Chloro
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Post by Chloro on May 25, 2013 9:33:48 GMT -8
Eralam! She could see his sleek metallic case shining through the inferno. Her heart unclenched with relief before she realised that he was carrying the stench of that witch. Although she couldn't see the details of the acrobatic air struggle above, she knew that she had to be there to catch him. Striding forward as fast as the viscous and treacherous ground would allow her, she made her toward him. He'd be fine, she thought hopefully. If he could make through an explosion, the fall wont kill him. And the fire won't be a problem for him, right? He vanished for a moment into the flames. Kuroro watched as Diva hopped through the flamefield, unable to grab her as she sunk into the slag. Great. She could smell the miasma thicken the air as she extracted her toll from Diva crossing her domain in skin.
And hear her laughter. It was a deep and infectious laugh that brought a glowing smile to Kuroro's face. At least there was someone who appreciated her craft. Kuroro wondered if she had made a mistake...
When Eralam emerged through the flames, a shining hero, unscathed by the maelstrom around him. He was wreathed by wings of fire, a spectre of godhood, thundering his proclamation to the damned. Kuroro found herself overawed in spite of herself. Knee-deep in the ruin of the road, he towered over her half-sunken frame. Even the witch... who had spawned eyes she had only seen in her dreams, seemed to be in awe of his persona.
He said that she might be unique. And she felt her heart turn to ash. He was lying! Why was he even talking to her?! Kill her already! But the damage had been done. Cooling ever so slightly, the road congealed slightly, pinning her frame waist-deep in tar. She couldn't even try and reach her... Diva, she was called. A singer. A siren calling Eralam to his doom. She desperately wanted to draw him away, warn him - but she had no air in her lungs to speak.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 25, 2013 9:37:59 GMT -8
The Shard laughed. The sound was unnatural, mechanical. It gave most folks the heebie jeebies.
"Ok, I did not see that coming. But then again, I didn't see any of this coming. I just saw a half-drowned girl in a basement."
It was obvious to Eralam that their fight, however dire it might have been moments ago, would have be put on hold if anyone wanted to get out of this thing alive. The first responders were already extracting the victims on the periphery of the destruction, but they would be pushing inwards soon enough. The police would have no choice but to act if they wanted to keep the medics and firemen safe.
"Diva, you intrigue me."
A particularly brave police officer noted the weapon in Eralam's hand and chose to open fire. The Shard didn't even glance his way as the bolts vanished into nothingness. Unless they broke out a few Z-6 rotary cannon, they posed little to no direct threat. Still, it wouldn't do to let them get overly confident. Eralam broke his neck, directing the force with a casual gesture.
"As much as I would love to sit here and trade stories and/or bullets with you all evening, I fear that the time has come for us to leave this planet. Would you care for a ride?"
Whether she accepted or not, he was leaving soon. He'd have to extract Kuroro if possible on his way out. He had grown fond of her in spite of himself.
"Kuroro, do you think you could make it to the ship?"
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Diva, from Aeons Torn
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Post by Diva, from Aeons Torn on May 25, 2013 15:35:28 GMT -8
"Your girlfriend is trapped, Doofus. Nobody choses her position outta glamor. "
Light once again was allowed to touch the Ice Queen's body, and she appeared to be fine condition. First it's wet looking hair running up and down her rebuilding skin -now looking fresher and all the more pale than before the trauma- and these raven locks cover her nakedness, recreating the fine dress she so often represented herself in. Diva walks purposefully slow, each step bringing her closer to the Sithspawn, each step finishing another article of her clothing. It may or may not have been a cause for alarm, but the modded pistol was still within the Witch's grasp.
"Mommy said it was unhealthy to hold your feelings inside like a psychoroach. She said that if you liked somebody, you had to tell 'em. "
Her malice lined grin softens to something comparable to a subtle smile. Nearby, any of the four combatants would be able more police officers barking orders to not push yet -to hold their fire and their positions for a little while longer.
