There is a hard limit to the number of prime ancestors that the MC has. If you don't mind a weaker cadet branch or a rigorous, very tightly controlled life story, then it isn't an issue. The Cadets Branches have limited importance on the story, but the strict one has a great importance but isn't very open-ended.
"[...I agree, let us go somewhere else. I will try Magnus' Emissary by fire.]" You murmur tightly --, and you drop your will. Lavoisier's Scion bows her head, doing the same. William and Emma slump, looking tired, breathing hard.
"[That's for the best.]" She nods, giving you a smile in exchange. "[I feel riding in an elevator together to the pad would be anti-climatic, no? I'll fix this.]" Lavoisier's Scion crudely throws one of the chairs through the window, sending it spiraling to the mountain below. She reaches out with her will, ripping apart the plastics of another to form larger and larger wings, which she compacts and folds within the tight space.
You, having no such time requirement to summon your's, instead go to the shell-shocked Emma, who stares at Lavoisier's Scion with a slack jaw and pale countenance. You pull her tightly into a hug and then give her a kiss, which she returns when her senses return. "Pheb-e I..."
You kiss her again, speaking softly with your forehead resting against her's, embracing her. "We're going to fight-- not to the death. I will return."
Emma glances between the two of you then gives a weak, small nod. "I love you." It is about all she can manage.
"I love you too."
You unrestrain your wings, letting them heat the cold room. Lavoisier's Scion stretches one side, then the other, her lips quirking into a frown. Thick black lines stretch out from her back, and each wing almost seems to fill the room. She gives them an experimental flap and glances at you. Without further ado, she takes a running start and launches herself out of the broken window. Her wings of plastic feathers twist open, catching the wind. And she rises ungracefully into the air.
I was hoping to hear a splat...You, however, are the epitome of grace as you step out of the window and rise into the sky above your new fortress. The air here is cold, and the oxygen thin, but not so bad, not yet. Your greedy lungs work in overtime as you set off towards the north, guided by the light of the stars. You can hear Lavoisier's Scion behind you, trying to keep pace with her cumbersome wings. When you drop down onto a sandy, barren plain in the middle of a crater, she's nowhere in sight.
It takes her an hour to find you, and she scowls when she drops down.
"[You left me behind.]" Lavoisier's Scion states when she folds her wings upon her back.
"[You betrayed my trust. I don't know why you expect anything less than pettiness from me.]" You retort, bluntly. To the Scion's credit, she frowns. Then, slowly, she takes off the mask of Iyal and reveals herself. She looks similar to you, with an androgynous face, with eyes a cold, dark gray. Her hair is of the same color but shines with oil in the light of the stars, and her skin is pale, nearly translucent. She flashes you a smile filled with only slightly too pointed teeth.
"[I'm sorry.]" She states gently, genuinely, "[I am Cephie of Lavoisier, in service to Empyreal Noble Scion Magnus The Third of House Magnus.]"
"[I am Pheobe, Pheonix of Sol.]"
"[Alphira is truly dead then?]"
"[I consumed any memories and identity she might have had left.]"
Cephie gives a hesitant nod at that, "[She was a contract breaker, by all accounts. Killed her own men when they refused to flee beyond the edge of the rim, into the Neverending Void.]"
You shrug, unable to remember the deeds accused.
Cephie approaches, and you tense. She removes a small pouch, pulling out two small, round capsules. "[Do you remember these?]"
"[No.]"
"[Take all the nutrition of entire feasts, compress the atoms, and then surround it with nano-assemblers. You'll get these. Each one gives me roughly twenty-four [ uses of power] You might be different -- you're a bit more energetic than me.]"
She gets into your personal space, but you still, taking the capsule in hand, it's not water, or alcohol, or wine, but it will do. You pop the tablet into your mouth with your arm intertwined in hers. Cephie does the same, and the two of you return to your positions. Without further ceremony, the two of you return to your previous levels of willpower -- she is not as strong as you, but not so weak that you can consume her.
...she has more experience and utility."[After this,]" You begin, rising on your wings while she rips hers apart, letting them fall to the ground, "[One way or the other, we must fight the plague on this world.]"
"[I agree. Magnus, I'm sure, if you don't upset him, will render aid with that as well if it is necessary.]"
You both sit just on the edge of the other's will, her looking up at you, you looking down at her.
Then you exchange the first blow.
[12][7 vs. 6][8]
[2+1 vs. 20] Sharp darts whistle haphazardly through the air as Cephie backs up, and you fly closer, gathering your willpower up in an Inferno. You lash at her with it, striking at her physical form. The flesh of her right side boils and singes as you scour her torso and arm down to the bone. She grits her teeth, and while your will is focused on the Inferno, she lashes at you with her's. You reel, your wings failing as she interrupts the process that keeps you aloft. You bend your legs as you hit the ground, but your knee pops loudly, and you nearly buckle and fall. You do not heal -- and neither does she, wrapping the wound tightly with carbon crystals.
