He gives a nervous smile and says "Well a little backstory before I tell you, as you slept I kinda sweeten the deal for my contact by creating a book with your likeness in it. I used pictures from the shower and memory to draw and create some homoerotic stories with pics/drawings on them" he cringes expecting to be hit from Rin. "Since I suspect it will sell like hot cakes, I will need to make a second book but with a mixture of cuteness and sexiness in it so...." as he pulls out a sailor suit and a literal cat suit with hands and feet being cat paws and a cat tail at the end and continues "Cat suit or sailor suit first?" As he gives him a confident smile at him as he presents the outfits to him.
SCREECH.
Rin's brain scratched to a grinding halt. He froze, standing so still that it looked as if he had turned to stone right then and there. He stared blankly at a distance, unseeing, fingers limp. He didn't even seem to breathe.
What.
What.
What the £#€¥-
His brain backtracked, stuttered, forced itself to play again, scratching the metaphorical disk of his conscious mind.
"WHAAAAT?!?!?!" he shrieked, voice so high it cracked. He paled drastically, then blushed so hard he could feel the heat shoot down to his gut. "You- y-you- why?!?! I'm not-" His knees almost buckled, but he stopped himself from collapsing through sheer willpower. He slapped his hands over his face, then abruptly reached up and tugged at his hair. "I'M NOT THAT ATTRACTIVE- o-or sh-SHAMELESS!!!" he shouted, sending Montagne a heated glare of mortification. No PRIVACY WHATSOEVER. No SHAME.
The people who would-
That SON OF A-
He marched over and tugged at the front of Montagne's shirt down hard, until his face was inches away from his own. "Give me ONE GOOD REASON WHY I SHOULDN'T JUST KILL YOU ON THE SPOT." He gave him a shake for good measure. "WELL?"
Rin's brain scratched to a grinding halt. He froze, standing so still that it looked as if he had turned to stone right then and there. He stared blankly at a distance, unseeing, fingers limp. He didn't even seem to breathe.
What.
What.
What the £#€¥-
His brain backtracked, stuttered, forced itself to play again, scratching the metaphorical disk of his conscious mind.
"WHAAAAT?!?!?!" he shrieked, voice so high it cracked. He paled drastically, then blushed so hard he could feel the heat shoot down to his gut. "You- y-you- why?!?! I'm not-" His knees almost buckled, but he stopped himself from collapsing through sheer willpower. He slapped his hands over his face, then abruptly reached up and tugged at his hair. "I'M NOT THAT ATTRACTIVE- o-or sh-SHAMELESS!!!" he shouted, sending Montagne a heated glare of mortification. No PRIVACY WHATSOEVER. No SHAME.
The people who would-
That SON OF A-
He marched over and tugged at the front of Montagne's shirt down hard, until his face was inches away from his own. "Give me ONE GOOD REASON WHY I SHOULDN'T JUST KILL YOU ON THE SPOT." He gave him a shake for good measure. "WELL?"
Seeing that Rin really meant by his words in not killing him, but his expression was too much for Laurent caused him to cackle through the entire deal. Even though trying hold back from full blown laughter isn't helping the situation but it was too much for him, just seeing Rin get so red from embarrassment. Of course he had to come up with an excuse to at least save his head and so he gave his response as he rubs his hands together and give him a nervous smile
"Because I'm such a fabulousguy in which you will miss?"
"Because I'm such a fabulousguy in which you will miss?"
Rin paused. His face smoothed over, like a calm before the storm. He reached behind him... And drew out his knife.
"Die," he said, in a flat monotone- and went for the chase.
"Die," he said, in a flat monotone- and went for the chase.
Laurent's grinned turned to fright hearing Rin say the word "Die", but it was too late as he felt a twig of pain as the knife enter him...fatality. Laurent pushes Rin away as he holds onto his stab wound, near his chest. He looks down and see's the blood on his hand and then looks at Rin with horror in his face as tears began to roll down his face. He backs up unto the hall and sits down as he continues to hold onto his wound and mutters "Why? Why me?" as letting Rin know that he has the mind set of doing nothing wrong in which he still believed.
"I did nothing wrong..." he mutters as blood comes from his mouth as he extends his bloody hand towards Rin. "Come here..." he adds as he still clings onto life.
"I did nothing wrong..." he mutters as blood comes from his mouth as he extends his bloody hand towards Rin. "Come here..." he adds as he still clings onto life.
EARTH VI
What a truly miraculous thingies those NATr were. Even getting them was straight out a thrill, usually gunning down entire munition transports to acquire a marginally small amount, if the pirate was lucky enough. These assaults was not only part of his galactic day-to-galactic day life but a past time for the Mad Ranger, and, right now, inside the modified rescue ship he was, those rounds were starting to paying off for themselves. There was nothing like beating the living soul out of competition or even someone who insulted him while those were in the unforgiving effect of the anesthetic rounds. 'Canary', in contrast, preferred to use NATr for the sole purpose of kidnapping their targets on more peaceful methods. Alive (and intact) victims always valued more when requesting ransoms, after all. She knew, too, that every fraction of a credit would count. Ammunition, fuel, even food, was expensive on the remote regions where she, the Ranger and their goons made their heists. Obviously, the Masked Man didn't lured them into captivity just for the money. Knowing his past, Wong was sure that those canids were a valuable asset for the Ranger's quest, or that they could even bring it straight to an end.
They would not.
The Mad Ranger was one of the kind that selectively and mercilessly destroyed every single being that posed as the smallest obstacle or discomfort. Sergei, after touching CL's weakest spot, was instantly added to that list of personal grudges. If possible, CL would milk the man of all information he could use, kill him in the most grueling way he had never managed to do before and, for unknown reasons, release the canids to whenever they wanted... Regardless of how they would feel after their leader's death.