"You make Hell come alive, Kuke. You make my insides feel like pins and needles." Her icy voice is exchanged for a tone in sing-song. !I thiiiink I liiiiiiiiiiike yoooouuuueeee! Chubby or not! I'd put you in my pocket and carry you forever! The Mad Mouthpiece cradles the Deagle against her pale cheeks and flutters her eyes, rocking her shoulders left and right in a semi-circle while holding the pose. Then her arms drop to her sides, and the mistress of all that's black and blue squares her boots towards Kuroro. She is just standing out of reach of the Firestarter, no doubt teasing a touch based fighter with the tenacity of a mouse mocking a stranded cat.
"Buuuuuut you're stuck, and the God of your universe is telling you keep up if you can! Isn't reality coooold? Worry not, Mischievous Minx! Diva is here to help bring you freedom! I'm going to make you the lead of this opera or you'll die trying! La-dee-daye-daa-dee-da! Showtime!"
The girl hefts the heavy pistol, and produces a polished magazine from an unseen pocket. She twiddles the mag in her left hand: seven shots of specially made high explosive tip rounds. It was so-so against armor, but packed enough punch to knock a Wookie clean out of its skin. Against flesh and bone, it was simply put -demoniacally effective.
"Master Calulator! Tell me her odds. . . Either you get your robotic claws into the ground and rip her free."
Diva slams the mag deftly into the slot and levels the pistol at Kuroro, aiming for her neck. Her just warmer sounding voice dips into the realm of ice malice once again.
". . .Or I help her journey to places with kind hearts. . . after blowing off her head and gouging out her eyes, eating one, and keeping the other for a new frozen necklace that I'm sure will be all the rage this summer."
Her thumb prepares to push the slide back to it's proper place. Maybe tinkering with her tools would now seem like a bad idea right about now. The Countess was still unaware of Eralam's recent 'improvement.'
"Let's see some passion! PRONTO! I want to see love and caring and good and nice things or I blow this f#@%ing girl's head clear to Korriban!"
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Chloro
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Post by Chloro on May 25, 2013 17:37:26 GMT -8
Kuroro tried lifting herself out of the pit, but her flaming hands sunk into street. That was bad. Maybe she was running a little too hot. And Eralam barely spared her a glance. That icy bitch was poisoning his mind! She squeezed her eyes shut. There were no tear ducts, only a magma relief valve that bled golden droplets across her face. That frigid girl chilled her soul, threatening the only thing she cared for.
She was fire that could never be put out. The blackness of her hate for Diva was darker than space. It ignited the stars. A force of nature - an act of a god. There was a level of viscousness that she would aspire to until she made Diva plead for her life. Or death. All For Eralam.
When she opened her eyes again, Kuroro had eyes only for Eralam. To return the affection that Diva showed for her would be an act of unfaithfulness. To look down the barrel of the gun was to doubt that Eralam could save her.
But whatever he do, he would be a god in her sight. Her god.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 25, 2013 19:22:59 GMT -8
There was a metallic thud as Eralam facepalmed. He had assumed that Kuroro had tried to take cover in the asphalt. He had no idea that this wasn't intentional. Well, there was a cure for that. The Shard knew that tar was not a substance that came off easily. It took hours of scrubbing to remove it from his chassis, and he didn't even want to think about what it would take to get it off skin. He'd simply have to see to it that it never had a chance to stick.
"Oh, shit. Um, please try not to move. I can get you out of there, but it's going to be a bit...awkward."
With that, Eralam turned the top five levels of his mechanical attention towards Kuroro. For an organic mind, this would be roughly equivalent to focusing all of one's mind on a particular subject. Of course, they wouldn't have hundreds of lower levels to take care of little things like monitoring the time or preparing to take out the continuously growing police presence. He found her easily enough. Her Force presence was an angry, fiery thing that was completely at odds with the fractured instability he had known up until now. It was still the same Kuroro, but she seemed different, more whole. He'd have to figure out the meaning of all that later, once they were safe.