"[Are you so sure about your master's intent that opposing me is wise? Is our honest self-reflection so dangerous to his plans?]"
[3] "[One of your ancestors must have been a poet.]" Cephie retorts. You laugh, giving her a feral grin, which she returns in kind.
[20][14 vs 13][15]
[12+1 vs. 8] You do not make the same mistake, you concentrate your willpower into a spear while focusing your Inferno into a beam of heat. You jab haphazardly with the former, and take careful aim with the other-- Cephie focuses on shielding herself, but you interrupt her. She screams in pain as the fires wash over her, collapsing back with a heave of her chest. She shifts, dragging herself back to her feet, her torso and face a mess of burnt and charred flesh.
[9][5 vs 11][10]
[9+1 vs. 4] Cephie begins to move, dancing across the battlefield gracefully, even as you burn away the surface below with scouring flames. She doesn't retort, her burnt skin falls away to be consumed by your fires as she heals. You lash out with your willpower, and she falters, stumbling to the ground with a grunt.
[20 vs. 1] "[I'm not a good match for you.]" Cephie admits, with a pained wince as she rises, "[It might be rude to yield so quickly, but I don't think I can provide you with a good battle. Would you mind?]"
...usually these last a lot longer...I'm...I'm kinda dissapointed it was that easy. This was supposed to be our testing blows.The sun begins to rise on the horizon, as you stare down at Cephie with disappointment. "Uh..." Is about all you can stammer, as she slumps down, rubbing at her face -- is she...is she crying?!
You float above, awkwardly.
So much for experienced!
You are Pheobe Gainer AKA Alphira
Local Time: [0600] 11/21/2011
Personal Time: 5 months
Empyreal Time: NO NETWORK CONNECTION.
You're missing an arm.
Cohesion: 70%
You are peckish/color]
Nanofeasts Remaining:14
Hands: A single leather glove.
Feet: Woolen socks(hidden)
In Holster: A Crusader Cutter Hilt (250/250)
Torso:A fitted grey shirt with long, tight sleeves.
Over Body: An orange, fur-lined burnt coat.
Lower Body: New grey semi-formal, military-style pants.
Overload: Trained
Bird of Sol's Reign: Qualified
Conquerer's Aura: Initiated
Inferno : Great
Healing Factor: Apprentice
-
Endurance Boost: Amateur.
-
Strength Boost: Amateur.
Matter Manipulation:Silicon:: Competent
Skill:
Charisma: Apprentice
Skill:
Attrition Warfare: Apprentice
Skill:
Marksmanship: Proficient
Grandmother(adopted), Handler: Mother Nicole Gainer
--Contactable in person.
--High Influence with Scholars, Crusaders, the Thornton Family
--Current lawful ruler of Steelworks 9 Region (Crusader Supported)
Organization: The Children of SEED
Ten individuals, with the minds of automata and the bodies of men and women. Their very presence grates on your nerves.
--Contactable in person, or by radio.
Organization: The Thornton Family
--Contactable through Emma, radio.
--High Influence within Steelworks 9 Region
--Allied with Nicole Gainer, you
*Researching: Radio towers*
Organization: Thornton Mercenaries
--A complement of hulking Thornton soldiers turned into cybernetically augmented heavy-duty infantry. Equipped with fusion reactor based las-gun assault rifles, Inferno Shotguns, super thick armor, and technicians standing by. They are also equipped with inter and intra-squad radio communicators.
--Lead by William Thornton
Servant, ? ? ?: Iyal
--A mysterious Outlander woman, branded by SEED as a debt-slave. She wishes to serve you, for a better life after an attempted mugging.
--Contactable in person, or by radio.
*Currently assisting with the resettling*
Ally, Subservient: William Thornton
Leader of the Thornton Family of Businessmen.
--Contactable in person, or by radio.
--High influence within the Thornton Mercenaries
--High influence within The Thornton Family
--Feared within Steelworks 9 Region
*Coordinating Thornton Family Assets*
Personal Scientist, Ally: Silas Thornton
--High influence within The Thornton Family
Lover, Consort: Emma Thornton
--Contactable in person, or by radio.
--High influence within The Thornton Family
Pet, Threat: Mitch, the Barker
A bristly furred, stubby faced hellion of a canine that will possibly mutate in the future.
-9/50 Obedience
-?/50 Affection
-1/50 Respect
Poll
0 (0%)
Author
Topic: McCreary's Planet -- (FINISHED) (Read 259944 times)