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 Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 3:30 am
[Enter]
He returned to a mass of noise, turmoil, and grief.
Somehow, Jason had managed not to fall over his own two feet as he moved as far away from the portal as he could. He wouldn't put it past the monster to come through it and finish them all off. They would be easy pickings at this point.
He only stopped when his eyes caught sight of the two stretchers, and he caught a glimpse of the pale faced hunter as it was covered in white. He tried to look away, but instead he found himself looking at a stone cold statue nearby.
The moon hunter managed to stay standing for a few more minutes, until his legs gave way. He knelt on the ground, uncaring as to who was around or who would see him. So much had happened, his mind was just staring to come to terms with it. They were one leader down, not to mention all the hunters lost. Marcus wasn't going to give him any pep talks. Neither was Killzone for that matter.
And this time, he didn't even have Zanthvos to help him.
His hand still clutched the tablet, and he held onto it, head bowled and feeling utterly alone.
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Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 5:07 am
Sherry was beginning to feel guilty. Guilty for letting her partner down. Guilty for not being more useful in that battle. Guilty for surviving, even. Good hunters had died, and she hadn't. "It's silly," she whispered. What could she have done? That battle- the way it had ended, there was little that she could have done. She was certain of that. Even Armagnac would have said so. Oh, Armagnac. I'm so sorry. Sherry had failed her. All she'd asked had been not to-- No. I can't accept that, she thought, caressing the tablet in her hands. "Just sleeping. Please," the whisper was quiet, pleading, and choked. I'm sorry.All she wanted right now was for Armagnac to say something. Anything. Even if it was just to tell her that she'd failed. The idea that she might never hear that voice in her head again was almost too much for the trainee to bear. She stared at the tablet, and remembered the first time, the only time, really, that she'd seen it. The first time she'd heard Armagnac's voice. Fresh tears began to form. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flicker of movement. She turned just in time to see Jake put his head back into his hands. The poor kid. First time out, and this was how it ended. With death and more. Even for her it was all almost too hard to comprehend and accept, even after all she'd seen. Her eyes flickered to the tablet that was Armagnac, then back to Jake. She opened her mouth to say something, but found herself at a loss for words. What could she say? "I'm sorry"? What good would that do? "It'll be okay"? "It gets better"? She couldn't say that. She didn't know if it was going to be okay, and she couldn't promise anything about it getting better. Armagnac would tell her it'll get better. She would tell her that she was alive, and therefore could get stronger, and everything would be better. Buck up, deal with it, and move on. After all, there was nowhere to go but up, right? Yeah, Sherry was sure that's what Armagnac would tell her. She sighed softly. "I'm glad to see you made back alive, Jake. And," she continued quickly, "don't be snarky with me for saying it, either. Allow me that one little piece of happiness." Please.
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Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 6:47 am
[Entering] Tori didn't like this one bit as she held onto her weapon's tablet as close as she could as it still smoked. She just wanted the familiar warm weight around her neck, the constant asking of questions and of the horsey type of sounds in her head. Tori really, really hated to be alone since all that she could hear were the echo of her own thought and those of her mother's warnings and when she had lost her Ceri and started seeing the shadows. Why was there so much empty space in her head that should be filled with Aklin, she just wanted him back even if he could be an a**. Nothing was going to bring back Bix and Tori knew it even if she did want him to still be alive. Where she could talk to him, learn things from him among doing things with Bix that were never going to happen ever and that just make her feel so much more hollow like the dam puppet that she had been and maybe it might have been a good thing to stay one since puppets never felt anything. Tori was going to blame herself over his death since she had not been there for him at all when she should have. Sighing a little as she walked farther along and Tori also just wanted all those strange stare to just stop looking at her as she didn't want to remember her past when she had gotten simular looks when she had shouted out at a party about the shadows being at the party too. She told the other hunters that she was find and that she didn't want to answer any questions since all she wanted to do was to go hide in her room for a while. Looking at her tablet when she did stop walking and gave it a nuzzle and a kiss. I'm so sorry Lin. Tori had thought since she just wanted him back in her head. But when Tori did look up she did spot her friend, Sherry. Walking quietly towards her friend and saw that Jake was there too. Tori didn't care if he was as all she wanted was some confort from a friend and she gave Sherry a rather large hug to which she really didn't want to let go and she was also sorry if Aklin's smoking tablet hurt you Sherry since Tori was still holding on to him since she didn't want to let go of him.
