Dominique Wakeman and Ashley FeyTry to let go of it again, in any way needed.
Keep watching, especialy dom
Dominique: 100+3-8 = 95
Ashley Fey: 23+7-7= 23
Alonso/Basilio = 40+7-2=45
Lieutenant Moore: 88+6-4 = 90
HazRec Squad 1: 36+9-4 = 41
HazRec Engineer: 22+3-3 = 22
HezRec Scientist: 3+3-1 = 5
Gibbering Man: 36+5-0 =41
Dominique looks at her hand, her glassy eyes focusing momentarily. [A.Kinetics 16+1] A ripple forms between her fingers, a warp in the air that flashes out to connect her to the gibbering man's back. The warp deepens, the curvature bending until it looks as if Dominique is holding a cylinder of spun glass. Then the curvature reverses; the line of warped air exploding in a wave of blazing light and concussive force. (Gibbering man HP -84) (Lieutenant Moore Armor -25, Hp -12, 5 negated) The explosion tears the Gibbering man and the lieutenant apart when it hits, stripping away the majority of the gibbering man's skin and throwing the marine into the wall.
Lieutenant Moore [Soak 5+1] struggles to stand up, and only barely manages to make it up onto his knees.
Alonso and Basilio [Luck 14] note your hostility and open fire on the gibbering man synchronously. (
Gibbering man -23 HP, -16). Alonso's burst goes wide, but Basilio tears into Dom's target, blazing new holes into the gibbering man while he's still trying to regenerate from Dominique's attack. The gibbering man stumbles, his flesh twitching as it tries to fill in the fresh rifle holes. His flesh is noticeably translucent now; a greyish gelatin through which you can make out stark white bones and the darker grey masses of pulsing organs. The man mouths something, but the words are lost as his throat falls apart. His stumble turns into a collapse, his body degenerating into a pile of grayish goo.
Within moments, the only thing left of the gibbering man is a broken skeleton lying in a puddle of unidentifiable gray gel.
---
Dominique Wakeman Your mental state begins improving the minute the energy surge leaves you. You feel cold, shaky, and a simultaneous mixture of concussed and hungover, but you can remember who you are and what you're trying to do. Not the best timing, considering that you just blew up a Technocrat officer.
Moore manages to regain his feet, which probably means that he'll be fine. Alonso and Basilio are as impassive as ever. The Haz-Rec marines and the support personnel are all looking at you with expressions ranging from wariness to fear. Not exactly unexpected since you just exploded the air using abilities that are probably not what they're used to seeing from technocrat brass. Not that you're used to seeing that kind of an ability either... What you did was unintentional, and probably not repeatable. You note that Ashley joined the group at some point, her purple hair standing out among the grey and black hazard armor.
"Fall back," Moore growls into the command comms, his voice a mixture of pain and anger.
"All units, return to the docks and dig in. Harlequin, you and I are going to have a talk." Health: 95/128
Stamina: 102/120 (+14)
Carried Weight: 124/210
Attire: Harlequin Uniform, Styx Assault Armor (150/150, 60lbs. Integrated Power cell charged 3/3, Internal Ammunition Supply [Cerico, 14])
Inv:
Dominique's Abassy Heavy pistol -laser sight- [6, 8lbs]
.50 pistol clip (7 0.2lbs) x5
Artemis Railgun (3/3 A, 3/3 E 18lbs)
Size S-3 rail spike pack (3, 0.6lbs) x2
Cerico Shotgun (24/8 A, 16lbs)
12 gauge shells (8, 0.3lbs) x5
Stun club (50/50 11lbs)
Advanced Medical Kit (10/10) (5lbs)
Energy Cell (Full, 0.5lbs) x5
ORS (3) x2
Chitin Nodule
Status: Psyshock (Weak)
---
Ashley Fey [Observation 14] You observe the tail end of the firefight, paying special attention to Dominique. She seems... injured. There isn't a scratch on her, but they way she looks at things, the way she moves, it's as if she's still recovering from some major trauma. You don't know if that's a natural side effect of that... attack she used, but she's definitely weakened.
Which is unfortunate, since the strength of her ruse is the only thing capable of keeping you alive now that you're off the ship.
