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Voting closed: July 28, 2013, 09:40:58 pm

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Patricia Garfien
Age: 37
Equipment: Backpack :Surgical bag, hatchet, (Speed loader), rosary, glasses, Glasses case
HP: 7
Stats:
Int: 9
Str: 11
Agi: 10
Skills: General Medic(3), Small Arms (3), Shotgun (2), Sub-machine gun (2)
Advantages: She has steady hands, and is very calm in high stress situations. This can be a lifesaver in the field.
Disadvantages: Territorial about her work, needs glasses/contacts(farsighted), and a functional alcoholic.
Perks: Excellent bedside manner.
Quirks: Racist. Yep. Against EVERYONE. Not to the point where she dislikes them, just the point where she believes just about every stereotype there is. Curiously enough, not religious, or homophobic, or sexist. I can change this if it might cause problems.
Bio: Patricia grew up in southern Texaz, raised by two rich white parents who fit every stereotype of rich white people there was, or almost. They did love their daughter, but they were also assholes to most people below their station. When she became a surgeon in college, they were delighted to see their little girl take up such a proud profession. When the chupacabras started striking, she managed to save her brother's life, barely, but had to run, and he was left behind. She rode a horse for hours, eventually letting the poor thing rest, where she was taken in by some kind colored people. Long story short, she ended up joining the Archangel foundation, to help keep the fighting men alive. That said, being a Texan, she's not bad with a pistol either...

Charlie slams the lid behind you as you begin retreating, as you quickly think of something you could use to start a fire, as you and the team continue retreating. You think quickly...You could use electricity, quickly using your hatchet to crash down a wall and use the wires to light a fire, though on what is anyone's guess. But the shogoth is incredibly close, and that would take a lot of time. You still have the antiseptics you where going to throw on it, you may be capable of starting a fire with the flammable kind if you find some other things to spark it. The only other things nearby are the fake wallpaper of the house, and a few wooden doors.

What do you do?

[Xanmyral]

[Damn, shoulda remembered that. You even hinted at that earlier in the illusion, but with the giant bug didn't think about the lighting situation. Ah well, just gotta think of an excuse good enough, I probably missed the boat on that though... Although, seems I just now remembered that I forgot earlier either way. When Alec saw the ring of spiders with Tommy duking it out with those three, I forgot Tommy was there and had Alec do a running leap towards the circle. Welp. Then again, Tommy was busy, so beats me what he actually saw.]

Alec mentally growled. Of course, light, how could he forget something so simple? Dammit. His mind scrambles to think of some excuse... Extreme dark adaptation? Going off of their lights? Adrenaline? Mixture of the three? He noted that Helena was also not among those with lights, but pushed such thoughts away for now. He went about the task silently, not sure if there's anything he should say, there's too much going on in the situation to worry about such things now. What happens will happen, all he can do is try to run damage control. Although, that's starting to seem what this whole mission is.

Moving to the holes, he felt along them to confirm that they were real and not more trickery. A part of his mind whispers to him that he should take the fight to it, go into its tunnel and squash it, but he ignored such whispering as it would be abandoning the squad, dangerously so. Alec even flicked his flashlight on momentarily, to see if there were shadows, then double checking said shadows, before flicking it back off. Spiders see with vibrations, so not like it matters if there's light or not, and with all that's happened in this mission he's tired of being tricked. With all these confirmations, he turns back to the group. "Real."

[Rolepgeek]

"Fire hurts it right? And we dun' need the detonator anymore? Get anythin' and everythin' flammable, start makin' a barricade out of it! We can set it on fire to block it, right?"

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Alec Rowe
Age: 27
Equipment: Sledge hammer, pack of cigarets (2), Lighter (full), flashlight, Ares Shrike, 144 5.56 rounds (Loaded).
HP: 15
Stats
Int: 8
Str: 15
Agi: 7
Skills: Close Combat (3), Demolition (3), Heavy weapons (2)
Advantages: Determined
Disadvantages: Chain-Smoker, Stressed
Perks: Large Frame, Good Samaritan, Quiet
Quirks: Quiet, Good Samaritan, Large Frame
Bio: Alec grew up in a big city in the US. He was large by most standards, even as a kid, and its served him well enough. He's never been the most dexterous, indeed Alec considers himself a bit accident prone, it not being too uncommon for him to bump into things due to his large frame. He's never been the brightest either, didn't do too bad in school but did noticeably lag behind some of the other students. It wasn't that he couldn't apply what he learned, it was that it simply took him longer to learn something that came more naturally to others.