— Now listen the <****> UP, you <*******> moron. I 'wanna know if you can move that <*******> frog tongue after I'm done... — His white-noised stained voice, while still exhaling an air of superiority, felt a lot more impish now rather than the grim tone it was just some moments ago. The Ranger had witnessed Sergei's unbearable intolerance for beings that barely looked mechanical. With his mechanical, weaponized right arm, he could only imagine what kind of feelings that would invoke for his hostage. Unbeknownst to the Mad Ranger, the armor-clad woman was lifting the unconscious canids, carefully seating them on the wall-mounted benches of the claustrophobic room they were in, making sure to buckle them up on the standard atmospheric take-off bracings of the given seats, tightly firming them in place. And that's when she heard the grim shifting of gears and whirring engines akin to the Ranger's arm. Right when he was about to bring unavoidable end to his foes.
— U-Uh, Ghost... What are you 'gonna ... — The woman was abruptly interrupted. — SHUT THE <****> UP! — 'Canary' would immediately react to the violence of the Ranger by pushing him back from behind, pushing his shoulder. She wouldn't make any more effort to contain him, though. The rescue ship was consumed by vicious shudders as a deafening mechanical roar consumed the whole room. Lift off.
The Ranger's psychotic fixation on the ensuing misery for Sergei was well deserved, as his distraction brought him straight into a wall on his back.
— What the <****> are you think... ! Have I ordered to take... ?! <**********>! Who's pilo... !? GEARS!!! HOLD THE <****> OUT OF THIS SHIP! I'm not finished yet, <*******> it! - CL, apparently, was too busy trying to boss around the people who came for his rescue to actually get a hold of himself for the eventual take off, just so he could begin to torment Sergei. Canary, on the other hand, managed to get a hold on the same bracer where she just buckled Connel up. Firmly holding herself while the ship kept shaking, the armor-clad woman eventually made her way towards Sergei, making sure to get a grasp on him as well.
— What the <****> are you doing?! — Even though the Ranger was still unstable, he wouldn't bring himself into the point of bypassing his rationality and actually harm one of his own because of some holier-than-thou stray G.I. Joe. Fortunately, for Sergei, while still being conscious, he would feel a firm grip of the same safety bracers found on all of his canids fall on his shoulders. All while Canary was able to hold herself in the taking-off vessel ship.
— Gee, what made him so MAD? — Sergei could only hear a faint cackling coming out from the pitch black visor from the woman. Judging by the loud — <****> YOU, CANARY. — that came from the Ranger, the man could figure out that this was some sort of 'inner insult'. Soon after, the woman would start to cautiously pick any of the NATr syringes that pricked Sergei, with an attention akin to a well-trained doctor. Knowing war by himself, it was not hard for the man to notice that. However, just after taking off the last syringe from him, she noticed the fallen canid.
— What the... - Much for her surprise, Canary was easily able to tell that this one was looking terribly ill, in fact, it was almost like... — ... He's DEAD?!
Instinctively, Canary brought her gauntlets towards the safety cleats on her helmet. In an instant, a pair of thin white smoke, a mixture of oxygen, nitrogen and gases for space life support would jet out from both extremities of the respirator located where her nose and mouth would be. Almost falling amidst the flying ship, she would struggle to get over the limp canid, fully detaching her helmet from the armor and recklessly yank it away from her head.
— Dammit, CL! What did you do to him?!
While hidden below that black helmet, with a even darker, opaque visor concealing her true face, 'Canary' looked, more than anything, like some sort of human-mimicking combat android. But, now, in his mid-consciousness, Sergei could see the delicate features of a young asian woman on her early 20's. Her eyes, so narrow that one could say they were closed, glanced attentiously over the fallen canid while clear concern formed on her otherwise sunshine smiley, fair white face. Curiously, while covered by a protective netting, her pair of ponytail buns wore a faintly bright golden blonde coloration, uncommon for that race, judging by her eyes.
The lights reflected intensely on her clearly sweaty face, giving off how hot that helmet felt. Naturally, the woman would take off her hair-netting, throwing on the ground as her ponytails unwarapped from the badly buns they were packed.
Still, even though she looked quite young, the readiness on which she took notice of the actual state of the fallen canid and how fast she acted on protecting the surviving ones and Sergei from a very shaky death made sure that she was, in fact, a Field Medic.
— What the <****> are you even saying?! Those <*************> BROUGHT HIM LIKE THAT ALREADY!
Just looking at the fallen canid was enough for the woman to know that he was beyond salvation, however, it didn't felt quite right on why a group of armed canine beings had the idea, to begin with, of bringing a dead body to an emergency evacuation vessel of an unknown force, let alone, literally do it. Specially alongside one person such as the Mad Ranger... That, now, finally got hold of a safety bracing, still keeping the murderous crimson glare on the half-awake Sergei.
Meanwhile, a rag-tag group of brigands and their capitalistic-looking leader would see the modified vessel vanish far and high in the zenith of Earth VI. That ship obviously lacked any hyperdrive systems, based on its primitive engines, and so, meaning that someone was possibly ready to transport them out of out "Earth" System. Else, they'll probably head for Stervus... Assuming they even had any fuel left.
The sudden change of pressure and outburst of oxygen from the emergency tanks would have the unpredictable side-effect of rendering all of the canids, under effects of NATr anesthesics, to slowly slide back into consciousness again. The difference between the fading gravity and the sudden weight that fell over them once the artificial gravity generators started off on the rescue craft helped even more on waking them up. The Ranger, now out of Earth VI for good, could diverge his look from Sergei, landing with his rear on the ground and letting a loud, relieved sigh.
MOON 456
After what felt like years, the bounty hunter finally would release grip from Illiya's leg due to a very well aimed "slap". While she did let out a smile after being able to strike her rival-idol in the face, the Dragon Lady wouldn't be able to stand properly, after all, her femur had withstood a great deal of Maria's force. Judging by this exquisite enemy agility's and deadliness, Maria would have a fierce draconian creature charging on her way, ready to deal a vicious and very likely lethal blow.
... Yet, her expectations from Illiya could not stop getting torn apart over and over again. The Dragon Lady would have her confident smile slowly fading away while she got to see and hear her rival on obvious distress. Then, at the few instances that Maria was able to see, there was only the victor making its way towards her, with a straight expression on its reptilian face. Even though the beast was limping, it shown murderous intent on its eyes.
