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 Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2015 2:50 pm
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After parting ways with Aerona, Ephias returned to the central cavern. He glanced towards Milieu and her companions, but they were happily chatting away, and he did not want to intrude. He turned his gaze elsewhere. The initiative certainly was a dynamic group, with members up and down the hemospectrum. It was a little strange how few lower caste members there were, but he was glad to have the support of those higher. Change was not impossible.
A strange sound came from beside him, a mix between a bleat and a whimper. He looked down towards Wolly. The sheep was standing stock still, ears erect and quivering. He let out another strangled bleat.
Ephias furrowed his brow. “What...?”
Then he heard it. The low rumble. Wolly rammed his head against Ephias' back, nearly pushing him over. “Wolly—”
There was no time to finish. At that moment drones came rushing into the room. Their numbers were seemingly endless. Ephias saw a flurry of weapons. His bloodpusher dropped. Of course, everything had to go wrong. He had known that this fight was not going to be easy. But he had not expected for everything to turn so terrible so soon. He had hardly integrated himself with the Phoenix Initiative and already there was the possibility that he might die for it. Etsali too...
Oh god. Etsali.
He had dragged her into this mess. She had been hesitant to join from the start, but he had asked her because he had not wanted to be alone in this and now... Now it was his responsibility to get her out. Reaching for his shears, Ephias pushed through the crowd. He needed to reach her before anything happened. If anything happened. He grit his teeth, and shoved past another troll. If worst came to worst, and everything went to hell, then he would...
There was a crack of gunfire and instinctively Ephias ducked. The momentary panic came to an abrupt halt. Swallowing his own fear, Ephias forced himself to remain still and take stock of the situation. A hooded figure emerged from behind the drones, spinning a rifle like it was a damn toy. So, that was the troll leading the charge.
His attention was quickly diverted at the figure's words though. The leader of the rebels was... a mutant? At any other time, Ephias would have been fascinated. A grown mutant was like finding a unicorn: unheard of. He had more important things on his thinkpan though. Moving slower, but still with purpose, he slipped through the trolls, keeping an eye out for a familiar shade of orange. |
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Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2015 2:54 pm
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Psykgi Mentha
Aside from the fact that the empress had a fascinating and informal speaking style, Psykgi was soon on her way to learning that A] the military was full of drudgery and boring walking. B] that this was not her speed and C] that there were at least a nice selection of interesting trolls to observe as she struggled to keep up. Goodness – she needed to go running or something! This was not a good sign.
Ma'am kept up a steady stream of 'encouragement' in the form of commands. Keep up, move on, don't stop, don't tarry, don't look at that, keep going... Psykgi was almost – almost, mind – annoyed enough to snap at the swarm. She regretted, now, packing all those extra first aid kits into her pack – carrying them the whole way had been an awful idea.
Fortunately, she had a chatty yellowblood for company and lively conversation - her old... friend? Voscil was very welcome, and it was easier to ignore her ma's exasperated chattering and her own discomfort with the other troll's enthusiasm to boost her up.
As they reached what apparently was their destination, Psykgi was too far back to actually see it, but the shout of 'mutantblood' reached her sponge clots and she looked up from her panting rest with interest. Mutantblood? As in, unnatural colors? Was that possible? What color? Did it make them different? Think differently? Act differently? Could she see the blood?
Unfortunately, investigating wasn't an option at the moment, and likely wouldn't be. Such a shame – she could learn so much from observing a mutant, but, well... They were all going to be dead, and the things she was interested in ended at death.