But, what he prides himself in is his strength. Being large, most people let him be as who would want to mess with that one kid about a foot or two taller than about everyone else? That was always fine with him, left him time to himself. Alec always appreciated his time alone, enjoyed it indeed. For when he was alone, all the pressures of the world just slipped away from him, he could relax without having to feel like he was constantly playing catch-up with everyone around him. He never really had to work hard to make his body strong, it always just seemed to be so. Knocks he's taken would often harm others, but to him it was just something he'd shrug off. Alec never found a reason to voice his pain, it was always something that was passing, something he often forgot about five minutes later anyway, so why give it a voice? He's gotten more than one weird look for stubbing his toe and taking it in silent stride with nothing more than a grimace.

But indeed, what he prided himself on the most however, was strength of spirit. While he may not of been the most brightest, he still tried his hardest to learn, while he may not of been the most dexterous, he still tried his hardest to watch his step as he could. From what he's seen, his strength has been a boon to him, one that he should use to help instead of hurt people. He's often used to giving it his all when he needs to, so he shies not from hard work.

Joining the Archangels wasn't that big of a leap for him. While he would of preferred to make instead of break, he understands that he has a certain talent with stuff and before he joined Archangel, he was a demolistionist. Not the kind that worked with bombs mind you, more the kind that worked with the machines, wielded a jack hammer or a sledge. People would often have things brought up that they didn't wish there anymore, so he was paid to bring it down. When the troubles began, and became a threat, he didn't panic but rather went to see what he could do to help as best he could. This led him to Archangel

After checking it over, you confirm that the holes are real. Oto nodded, as if expect that was so, before speaking once again, his hands both behind his back, after fixing his hat over his eyes. "Then we can deduce that the spider was attacking from under us. The illusions lined up perfectly with the holes, meaning it was unlikely to be a sneak attack, it would have been more efficient to put the illusions elsewhere, simply attacking without giving warning. So the Freak wishes for us to dismiss the holes. That likely means it is about to collapse the floor, probably onto some razor webbing."

Anything to say at this point?

----------

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Patricia Garfien
Age: 37
Equipment: Backpack :Surgical bag, hatchet, (Speed loader), rosary, glasses, Glasses case
HP: 7
Stats:
Int: 9
Str: 11
Agi: 10
Skills: General Medic(3), Small Arms (3), Shotgun (2), Sub-machine gun (2)
Advantages: She has steady hands, and is very calm in high stress situations. This can be a lifesaver in the field.
Disadvantages: Territorial about her work, needs glasses/contacts(farsighted), and a functional alcoholic.
Perks: Excellent bedside manner.
Quirks: Racist. Yep. Against EVERYONE. Not to the point where she dislikes them, just the point where she believes just about every stereotype there is. Curiously enough, not religious, or homophobic, or sexist. I can change this if it might cause problems.
Bio: Patricia grew up in southern Texaz, raised by two rich white parents who fit every stereotype of rich white people there was, or almost. They did love their daughter, but they were also assholes to most people below their station. When she became a surgeon in college, they were delighted to see their little girl take up such a proud profession. When the chupacabras started striking, she managed to save her brother's life, barely, but had to run, and he was left behind. She rode a horse for hours, eventually letting the poor thing rest, where she was taken in by some kind colored people. Long story short, she ended up joining the Archangel foundation, to help keep the fighting men alive. That said, being a Texan, she's not bad with a pistol either...

"Unlikely!" Goldman stated, as he runs parallel to you down the hallway. "It appears to have gathered water, and managed to bring it up here. Unless we can get an inferno going in the few seconds we have, he will likely extinguish anything we can prepare..." "Fire can't solve ALL your problems..." Apollo starts, still running a bit ahead of you half holding Colt. "Just most of them!" Artemis finishes, holding the other half. 

Behind you, you hear a metallic crashing, then the sound of water moving around, like some one was splashing around in a bathtub. Looks like your friend is catching up.

What do you do now?

[Rolepgeek]

"Charlie, take Colt! We need to get out of here, now! Everyone else, get all the explosives you have, start handing me 'em!"

Patricia is gonna make a really fucking big boom with what she can get, trying to strap it together with whatever she has on hand(medical tape?) and make it so it can detonate once in the Shogoth. Maybe one of her friends can help.

[Xanmyral]

Alec listened to what Oto was saying, looking back at the holes. Collapse the place? He also mildly wondered why he was saying such plans out loud, wouldn't the spider hear? He recalled David saying they couldn't, they do things by vibration, but... Well, that draws the illusions he faced earlier into question, specially the one with Fake-Tommy telling him about Helena's supposed ring. How would they be able to respond to what he's saying if they couldn't understand what he was saying in some degree?