Except that a demonic, golden gaze with slit pupils was just natural of Illiya.
She actually was worried about Lock-On's integrity. What if she was truly hurt? This reaction shown that Maria's face was probably her weakspot but that was something that Illiya made up in her infantile, but war-bent head.
— ... U-Uh... M-Mary? Are you... Okay? I mean, I wasn't aiming on your vital parts, really! I mean, I know where those are, I was trained to know that. I mean... Its not like it was my choice, I was forced to do it, y-you know?? B-But, hey, I know you're tough, y-you... Hell yeah! You're tough as steel! Still... You're right... Right? — When the Dragon Lady's words started to become audible, the squad of Z and Doc Bots came in. She wouldn't even wait for the orders, Illiya would simply throw her arms high up in the air and bear a weirded-out frown. Strangely, she was never instructed on what to do in the scenario of being capture by the enemy. She was supposed to kill them all.
Then Maria ordered Illiya to surrender, which she immediately replied. — O-Oh, sure. Sure! You win! But, heehee... You must admit that I kicked your butt! — Illiya would reply Maria's orders like all of this was just a friendly video game match. If it was not by the fact that Illiya was an expert at her trade, Maria would be sure that Illiya was completely out of her mind.
And there she was. Barely able to stand with a partially cracked femur and arms needlessly high in the air. Even though the odds were against her, Illiya was able to take on the three, knowing that the only threat would be Maria's weaponry, lasers would prove to be quite weak against her hide. Yet, she only surrendered because Lockheart asked to. Actually, she was not in disadvantage, they were, and the brief scuffle that Maria had would start to make that fact obvious.
All of that deadliness packed in a infantile being with a, at least, cute personality.
Something was very odd about this peculiar draconian creature.
Credit for art goes to Rayane Felix!
What a truly miraculous thingies those NATr were. Even getting them was straight out a thrill, usually gunning down entire munition transports to acquire a marginally small amount, if the pirate was lucky enough. These assaults was not only part of his galactic day-to-galactic day life but a past time for the Mad Ranger, and, right now, inside the modified rescue ship he was, those rounds were starting to paying off for themselves. There was nothing like beating the living soul out of competition or even someone who insulted him while those were in the unforgiving effect of the anesthetic rounds. 'Canary', in contrast, preferred to use NATr for the sole purpose of kidnapping their targets on more peaceful methods. Alive (and intact) victims always valued more when requesting ransoms, after all. She knew, too, that every fraction of a credit would count. Ammunition, fuel, even food, was expensive on the remote regions where she, the Ranger and their goons made their heists. Obviously, the Masked Man didn't lured them into captivity just for the money. Knowing his past, Wong was sure that those canids were a valuable asset for the Ranger's quest, or that they could even bring it straight to an end.
They would not.
The Mad Ranger was one of the kind that selectively and mercilessly destroyed every single being that posed as the smallest obstacle or discomfort. Sergei, after touching CL's weakest spot, was instantly added to that list of personal grudges. If possible, CL would milk the man of all information he could use, kill him in the most grueling way he had never managed to do before and, for unknown reasons, release the canids to whenever they wanted... Regardless of how they would feel after their leader's death.
— Now listen the <****> UP, you <*******> moron. I 'wanna know if you can move that <*******> frog tongue after I'm done... — His white-noised stained voice, while still exhaling an air of superiority, felt a lot more impish now rather than the grim tone it was just some moments ago. The Ranger had witnessed Sergei's unbearable intolerance for beings that barely looked mechanical. With his mechanical, weaponized right arm, he could only imagine what kind of feelings that would invoke for his hostage. Unbeknownst to the Mad Ranger, the armor-clad woman was lifting the unconscious canids, carefully seating them on the wall-mounted benches of the claustrophobic room they were in, making sure to buckle them up on the standard atmospheric take-off bracings of the given seats, tightly firming them in place. And that's when she heard the grim shifting of gears and whirring engines akin to the Ranger's arm. Right when he was about to bring unavoidable end to his foes.
— U-Uh, Ghost... What are you 'gonna ... — The woman was abruptly interrupted. — SHUT THE <****> UP! — 'Canary' would immediately react to the violence of the Ranger by pushing him back from behind, pushing his shoulder. She wouldn't make any more effort to contain him, though. The rescue ship was consumed by vicious shudders as a deafening mechanical roar consumed the whole room. Lift off.
The Ranger's psychotic fixation on the ensuing misery for Sergei was well deserved, as his distraction brought him straight into a wall on his back.
— What the <****> are you think... ! Have I ordered to take... ?! <**********>! Who's pilo... !? GEARS!!! HOLD THE <****> OUT OF THIS SHIP! I'm not finished yet, <*******> it! - CL, apparently, was too busy trying to boss around the people who came for his rescue to actually get a hold of himself for the eventual take off, just so he could begin to torment Sergei. Canary, on the other hand, managed to get a hold on the same bracer where she just buckled Connel up. Firmly holding herself while the ship kept shaking, the armor-clad woman eventually made her way towards Sergei, making sure to get a grasp on him as well.
— What the <****> are you doing?! — Even though the Ranger was still unstable, he wouldn't bring himself into the point of bypassing his rationality and actually harm one of his own because of some holier-than-thou stray G.I. Joe. Fortunately, for Sergei, while still being conscious, he would feel a firm grip of the same safety bracers found on all of his canids fall on his shoulders. All while Canary was able to hold herself in the taking-off vessel ship.
— Gee, what made him so MAD? — Sergei could only hear a faint cackling coming out from the pitch black visor from the woman. Judging by the loud — <****> YOU, CANARY. — that came from the Ranger, the man could figure out that this was some sort of 'inner insult'. Soon after, the woman would start to cautiously pick any of the NATr syringes that pricked Sergei, with an attention akin to a well-trained doctor. Knowing war by himself, it was not hard for the man to notice that. However, just after taking off the last syringe from him, she noticed the fallen canid.
