((I RETURN))
[19 vs. 5][2] The Colossus finishes sizing you up, but you were expecting it. You leap out of the way, trying to summon the Willpower to strike the beast with fire. However, your arithmetic runs into a problem-- instead you hack and slash the offending tentacles, slicing them away. Black ichor splatters the paving stones as you size up the creature for another strike.
[||||||.][7 vs. 10][6] It twists back in pain, rearing up to face you with a lash of its tentacles and a guttural snarl that brings down more mortar and brick from the broken houses nearby. It begins to produce static, hissing heavily to try and dampen your formulas and ruin your concentration. It works, the noise, the vibrations in the air, they distract you, stabbing deep into your central nervous system. You grit your teeth, and, with a release of stored hydrogen through your wings, you lunge at the creature.
[5 vs. 20] [1 vs. 18] [12] Your thigh snaps as you are batted out of the sky and sent spiraling into the street. You catch yourself, rolling with the attack. With pained gasps, you take hold of your leg -- Lucille protected you from the Infection, thank all the gods. All you have to show for the brutal swipe is a broken thigh bone and a few bruises from your rolling fall.
[18-1] Granted distance by the creature's rage, you drag yourself to your feet, biting down hard to stifle your scream of pain as your thigh bone is snapped back into place and mended by your Essence. With shaky breaths, you eye the creature as it coils itself down the street to chase after it's prey.
[2-1 vs 2] You lunge again as it nears you -- but with a flex, a convulsion of its ugly muscles, a burst of lightning lashes out into the cold air, striking you in the chest. Your breath catches as you fall back, panic surging up as your muscles tense and seize from the voltage pouring through them. Your armor deflects most of it and begins to breathe for you as you crouch--
[20 vs. 1] Tentacles lash down -- only to find you missing. A sudden burst of speed as you force hydrogen into your wings, propelling you straight into the creature's torso. Claws first. You burn a grievous wound, the size of your body, into the beast as you rip and tear your way through its 'chest'. It screams and it static fails it in its pain.
[|||....][12 vs. 6] The tide turns as you pivot, firing forward with your wings and dragging your 'claws' into its back, scoring it with burns and savage rends. Ichor follows your path as you force the dull edges of your 'claws' through its skin and armor. Your arms ache from the exertion -- even if the flesh sublimates the instant your talons touch it.
[||.....][2 vs. 2] It swats at you, scoring its back and slamming you into its fleshy torso. It does not penetrate your armor, thankfully, and you dig your claws in deeper, twisting and squirming them in retort. It screams again as you pull yourself away from those razor-tipped appendages, glad to be no worse for the wear.
[|......]It slumps as ichor pours from the horrid wounds you, and itself, inflicted on its armored flesh. The street below your feet has a pool of its blood spreading wider and wider. It collapses with rasping breaths, its eyes turning to find your face as it weakly scrabbles to reach you. Its ichor drips from the orifice you would call its mouth. Rage still boils within you, even if you're coated in a thick layer of its blood and viscera. You approach, twisting your claws,
feeling powerful. This is where you belong -- standing above your maimed foe.[20 vs. 18]
"BEG." You roar, slamming your claws into its face and dragging it up to 'look' at you.
"I -own- this planet, Plague. And I will rip you apart to protect it. BEG!" Its tentacles curl upward weakly as the feral spark leaves its eyes. It twists its 'facial' appendages, miming a very human begging motion.
[19 vs. 20] You hesitate. You were just talking trash -- but this creature is actually begging for its life.
Your mercy doesn't last long -- you kill it by extending your claw and ripping its face apart with a gout of black and brain. You drop the corpse and stagger back, slumping down as you stare at the lifeless abomination in front of you.
What now?
You are Pheobe Gainer and Pheonix
Local Time: [1400] 12/26/2011
Personal Time: 6 months
Empyreal Time: NO NETWORK CONNECTION.
Where an arm should be instead burns a bright hydrogen fire, shaped into a claw.
Where a hand should be instead burns a bright hydrogen fire, shaped into a claw.
You have a patched hole in your chest. [||||.]
It drips blood.
You are coated in Ichor and Viscera.
Cohesion: 60%
You are full.
You are furious. Ancient bloodlust begins to call to you. A beat of a drum that matches your heart, echoing over tundra and plain.