Maybe this was the point with what Oto was saying, knowing the spider could hear it... A ploy? He couldn't tell what went on, nor is going on, in Oto's head. Alec didn't want to ruin any plan Oto had, but on the same hand if this was something Oto truly didn't know it was an important thing to say... His usually worried, anxious nature was starting to peer through the salve-induced confidence and anger, or at least it seemed like that to him. "Can't it hear this? They speak in illusions." After a few moments, he looked at the floor, then back to the group. "Should we move?"

[And with sadness, I broke the 'no more than ten spoken words a post' rule.]

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Patricia Garfien
Age: 37
Equipment: Backpack :Surgical bag, hatchet, (Speed loader), rosary, glasses, Glasses case
HP: 7
Stats:
Int: 9
Str: 11
Agi: 10
Skills: General Medic(3), Small Arms (3), Shotgun (2), Sub-machine gun (2)
Advantages: She has steady hands, and is very calm in high stress situations. This can be a lifesaver in the field.
Disadvantages: Territorial about her work, needs glasses/contacts(farsighted), and a functional alcoholic.
Perks: Excellent bedside manner.
Quirks: Racist. Yep. Against EVERYONE. Not to the point where she dislikes them, just the point where she believes just about every stereotype there is. Curiously enough, not religious, or homophobic, or sexist. I can change this if it might cause problems.
Bio: Patricia grew up in southern Texaz, raised by two rich white parents who fit every stereotype of rich white people there was, or almost. They did love their daughter, but they were also assholes to most people below their station. When she became a surgeon in college, they were delighted to see their little girl take up such a proud profession. When the chupacabras started striking, she managed to save her brother's life, barely, but had to run, and he was left behind. She rode a horse for hours, eventually letting the poor thing rest, where she was taken in by some kind colored people. Long story short, she ended up joining the Archangel foundation, to help keep the fighting men alive. That said, being a Texan, she's not bad with a pistol either...

Charlie runs up from behind, grabbing Colt out of the twins hands and putting Colt over his shoulder, wearing him like a backpack, as he continues to jog past you. The rest of the squad checks themselves over for a few seconds as they run, only for Apollo to shout "We don't have any! We gave all our explosives to you to make that firebomb!" over the communicator, as the Shogoth burst through the hallway, only several feet behind you now, destroying part of the trap door easily as it burst through. Water darkens the wallpaper as the beast gets ever closer...

What do you do now?

-------------------

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Alec Rowe
Age: 27
Equipment: Sledge hammer, pack of cigarets (2), Lighter (full), flashlight, Ares Shrike, 144 5.56 rounds (Loaded).
HP: 15
Stats
Int: 8
Str: 15
Agi: 7
Skills: Close Combat (3), Demolition (3), Heavy weapons (2)
Advantages: Determined
Disadvantages: Chain-Smoker, Stressed
Perks: Large Frame, Good Samaritan, Quiet
Quirks: Quiet, Good Samaritan, Large Frame
Bio: Alec grew up in a big city in the US. He was large by most standards, even as a kid, and its served him well enough. He's never been the most dexterous, indeed Alec considers himself a bit accident prone, it not being too uncommon for him to bump into things due to his large frame. He's never been the brightest either, didn't do too bad in school but did noticeably lag behind some of the other students. It wasn't that he couldn't apply what he learned, it was that it simply took him longer to learn something that came more naturally to others.

But, what he prides himself in is his strength. Being large, most people let him be as who would want to mess with that one kid about a foot or two taller than about everyone else? That was always fine with him, left him time to himself. Alec always appreciated his time alone, enjoyed it indeed. For when he was alone, all the pressures of the world just slipped away from him, he could relax without having to feel like he was constantly playing catch-up with everyone around him. He never really had to work hard to make his body strong, it always just seemed to be so. Knocks he's taken would often harm others, but to him it was just something he'd shrug off. Alec never found a reason to voice his pain, it was always something that was passing, something he often forgot about five minutes later anyway, so why give it a voice? He's gotten more than one weird look for stubbing his toe and taking it in silent stride with nothing more than a grimace.

But indeed, what he prided himself on the most however, was strength of spirit. While he may not of been the most brightest, he still tried his hardest to learn, while he may not of been the most dexterous, he still tried his hardest to watch his step as he could. From what he's seen, his strength has been a boon to him, one that he should use to help instead of hurt people. He's often used to giving it his all when he needs to, so he shies not from hard work.