— What the... - Much for her surprise, Canary was easily able to tell that this one was looking terribly ill, in fact, it was almost like... — ... He's DEAD?!
Instinctively, Canary brought her gauntlets towards the safety cleats on her helmet. In an instant, a pair of thin white smoke, a mixture of oxygen, nitrogen and gases for space life support would jet out from both extremities of the respirator located where her nose and mouth would be. Almost falling amidst the flying ship, she would struggle to get over the limp canid, fully detaching her helmet from the armor and recklessly yank it away from her head.
— Dammit, CL! What did you do to him?!
While hidden below that black helmet, with a even darker, opaque visor concealing her true face, 'Canary' looked, more than anything, like some sort of human-mimicking combat android. But, now, in his mid-consciousness, Sergei could see the delicate features of a young asian woman on her early 20's. Her eyes, so narrow that one could say they were closed, glanced attentiously over the fallen canid while clear concern formed on her otherwise sunshine smiley, fair white face. Curiously, while covered by a protective netting, her pair of ponytail buns wore a faintly bright golden blonde coloration, uncommon for that race, judging by her eyes.
The lights reflected intensely on her clearly sweaty face, giving off how hot that helmet felt. Naturally, the woman would take off her hair-netting, throwing on the ground as her ponytails unwarapped from the badly buns they were packed.
Still, even though she looked quite young, the readiness on which she took notice of the actual state of the fallen canid and how fast she acted on protecting the surviving ones and Sergei from a very shaky death made sure that she was, in fact, a Field Medic.
— What the <****> are you even saying?! Those <*************> BROUGHT HIM LIKE THAT ALREADY!
Just looking at the fallen canid was enough for the woman to know that he was beyond salvation, however, it didn't felt quite right on why a group of armed canine beings had the idea, to begin with, of bringing a dead body to an emergency evacuation vessel of an unknown force, let alone, literally do it. Specially alongside one person such as the Mad Ranger... That, now, finally got hold of a safety bracing, still keeping the murderous crimson glare on the half-awake Sergei.
Meanwhile, a rag-tag group of brigands and their capitalistic-looking leader would see the modified vessel vanish far and high in the zenith of Earth VI. That ship obviously lacked any hyperdrive systems, based on its primitive engines, and so, meaning that someone was possibly ready to transport them out of out "Earth" System. Else, they'll probably head for Stervus... Assuming they even had any fuel left.
The sudden change of pressure and outburst of oxygen from the emergency tanks would have the unpredictable side-effect of rendering all of the canids, under effects of NATr anesthesics, to slowly slide back into consciousness again. The difference between the fading gravity and the sudden weight that fell over them once the artificial gravity generators started off on the rescue craft helped even more on waking them up. The Ranger, now out of Earth VI for good, could diverge his look from Sergei, landing with his rear on the ground and letting a loud, relieved sigh.
MOON 456
After what felt like years, the bounty hunter finally would release grip from Illiya's leg due to a very well aimed "slap". While she did let out a smile after being able to strike her rival-idol in the face, the Dragon Lady wouldn't be able to stand properly, after all, her femur had withstood a great deal of Maria's force. Judging by this exquisite enemy agility's and deadliness, Maria would have a fierce draconian creature charging on her way, ready to deal a vicious and very likely lethal blow.
... Yet, her expectations from Illiya could not stop getting torn apart over and over again. The Dragon Lady would have her confident smile slowly fading away while she got to see and hear her rival on obvious distress. Then, at the few instances that Maria was able to see, there was only the victor making its way towards her, with a straight expression on its reptilian face. Even though the beast was limping, it shown murderous intent on its eyes.
Except that a demonic, golden gaze with slit pupils was just natural of Illiya.
She actually was worried about Lock-On's integrity. What if she was truly hurt? This reaction shown that Maria's face was probably her weakspot but that was something that Illiya made up in her infantile, but war-bent head.
— ... U-Uh... M-Mary? Are you... Okay? I mean, I wasn't aiming on your vital parts, really! I mean, I know where those are, I was trained to know that. I mean... Its not like it was my choice, I was forced to do it, y-you know?? B-But, hey, I know you're tough, y-you... Hell yeah! You're tough as steel! Still... You're right... Right? — When the Dragon Lady's words started to become audible, the squad of Z and Doc Bots came in. She wouldn't even wait for the orders, Illiya would simply throw her arms high up in the air and bear a weirded-out frown. Strangely, she was never instructed on what to do in the scenario of being capture by the enemy. She was supposed to kill them all.
Then Maria ordered Illiya to surrender, which she immediately replied. — O-Oh, sure. Sure! You win! But, heehee... You must admit that I kicked your butt! — Illiya would reply Maria's orders like all of this was just a friendly video game match. If it was not by the fact that Illiya was an expert at her trade, Maria would be sure that Illiya was completely out of her mind.
And there she was. Barely able to stand with a partially cracked femur and arms needlessly high in the air. Even though the odds were against her, Illiya was able to take on the three, knowing that the only threat would be Maria's weaponry, lasers would prove to be quite weak against her hide. Yet, she only surrendered because Lockheart asked to. Actually, she was not in disadvantage, they were, and the brief scuffle that Maria had would start to make that fact obvious.
All of that deadliness packed in a infantile being with a, at least, cute personality.
Something was very odd about this peculiar draconian creature.
Credit for art goes to Rayane Felix!
I S A N D R I L – The Great Engine
The Universe would not be born for some long time yet.
She had stood atop the tallest tower of Isandril, that central pyre which loomed far above all the others. And the wind of a this living world amidst the sea of black before time whipped at white-blonde hair. Eyes empty of color, almost hollow in their inhumanity, but alive and curious and longing, stared up at the starless night.
"Why is there only one Sun?" She said, in her strange tongue, that language which none after these First 'People' would ever speak. A language that would, one day, die and disappear along with all of them. The forbidden tongue.