So she turned to the mutant she had at hand... who was with what appeared to be a large, bulky teenage yellowblood. Psy needed some protection, so she moved closer to Voscin, edging one of the first aid kids out of her pack. She had a feeling she'd need it... |
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Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2015 2:55 pm
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Eco-friendly Shapeshifter
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Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2015 2:58 pm
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The trudge to the rebel center had been typical of any royal marching order. Tamiya seethed the whole time, eyes flickering back and forth between her traveling companion and the line ahead. While her moirail wasn’t present, Tamiya was volatile. Her upper lip would often quiver as though ritualistic curses would burst out, and occasionally they did. She had long since unsheathed her weapon and held it firmly in hand. The rebellion was a group of insidious traitors, hellbent on turning Alternia into a wasteland of treachery and disorder. Their form of chaos was pure hemo-homogeneity – nothing to grab onto, only the terror of the deep wreaking havoc on land and wayward spirits forever lost on the surface of Alternia. Such horror was unspeakable, and had to be stopped.
Their brusque and confident leader did not impress Tamiya as much as an informant would. There was a mystery to him that she did not find appealing – a sort of dishonesty sewn into his very being. If he was sending the royalists into a trap, she would have his head.
But, no. Out the royalists were spat, deep in the desert where Tamiya had tread so many times before. They were lead through the labyrinthine tunnels and lo and behold, trapped the rebels like the rats they were. Tamiya waited for striking orders but Kursha let off a shot before that, the results of which stunned Tamiya.
“Holy Messiahs—“ A gasp caught cold in Tamiya’s mouth and her jaw dropped. The same blood from Old Hemisect was dripping down the woman’s arm. The same blood that had sprayed her small, youthful face and the same blood running through the veins of the troll responsible for her hivelessness. The troll responsible for the tainting and destruction of Old Hemisect, the inferno that took her life away from her and nearly claimed her soul. A corruptor who had, no doubt, cursed Odette with her influence and contributed to her impurities before she had been able to step in. The most damning fact, though, was the hue of her blood. She was an aberrant. It was a culling order on its own, for the good of Alternia. The rest of her charges merely sealed her fate. Tamiya was ready to tear her throat out. Ignoring all else, she struggled to not charge forward prematurely.
--
“Exterminating,” the queen had said. Her identification of the rebel activities at Old Hemisect were clear, and Ganyma had no choice but to go along.
“I don’t care how many sweeps old you are.”
Ganyma watched as children no older than a couple of sweeps old packed up their belongings, their lusii and their lives. He didn’t think he would have to put his mask on so soon. Even now, the dulling sensation of the cover against his face couldn’t stop his thoughts. He was a hypocrite, and a puppet of the government. Everything he had been told by Puchen was dissolving – children lining up for direct combat in an extermination that he was a part of. His most abhorred trait of the Phoenix Initiative, of course. Ganyma was acutely aware of who might be involved on the opposite side of the conflict. The trolls he was supposed to exterminate like Alternian fauna.
Luxara had told him she would be joining. Forera, of course, if she’d escaped from the forest hunt. Little Stryke, if he was still alive. Odette. Vremea, the rest of the Scouts. He couldn’t see a way out. He could have escaped, but all eyes were on him. The ALG pinned him as reformed; his stint at the rehabilitation had him under government watch. As the royalist troops closed in, Ganyma distinctly felt his time running out and coming to an end. No choice now for a rube such as he. Had his bloodpusher blackened so far that he could destroy his teammates? He’d killed before. They had framed him, after all, and to this day he couldn’t be sure of any of his old alliances. At the very least, they were still allied with Kursha.
His conscience was dimmed by the nature of the trek and now, the stifling crowd of royalists. He peered through his mask and recognized a horrifying amount of familiar trolls, but before he could fully recognize them all there was a loud gunshot. Pink blood – it wouldn’t register with Ganyma until later that evening. What did hit him was the voice that spoke out from the crowd.
Kursha. Ganyma’s thoughts dropped off of a cliff into raw, bubbling rage. A scapegoat had appeared before him, and for that moment Ganyma had no more doubts about his actions. Any idea about morality, playing sides, long-term strategy or self-preservation was out the window. Things were black and white. The greenblood had to die, and he would be absolved.