Health: 159/159
Charge: 159/159
Carried weight: 115/150
Attire: Plain gray under armor padding. Midguard Hardened Armor (112/140, 60lbs)
Inv:
Garou Repeating Cannon (9/12) (19lbs)
15 MM bonding charges x1
Ashley's Leanashe Assault Rifle [10/30 18lbs]
4.73 mm Caseless box mags x1
Cirri Light pistol [20/20 4lbs]
Energy cell x2
basic medical supplies [1/5] (5lbs)
Manticore Pistol [9/10 6lbs]
Mechanical Bypass kit 1/5 [3lbs]
---
Toomas Amk You open your eyes, blinking at the Wax covered ceiling. Sleeping was strange now, unnecessary to the point that some of the others had abandoned the practice entirely, but it still makes you feel... calmer. Even the rising, and completely paranoid, suspicion that there is
something sharing your dreams hasn't made you quit quite yet. For now, there is still something to be gained by having a few hours where you can let your mind rest, and too much of a risk in staying awake and keeping your mind in the moment 24/7. You've seen some your fellows slowly descend into madness, losing all humanity along they way. You'd rather avoid that, or at least stave it off as long as possible.
You swing out of the guard bunk, hitting the wax covered floor with a ripple of light. There was a time when you thought of the Wax as beautiful and strange. Turns out it's easy to get sick of an endless sea of the same beautiful and strange. There are a few others of your kind bunked up here, sleeping for their own reasons. Some, like you, do it to hang on to the little things about humanity. Others do it to escape reality. The latter waste away, aging and dying as they succumb to the allure of dreams. It isn't a bad way to commit suicide, given the limited alternatives for your kind.
Raised voices from the equipment room get your attention, and you pad slowly over. Once upon a time, you would have thought that breaking out of Technocrat incarceration would have made life easier. You don't hold to that illusion anymore. Sure, the constant torture is gone, but that's been replaced by the threat of madness, the danger of being eaten by a Freak, and the further worry of being killed by a power struggle between former prisoners.
"What are you suggesting? That we let the refugees fend for themselves, or worse; that we butcher them and have done with it? We aren't animals yet, Murnau, and we have a duty to be better than our captors. That means sparing lives, not taking them." You sigh, stopping before you make it to the door. You recognize Wakeman's voice. The man was something of a minority leader, the speaker for those who still advocated saving as many lives as possible. He led by virtue of being the most vocal, and by being one of the few willing to stand up to Murnau. Murnau himself was... different. Wakeman, like you, had been made into a test subject for political reasons. Murnau had led a mite gang with a rep for careless sabotage, rape, and murder. Now he styled himself as the majority leader of the Cellburners who still remained sane enough to lead. He was forceful, brutal, and didn't tend to think about pure humans beyond breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
"Thing are different, Wakeman. We need to move quickly, and we can't do that carrying a caravan of Freak-bait. You can sit on your high-horse and condemn all you like, but things need to be done if we want to get off this station. I'm going to get things done, and I don't need to discuss them with a pretty-boy who's only a short fall from Tech." Murnau's tone was utterly derisive. The man really only had three emotions; derisive, enraged, and gleefully sadistic. Arguments about the guests/prisoners/refugees/talking MREs were common, and they typically revolved around how they locked the Cellburners into one place and attracted Freaks. Considering that nobody was actually getting off this station in the foreseeable future, the argument was academic. You're about to turn and put some distance between yourself and the argument when Wakeman speaks up again.
"Yes, Murnau, you'll get things done. If all goes to your plan, we'll all get to the docks and have a nice chat with the Technocrat reclamation team. I think that chat will end rather quickly when they discover that we're all prisoners who killed and ate everyone else on the station. Keeping the fugitives
may attract Freaks along the way. Your plan
will get us killed."
"Not if we kill the 'crats first."
You freeze for a long moment, then slowly turn and walk back to the door that separates the bunks from the equipment room. This didn't sound like the usual philosophic argument. This was real, which meant something had happened. You peer through the transparent section of the door, gauging sides. Wakeman is at the far end of the room, with three other Cellburners. Murnau is closer to you, with five Cellburner's lounging around him.
Murnau is smirking, his goons exuding the same aura of confidence. He looks flush and young, fresh from feeding. "You underestimate our abilities Wakeman, and you fail to see the advantage that consuming our former captors will give us. They provide enough meat to make us all whole and strong," Murnau said, cocking his head slyly at Wakeman. "Which is something that I think you dearly need."
Wakeman grunts, but says nothing. Murnau's quip is accurate; Wakeman's face is beginning to line, his body starting to show the signs of accelerated aging.