Joining the Archangels wasn't that big of a leap for him. While he would of preferred to make instead of break, he understands that he has a certain talent with stuff and before he joined Archangel, he was a demolistionist. Not the kind that worked with bombs mind you, more the kind that worked with the machines, wielded a jack hammer or a sledge. People would often have things brought up that they didn't wish there anymore, so he was paid to bring it down. When the troubles began, and became a threat, he didn't panic but rather went to see what he could do to help as best he could. This led him to Archangel

Oto stairs at you silently as you speak, only shaking his head slightly as you ask to move. Suddenly, there is a movment as if there was an earthquake, the ground below you beginning to break apart. Several long, hairy arms crack through the ground, beating up wildly, as if someone had just thrown the entire floor into a wood chipper. With in moments, the ground you where standing on was turned into dust, filling the air with debris. You could now see the entirety of the massive spider below the dust as you begin to fall. The massive beast had dug itself a large hole, big enough to stand  under, as well as the large tunnel. It at least doubled the size of the tunnel, and you are falling down the rest of it. In the middle, the spider is laying on its back, all eight legs kicking up in a flurry of limbs, it is almost as if he was using illusions to make the attack more impressive.

Anything you want to do before you hit the ground?

[Xanmyral]

When Oto shook his head, Alec wondered if he had a plan. He hoped he had a plan. When the ground started to break, the idea that he had a plan was lessening. Now in free-fall, looking at the great beast of a spider, he at least consoled himself with there being no razor-wire webs. But there were still the legs to worry about... Clicking on the flashlight to hopefully aid in determining what is illusion and what is not, Alec tried to prevent any grievous harm to himself by the fall, possibly by grabbing onto an edge on the wall if possible, attempts to dodge out of the way of flailing spider limbs, and not land on his head. Alec would also attempt to help his allies however he could, possibly by catching them if he manages to snag a ledge, pushing them out of the way if a limb is about to hit them, or even possibly using himself to cushion their landing if things aren't looking good. He thinks he can handle a bad landing, but he's not so sure about the others.

[I can't help but get the feeling that either everything is going wrong, or everything is going right. I'm pretty sure that it's either one or the other. Hm... That or its some third option, this is all an illusion and Alec wakes up after getting meshed by the razor wire webbings.]

EDIT: Paranoid OOC

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Alec Rowe
Age: 27
Equipment: Sledge hammer, pack of cigarets (2), Lighter (full), flashlight, Ares Shrike, 144 5.56 rounds (Loaded).
HP: 15
Stats
Int: 8
Str: 15
Agi: 7
Skills: Close Combat (3), Demolition (3), Heavy weapons (2)
Advantages: Determined
Disadvantages: Chain-Smoker, Stressed
Perks: Large Frame, Good Samaritan, Quiet
Quirks: Quiet, Good Samaritan, Large Frame
Bio: Alec grew up in a big city in the US. He was large by most standards, even as a kid, and its served him well enough. He's never been the most dexterous, indeed Alec considers himself a bit accident prone, it not being too uncommon for him to bump into things due to his large frame. He's never been the brightest either, didn't do too bad in school but did noticeably lag behind some of the other students. It wasn't that he couldn't apply what he learned, it was that it simply took him longer to learn something that came more naturally to others.

But, what he prides himself in is his strength. Being large, most people let him be as who would want to mess with that one kid about a foot or two taller than about everyone else? That was always fine with him, left him time to himself. Alec always appreciated his time alone, enjoyed it indeed. For when he was alone, all the pressures of the world just slipped away from him, he could relax without having to feel like he was constantly playing catch-up with everyone around him. He never really had to work hard to make his body strong, it always just seemed to be so. Knocks he's taken would often harm others, but to him it was just something he'd shrug off. Alec never found a reason to voice his pain, it was always something that was passing, something he often forgot about five minutes later anyway, so why give it a voice? He's gotten more than one weird look for stubbing his toe and taking it in silent stride with nothing more than a grimace.

But indeed, what he prided himself on the most however, was strength of spirit. While he may not of been the most brightest, he still tried his hardest to learn, while he may not of been the most dexterous, he still tried his hardest to watch his step as he could. From what he's seen, his strength has been a boon to him, one that he should use to help instead of hurt people. He's often used to giving it his all when he needs to, so he shies not from hard work.

Joining the Archangels wasn't that big of a leap for him. While he would of preferred to make instead of break, he understands that he has a certain talent with stuff and before he joined Archangel, he was a demolistionist. Not the kind that worked with bombs mind you, more the kind that worked with the machines, wielded a jack hammer or a sledge. People would often have things brought up that they didn't wish there anymore, so he was paid to bring it down. When the troubles began, and became a threat, he didn't panic but rather went to see what he could do to help as best he could. This led him to Archangel

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

[I can't help but get the feeling that either everything is going wrong, or everything is going right. I'm pretty sure that it's either one or the other. Hm... That or its some third option, this is all an illusion and Alec wakes up after getting meshed by the razor wire webbings.]