"Why do you ask questions which have nothing to do with your place in life?" He asked, tone scornful, but there was some curiosity there too. It was a rhetorical question, but part of him wished there was an answer anyway. She ignored him, just tucking hands in pockets, ignoring too the stray hairs as they whipped gently at her face. It was cold up here, as the world glowed beneath them, trees like bioluminescent jellyfish exploding in the sky, among shimmering towers where all the people in the unborn universe lived.
She did nod acknowledge him, continuing instead as though he had said nothing.
"If there were other suns, I'd want to go see them." She said, with an almost childlike conviction.
"Oh really?" He sounded amused.
She set her jaw, and nodded. ""I WOULD go see them. I'd fly around in a big ship like the ones the Iridiites made."
"You speak a heresy."
"Who cares!" She waved a hand dismissively. "I'd go with the Iridiites, if they'd let me."
Despite the blasphemy of the stupid girl's words, he did not seem to be truly concerned with the fact. He did not chastise her, instead completing the phrase that she had let go unsaid.
"But you can't."
"Of course not, stupid."
To call HIM stupid, of all people - insanity. Yet he permitted it from this one. This one had always amused him in particular. She had always been different than the others - just a little crooked in the head, it seemed. "I'M not an Iridiite."
"And you can never be one." He said it factually, without spite. He had expected no answer. "You've been given all the powers that the Iridiites will never be able to have. You know that's their sacrifice...They despise you as they symbol of everything they hate and reject."
But the girl was still daydreaming, she had begun to ignore him completely now, and continue to weave her bizarre little fantasy, speaking more to herself and the starless sky than to the man standing behind her. "I'd fly around and, and meet people who came from those other suns. All kinds of different people, and we'd all fly around together."
"Preposterous. Where do you come up with these stories of yours?"
"And, and they'd give me a...a..." There was a slight tremor in her voice now, as emotion began to seep through. But she could not bring herself to utter that last word, as if to speak of it would only remind her yet again of how desperately, how deeply she yearned with all her heart to have, that which had once been her own, but could never be again. Gone forever and eternally forbidden to her. "And...and...And I wouldn't have to be so lonely all the time." Her voice was a whimper now, and the first hints of gathering tears were playing at the corners of her eyes. "And n-nobody would hate me."
"You knew what you were getting into." He said tonelessly. "You knew the sacrifices that would need to be made for you to become a Mechanic. The An-" She whirled on him suddenly, fury and despair and pain and loathing piercing her colorless eyes that glistened in their intense, piercing stare. Her voice broke as she half-shouted up at him with clenched fists. "I know what The Eye is! And I hate it!" He words were as heretical as they were filled with intensity. "I hate the Eye, I hate the Engine, I hate all the stupid Red Birds and their stupid laws, and this whole stupid world, and I hate God for having ever made us in the first place!!"
Breathing heavily the icy air that bellowed around them, a long moment of silence as vast as the stretches of nothingness beyond Isandril hung around them like the whole of everything that ever would be.
He just stood there, looking down at her expressionless. He paid no attention the long hair which bellowed in the wind, fell in his eyes, obscuring them partially from view. It had never bothered him - and it served to conceal the hint of compassion for this girl that dwelt within them.
If only she could know.
But it would only hurt her more if she were to learn.
He was a silent, immovable force that stood before her, and at last the intensity and rage melted away into cold, desolate sorrow. She turned around again, looking back up to the starless night sky, not bothering to wipe away the tears that now streaked down her pale face.
"I never wanted this." She said at last, the volume and severity of her voice cowed to the merest whisper through half-contained misery and a hopelessness that permeated every small sound. Yet still she was resolute in her belief - for was not that all anyone had, in the end? All people were, were collections of ideas and their beliefs. "You say I wanted it, but you're wrong. Because I might not remember anything else but I remember that. I don't know how much of me is the way I used to be, and how much is what they made me...But I know that I'd give anything to be someone again..."
He only shook his head sadly, putting his hands into the pockets of his coat. He knew there was no point in arguing any of it.
He knew that more than anyone else.
He was gone before she started speaking again - alone now, voice unheard to anyone but herself, up there in the dark and cold atop the great Engine that was her entire life. Utterly alone, on top of the world, and with arms that might have reached out for help if there were anyone willing to touch her.
"If there were other suns, I'd want to go see them." She said, again, to herself now - as if repeating the words reminded her that they were true. "I'd meet new people from other suns, and they'd be my friends, and let me fly around with them in their big ship. And they'd make me one of them. And I they could give me a...I could have a..."
Stray blonde strands blew into her eyes, plastering there with the mingling tears. She wiped them with the back of a hand, looking away from the abyssal sky.
She again wished very much that she had a hat.
N O T S P A C E – Goodbye
Ideas are funny things.
They exist, and yet they are nothing. Fleeting whispers of thought and consciousness and yet they can persist beyond all measure. They can change and grow. They can survive anything.
And yet, they can be forgotten.
They can become muddled until they hardly resemble coherency. They can dissolve, and fade away - and they cannot die, for they never lived - but they can cease to be.
For an idea must stay constituted in order to continue to exist. Fundamentally, the only way to destroy an idea is to forget it.
And what if that idea constituted itself? What if there was no brain to contain it - what if, instead of thoughts forming from the mind, the mind was formed from the thoughts?
Maybe things could have been different.
There had been a chance.
But an idea which was uncertain of its' own existence must cease to be anything at all.
To lose ones' identity is a devastating blow to the sense of self - but to be convinced that one is nothing at all - is deadly.
That's how they had killed the unkillable. When scorching death cauterized the face of the world before time, an indestructible people was subjected first to the agony of eyes that drained from their heads and flesh that melted and slid off their bodies. Then, as more unconstituted souls than ever before were collected around the immolated corpses of the dead, chaos and uncertainty attacked their disembodied consciousnesses like a plague.
Had they been in their element, perhaps they might have survived - but when Judas pulled the lever and killed the Great Engine in the moment where it was needed more than ever, they were plunged out of their safe place and into crumbling identities and consciousnesses that dissipated into space until they were naught but memories to an unthinking Universe.