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Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 6:54 am
He had no energy to yell or snap back. Even with that girl before, his response had just been a quiet request, something he had wanted ever since he came here. This was why he chose to be alone, to never form ties. It only hurt all the more when they were severed.
Even Caelius too... he hadn't known him that long, but...
He let out a bitter laugh.
How ironic it was, when he first heard that name, he thought it was just another person who wouldn't leave him alone, think that he was a newbie who just needed some friendly faces, some "friends" to help him fit in, and instantly resented him. How wrong he had been.
He was the leader he admired. He wasn't weighed down by useless things like feelings. There was a goal, and he only focused on that.
For once, Jake felt proud to follow such a man. And then... he was dead.
How cruel fate was, choosing to take away those he admired or cared for.
"I don't deserve it." he muttered. He really didn't.
At Tori's arrival, he slowly got up. The last thing he needed was for someone to harp on him, or worse, pity him also.
Gripping the tablet tightly against his side, he looked down as the two girls embraced, and walked away.
He just needed some time alone.
[ EXIT ]
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Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 7:21 am
Minerva nodded. She didn't know what they needed at this point, aside from the obvious...
And then she pulled away from Deryk to sit beside him in silence. One of her hands still rested on his arm, left there for her own calm of mind, but she would move it if she had to. As some of the others began their retreat from the site, she gave the area a broad sweep and had to suppress the tears that threatened to continue their fall. What on earth were they going to do now? What was the plan?
Turning to Deryk, she smiled. It was forced, another failure of an attempt to help him. Minerva knew it wouldn't work but hoped it wouldn't upset him either. She didn't know what else to do. She was becoming as big of a mess as he was just from getting an idea of the massacre that took place. Golden curls were beginning to stick to her face from the build up of moisture, she could feel her stomach ache with the constant idea of hunters...their friends...their leaders...being dead. It was the worst possible outcome that she might have expected.
And then...there was their weapons. Still gone.
It felt so finite. It made her wonder if they had any power to reverse the effects of the transformations...it made her question the power that Deus Ex had as a whole. They were all humans, after all. Humans with fancy swords or daggers that did most of the work...and that had become their closest of companions.
Blythe said nothing.
She dropped her gaze from the blond's and sighed. If he was ready to go, she would let him. Minnie wouldn't ask to follow since it wasn't her place. But she seriously hoped Deryk would be alright, even if it was nearly impossible without Tooley.
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Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 8:49 am
He noticed the bodies as if from a distance, hazy through the fog of denial and shock. The numbing effect of insanity had ******** nothing on where he was currently situated within his own mind. Withdrawn somewhere no emotional pain could reach him. He looked on them and refused to let himself feel. He’d landed the finishing blow on Bix, powered for the most part with the deceased sun’s own fear. On the battlefield it was easy to justify things as simply orders, but now the guy who’d given those orders was dead and they were all useless. It had been a waste of effort and resources. The orders had been wrong, and he’d killed another hunter. Even if he’d been a monster at the time, it was hard to justify. So he didn't try. He simply accepted it as it was. Dakota’s words came back to slither through his thoughts. Cared for by no one but his guys. Better it was him who shouldered whatever misplaced hatred there would be for the actions than someone else. What was a little resentment to the man who had so much already?
At least some of the petrified had died with their weapons, bound up together. When he died now - whether that be sooner or later - it would be alone. He had always assumed it would be with Tracey, partners till the last. He spent his life waiting for the catch, always prepared for things to be unexpectedly taken away from him the way his mother was, but for whatever reason he’d never considered Tracey a finite thing. He simply was and Rep assumed, always would be.
And now he was not.