EDIT: Paranoid OOC

Wasn't the whole purpose of this dungeon to make you paranoid?

Ah, I am tired today, making a lot of simple mistakes in spelling.
--------------

You look at the wall, your enhanced eyes immediately looking toward a nook you can fit your hand. You jab your hand into the rocky concrete, pain filling your arm as your body jerks at your socket, as well as the jagged rock biting into your hand. However your super strength can take it, and you where able to look around easily moment later, though the pain from your injuries is starting to add up.

Looking up from your position, stuck just a few feet from the point where you had stood on solid ground, you can see the other members of your squad. Oto and David where stuck together high above you, to the roof. Otonashi was holding a grappling hook fired from his gun, it looked a lot like the one that Tommy had used when he jumped off the subway, same thing for the strap. Is that what he had behind his back? Helena was holding on to Tommy's hand, hanging from a giant spider's leg, jabbed into the side of the subway just below ground level. The leg was jabbed into the wall, oozing green goo from one side, as Tommy drew his shotgun. Everyone looked safe.

What do you do now?

[Rolepgeek]

Patricia pants as they run, looking over her shoulder at the flood. Her life flashes before her eyes, and they harden. She's the newest member. She brought this on them. And damnit! She was from Texas! Texans did not run away, even if it was an Alamo situation. This was an Alamo situation. "Find a window and jump." She says, praying to God that this would work. The woman turns and brings her trusty hatchet to bear on the beast, screaming with defiance as it plunges over her, slashing fervently just to give her companions a chance.

((I'mma gonna die one way or another. Might as well go out in a flood of glory. I wonder if the rosary she's wearing will do anything. Probably not.))

[Xanmyral]

[Well its succeeded beautifully. Not only am I paranoid of whats going on, I'm pretty sure my allies are as well. Which just ramps up the paranoia on all sides. I mean hell, Alec goes missing for a who-knows-how-long stretch of time, all of the sudden he shows up again when there's a giant fucking spider, doing shit people haven't seen him do before, knowing where the hostages are. Possibly how he's also more wounded than should be possible for what he's doing, what with the holes in his sides and the possibly visible purple swelling in his shoulder. Got the feeling that without the salve he'd of been dead by now.

@Rolepgeek: I'm sure you'll get out of it, just some quick thinking, or maybe bizarre thinking will do it. If not, some good ole fashion grit maybe?]

Alec grunted audibly from the pain, before digging into the rock more as if it spite himself for feeling pain. "Everyone alright?" He tried not to let the pain color his voice. He looked to confirm that everyone doesn't seem to be dead or dying, then looks down at the spider to see what it was doing. Alec's getting really tired of this damn bug.

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Patricia Garfien
Age: 37
Equipment: Backpack :Surgical bag, hatchet, (Speed loader), rosary, glasses, Glasses case
HP: 3
Stats:
Int: 9
Str: 11
Agi: 10
Skills: General Medic(3), Small Arms (3), Shotgun (2), Sub-machine gun (2)
Advantages: She has steady hands, and is very calm in high stress situations. This can be a lifesaver in the field.
Disadvantages: Territorial about her work, needs glasses/contacts(farsighted), and a functional alcoholic.
Perks: Excellent bedside manner.
Quirks: Racist. Yep. Against EVERYONE. Not to the point where she dislikes them, just the point where she believes just about every stereotype there is. Curiously enough, not religious, or homophobic, or sexist. I can change this if it might cause problems.
Bio: Patricia grew up in southern Texaz, raised by two rich white parents who fit every stereotype of rich white people there was, or almost. They did love their daughter, but they were also assholes to most people below their station. When she became a surgeon in college, they were delighted to see their little girl take up such a proud profession. When the chupacabras started striking, she managed to save her brother's life, barely, but had to run, and he was left behind. She rode a horse for hours, eventually letting the poor thing rest, where she was taken in by some kind colored people. Long story short, she ended up joining the Archangel foundation, to help keep the fighting men alive. That said, being a Texan, she's not bad with a pistol either...

You turn around, taking your stance after giving your orders. "Patricia!" the twins yell, turning around to assist you. Goldman runs up, pushing their shoulders to continue running. "Keep running. This is an order." He said, not looking back as he continued running. The twins took another look back before hesitantly running as well.