Now that he had located her, Eralam began to focus on her form, on the physical body. The inner spark of being would occupy a body. By bringing it into focus and finding the outer edge, the body itself should be perfectly highlighted, right down to the very last skin cell. This was important. Even an amateur could pull someone from tar like that. It would take all of Eralam's mastery to pull her from it without ripping half her skin off.
Next step: form a Force barrier that perfectly encompassed her entire body, one that ran underneath the tar, one that was as close to the skin as physically possible. It would have to encompass everything. The Shard had no idea what it would feel like and frankly, didn't have time to care. Now that the barrier was in place, he began to expand the outer edge, pushing the tar away. Once that was taken care of, it was a simple matter of pulling his companion from the muck. Easy enough, and accomplished without tearing off any skin whatsoever. Hopefully.
"Ok, now we have to get out of here. It won't be long before the heavy weapons start showing up."
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Will Sontir
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Post by Will Sontir on May 25, 2013 22:10:57 GMT -8
Administrative Offices, Medical Facility Foamwander City
At the onset of the conversation of with the three force users. Will instructed Poseidon's Fist to provide security around the meeting; there was something off about the the medical facility's staff that did not seem favorable to the three of them meeting. Will wish he had the time and resources to put an immediate investigation out with internal affairs about the reason. . . . but enough of that line of thought. Everyone has their own right to their opinion, but not in the impediment of justice. Will took up a post leaning against a wall on Jago's side of the table as he provides a lecture on the nature of the Force, and what is the role of the Jedi; as if he was talking to a room full of learners.
Will has taken it upon himself to invest research on all possible aquatic life that could come and take residency in the system, no matter how low the probability. Will is revered for his field work, investigations and defense of the Jedi Order; but people discount his diligence in studying of the Force and cultures that he serves, as a Master of the Order. Though not much data as to the origin of the aquatic species Syren was a part of, he could swear he has seen something about her race; Will knows that much, he just can't put his finger on it. Will kept this information to himself just as he studied the current groomed state of his nails as his arms are a crossed his chests as the conversation continued between this 'Syren' and the ranking High Councilor . . .
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Diva, from Aeons Torn
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Post by Diva, from Aeons Torn on May 25, 2013 23:10:56 GMT -8
"Awww!"
The Wicked One takes a few steps back as Eralam commences his delicate work. Her hands drop to her sides as those wild eyes dart about, taking in the different targets that would soon launch their concentrated attack. Already, Fire Department hovercraft are spraying torrents of flame-retardant at the edges of what remained of the fire, and it became painfully obvious that within another minute, they would all be exposed and easily fired upon with extreme prejudice. Once Kuroro was free, she clapped, and amusement touched the edges of the Witch's hateful voice.
"You see, Whilly? The gray side is a lie. Push hard enough and even a bunch of rusty metal can provide the stuff of tragic plays!"
Diva hefts the pistol with a certain charm, then tosses it over to the now free girl.
"Here ya go, Red. Keep it, burn it, toss it, or even shoot me with it. Who cares? It's all just perspectives and angles! For instance . . ."
She pauses mid sentence to again look at the surrounding and increasingly hostile environment.
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Chloro
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Post by Chloro on May 26, 2013 9:42:10 GMT -8
Eralam pulled Kuroro easily enough from the ground. She had closed the valve and the fire that surrounded her had extinguished. Standing at Eralam's side, the tar slid easily off her perfectly smooth, scorched body. The fire had burnt off her human wrapper, showing her for what she really was - a featureless, soulless monster. The Sithspawn skin that was below her human skill was a rusty brown texture and perfectly fireproof. Various organs inside her body glowed unnaturally, illuminating her from the inside, as if she had swallowed a string of lights. It would take a week or longer for the natural skin to start reappearing. Thankfully there was synthaflesh if she needed her hide intact in a hurry.
"Thanks..."