"More importantly, when we have taken our fill, the only major source of food left will be the reclamation team," Murnau continued. "You saw the ship that docked, there has to be a platoon on board, and they don't know how to hide."
You watch as Wakeman sucks in a breath, a pointless and now completely emotional reflex. "You want to lead the Freaks right to them."
"You'd rather walk into their guns personally? The Technocrats meet the Freaks, the Freaks do what they do best, and our two enemies kill each other to the point that we can mop up whatever is left."
"Murnau... This is insane. We don't deserve what happened to us. We were made into worse than guinea pigs, but that does not give us the right to murder people who are just doing a job. We can still use the staff as leverage, buy our way off the station." Wakeman's voice is hard, but you catch a current of desperation there as well. He's not on the popular end of this fight and he knows it.
"Oh yes, there's that option, I wonder why I didn't think of that?" Murnau said, putting his middle finger to his temple in parody of thought. "Oh yes; because it still ends with us under the thumb of the Technocracy. I'm tired of being under them, tired of having to crawl like a bug when they walk by. You may want to go back to being their bitchboy, but I'm ready to be free. And that omelet requires that I break a few eggs."
Wakeman's hands clench at his side, and the Cellburners with him tense. "I'm not going to let you do this Murnau. Whatever it cost us, we cannot become the murderers that brought us here."
Murnau throws his head back and laughs. "Become murderers? Wakeman, I've been a murderer for years now. It's really not as bad as you're making it out to be. Besides," he adds, his derisive smiling twisting into something crueler. "What are you going to do to stop me?"
The tension coming from the other room is palpable. If you don't intervene, you'd give it fifty/fifty odds of degenerating into bloody violence. If you do... Your strength added to Murnau's will make the odds completely impossible for Wakeman, and may force him to back down until he can marshal more Burners. Siding with Wakeman will significantly lessen Murnau's advantage, and Murnau isn't one to fight personally unless he's sure he can win. Of course, siding with either will break your current platform of neutrality. Now, with a potential way off the station, siding with anyone early could be very dangerous.
Of course, 'very dangerous' has been par for the course for a long time now.
Health: 590/590 -[1,6]
Degeneration: Near Nil
Carried Weight: 57 /120
Attire: Plain Technician Uniform, White. Annwn CFUS (50/50, 15lbs)
Eldjotnar Shotgun (4/4 A, 12/12 E, 10lbs)
Energy Cell x3 (Fully Charged)
20 gauge gauss canister x12
Portable Welding Kit (20lbs, Plasma, 100/100)
Mechanical Bypass Kit (10 lbs, 10/10)
Mechanic's Utility Knife (1lb)
Pad (Charged, significant free space, 1lb)
Status: Fine
---
Tyrin LaverosTyrin added his opinion to the matter.
"You mean overwhelm the senses? Isn't there any kind of psionic thing which attacks the nervous system directly?"
Inquire!
Feuer nods. "Several, and its a good idea to hit the bastard with them, but he'll undoubtedly expect that kind of attack and be ready to block it. What we're talking about is making his
reality confusing, disorienting, and overwhelming. He can block an attack, the worst he can do to reality is close his eyes, hum, and stick his fingers in his ears until we're done killing him." Feuer shrugs. "I'm generally against killing helpless people, but I'm still okay with shooting this 'crat if he takes that route. Not that I expect it to happen."
[P.Empathetics 13+1] Any further conversation with the Marshal is cut short when you're struck by the sudden and acute realization that you can no longer sense the void region with your mind. The edge is on top of you, and the range of your senses has been cut to a fraction of what it was.
Feuer looks at your face and grimaces. "It's happening, isn't it? He's closing in?"
You can only nod.
(You will have to save against the Damping field next round)
Health: 56/79
Stamina: 82/85 (+3)
Carried weight: 95/150
Attire: Colonist Worksuit, Limbo Medium Body Armor (68/115, 35lbs)
Inv:
Energy Cell x1 (Full)
Artemis Railgun (1/3E, 1/3A, 18lbs)
Kapre Light Rifle (11/15, 16lbs)
Medical Kit (9/10, 5lbs)
First Aid Kit (10/10, 5lbs)
Bandages (4/5, 2lbs)
Combat Knife (1lbs)
ALR Broadbeam (5/10 E, 14lbs, Aimed)
.30 Cal pistol clip (10) x1
Field Surgery Kit (9/10, 5lbs)
Satyr Light Pistol (25/25, 4lbs)
Technocrat Tags
Status: New Hensfield, South-east.