You face the rushing creature coming toward you, dozens of bloodshot eyes focusing on you as the black tar of the shoggoth mixed with the white water, shooting at you like a bullet. With in seconds it was on you, you bring your hatchet down hard. It crashes through the water and syrup like tar, flinging a little of it sideways. But the monstrous goo continued, ramming directly into you. You fly backwards as if you had been hit by a car, your left arm hitting the strong wall with a *crack!*. The shogoth continues to rush over you, running over your body as if it was a flood. You swing your hatchet desperately, shaving off a little more of the still large beast before you as it starts to devour you with a speed that you had not seen before. Starting at your legs, you are pulled into the mass of the shogoth.

The air leaves your lungs as you are pulled into a world of tar and darkness. The sensation of drowning comes over you, as you begin to inhale water, trying desperately to get out a few pathetic slashes with your hatchet, struggling for air. Well you had a pretty good run. You managed some time for your comrades, maybe they will still live...

Some air comes into your lungs, as you come into a kind of air pocket appears inside the shogoth. You take a small breath of air before being dragged back down by your ankle, being bobbed up and down several times, panic filling you as you continue to drown. The shogoth allows you for a few breaths of the stale air. You can see the outlines of a mouth form in front of you, however you are in almost complete darkness, unable to see anything more then outlines. The mouth, apparently toothless in the form of a large grin, begins to taunt you. "You have caused me a lot of pain...you damned wretch. I am going to enjoy eating you..." it stated, as you feel the blackness of the shogoth go over your entire body. Eyes begin to form around the mouth, all focused on you. Suddenly, your entire body fills with pain, as if you had been stabbed with a thousand needles. You are then again pushed under the water, being almost drowned, then giving a breath of air, before once again being dragged into the water to drown. Inky blobs begin to form, fist like projectiles that the shogoth begins to punch you with, hitting you with the force of a human arm each. He bloodies your face up, while drowning you, and filling the rest of your body with the stinging needles...He must REALLY hate you.

Suddenly, the shogoth releases you. You begin drowning in the water, being able to taste your own blood. Your body feels as if it is slowly breaking apart, as if you are being digested. But suddenly, the mass of the shogoth shifts, as if you had been forgotten. You end up with your head sticking outside of the shogoth, with the rest of your body awkwardly positioned between water and the mass of the shogoth.

You hear two people speaking. "What are you doing back? I thought you had left after setting the spell...." The shogoth begins. You turn to see what it is talking to, seeing the cultist that you had saved what feels like an eternity ago! "You have failed your mission." The cultist said harshly, as he adjusted his sunglasses. "The squad has escaped. So you will now die." he finished. "But.....I killed one of them! I would have defeated the rest in due time..." the shogoth rebutted. "Your mission was to kill the squad and to keep the detonator safe. It was not to lose the detonator and kill one of them. Look on the bright side, you get to be with him now..." the cultist stated, as he put his arms out to the side. His muscles began to bulge, breaking apart like rope, transforming into pale pink tentacles. The tentacles continued to break apart, growing long but thin, as they go around the corners of the house, continuing to bulge out into new tentacles at an amazingly fast rate. In mere seconds they return, each holding a gun of a fallen cultist, from every fallen cultist. Dozens of varied guns now fill the other side of the hallway, all pointing at the shogoth. "No...Please! PLEASE GIVE ME A SECOND CHANCE! I ...I will do anything! I don't want to die!" the shogoth began to plea pitifully. The guns all began to fire, the deafening sound filling the hallway as bullets began to tear apart the shogoth, thousands simply ripping it to pieces as it pleaded futile. Within seconds, all that had remained of the shogoth was a splatter on the wall. You lay in a puddle of water, unable to move much as you fill your lungs with air.

The guns clatter to the floor, sending spent shells clattering, as the cultist's arms return to normal. He fixes his sunglasses one again, while speaking. "Oh? Didn't see you there..." he said, with some hint of sarcasm, much less harsh then before. "I guess we are even now. You save my life, now I have saved your life." he continued, turning around and putting his arms behind his head, as he casually walks away....

Is there anything you want to (attempt) to do before the quest ends?
-----------

Ill have to do the other guy tomorrow, I have to go to bed now, sorry.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

@Rolepgeek: I'm sure you'll get out of it, just some quick thinking, or maybe bizarre thinking will do it. If not, some good ole fashion grit maybe?]

Looks like it was the often overlooked trait of compassion. You didn't think I just forgot all the choices you have made, did you? I just wrote three times as much as usually, and was unable to write your part...

[Xanmyral]

[Hah, nah its quite alright. Love call backs to previous choices, and the length of what is written is what is written, trust me I know. Get some sleep, you earned it.]