She exhaled in gratitude to Eralam. He seemed to have a different set of priorities, other than killing Diva. The authorities had arrived. The last time Kuroro had started a fire, she played dead afterwards. No one wanted to bother with a human body that looked like it had been left too long in an oven. Diva seemed to have a similar opinion as Eralam of the situation. But there always seemed to be enough time for her to mock Kuroro with her own weapon. There was no hesitation, nor any change in Kuroro's prior priorities.
Smartly snapping the weapon from the air, she hefted the heavy handgun and walked quickly toward Diva. Kuroro knew that she was a no-good shot, which is why she resorted to splash damage or getting close up and personal. She pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. She snapped release. And then everything happened. The Desert Eagle fired uncontrollably in a small arc around her before leaving her fingers, destination unknown.
It would have been nice to simply gun Diva down where she stood, instead of awkwardly stumbling forward as she was now. Re-evaluating her position, she gave herself a bit of space from Diva.
"That was a very unlucky gun..."
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Post by Deleted on May 26, 2013 10:13:02 GMT -8
Eralam stared blankly for a moment.
"Did not see that coming."
Time for the figuring out of things later. Right now, they had to get out of here before something broke the tension. Something like, say, gunshots.
"SHITSHITSHITSHIT!!!!!"
All was quiet for just a brief moment after the last shot rang out.
All hell broke loose. As blasterfire began to pour in from multiple directions, Eralam became nothing more than a blur. His lightsaber had found its way to his hand, seemingly of its own accord, and now it was cutting an argent swath through the withering fire. Though he could Absorb blaster bolts all day long, the Shard was pretty sure that these two couldn't. And while it was clear that they were both perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, the two inhuman females would likely cause far more havoc than was prudent. And so, instead of soaking up the blaster bolts like a sponge, Eralam was a whirling dervish, forming an impenetrable barrier between Diva, Kuroro, and the police.
The bolts that his fine, almost rapier-like silver blade intercepted were not being redirected in any old direction. A Robot Space Ninja is never clumsy or random in combat. Each bolt bit into the hand, the neck, the face, the chest, anywhere exposed really, of the person who fired it. It wasn't often that he got to show off his prowess with a blade, and the Shard relished the chance to put the fear of the Force back into the ones who might survive.
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Diva, from Aeons Torn
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Post by Diva, from Aeons Torn on May 26, 2013 11:54:40 GMT -8
!KURRR-SHHHPLAT!
"Oooooh!"
Accuracy with firing .50 cal HE rounds rapidly, without expecting the recoil? You'd have to be a roboninja to pull something so drastic, and not an old one either. Kuroro's fire mostly traces lines that won't touch anything of importance, save for that vital first bullet. It carves a path into Diva's left shoulder, nearly rocking her off her boots. Of course, the high explosive properties of the round take drastic effect, exploding the limb open, shearing away skin around the entry point, and sending fragments of pulverized bone that spin in tiny, personal, delicate ballets. Then there was the blood. It provided a nice, cool spray that would adorn the Sithspawn's dark cheeks. Now the limb is held together with a few tough ligaments, hardy arteries, and stubborn bone shards.
AND still, it was not enough to satisfy her lust. With her remaining, working hand, the Wicked One procures yet another magazine, and prepares to toss it to her latest fancy.
"Oooowwwweeeee. . . Care to try again, Guv-nor?"
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Syren
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Post by Syren on May 26, 2013 18:38:24 GMT -8
::Foamwander Hospital Administrative Office Suite::
*She took in his words carefully.* <<What he is describing sounds exactly like the concept of the Nen. >> *And so she interjected"My species is called the Calnennore. We come from a planet, as far as I can tell by current star maps, out in what you might call the Unknown Regions. Gaeren III is our planet of origin, binary system, very much like Dac and with about as many sentient species. " *She looked towards the Quarren and the Mon Calamari.* "But my people know very well this concept of the 'Force' as you call it. The Nen, is what we know it as. It is the energy that ties all life together, some 'lucky' few can wield it. But I was trialed, like all children. I never had the talent..." *She frowned. That was another hole in her memory. She could pinpoint cultural memories, but personal ones seemed out of reach. She strove to try to hold onto that scrap she had started to recall, but it seemed to just float away. In the end she just shook her head.* "The Nenya are what we called those with the ability to tap into the Nen and use it with skill. They protected their knowledge and the philosophy went that they protected the Nen itself. I suppose though that all of my species can use this 'Force.' But fine application took a degree of talent that only a few were born with."