Things might have gone differently.
But they had not.
The last, fleeting remnants of a consciousness stranger than any alien dwindled, flickered abstractly within the Kingsbane – unobtrusively a part of every man and woman aboard.
An old tale told the story of a robot who went mad – and as he was shut down and faced the incomprehensible, impossible reality of his own imminent death, he felt true fear for the first time in his existence, for the last moments he had. Yet his voice was quiet and monotone, and as his brain shut down piece by piece, he cried out in terror – but all that came out was the soft spoken words of an artificial voice;
"I'm scared Dave, I can feel it slipping away."
But the mad robot had possessed a voice with which to express his final despair. The mad robot had been more than a simple, abstract concept – more than the faintest wisp of thought on the winds of time.
There was nothing left, now. Only the infinitely vague reminiscence of a ghost that lingered in the machine. Somewhere, automated processes would piece together a short line of code that made little sense and was of no use to any function. Maybe it would be seen, maybe not. But it was something. Some mark to have left on the Universe. Some remnant of what she had once been. A reminder to nobody that she had once existed.
///////i/////////d///o///////n/////t//////w///////a//////////n//////////////t/////////////////////t/////o///////////d///////////////////i/////////////////////////////////////////e///////
The last, dying echo of the reflection of a candlelight against the infinite blackness of unbeing. No song to sing to the grave. The fading embers of a mind which had once existed, which had survived a span of time vaster than the reaches of space itself – only to be cut down in one tragic, fated instant by a megalomaniac tyrant who’s only goal, it seemed, was destruction and wrath.
How cruel too, that her last spoken word should have been ”Kingsbane?”
It was the regret of the damned that dominated these last fading reminders of consciousness, trapped helplessly within measly scraps of computer data, compiled by another intelligence whom lived now only because she had ceased to be.
Regret, because how dare she – she, of all people – presume so boldly, so stupidly as to think for one second that she could be a part of someone else – that she could be anything but a solitary entity in permanent isolation? Yet even if there was nothing to live for, she would have still preferred anything over this. This nightmarish sensation, dimply perceived, of teetering, semi-conscious on the brink of a black void so expansive, so dark, so vast and thick heavy and cold – so COLD!
But, she deserved nothing less, and in her final moment, she knew this.
She was terrified. Stricken with utter panic. This couldn’t be happening – and yet here it was. She was small and afraid and alone – more alone now than she had ever been before – and she deserved it.
To have lived her whole life with that stupid dream – a wasted existence.
They had been right all along. The universe would be better off without her.
And, as it happened…
It was.
The Kingsbane’s gargantuan sum of ordinance tore most of the smaller Dendril ships to shreds before they could even get close. Despite everything, the weapons were working. The materiel was flying. It was as if they were no longer in Notspace at all.
As a tall, blonde man leaned heavily on the control board of a warship which had once brought forcible peace to a solar system, black, insectoid vessels sputtered and died in the hail of gunfire from the formidable Heavy Artillery Cruiser. He cared not for them – they were merely a distraction – worthless if not taking attention away from his own great, rusty-red instrument of death.
But as the moment of truth approached, he found himself frozen – and then more urgent than he had ever been. It had to die. That ship had to be destroyed at all costs. It had to go and NOW!
Slamming his fist on the controls, he initiated the launch sequence that he had been programming while the little black insects swarmed around the newly, impossibly retaliating Kingsbane. He said nothing. The ancient missiles would speak for him, and for all of Time and Space.
The belly of the beast yawned wide and released from its’ dreadful mechanical innards a barrage of death virtually unmatched by any other such instrument of death. Nuclear missiles. Molecular destabilizers. Hydrogen bombs. Superinduction lasers. Plasma deconstrctors. Everything that Mankind had worked in its’ earliest days to build that could bring planet-shattering demise on a whim – all of it that could fire at once, was fired. Even from the great distance between the two, the swarm of imminent death could be watched as it approached – guided by the impossible hand of The Shadow Over Himself through the place where only he should have been able to move.
It had been sent at such a preposterously close-range that the madman behind the controls could not possibly have intended to survive the assault. It was a bundle of weapons intended to rid the Universe of all who were present. If he must risk death to make that heinous, serpentine evil disappear forever – so be it. The Kingsbane could not hope do defend itself – for to fire upon the ordinance would mean detonating bombs that had been built to shatter worlds and consume suns.
Things might have gone differently…But they had not.
And now it seemed that, as the last wisp of the dead girl’s consciousness fell off the face of reality, the crew of the Kingsbane would share her fate.
And then, just as abruptly as they had appeared in that terrible unreality of Notspace – stars appeared in the windows and monitors of the Kingsbane.
The planet was gone. The sun was gone. The attacking ship, the swarms of Dendril fighters, the Stella Viventium – all gone. Even the invading Dendril which had managed to board the ship had disappeared as suddenly and completely as if they had never been. Puncture wounds remained in the ship’s hull from where they had boarded – but no other sign that there had been any enemy aboard was present. Even the holographic image of Erica Codsworth had disappeared for the moment, before she could respond to the Captain’s answer. Everything that was not intrinsically a part of the Kingsbane had been, apparently, left behind in Notspace – while the ship and crew had somehow, against all the laws of nature and reality and time and space, without the slightest evidence or provocation – had been returned to real space. Alone, now, in the place where some unnamed star used to be, with some unnamed planet that was still tucked away within paradox.
It was over.
The battle was gone. The fleet was gone. The Stella was gone. Isandril was gone. The sun was gone. The enemies were gone.
And She was gone.
The Universe would not be born for some long time yet.
She had stood atop the tallest tower of Isandril, that central pyre which loomed far above all the others. And the wind of a this living world amidst the sea of black before time whipped at white-blonde hair. Eyes empty of color, almost hollow in their inhumanity, but alive and curious and longing, stared up at the starless night.
"Why is there only one Sun?" She said, in her strange tongue, that language which none after these First 'People' would ever speak. A language that would, one day, die and disappear along with all of them. The forbidden tongue.