[Rolepgeek]

"Wait," Patricia manages to croak, coughing up what she hoped was the last of the water in her lungs. Sitting up, wincing at a pain in her hip that hadn't been there before, she sat up. "I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. Probably not something I want. But thank you." Her momma always told her to be polite, no matter the situation. Once the man'd left, she stood up carefully, flinching again, and tried to see what was wrong with her now. Well, there was some bleed leaking down her left leg, that probably wasn't good. She'd probably go into shock soon. And her left arm was at a weird angle. Gingerly, she touched it, and hissed at the way it felt. That was definitely broken. But she didn't have her bag anymore. And if shock set in before she got help, she might die. So Patricia looked around, gathered up what she could in her right arm, and started limping to where she thought the rest of the team had gone.

OOC: That was pretty awesome, and I didn't honestly think I would survive. I think Patricia may have a fear of drowning now, though. I'm thinking one of the bullets hit her in the left hip, deflecting off the bone without hitting anything too important, for that part of it.

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Alec Rowe
Age: 27
Equipment: Sledge hammer, pack of cigarets (2), Lighter (full), flashlight, Ares Shrike, 144 5.56 rounds (Loaded).
HP: 15
Stats
Int: 8
Str: 15
Agi: 7
Skills: Close Combat (3), Demolition (3), Heavy weapons (2)
Advantages: Determined
Disadvantages: Chain-Smoker, Stressed
Perks: Large Frame, Good Samaritan, Quiet
Quirks: Quiet, Good Samaritan, Large Frame
Bio: Alec grew up in a big city in the US. He was large by most standards, even as a kid, and its served him well enough. He's never been the most dexterous, indeed Alec considers himself a bit accident prone, it not being too uncommon for him to bump into things due to his large frame. He's never been the brightest either, didn't do too bad in school but did noticeably lag behind some of the other students. It wasn't that he couldn't apply what he learned, it was that it simply took him longer to learn something that came more naturally to others.

But, what he prides himself in is his strength. Being large, most people let him be as who would want to mess with that one kid about a foot or two taller than about everyone else? That was always fine with him, left him time to himself. Alec always appreciated his time alone, enjoyed it indeed. For when he was alone, all the pressures of the world just slipped away from him, he could relax without having to feel like he was constantly playing catch-up with everyone around him. He never really had to work hard to make his body strong, it always just seemed to be so. Knocks he's taken would often harm others, but to him it was just something he'd shrug off. Alec never found a reason to voice his pain, it was always something that was passing, something he often forgot about five minutes later anyway, so why give it a voice? He's gotten more than one weird look for stubbing his toe and taking it in silent stride with nothing more than a grimace.

But indeed, what he prided himself on the most however, was strength of spirit. While he may not of been the most brightest, he still tried his hardest to learn, while he may not of been the most dexterous, he still tried his hardest to watch his step as he could. From what he's seen, his strength has been a boon to him, one that he should use to help instead of hurt people. He's often used to giving it his all when he needs to, so he shies not from hard work.

Joining the Archangels wasn't that big of a leap for him. While he would of preferred to make instead of break, he understands that he has a certain talent with stuff and before he joined Archangel, he was a demolistionist. Not the kind that worked with bombs mind you, more the kind that worked with the machines, wielded a jack hammer or a sledge. People would often have things brought up that they didn't wish there anymore, so he was paid to bring it down. When the troubles began, and became a threat, he didn't panic but rather went to see what he could do to help as best he could. This led him to Archangel

You fix your position on the rocks, blood staining it a bit as you hold yourself somewhat stably. "Just as planed." Oto said over the communicator after you ask your question. Suddenly your squad begins its counter assault on the belly up spider still flurrying below you. High above, Otonashi and David begin to rain grenades, lobbing down several of the spherical explosives each. The spider's legs continue to bash at them, sending them flying down the tunnel, to explode in a flower of fire harmlessly.

As the spider was distracted, Helena pulled Tommy up to the leg with her. She then took something from her back, a large black box that kind of looks like an X-box with a stick tied to it. Tommy fixes it around the barrel of his shotgun, the black box fitting with some difficulty. Helena then lifted Tommy up with one hand, hanging on with the other hand, as Tommy uses both hands to aim his weapon. A smile broad smile finds itself on Tommy's face, and the light of an explosion shines off of his eye piece. The black box expands, springing outward, shifting around like a puzzle. It reminded you of the jetcopter. Within seconds, it becomes a rocket pod, five squares with several holes in each of them. One square was in the middle, with two on each side, two more on top, making a kind of cut out box. "MAUL CRUCIFIX!" Tommy shouts out, locking on target while visibly shaking under the weight of the new addition. His finger goes to pull the trigger, having perfectly aimed at the still distracted spider....