He felt as if he'd watched some sickening violation of all he held dear. Rep was not a religious man, most religions didn't have a place for people like him. But he believed in weapons, that they filled some key need in their minds, in their souls. To wield another's weapon as Red had made his stomach turn, made the bile rise in his throat. The murder had been secondary in heinousness to the theft of the weapons.
Jordan came back.
He watched the other hunter return from the portal, watched him wander like a zombie to sit on the floor alone. It made a lump rise in his throat and temporarily defrosted the icy standstill his emotions had come to, sympathy reached out invisible and unnoticed across the room. But his expression stayed blank and unreadable, he couldn’t afford to drop his walls - without their support he would crumble, he would break down and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to put himself back together again. There was relief, relief that the other man was alive, but at the same time it was underpinned by the nauseating sensation that here in this room, all of them were dead anyway. Tablets meant a dead hunter, even if they were still walking around, still talking, still pretending, they would never be truly alive again.
As hard as he tried not to, he found himself thinking about polishing Ferros. The pride he felt in his guy's weapons had almost rivalled that he felt in his own. He could remember every rune, every nuance of their respective partners, it wasn't so different to the way he'd mapped out every scar, every geometry of them themselves. B0nez had saved his life so many times already, and there was a fondness for eager boy who’d joined him on their adventures in Clarice's office. Ferros was something else, a benevolent entity, unreadable to Rep and intrinsically a part of Jordan, one without the other was hard to imagine. More than that, when it came to Ferros there were the emotions he hadn't understood and that neither of them had ever spoken about. Feelings that resurfaced in Tracey every time the subject of the mechanical dragon came up. He’d never know now.
He preferred the numbness of shock, the sanctity of his mental hiding place to this pain now he was forced to think. The hurt was unbearable and inescapable, he rejected it, he ran from it, it was like suffocating under a heavy weight, dying of cold. He had to redirect it or succumb to it.
He twisted it into anger, a toxic black rage that proved to be just as suffocating.
He could understand now why an animal might gnaw its paws to ribbons under stress, he needed drink, he needed drugs, he needed sweet release from this twisting agonising knot of disgust. He felt deeply violated, reached into and the very heart of him pulled out. He wanted to destroy the ones who did this to him, to them. But that white hot fury had no outlet, no place to go but inwards.
He hadn’t even paid attention to the ministrations to his injuries at the time when the hunters tending them had bandaged him up, but now they felt like a ******** insult. Only Tracey could mend him, only Tracey was ******** allowed. He needed pain, he needed the physical pain to focus on, mental agony he couldn’t cope with, physical agony he could. His chest was still bleeding slightly, his bones ached. He wanted to reopen the injuries, as if it would somehow tempt Tracey back to his aid. His arms in particular were in agony, he’d used his charge so many times and almost always recklessly. He tensed his muscles intentionally; the pain that radiated from his shoulders, his elbows was sharp and unbearable. It was just what he wanted. But it wasn't enough. He couldn't stop the memories.
He ran his thumb over the embossed image on the tablet, six wings spiralling to be joined in the middle and felt his stomach twist as he remembered the last time he’d seen that image. New to the island, he’d been angry, always angry and deeply alone, a wounded bleeding animal looking for a place to die. Deus had been the means to self-destruction. And then he’d found an angel. Tracey was the reason he was alive. He had brought him back from the brink every time recklessness almost killed them both, mended every wound. But most of all, he was the reason he was happy. The fallen angel was the missing part of his soul, the voice of reason who had given him the strength to face his issues, who had enabled him to find love without guilt, people who loved him in return.
And now he’d never hear him ever again.
Without him would he go back to the person he was when he first arrived on the island, before that moment in the weapons cavern? He had been cold, vindictive, scared to care, scared to lose, chasing the shadow of masculinity he didn’t understand. Would he be sent away? Could he even handle the idea of a life as just a normal man? A normal gay man? It made him balk just imagining it, Tracey had been the bridge between that old alien self and the new person he’d become on the island. Tracey was the sutures that had stitched up his mental wounds, made him function like a civilised being. He would come apart at the seams over time without that guiding hand in his thoughts, haemorrhaging hate, paranoia and hurt. He could endanger his relationship; he could lose all that he had left.