*She took a breath then looked back to Jago. He described the Jedi's duty and their presence on Dac. She blinked as this all seemed far too complex.* "I have read about this Galactic Republic. The concept is very... complicated. You strive to represent the billions of people across the galaxy with merely hundreds of thousands of representatives. I don't see how they get anything accomplished. And there seems to be alternative driving forces to some of those representatives viewpoints that seem to contrast sharply with those they are trying to represent... perhaps the scale is what I do not understand.
"We have a similar method on Gaeren III for interacting with outsiders: we select a speaker and that person will discuss trade, travel, or any other coordinated business and then we part ways with those compromises or agreements. But why is secession here a such a terrible thing? If there are people of this world that no longer wish to deal with this... compromising system, why not allow them to secede from your Republic? Or why not allow this population of malcontents to maintain a seceded region? Why have such conflict to begin with?"
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Post by Deleted on May 28, 2013 12:12:24 GMT -8
This text stands in place of nearly three minutes worth of unprintable obscenity. Here Eralam was trying to keep these two alive, Force only knows why, and they're still trying to kill each other. While it is true that droids and droid-like beings don't experience emotions in the same sense that organics do, certain parameters will induce certain responses.
Like all computers, Eralam was capable of letting those he interacted with know that events could potentially be hazardous to the user/computer relation. So when the Shard said he was going to rip Diva's tongue out through her arse, it was like a datapad warning the user that turning off the antivirus to download porn is a really bad idea. And when he threatened to tear Kuroro's face off and snuff out her soul, it was the equivalent of a warning message about a bootlegged holo and the potential malware it might contain. The current course of action may have less than favorable consequences, please reconsider.
It certainly wasn't because he was genuinely pissed, or because his years on the battlefield had left him mildly unhinged and brutally intolerant of those that would endanger others through stupidity. That would just be silly. How could any droid, even one bonded with a Shard, possibly know anger?
"...AND AFTER TREATING HER TO A LOVELY DINNER, I'LL NEVER CALL YOUR MOTHER AGAIN! AM I MAKING MYSELF CLEAR?!?!?"
The local law enforcement had stopped firing after a minute in. They were all standing there slack-jawed and wide eyed, having just witnessed a rant that, while short, would have made any of their instructors feel woefully inadequate. Hell, a few of them were taking notes.
"You know what? To hell with this shit."
He summoned the Force and executed a very precise head bonk on the both of them. If it worked, they would both be rendered unconscious for about 20 minutes, plenty long enough for him to get them to the ship.
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Diva, from Aeons Torn
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Post by Diva, from Aeons Torn on May 28, 2013 15:38:59 GMT -8
"YAHHHH! Child abuse! Domestic Violence! Male on female cliche battery! OH THE HUMANI---"
*Things could never be so simple. While his Force Strike landed on its mark flat over Diva's head, it did not exactly have its intended effect. The creature was too hardy to be knocked out by such simplicity, but it was enough in her recently reawakened state, to submerge the ice and allow the repressed aspects of her personality to seep through unchecked. This quick mental switch pangs off in the Force as if yet another bomb sounded off. The case here, however, was not one of malice or cold blackness but confusion. Befuddlement spreads along victim, peacekeeper, and firefighter alike; a hush falls over the street as this "fog" gives any non-exceptional being a migraine from Hades. In Diva, it was detectable in every possible way one could do so: her expressions wax serious, her eyes fade from star like intensity to lakeside calm. The Witch even smelled different, as if a river spilling pheromones laced with violence just dammed up. This version holds up her hands to head, evidently trying to rub out the massive headache the Roboninja doled out. Though gritted teeth, she speaks. *
"Brutal, but clean. Please do not do that again. *Deep breath* Would you kindly lead me away from this scene? It reeks."