---
James EvanJames makes some uncomfortable noises for a few seconds.
Try to find out why I'm so itchy
This new group of rebels doesn't seem to need your help at the moment, and, aside from Amos looking at you curiously, you appear to have a moment to yourself. With Tarran apparently stable, you finally have a minute to check out what the hell has gotten under your armor.
You unbuckle and strip back the majority of the light body armor you're wearing, peeling the bloody fabric of your stolen uniform away from your skin to get a look. What isn't covered in blood or half-scabbed gouge marks from the synthetic looks... irritated. The majority of your skin looks red and puffy, [observation 12] with barely visible traces of white lines showing deeper in your flesh. You search with your fingers for one of the incredibly itchy spots, and you touch something hard and sharp. With a quick flash of stinging pain, you pull it free so that you can get a look at it. It's a shard of amber glass. A very familiar looking shard of amber glass.
"Jesus..." Amos says, appearing over your shoulder. "Evans, you need a medic. You look like you were thrown to the lions and doused with acid. What the hell happened to you?"
Health: 15/88
Stamina: 47/100 (+3)
Carried weight: 171/300
Attire: Exarch Dress uniform [8lbs] James' Light Body armor 19/50 (47/50) [25lbs]
Inv:
Renfield SMG (10/30, 10lbs)
Riot shield (10lbs 1/30, in hand)
Piru Gauss Rifle (E5/5 A5/5 16lbs)
.45 Gauss slug clip (5)
Simone's Song (6lbs 2/7 -Frangible Rounds-)
.50 caliber Frangible pistol clips (7) x1
Dybbuk Flechette Canister Rifle (1/2 35 lbs)
20 mm flechette canisters (x2, 1 lb)
Emergency VIP Drop Suit (30lbs, Armor 35/35)
Irin Combat Shotgun (3/6, 15lbs)
Status: New Hensfield
---
Anna Witheld"I have a feeling that thing you're carrying, any explosives we have, surprise attacks, concentrated fire and quick thinking are going to be how we could win this. We need to hit him hard and with overwhelming power, so that he has to divide his attention between attacking us, defending himself and fixing any damage. He may be powerful but he still has a human mind, which means he won't be able to multitask perfectly and he'll slip up eventually if we keep the pressure on. What do you think sir?"
Feuer shrugs. "I think we've got a chance, and I think that we need to take it. Get set up, we don't have much time and we need to be ready."
[Talking 14+1] The two of you talk shop about positions and firing waves. Together, you come with a plan of staggered attacks that should hopefully provide the right mixture of distraction and lethality. The only things left to be decided are the exact positioning of the team, and who's going to be 'playing' dead for the trap. Feuer doesn't think you can get away with more than half the team faking dirt naps, and you can't do it with anyone that the Presbyter is likely to see first, but those are the only conditions. If Tyrin is any indication, you have no more than a few minutes to finish making a specific plan of attack.
(Thanks to your tactics, Attacking from a radically different angle, with a different type of weapon, or with a different type of weapon, will yield a stacking -(8/6) to the Presbyter's defenses. Chaining multiple differences will increase the penalty)
Health: 46/95
Stamina: 46/105 (+6)
Carried weight: /130
Attire: Colonist Worksuit, Limbo Medium Body Armor (81/115, 25lbs)
Inv:
Kapre Light Rifle (11/15, 16lbs)
Renfield SMG (10/30, 10lbs)
Combat Knife x2 (1ls)
.30 cal rifle clip (15/15) x1
.115 spike pack (30/30) x1
.225 Convention magazine (25/25) x1
.220 Gauss Magazine (35/35)
Combat Blade (8lbs)
Jormungandr Assault Rifle (5/35A 65/70E, 16lbs) -Reflex Sight-
Satyr Light Pistol (25/25, 4lbs)
Status: New Hensfield, South-east. MindBar. Exhausted.
NOTICE: This is a recycled map that doesn't show all of you in anything close to the right place. However, I still don't have laptop back in working order, and this is the last map of the structure. You guys are currently clustered inside of the ruined section. Part of the ceiling has collapsed near the center, providing a partial path to the roof. Flames still burn in the area around the building, but there isn't sufficient combustible material inside of the building for a real fire to start there.
Author
Topic: Deviation-22. The End of All Things. (Read 536358 times)