The emotions surged like a tide he couldn’t control. He couldn’t look at Jordan any longer, he couldn’t look at anyone.
He wanted to go over to the other hunter, wanted the three of them to be together, to hold Harrison and Jordan tight enough nothing could take them away the way Tracey had been. But even movement took drive, took the ability to function, to plan one action in front of the other and his was gone. On some irrational level he was also scared that the loss would be increased even further by getting too close to one another, their usual ability to remove each other’s emotional walls almost destructive here and now. Without his walls he’d lose it.
He was immobilised by emotions and the walls were eroding fast, pain wouldn't keep it at bay, the anger was waning, the sobs underpinning his breathing grew more and more pronounced. His heart was going a hundred miles an hour and he didn't even understand why. Don't think about it. He was thinking about it. He couldn't lose it in front of everyone, he needed to escape, there was nowhere to go. The knot of emotion was like a noose tightening and he couldn't escape it. It was embarrassing. it was shameful to show weakness in front of so many enemies, but Tracey was gone and he couldn't understand why it had to be like this.
He tightened his hold on Harrison's jacket and just as the walls cracked, as there was nothing but despair and hollowness left behind, he buried his face against his chest and his shoulders shuddered with silent sobs.
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Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 9:15 am
A little more time passed by. And eventually, Deryk pulled himself away from Minerva. Briefly, he raised his eyes to meet with her to give a sort of appreciative nod, but then he shakily pushed himself back to his feet. He wanted to go hide in his room for awhile, and so that was exactly what he was going to do. Once he was up, he just sort of started to slowly make his way away from all the others. ((Exit))
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Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 10:15 am
Nevada had still been wandering, offering water and bandages to hunters, avoiding moon hunters and weaving through grieving hunters.
And once enough time passed, she headed to the small death hunter that Ami had pointed out and stopped in front of him. There had been hesitation on the mist hunters face before crouching down and cocking her head on him.
"Hello. I'm sorry to bother you but...Would you like water? Or some bandages ? Or a ear to listen to? I'm not sure if I could do much but..." It was a patient and soft smile that she gave Otto.
Because at the end of the day, Softness is all she could over him.
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Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 11:45 am
Otto's head lifted as he was spoke to, icy gaze narrowing in on the unfamiliar trainee. There were two types of females in Otto's mind; the annoying ones and the tolerable ones. So far this one was tolerable. "I don't need nothin." He replied quickly enough, averting his gaze now to the side. Why was he even still here? The mission was over...
He stood up abruptly. He didn't want to talk to anyone. Maybe it would be better if he simply let himself wallow in silent misery all alone. He needed answers. What to do from here on out. But everyone on that field needed those same answers. They would come soon enough, he figured. In the mean time though... part of him wanted to wallow, the other wanted to move on. It had always been easier to move on when he had Tenya. With Tenya, he could do anything. But now?
Otto's hands gripped into tight fists, knuckles white. That odd pain in his throat getting stronger and more suffocating. He'd move forward later. he'd talk with Mark or something. Even if there was no answer regarding Tenya, he could at least be proactive and seek another way.
But not right now.
"I'm goin' to my room..." He mumbled darkly.
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Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 11:54 am
Nevada didn't flinch at the icy stare from the death hunter but it was close. There was a lot of emotions in those eyes and something even she couldn't relate too.
She only looked up as he stood and back down at his hands. They were white with the pressure of how much he was clenching. What had happen to make this large of a group of hunters react so?
/Pidge, best to leave them alone. They don't want help from your barely awakened self./
"Ah..Alright!" She reached over and touched his arm briefly, "Before you go, My name is Nevada of the Mist division. If you need anything please don't hesitate to ask." The hand was dropped as he left and she sighed.
Perhaps it'd be better if she moved on and looked for more injured hunters. So far...these ones were too hurt for the help.