On Body: Mark 15 Battle Armor (Active, Incompatible:Override)[Shattered -- Backplate, Left Thigh]
On Body, Beneath Armor:A black and gold armored gambeson.[Charred]
In backpack: Three nutrient cubes.
Max Willpower Linear Distance: [20 meters]
Max Willpower Diameter: [20 meters]Overload: Trained
Bird of Sol's Reign: Great
Conquerer's Aura: Initiated
-
Voice of the Queen: Initiated
Inferno : Great
-
Slayer's Blade : Initiated
-
Controlled Fusion Reaction : Initiated
-
Uncontrolled Fusion Reaction : Initiated
Healing Factor: Initiated
-
Endurance Boost: Amateur.
-
Strength Boost: Amateur.
Matter Manipulation: Silicon:: Adept
-
Silicon Sunder: Novice
Skill:
Charisma: Apprentice
Skill:
Attrition Warfare: Apprentice
Skill:
Marksmanship: Proficient
Cephie Lavoisier's Verbal Oath Grandmother(adopted): Mother Nicole Gainer
--Contactable in Person
--High Influence with Scholars, Crusaders, the Thornton Family
Ruled Nation: Pheonix's Holy Fortress-State
A dominant power on McCreary's Planet, despite its recent foundation. Currently pursuing a policy of aggressive reclamation.
-Ruled by a council, headed by yourself.
-Theocratic Dictatorship
-The citizens revere you as their new God.
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
--Subservient to you
Organization: Thornton Warmachine
--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, Friend?: Cephie Laviosier.
--An Ascended under contract to you for the next twelve years. She manipulates carbon and carbon based structures.
--Contactable in person, or by radio.
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 Evacuation*
Personal Scientist, Ally: Silas Thornton
--High influence within The Thornton Family
Consort: Emma Thornton
--Contactable in person, or by radio.
--High influence within The Thornton Family
*Coordinating Thornton Family Evacuation*
Pet, Threat: Mitch, the Barker
A bristly furred, stubby faced hellion of a canine that will possibly mutate in the future. His fur is a rusty red, mixed with brownish gray. His eyes are starting to be tinged with bright, electric blue.
-10/50 Obedience
-?/50 Affection
-5/50 Respect
Pheonix's Fortress-State (McCreary's Planet)
Theocractic Dictactorship
Capital: Fortress City of Stormmont
Population: 1.2*10^6
Military: One (1) Corps of Active Duty Hover Craft Deployed Crusaders (Baseline, Mark 1, Hardened){Stationed in Stormmont, Fortified}
Three (3) Corps of Active Duty Defense Militias (Baseline, Mark .5){Stationed in Steelworks 4, 5, 6, 7. Farmland 1, Fortified}
One (1) Corps of Active Duty Hover Craft Deployed Crusaders (Baseline, Mark 1, Hardened){Stationed in Steelworks Region 4-7, Fortified}
One (1) Corps Reserve Crusaders (Baseline, Mark 1, Underequipped){Stationed in Stormmont, Fortified}
One (1) Company of Thornton Warmachines (Baseline, Mark ~1, Hardened Veterans){Currently Fighting in Steelworks Number Nine}
Commodities of Note: Nutrient Bar Rations [Food Stuffs] (equilibrium), Hydrogen Fuel Supplies (deficit), Medical Supplies (equilibrium), Consumer Goods (deficit), Electronics (deficit), Steel (equilibrium), Bioplastics (deficit), Chemicals (surplus), Luxury goods (low deficit), Alchoholic Beverages (surplus)
Quality of life: Food, clean water, lighting, sanitation, universal literacy, universal healthcare, universal higher education, lack of culture, lack of luxury, religious restrictions, and lack of universal rights
Population Morale: Medium
Government Legitimacy: Moderate.
Economy: Non-existant, survival focus
Territories: Steelworks 4, 5, 6, 7. Farmland 1
Ethnic Groups of Note: Thornton Family Group (Unified, Loyal, Criminal), Sandsper Family Group (Unified, ? ? ?), Hoganson Family Group (Unified, Remnants), Western Outlanders (Remnants, ? ? ?), Eastern Outlanders (Fifteen Clans, ? ? ?)
Poll
0 (0%)
Author
Topic: McCreary's Planet -- (FINISHED) (Read 258895 times)