*Eralam would hopefully realize that he was now talking to the girl he found half-drowned in a basement. And, she had thoughts, and none expertly hidden like those with masterful training. Right now, they kept asking why the robot would force out Diva. Why push the buttons and tease like that? Look what had happened, again! Dozens killed, and even more dying. Madness! And she still had the blood of the mechanic smeared across her teeth -dripping out of her mouth, even. The arm with motor function attempts to wipe it off, and her mind repeats one mantra, 'He is not a friend; he is not a good thing; use then escape. He is not a friend; he is not a good thing; use then escape.'*
"Go. I can keep up."
*She looks around, her gaze serious enough that it could have rivaled a billionaire orphan who lost their parents at gunpoint.*
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Will Sontir
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Post by Will Sontir on May 28, 2013 22:22:10 GMT -8
Another speeder explodes. Engine parts bounce off the head of a pet in a safety cage while the owners are away. It whimpers. Dies. Fire pops and jumps, and a family roasts, doing their best impression of Diva's face, but handling it far worse. Vehicle and store alarms compete for which goes the loudest, and there, another scream as glass shatters. And all this sound, it's masked so subtly by the Sithspawn's inferno. Now, police sirens add their distant but ever growing wail to the improvised orchestra. Those pearly white teeth grind in excitement, and Diva's marred hands begin to drum an invisible drum, her pistol shining with an ethereal charm due to the intense lighting. The police vehicle sirens grow louder as their nondescript quantity and distance grows more apparent as these combatants caused a large amount of explosions, destruction and otherwise general disturbance in an area of the city that is known for its crime rate-- it would not be unexpected for the DacDef police to be not so far behind. And with them, come Republic puppeteers and always eventually, the pesky jedi that can cause the combatants unwanted trouble. . .
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Post by Deleted on May 29, 2013 10:02:41 GMT -8
The sheer scope of the craziness boggled the mind. Or perhaps it was contagious, and in spreading, did the boggling all on its own. All Eralam really cared about was the fact that it gave them a window of opportunity.
"Right. Well, basically, run."
The Shard took off at a dead sprint, using the Force to tow Kuroro along behind him. He wasn't quite sure what the hell she was, and had just as much intel concerning the apparently schitzo one called Diva. Despite the resurgence of her more "normal" personality, she seemed to be keeping up quite well. That in itself was odd, seeing as how he was hitting upwards of 80 kph in the straight stretches. Definitely not human, if the whole vampire shtick hadn't already spelled it out.
It didn't take them long to cover the dozen or so klicks to the spaceport. The police presence was much lighter there, and given that there probably hadn't been enough time for the officers on the scene to pass on a decent description. Holos of the fugitives were highly unlikely; Force use on the scale exhibited on the street would pretty much distort any images beyond recognition. If anything, the police would be looking for a reptilian sentient, probably a Barabel (they always seemed to be the go to for an unknown but violent reptile,) its assassin droid, and the little girl they had taken hostage. There would probably be reports of a bombing, automatic weapons fire, and maybe some sort of chemical attack if the personality swap managed to put the folks down for long enough.
What they wouldn't be looking for were two humans with a bit of luggage. Time to break out the HRD. As they were running towards the spaceport, Eralam sent out a microburst transmission, heavily encrypted. It contained a set of coordinates and a simple set of instructions. His HRD chassis only had a rudimentary intelligence when not paired up with the Iron Knight, but it could meet them at the desired location with a box big enough to stuff Kuroro in. Eralam's writer hoped Kuroro's writer would forgive him for the presumption, but time was of the essence.