--
Aerona was relaxing in the cavern when she heard the troops. Putting her hand on her hip, she flipped open her explosives pouch and found her way to where the other rebels were grouping. This was bad. One day into the rebellion and there was always a rat. Some highblood, no doubt. She narrowed her eyes and looked around at the royalists. The leader had survived this long. She probably had a plan—
A gunshot rang out and Aerona jerked to attention. What met her eyes made her gasp. Everything made sense. A mutant stood among them, and her charge began screaming. The curious boy (without a lusus… Aerona had a sudden suspicion that she had to stow away) and other shouts and panicked cries from the cavern alerted her to an intriguing fact: even the royalists seemed to be at least somewhat in the dark. Aerona looked back and forth, waiting for any action to start. There could be no time wasted. Suddenly, a greenblood stepped out of the crowd as the marksman and began to monologue. Of course it was a greenblood. The troll had something to prove, of course, and had traitor written all over him. Aerona snarled. She readied herself for what was to come, focused on every escape route in the caverns. It was only a shame she didn’t know them like the mountains of Busthind… But she’d make do. Aerona would survive, somehow. She had to.
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Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2015 2:59 pm
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Frankly Alifax thought these dramatics were kind of stupid. Still, though, when the hooded figure turned out to be Kursha Vidari, Alifax couldn't be all too surprised. From what he knew of the guy - who looked a lot taller than he had the last time Alifax had seen him - Kursha was just that kind of person, and this mutantblood person - who bore a strange resemblance to something he'd seen at bloodfest - was obviously too idealistic to have much sense for practicality.
Still it was fairly obvious what was coming, and he readied his meteors anyway.
--
Dictys, though, was a little more incredulous. An insult to this person was an insult to the empire? No, thank you - ey'd follow this person if it was the task at hand, since obviously he'd known where this spot was. But it was incredibly stupid to think that this person had any real sense of leadership. A true leader ensured that their followers trusted them, regardless of how good they had to look for the cameras.
And besides - as Dictys' eyes fell upon the mutantblood more clearly, it was obvious that Regina already knew precisely what was going on. Ey'd been paying attention at that Bloodfest booth. Dictys personally would never have sent this upstart to cleanse the empire of physically infirm members of the population - but then again, Dictys didn't have the responsibility of taming a possibly genocidal lusus. Ey supposed ey'd let Regina have that one.
Regardless of eir personal opinions of this greenblood, ey said quickly to the other children jostling to get a better view - "Quiet down!" They had work to do, and if they were going to receive accolades for it, they could do better than fluttering about uselessly in the background.
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Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2015 3:00 pm
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Alexin had turned up to the base with Splitch in tow. Though that sounded like the lusus was behind him - in truth, he had ridden Splitch here, discarding the full scuttlebuggy for a more quiet, relaxed ride on their lusus. He'd milled around, eaten some food and waited to be called for an examination - at least until the scouting party was called for. To be honest, he didn't want to go. He cast fearful glances at his Lusus, who was happily bumbling along outside the base, too big to really come inside, and his heart hardened. No. The queen. The queen could go - And then he caught himself again. It was a troll's duty to the queen. And it was a hero's duty too. (How could he be a hero when he was so afraid for his lusus.)
A hero wasn't fearless, he told himself. Heroes were made by overcoming fear. And so, upon Splitch's back he flew low over desert dunes, scouting for any dangers that might approach the large party of trolls (and keeping distant, keeping safe). As they approached the cavern mouth though, now on foot, with Splitch at the back with other oversized lusii, he tensed. Caverns like this hadn't ended well last time. But the crowd swept him forward, and he was there for all the twists and turns, including the gunshot.
The pink blood caught his eye for a second, but it didn't last. What caught Alexin's eye was all too familiar hair, an all too familiar colour.
"KEOINX?!"
The shout was loud, loud enough she had probably heard him. Immediately Alexin started fighting through the crowd, trying to reach their friend. Inside their head, a litany began. NO. NO. SHE'LL DIE. NO. NO! I WILL SAVE HER. NO. NO. THAT'S DISLOYAL. And there was the crux of it, was it. Alexin had been loyal to the queen. But. Keoinx. Keoinx was the bravest, most heroic, most beautiful person Alexin knew. And if she was on the side of the rebels, something was wrong. Either she'd been brainwashed or.