"Why do you ask questions which have nothing to do with your place in life?" He asked, tone scornful, but there was some curiosity there too. It was a rhetorical question, but part of him wished there was an answer anyway. She ignored him, just tucking hands in pockets, ignoring too the stray hairs as they whipped gently at her face. It was cold up here, as the world glowed beneath them, trees like bioluminescent jellyfish exploding in the sky, among shimmering towers where all the people in the unborn universe lived.
She did nod acknowledge him, continuing instead as though he had said nothing.
"If there were other suns, I'd want to go see them." She said, with an almost childlike conviction.
"Oh really?" He sounded amused.
She set her jaw, and nodded. ""I WOULD go see them. I'd fly around in a big ship like the ones the Iridiites made."
"You speak a heresy."
"Who cares!" She waved a hand dismissively. "I'd go with the Iridiites, if they'd let me."
Despite the blasphemy of the stupid girl's words, he did not seem to be truly concerned with the fact. He did not chastise her, instead completing the phrase that she had let go unsaid.
"But you can't."
"Of course not, stupid."
To call HIM stupid, of all people - insanity. Yet he permitted it from this one. This one had always amused him in particular. She had always been different than the others - just a little crooked in the head, it seemed. "I'M not an Iridiite."
"And you can never be one." He said it factually, without spite. He had expected no answer. "You've been given all the powers that the Iridiites will never be able to have. You know that's their sacrifice...They despise you as they symbol of everything they hate and reject."
But the girl was still daydreaming, she had begun to ignore him completely now, and continue to weave her bizarre little fantasy, speaking more to herself and the starless sky than to the man standing behind her. "I'd fly around and, and meet people who came from those other suns. All kinds of different people, and we'd all fly around together."
"Preposterous. Where do you come up with these stories of yours?"
"And, and they'd give me a...a..." There was a slight tremor in her voice now, as emotion began to seep through. But she could not bring herself to utter that last word, as if to speak of it would only remind her yet again of how desperately, how deeply she yearned with all her heart to have, that which had once been her own, but could never be again. Gone forever and eternally forbidden to her. "And...and...And I wouldn't have to be so lonely all the time." Her voice was a whimper now, and the first hints of gathering tears were playing at the corners of her eyes. "And n-nobody would hate me."
"You knew what you were getting into." He said tonelessly. "You knew the sacrifices that would need to be made for you to become a Mechanic. The An-" She whirled on him suddenly, fury and despair and pain and loathing piercing her colorless eyes that glistened in their intense, piercing stare. Her voice broke as she half-shouted up at him with clenched fists. "I know what The Eye is! And I hate it!" He words were as heretical as they were filled with intensity. "I hate the Eye, I hate the Engine, I hate all the stupid Red Birds and their stupid laws, and this whole stupid world, and I hate God for having ever made us in the first place!!"
Breathing heavily the icy air that bellowed around them, a long moment of silence as vast as the stretches of nothingness beyond Isandril hung around them like the whole of everything that ever would be.
He just stood there, looking down at her expressionless. He paid no attention the long hair which bellowed in the wind, fell in his eyes, obscuring them partially from view. It had never bothered him - and it served to conceal the hint of compassion for this girl that dwelt within them.
If only she could know.
But it would only hurt her more if she were to learn.
He was a silent, immovable force that stood before her, and at last the intensity and rage melted away into cold, desolate sorrow. She turned around again, looking back up to the starless night sky, not bothering to wipe away the tears that now streaked down her pale face.
"I never wanted this." She said at last, the volume and severity of her voice cowed to the merest whisper through half-contained misery and a hopelessness that permeated every small sound. Yet still she was resolute in her belief - for was not that all anyone had, in the end? All people were, were collections of ideas and their beliefs. "You say I wanted it, but you're wrong. Because I might not remember anything else but I remember that. I don't know how much of me is the way I used to be, and how much is what they made me...But I know that I'd give anything to be someone again..."
He only shook his head sadly, putting his hands into the pockets of his coat. He knew there was no point in arguing any of it.
He knew that more than anyone else.
He was gone before she started speaking again - alone now, voice unheard to anyone but herself, up there in the dark and cold atop the great Engine that was her entire life. Utterly alone, on top of the world, and with arms that might have reached out for help if there were anyone willing to touch her.
"If there were other suns, I'd want to go see them." She said, again, to herself now - as if repeating the words reminded her that they were true. "I'd meet new people from other suns, and they'd be my friends, and let me fly around with them in their big ship. And they'd make me one of them. And I they could give me a...I could have a..."
Stray blonde strands blew into her eyes, plastering there with the mingling tears. She wiped them with the back of a hand, looking away from the abyssal sky.
She again wished very much that she had a hat.
N O T S P A C E – Goodbye
Ideas are funny things.
They exist, and yet they are nothing. Fleeting whispers of thought and consciousness and yet they can persist beyond all measure. They can change and grow. They can survive anything.
And yet, they can be forgotten.
They can become muddled until they hardly resemble coherency. They can dissolve, and fade away - and they cannot die, for they never lived - but they can cease to be.
For an idea must stay constituted in order to continue to exist. Fundamentally, the only way to destroy an idea is to forget it.
And what if that idea constituted itself? What if there was no brain to contain it - what if, instead of thoughts forming from the mind, the mind was formed from the thoughts?
Maybe things could have been different.
There had been a chance.
But an idea which was uncertain of its' own existence must cease to be anything at all.
To lose ones' identity is a devastating blow to the sense of self - but to be convinced that one is nothing at all - is deadly.
That's how they had killed the unkillable. When scorching death cauterized the face of the world before time, an indestructible people was subjected first to the agony of eyes that drained from their heads and flesh that melted and slid off their bodies. Then, as more unconstituted souls than ever before were collected around the immolated corpses of the dead, chaos and uncertainty attacked their disembodied consciousnesses like a plague.
Had they been in their element, perhaps they might have survived - but when Judas pulled the lever and killed the Great Engine in the moment where it was needed more than ever, they were plunged out of their safe place and into crumbling identities and consciousnesses that dissipated into space until they were naught but memories to an unthinking Universe.
