Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

I don't care.

0 (0%)

I don't care.

0 (0%)

Total Members Voted: 0

Voting closed: January 04, 2021, 02:28:47 am

[ZBridges]

Could he have ascended somehow? Or is the plague inside his mind?

"Eric, old friend. I'm afraid not. There's still work for us among the living. Is there anything I can get for you or do for you?"

Gently probe at the willpower with our willpower.

[19_EgarAlnis]

It resembles a human's, but it usually does not extend pass their physical forms. You gently probe at it with your own, and it tightens against your curious touch. Eric's drooping eyes flicker open, finding you with sudden confused focus. You do the same to a neighboring Crusader, and the woman passes out.

"Guess I'm...not so lucky." Eric gives a harsh, wracking laugh, starting to cough heavily. A medic hurries to his side, bristling with righteous indignation.

[11]"I must ask that you do-- Mother Pheonix." She stops herself from yelling at you, hesitant. "I...Major Applegate needs his rest."

"I'm fine." Eric retorts, shooting her a glare that causes her to take a step back, anger in his raspy voice. With one final look between the two of you, she turns and leaves. You pick up his chart while he drifts in and out of consciousness, his eyes finding you every time they open. You pick up his chart, flipping through the papers. Six major ruptures, muscle damages, punctured lung...self-inflicted burn on wrist...with the number of synthetic opioids they've given him, he should be dead to the world.

You almost laugh when you learn the reason why he had to do it, from a report by one of his troops....the damn Bug came out of the ground, nearly wiped the squad with a single tentacle lash. Eric grabbed it, chopped it off, then chopped off his own wrist when he noticed blood on his glove.

"I was thinking of making you Crusader General."

"I refuse."

[ZBridges]

"You are strong, Eric, and you can still contribute. Don't you want revenge on those that killed so many? We might have a chance to destroy this plague once and for all and give these demons their just rewards. This opportunity cannot be squandered."

"Can you tell me why you aren't interested in the position?"

[Superdorf]

This one's broken. Broken and angry. We'd do ill, to argue with him now.

Nod. "That is your right."

[ZBridges]

That is not the will of a broken man. We can see that his strength remains to him.

[19_EgarAlnis]

"I will fight." Eric rises to his feet, swaying unsteadily. The medic hurries back, and he pushes her away to stand with you, face to face. The smell of blood lingers on him, and you note, with a glance down to his chest, that his wounds are leaking anew into the bandages. "I will not lead more Crusaders...into that...meat grinder." His willpower lashes out at you weakly, fueled by his anger. Despite yourself, and the situation, you smile at his strength.

He grabs something from a tray nearby -- a bundle of many, many tags, each etched with a name, with a district of birth. They weigh down the chain, and he throws it at you weakly.

"Each of...those...died for me. No more."

[ZBridges]

"Eric... you're not in any condition to fight. Not yet, at least. Do you know who can stop the sort of attrition warfare that leads to death on that scale? The Crusader General. You will have full control over all strategic considerations. The lives that you could save are countless."

"Will you at least think it over?"

[Superdorf]

Motile willpower-- without Ascension. Did Alphira know of such things? Did the Interface?

{Did I?}

[19_EgarAlnis]

"No. I can't. I won't." Eric murmurs, sagging where he stands. "I can't. Please."

[1][15] There were stories, rumors, of humans of great skill and determination beginning to rise across the Empyre. Born from the hellish battles that wracked the galaxy during the Great Plague and the Strifes that followed. Strong enough to threaten an Ascended in contests of will and physical strength. Many speculated that they simply had physical cybernetic augmentations that allowed them those strengths, or were a more coherent offshoot of the Plague...now, you're not so sure.

[Superdorf]

He's... bent [plague] to his natural will, I think.

Speak soft. "I understand. I understand. You've given-- more than enough."

"Rest. Heal. You'll have your chance to fight soon enough, if you want it."

[ZBridges]

I think he may just be freakishly strong. Imagine what this one would be capable of once ascended...

[Superdorf]

Strong, to be sure-- but there's got to be more to it than that.

His will is motile. That doesn't happen without tech.

[ZBridges]

Maybe and maybe not. It is something to consider moving forward.

"Yes... you have given so much already. There may simply be nothing left within you. I would understand if you need time to rest, but I would also be confused. That isn't the Eric that I knew and admired."

[19_EgarAlnis]

Eric looks at you with an unsteady glare, letting himself be herded back to his bed by the Medic once his strength leaves him. She says nothing, adjusting the scarce cloth covering and letting him rest quietly. She leaves without another word. "I will fight." Is all he can murmur, before the strain of his actions on his weakened frame catch up to him. His eyes shut as he drifts into a drug-induced sleep.

You sigh heavily, rubbing at your face at the non-answer. You pick up the chain of names and set them on the tray beside him before you make your exit. Silas hasn't reported anything yet about the plague...that may come when the Thornton evacuation is finished. Maybe you could send a Crusader to fetch him, to help explain this oddness.

You head to the elevator, taking a trip down in the Crusader living quarters. You navigate down the long hallways and past children playing with one another as their parents look on. You come to a stop at her door, giving it a knock.

"Come in!" A voice calls, and you open it step inside. A very young, tan-skinned, brown-haired woman sits inside. She looks younger than you. Isela is reading a book at a table carved from or formed from the wall. Piles of paperwork set in front of her -- she starts when she sees you, dropping the book down and bowing at the hips. "Mothe- Mother Pheonix. I apologize for my rudeness."

"At ease. I came to speak to you. May I sit?" You gesture to the only other chair. She nods her head and reclaims her own seat.

"What do I owe this pleasure to?" Isela questions, looking across at you.

[ZBridges]

"Your potential has caught my eye and I'd like to get to know you. Can you tell me about yourself?"