. Another adaption. Father always made them and Marcel was always happy to recieve.

He was made without lips and so the walrus tusk size fangs, which formed his always open mouth, seeped saliva through them. The slimy green liquid crystalized on contact with the frigid air. The liquid was not truly spit, but condesated nerve gas. It was his breath.

Marcel was a work in progress, and he had been as such for past 53 years. He was the first and oldest of the Doctors children. His hulking form reached up 9 feet tall, and 3ft wide. His 16 eyes saw everything around them in ways other beings couldnt begin to see. The batlike opens on the side of his head let him hear, mostly he heard the screams of the lost before they died. And he would save them, he'd bring them into his father The Doctor. And he would never ask where they had gone when he never saw them within. Father knows best. He saw hot and cold, light and dark, colorful and bland, alive and dead. He saw it all, and yet he was not gifted with the power to speak to it. Such a large mouth, able to bite a man in half, but it couldnt make a sound. Mute as he was, he could touch.

Four arms protuded from his form. From his shoulders came two hulking huge arms, their size and width similar to that of a bear, and twice as furry. The massive arms led down to a set of 4 cartiladgenous claws, they were as hard as bone, but as sharp as steel. It was something much like a sharks "bones". Just below that first set of arms was a second, two smaller arms, they were nearly human, while muscular they were slender and smooth, only each hand was adorned with 7 fingers. One would think these would be excellent for slaughter...but mostly they were used to knit and draw. Marcel was quite the desinger, one day he dreamed of standing beside other designers comparing their works....

But he was no fool, he stood on 4 legs. Two massive humanoid legs, and two smaller almost toad like furry legs behind them. The only things he would stand beside was other monsters. Its a shame, but most people will never know anything beyond what they see. That'd see the giant black furred monstrosity of science sitting huddled in the snow...but not the tiny snow bird which he gently pet atop its head, as his massive form protected it from the harsh winds...::



::If the world were machines M4X would be whole. But in his current state, all he knew was his chamber. A capsule had been built from the metal he had built. It fueled him during his rest cycles, and give him the manipulation of gravitons he needed in order to keep himself, and those around him, "running efficiently". He had built most the substance which forged this tower...he was its rock. And if threatened he would be its defense.

For now, the Black Hospital enjoyed another quiet evening.::

Then, in the same ultra-cautious nature that he'd approached the place, Shouyin would enter, and begin destroying things. Breaking building foundations, disassembling equipment, and salvaging a few iron bars etcetera for personal use.

Shouyin was gonna bring this construction back to day one.