Or Alexin's dark thoughts had been right, and things were unfair.
Fighting through the crowd, Alexin popped out between two drones and started running straight towards his friend, almost desperately, ideologies warring in his head, confusion rife on his features and all of it concentrated on his one true friend.
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Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2015 3:03 pm
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Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2015 3:03 pm
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Larque had followed along after Tamiya in silence, able to sense her aggression, and her determination, and allowing some of it to seep into his own mind. After their confrontation at the base, he had resolved to stick to her, and only her, and figure the rest out as he went along. His mind was still riddled with paranoia; the demeanor of their mission leader did not sit well with Larque, and though he had been tempted to voice further dissent, he knew it would be unwise to push Tamiya's patience. If this was important to her, perhaps it ought to be important to him as well...and wouldn't it be interesting to hone his skills during a new type of situation? The queen's boasts about having the upper hand should have soothed his worries more than they really did. The bottom line was that he didn't want Tamiya to perish in the caves, but he also hoped to avoid her potential wrath. When the royalist forces began to move out, he remained obediently at her side.
It didn't take long for Larque to decide that he hated the desert. It was so open, so dry. Chittentown was protected within its canyon, at least, but the desert itself was nightmarishly open, instilling a certain sense of vulnerability that the greenblood felt he would never be able to tolerate if he were forced to live there. Making conversation with Tamiya had been almost tempting...he still didn't know much about her brief stay in the desert. In the end, he decided against it; she seemed distracted enough with her own dour thoughts.
He was relieved, and a bit surprised, as they reached the caverns, terrain he felt much more at ease in. With the entire march made in silence, there wasn't much time to discuss what would or could happen, and he was forced to keep his worries to himself. What if the dissenters had more numbers than the military knew about? Larque wouldn't be surprised in the least. There wasn't long to dwell on his thoughts; soon enough it was time to storm the main chamber, and they had their 'rats' cornered quickly enough. Then, and only then, did Larque draw his weapons, the curved scythes flicking out from the handles with a quiet rattle of the chain. Tamiya's bristling was more than enough to get him on edge.
The gunshot caused Larque to flinch, and he immediately realized that Tamiya hadn't been wrong about there being a mutant. Momentary surprised was painted over his face, before it slowly melted back into his usual scowl. His lip twitched at the sight of her bizarre blood, and he wasn't sure how to feel. The way his lusus had spoken of mutants, he'd always expected them to look different as well, with extra limbs, or disfigured forms. Something hideous or disgusting, worthy of being hunted down and culled in order to prevent the mutations from spreading. It wasn't very impressive, but he adopted an offensive stance anyway, ready to fight alongside his companion no matter what happened.
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Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2015 3:06 pm
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The presence of the enemy was not the most surprising thing about this night, and in that literally brief moment that would feel more like an eternity, it would remain not quite so surprising. What was of note was the shear number of soldiers... drones, civilians in casual clothing, weapons all drawn and pointed in towards the center of the circle they'd created. Aprife had expected something, maybe not this night or the next, but at some point their compromised location would find itself under attack again, he was sure. It simply didn't make strategical sense to ignore what blatantly gave you the upper hand.
Yeah, Aprife had expected something, but he hadn't expected what felt like the entirety of the Queen's military force set like ravenous wolves upon the tiny flock that was their rebellion. This was overkill. This was overkill on the one night they'd planned to gather in earnest.
"It pays to trust your instincts," he muttered in response to Muerte's whisper, what essentially amounted to a toned down 'I told you so.' There was a tight smile on Aprife's face as he gauged their surroundings, scourge drawn, fingers drumming loosely at the handle.
They were far outnumbered, but that didn't mean they were outmatched or destined to die... That's what the yellowblood silently assured himself, at least. In his think pan formations swirled, ideas about escape routes, how to best maximize their potential as a tight knit group, but those calculations only lasted as long as the dull buzz of activity did before it was shattered by the loud crack of gunfire.