However, fate had other ideas. A stray grenade from above hit the leg Helena was holding onto, bouncing twice on it. Helena looked up, let out a small sound, and let go, causing both Helena and Tommy to plummet to the ground. The grenade above them exploded, turning the leg into shrapnel. Below, Tommy and Helena hit the ground, though somehow they both seem alright. Your eyes can see them both perfectly. However, Tommy's shotgun had fallen from his hand, spinning toward the spider who had just noticed their presence. Tommy begins to go for his gun, however Helena pulls him up as one of the spider's mighty legs crashes toward them, and Helena drags Tommy up the rest of the wall, running up it as if it was level ground...

What do you do now?

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Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Patricia Garfien
Age: 37
Equipment:
HP: 3
Stats:
Int: 9
Str: 11
Agi: 10
Skills: General Medic(3), Small Arms (3), Shotgun (2), Sub-machine gun (2)
Advantages: She has steady hands, and is very calm in high stress situations. This can be a lifesaver in the field.
Disadvantages: Territorial about her work, needs glasses/contacts(farsighted), and a functional alcoholic.
Perks: Excellent bedside manner.
Quirks: Racist. Yep. Against EVERYONE. Not to the point where she dislikes them, just the point where she believes just about every stereotype there is. Curiously enough, not religious, or homophobic, or sexist. I can change this if it might cause problems.
Bio: Patricia grew up in southern Texaz, raised by two rich white parents who fit every stereotype of rich white people there was, or almost. They did love their daughter, but they were also assholes to most people below their station. When she became a surgeon in college, they were delighted to see their little girl take up such a proud profession. When the chupacabras started striking, she managed to save her brother's life, barely, but had to run, and he was left behind. She rode a horse for hours, eventually letting the poor thing rest, where she was taken in by some kind colored people. Long story short, she ended up joining the Archangel foundation, to help keep the fighting men alive. That said, being a Texan, she's not bad with a pistol either...

"I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career...." - where I had assumed Patricia was going

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The cultist continued walking, stopping for only a second when you had asked to wait, the sound of his feet shuffling filling the room. He leaves, without looking back, or giving any other hint to even acknowledging your existence.

You begin lifting your own body up, stumbling several times as you attempt to follow your comrades. One time you fall to the ground, face first, catching yourself best you can with your one good arm. As you struggle to lift yourself up, a voice comes over your communicator. "Current scans suggest all clear for the top of the house. I repeat, current scans suggest all clear for the house!" Scout stated, in a businesslike way that you would expect someone to speak over a police radio. "Alright. Artemis, Apollo, go in for extract." Goldman had stated, with the sound of helicopter blades spinning the background. "How the hell would she be still alive?" Charlie stated, over the communicator. "We should leave. We have an injured soldier, and there is probably still hostiles under ground, it would be dangerous and stupid to send someone back in..." "Actually, the tentacles we saw may have done something..." Scout stated, his communicator filled with static. "Maybe Patricia copied the tats from way back when? In any case, I am picking up a living human on the sonar, at least it is moving..."

In several minutes, after you get up and start walking once again, the twins rush toward you. "Patricia!" They both state, worried. They get on either side of you, making their hands into a kind of chair, lifting you out the open door. The jetcopter is waiting, the blades spinning around the grass, with Charlie watching the door intently with the machine gun pointed directly at the door. The twins inform the rest of the squad about the Shogoth goo being found, and Goldman turns off the Helicopter. The rest of your squad then preforms first-aid the best they can, using the first aid kit on the helicopter and your advice. In less then an hour, a military air ambulance comes to pick you and Colt up, having been called by Scout when it was reported Colt had been injured.

You are lifted to the nearest medical facility, where the primary treatment is done to you. You get patched up, bandaged, and given painkiller, but they did not do any surgery or anything to deep. You stay there for the rest of the day, mostly resting. By nightfall, a group of military medics carry you and scout out on a stretcher, bringing you to a second helicopter. The helicopter was a bright white, with several black runes, symbols covering the whole thing like some sort of graffiti. Many of them where religious, there where crosses, ankhs, weird skribbels, the medical snake you recognize, eyes, and much more, all breaking the otherwise sterile appearance of the helicopter. You and Colt are brought to the back, which looks a lot like your own jetcopter, but wider and more open. You lay down on stretcher-like chairs. Two people come to help you, apparently the only two medics sent from Archangel. One was a man, dressed in a doctor's uniform with a green mask, looking like a standard hospital gear, but with similar ruins to those on the helicopter. The second was what appeared to be a nun, whispering prayers as she gently put several IV like things in your arm, and an air mask on your face.

You fall asleep soon after that, waking up in a room several hours later. What do you do now?