Right. Crazy fire girl in the asbestos lined box. Fresh set of clothes for Diva (though the Shard suspected that she'd really only use the large, bulky jacket to hide her wound, but they were there if needed) and a change of chassis for Eralam. The swap was pretty simple, as Eralam had long ago installed his crystalline body in a sort of cassette that could easily be swapped out between his various droid bodies. Once done, the combat droid would go make trouble somewhere else in the city as a distraction before self-destructing violently. Meanwhile, all they had to do was walk casually to the Ferrous Warrior and hope that nothing went wrong.
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Diva, from Aeons Torn
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Post by Diva, from Aeons Torn on May 29, 2013 11:57:34 GMT -8
This sprinting was good. The hectic pace the robot had set proved to be just thing to distract the troubled mind. She pours herself into the drama of speed, concentrating on jumps and hops that propelled her unholy frame farther and faster than naturally possible. That's right: sprint down a street, use a fire-escape to throw yourself up unto an nearby rooftop, and skip on. The madness became a blur, and the focal point was Eralam, no doubt planning his next massacre. Dangnabit! How did Diva manage to take damage and regenerate lost limbs like they were useless? Don't look at it, don't smell the air near it, don't worry if it hurts with every motion, don't worry if it falls off. Ignore and sprint, ignore and sprint. Eventually they make it to what looks like a spaceport, or maybe a locker room. How would she know? All she can think about was how her bloody arm refused to go numb, and how she could swear she can feel a vein snap off every minute. What was this, a winter coat? No matter, it would at least cover the mangled flesh. Putting it on properly would be something of a fry cry, so the next best thing was to drape it over her shoulders, pinning back the stubby bat wings of the dress.
"My headache cleared. I think the police will be at full force soon."
It was a downright stupid thing to say, since she said it clearly, and loudly enough for the nearest folks to turn and stare with angry expressions. While there were no pictures of the terrorists, most of the city was now altered to the violence as holonews blared over every broadcast. In a matter of moments the FCPD would declare a shutdown of the city, thus making any civilian walking outside or driving an instant suspect. Outbound flights would also be restricted to only civil servants. These three were quite clearly not police.
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Post by Deleted on May 30, 2013 9:13:41 GMT -8
"Now sister, there's no need to be dramatic. The police are not here to make sure you're suffering at all times."
It was a shot in the dark, a wild-ass guess, complete and utter bullshit. Call it what you want, but that was the cover story that sprang to mind. Despite a pretty extreme height difference (Eralam now stood at 6'4",) the HRD looked vaguely enough like Diva that they might be able to get away with pretending to be siblings. The HRD had pale skin, dark hair, and a lean, muscular build. The face was unremarkable, the sort that passersby would automatically associate with any number of ethnicities, depending on the circumstances. The association with the female would hopefully lead to the assumption that the two were related. That would hopefully last until they managed to cover the last few hundred meters between the alley they were hiding in and the spaceport. Once there, even if they couldn't take off, they would at least be allowed access to the ship.
For a half-baked scheme, it had a decent chance of success. Eralam just hoped that Diva would play along.
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Diva, from Aeons Torn
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If blood is the currency of life, then what's its tax collection service?
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Post by Diva, from Aeons Torn on May 30, 2013 10:58:10 GMT -8
Now it was whatever this thing that wasn't Diva turn to roll her eyes, although the sensation of regret touched her awareness as the latest wave of pain causes her body to shake uncontrollably. Ridiculous. She almost wanted to wake Diva up again in order to beg for the secret of regeneration, but really, that would be as effective as jumping off a skyscraper. If there was one thing that she learned in her brief states of control, it was that Diva was a selfish bitch, and the only thing the Witch was willing to share was her hands rammed inside a victim's ribcage -Oh god, a wave of nausea nearly overtakes her shaking body as the myriad instances where Diva did EXACTLY that plays out in her mind. Distract, distract, ignore, pull, death, lick, friend, distract, brother, gentleman, distract, slide, dis-
"Shut up, Bro. I can tell you've never had a migraine in your life. You wanna know what it's like? Imagine a computer stuck reprinting the same document endlessly, as its drives heat up and melt, and it knows the end comes, but it cannot stop but burn. Don't be an A-hole. I really do like the birthday present, and. . ."