Immediately his head whipped around as he looked for signs of injury, and braced more shots, but what he got instead was nothing less than what he was sure would be the most surprising event of the night. Their leader had been hit, his friend, but more worrisome than her wounds was the color of the blood drip-dripping to the cavern floor. It was no shade he'd ever seen, and this was no simple play of the light... Byakko's blood was intensely pink. She was a mutant.
The yellowblood's stomach lurched before he could reign himself back in. He'd always attributed her heavy secrecy to the dangers of her position, and of course he believed that still held true, but even more so he understood in that moment that secrecy had likely played a significant part in keeping her alive this long.
Ah, he breathed deeply as he finally regained his composure again, though externally his expression had hardly changed. Byakko was a mutant, it made some sense as to why she would fight so staunchly for equality when her off-spectrum blood color doomed her to near immediate culling. That didn't change anything, not really, not in the grand scheme of things. Everything was the same, Byakko was still Byakko, their commander, and there was simply no sense in worrying about her now when the entirety of the gathering could see just what she was. Now all that mattered was fighting their way out alive once more.
As Aprife gripped his scourge with renewed vigor, another surprise found itself sauntering out of the shadows like it owned the place. The hood went down, Aprife's eyes went narrow. Kursha. While he'd never directly interacted with the greenblood, he knew of him, as it was a rather important aspect of his job, after all. And yet, knowing they'd been betrayed yet another time was still not as astounding as Byakko's blood slowly pooling at her sandals. This vast number of soldiers, this particular night, the fact that Kursha was a traitor was about as shocking as sand in the desert.
Kursha hadn't been around that long, anyway, so what did he care (not that he found himself particularly caring where any fellow members were concerned). If not him, it would've been someone else. There was no way the army would've known to show on this night of all nights if not for inside information.
Didn't mean he wasn't pissed, just meant he wasn't caught off guard.
"Looks like it's time for another extermination," he mused to Muerte, answering his inquiry. They were still vastly outnumbered, and there was still a very real possibility that this was the end, but a spark of amusement smoothed over the tense grin Aprife had worn only moments before. If they went down, they sure wouldn't go down without a fight.
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Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2015 3:14 pm
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Keionx Rutace
Keionx heard her name shouted from the other side of the cavern, and saw an all-too familiar cerulean shape hurtle towards her. ”Alexin?!” she exclaimed, shifting into an uncertain battle stance. Her bloodpusher clenched, emotion running thick through her umber blood.
She had been realizing, bit by bit, that she was now about to test a resolve that she had not yet finished building. She was weak inside, her soul whimpering and frustrated because it didn't know what side it was on anymore. What side was right.
She saw the look on Alexin's face, and knew, in that moment, that nothing about this was right. She lowered her sword to the side and extended her shield hand out to her friend, trusting that their intentions were pure, that they would take her hand and be pulled into the group. Where they would be safe.
Oh gog. Nothing was right at all... |
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Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2015 3:22 pm
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When Kursha dropped his hood for the big reveal, Byakko's eyes widened in utter dismay. The shock wore off, and her face twisted with rage. The kanabo she aimed steadily at him shook as she trembled with a mixture of furious disbelief. "Y-you-"
He had been there to witness Errade's guilt. Personally helped her sniff out and eradicate the traitor, only to slip right into her role. The brooding cavern- oh gog, they must have known where the Mother Grub was, too. Byakko's mind snapped to Maneki, a newfound panic surging over her, but she didn't dare rip her eyes away from the intruders.
"Retreat! If you can avoid it, don't focus on retaliating- just run!" She barked a command over her shoulder to the members of the Initiative. The pinkblood didn't have the luxury to consider how the rebels would react to her mutation, thrusting her faith blindly that they would comply. Abandoning the headquarters was their only option.
Pointing her weapon at Kursha, Byakko let out a low hiss.
"I'm going to kill you, traitor."
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