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Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 11:56 am
After some time, Jerry's breathing returned to normal and he sat up, staring at the tablet he had thrown just a few feet away. His brows knit and he gently, carefully crawled forward to scoop it up again, cradling it carefully to his chest as he glanced around. Everyone was still in tatters. Paired off in small throngs of comfort. Candace had left. There was no sign of Sasha or Wash. Jordan sat away from his two men and Jerry had no idea what to say to any of them. He was alone. What was a Sun without their weapon? What was he without the ability to fight back? What was he without his partner? A sad, pathetic mess of a man without any redeaming qualities left. He had spent his life taking care of other people. He had no idea how to take care of himself and he knew it. He knew he was worthless. The only reason they had kept him around Deus to begin with was his ability to fight. And now he didn't even have that. It wouldn't be okay. It would never be okay. There was nothing left. Slowly, he wobbled to his feet, gently rubbing his thumb along the cold markings of the stone in his hands. Gone. Dead. No one had spoken up to say 'don't worry, we can fix this.' Any speculation was just that- hopeless, pointless optimism. He had always been filled with optimism. It had been what drove him forward. He thought if he just kept a song in his heart and kept moving and trying and being the best person he could, things would turn out alright, but no matter what he did it always seemed to turn out... wrong. And now he was alone, truly alone, more alone than he had ever been. There was no one left to turn to for comfort. There was no one there to tell him it would be okay. No one there to call him names and break him out of whatever depressed revere he was stuck in. Just him and his broken, battered brain and no will to keep smiling. A song couldn't fix this. He didn't feel like singing. Drifting like the fog, he made his way towards the door, but paused as he approached Jordan and Rep and Harrison not too far from him. "I'm sorry," He murmured quietly to all three. It was all he could think to say. Sasha was gone. Killzone was dead. Roar was dead. Bix and Ceres and Marcus and Cael and..... He was just Jeremy Collins, the useless man with the guitar and a head full of problems. He was tired. He was done. He turned to head toward the door.
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Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 12:04 pm
Ami took a deep breath through her sobs. She needed to calm down. Lex was right, after all. People needed her, and quite frankly, she needed them. In this enormous crowd of people, she was probably the only person who experienced with weaponlessness. She needed to help those who would have trouble adjusting.
Another deep breath, and she peeked out from behind the tree. Who looked like they needed help? Her eyes caught Cass, and she thought about it, but Ami knew that was a battle she was not meant to fight. There was no way she could gently tell a woman her fiance was dead. Ami was bright enough to understand she wasn't gentle enough for that situation.
Instead, she caught Otto standing up, and once again fled to him. Helping him. The moment he began to stalk off, Ami pounced beside him. "We're headed to the same place after all." She didn't touch him. Didn't guide him, didn't try to help carry Tenya. Just walked beside him. Presence.
[ Exiting ]
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Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 12:15 pm
He flinched as she touched his arm, every nerve in his body rejecting her attempts at comfort. His gaze narrowed until she was done talking. With a breathy huff he pushed past her. "Whatever."
In that moment he'd expected a sassy nagging from Tenya about making friends.
But the voice was not there.
He stopped. Turned his head back, then sighed. "Fine... I'm Otto.." He mumbled back, then continued on his way until Ami joined him.
"Ohya?" He mumbled to her miserably, his gaze falling to the floor as he dragged his heavy feet toward the dorms.
[[Exit]]
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Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 12:35 pm
Jordan looked up at the words, staring blankly at Jerry. He managed a tiny twitch of a smile, though his eyes were unfocused and there was no real emotion in the expression. Then he let his head bow again. His fingers never stopped tracing the lines etched into the tablet in his lap.
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Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 1:32 pm
Wilson's persistence about his arm only made the moon hunter laugh, bitterly. "What would they do? Hah, does it matter? I've disobeyed orders, broken more than one rule and I've already been personally removed of my weapon. I don't think they'll be forgiving me anytime soon. Regardless of the condition of my ******** arm." He grit his teeth together, slamming his fist into the ground. "I don't even want it! Deus can shove it!"
Survival, miracles, they were all words without meaning here. They would survive, sure. Maybe even a few years before they finally bit the dust. Just long enough to watch everyone around them to die and not be even granted the right to try and save them.
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