She clutches Eralam's arm, more because it helped stopped her from passing out, then it did stop her from trembling like a child with a fever.
". . .I'm sorry I'm like this. But, thank you. Thank you for the gift. I really am grateful for it."
So well acted, so well mixed in relation to this current state and not, that the glaring civilians find some one else they can make "nyah" noises at.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 30, 2013 12:17:40 GMT -8
In his HRD chassis, Eralam is usually a bit more in tune with the organics. Since the body is programmed to blend in with them, it's a lot easier to relate to them on a more instinctive level. Such programming is nearly useless in his primary body. Things like empathy have no place on the battlefield, and just aren't included as part of the package. And though he retains the memories of his time spent in the HRD, the computer-assisted thought processes just aren't equipped to handle the data on more than an intellectual level.
The experience is strange and uncomfortable to the Shard, which explains why he rarely ever uses his HRD chassis. Fortunately, those unique skills were about to come in handy.
As the humanoid-but-definitely-not-human-female clutched his arm, Eralam could feel her trembling. Only then did it occur to him that her wound was actually pretty severe. Pain would definitely be there, and she ran the risk of going into shock. Judging by the shaking, she was probably pretty close already. He decided to try and help, but going about it would take some finesse. Too little and he might as well not try at all. Too much and there was a very good chance that the more violent personality would surface. Both would be bad, though it was hard to guess which would be worse. If she collapsed, then folks were going to wonder about the massive wound. If PsychoDiva resurfaced, then folks were going to wonder about all the killing. Decisions, decisions.
After a brief nanosecond or two of thought (quite a lot of time for a computer, even one attuned to the organic side of things,) he had what would hopefully be a workable solution.
"It's going to be ok, Sis. We've got your meds on the ship. It'll only be a few more minutes."
Eralam could feel the shaking diminish somewhat with no effort on his part, but that didn't mean they were out of the figurative hot water yet.
Since pain is basically an electrical signal carried up the nerves and to the brain, and since Eralam was a master of Absorb, it shouldn't be too hard to simply intercept the signals before they have a chance to travel up the spinal cord. It took a considerable amount of focus to get right, but before long, the Shard was fairly certain that he was sucking up the pain signals without interfering with data from the rest of the arm. Hopefully, that would be enough to get them through the entrance and to his docking bay. By now, there were only ten meters to go.
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Diva, from Aeons Torn
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If blood is the currency of life, then what's its tax collection service?
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Post by Diva, from Aeons Torn on May 30, 2013 16:26:40 GMT -8
They should consider B grade acting jobs together, because the deception was more than enough to fool any of the common sort the rest of the ten meters. Wonderful relief, that was all she could ever ask for, and somehow, the super genius delivered, and just in time before complete shock set in. The door to the ship's inside opened, responding to some kind of advanced signal that the Shard had no doubt sent once they were out of sight, or was that a button he simply chinned to grant access? Minutiae could wait, as the duo -technically trio- moved deeper into the ship's interior
"Duummm dumm, dumm dum, dum duh dun."
Would the universe give her a bloody chance? For once? Ignorance was bliss, pretty little flowers -no, no, no, not flowers- clouds, clouds, and any color but blue. Get her red, green, yellow, pink, and vomit -it would be safer. Mantras repeat, control, and the viciousness had passed. Maybe Eralam truly wasn't evil. Maybe he could help her keep things even keeled as much as he shook it up. It was hard to mistrust someone when you where loopy from various endorphins were making your body a jamboree.
"What's next? How are we going to escape? Air traffic will be restricted. . ."
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