Things might have gone differently.
But they had not.
The last, fleeting remnants of a consciousness stranger than any alien dwindled, flickered abstractly within the Kingsbane – unobtrusively a part of every man and woman aboard.
An old tale told the story of a robot who went mad – and as he was shut down and faced the incomprehensible, impossible reality of his own imminent death, he felt true fear for the first time in his existence, for the last moments he had. Yet his voice was quiet and monotone, and as his brain shut down piece by piece, he cried out in terror – but all that came out was the soft spoken words of an artificial voice;
"I'm scared Dave, I can feel it slipping away."
But the mad robot had possessed a voice with which to express his final despair. The mad robot had been more than a simple, abstract concept – more than the faintest wisp of thought on the winds of time.
There was nothing left, now. Only the infinitely vague reminiscence of a ghost that lingered in the machine. Somewhere, automated processes would piece together a short line of code that made little sense and was of no use to any function. Maybe it would be seen, maybe not. But it was something. Some mark to have left on the Universe. Some remnant of what she had once been. A reminder to nobody that she had once existed.
///////i/////////d///o///////n/////t//////w///////a//////////n//////////////t/////////////////////t/////o///////////d///////////////////i/////////////////////////////////////////e///////
The last, dying echo of the reflection of a candlelight against the infinite blackness of unbeing. No song to sing to the grave. The fading embers of a mind which had once existed, which had survived a span of time vaster than the reaches of space itself – only to be cut down in one tragic, fated instant by a megalomaniac tyrant who’s only goal, it seemed, was destruction and wrath.
How cruel too, that her last spoken word should have been ”Kingsbane?”
It was the regret of the damned that dominated these last fading reminders of consciousness, trapped helplessly within measly scraps of computer data, compiled by another intelligence whom lived now only because she had ceased to be.
Regret, because how dare she – she, of all people – presume so boldly, so stupidly as to think for one second that she could be a part of someone else – that she could be anything but a solitary entity in permanent isolation? Yet even if there was nothing to live for, she would have still preferred anything over this. This nightmarish sensation, dimply perceived, of teetering, semi-conscious on the brink of a black void so expansive, so dark, so vast and thick heavy and cold – so COLD!
But, she deserved nothing less, and in her final moment, she knew this.
She was terrified. Stricken with utter panic. This couldn’t be happening – and yet here it was. She was small and afraid and alone – more alone now than she had ever been before – and she deserved it.
To have lived her whole life with that stupid dream – a wasted existence.
They had been right all along. The universe would be better off without her.
And, as it happened…
It was.
The Kingsbane’s gargantuan sum of ordinance tore most of the smaller Dendril ships to shreds before they could even get close. Despite everything, the weapons were working. The materiel was flying. It was as if they were no longer in Notspace at all.
As a tall, blonde man leaned heavily on the control board of a warship which had once brought forcible peace to a solar system, black, insectoid vessels sputtered and died in the hail of gunfire from the formidable Heavy Artillery Cruiser. He cared not for them – they were merely a distraction – worthless if not taking attention away from his own great, rusty-red instrument of death.
But as the moment of truth approached, he found himself frozen – and then more urgent than he had ever been. It had to die. That ship had to be destroyed at all costs. It had to go and NOW!
Slamming his fist on the controls, he initiated the launch sequence that he had been programming while the little black insects swarmed around the newly, impossibly retaliating Kingsbane. He said nothing. The ancient missiles would speak for him, and for all of Time and Space.
The belly of the beast yawned wide and released from its’ dreadful mechanical innards a barrage of death virtually unmatched by any other such instrument of death. Nuclear missiles. Molecular destabilizers. Hydrogen bombs. Superinduction lasers. Plasma deconstrctors. Everything that Mankind had worked in its’ earliest days to build that could bring planet-shattering demise on a whim – all of it that could fire at once, was fired. Even from the great distance between the two, the swarm of imminent death could be watched as it approached – guided by the impossible hand of The Shadow Over Himself through the place where only he should have been able to move.
It had been sent at such a preposterously close-range that the madman behind the controls could not possibly have intended to survive the assault. It was a bundle of weapons intended to rid the Universe of all who were present. If he must risk death to make that heinous, serpentine evil disappear forever – so be it. The Kingsbane could not hope do defend itself – for to fire upon the ordinance would mean detonating bombs that had been built to shatter worlds and consume suns.
Things might have gone differently…But they had not.
And now it seemed that, as the last wisp of the dead girl’s consciousness fell off the face of reality, the crew of the Kingsbane would share her fate.
And then, just as abruptly as they had appeared in that terrible unreality of Notspace – stars appeared in the windows and monitors of the Kingsbane.
The planet was gone. The sun was gone. The attacking ship, the swarms of Dendril fighters, the Stella Viventium – all gone. Even the invading Dendril which had managed to board the ship had disappeared as suddenly and completely as if they had never been. Puncture wounds remained in the ship’s hull from where they had boarded – but no other sign that there had been any enemy aboard was present. Even the holographic image of Erica Codsworth had disappeared for the moment, before she could respond to the Captain’s answer. Everything that was not intrinsically a part of the Kingsbane had been, apparently, left behind in Notspace – while the ship and crew had somehow, against all the laws of nature and reality and time and space, without the slightest evidence or provocation – had been returned to real space. Alone, now, in the place where some unnamed star used to be, with some unnamed planet that was still tucked away within paradox.
It was over.
The battle was gone. The fleet was gone. The Stella was gone. Isandril was gone. The sun was gone. The enemies were gone.
And She was gone.
Gone…
Gone…
Gone.
She was gone.
Dead at last.
For good.
It was better this way.
Though, the Kingsbane was not completely free of danger, however – because, in all that chaos and tragedy and death – something had come aboard.
Some minutes after it had been collectively decided that, somehow, they were for the moment out of immediate peril – Star-Class Astrophysicist Benedict Severin would receive a high priority message from one of the researchers on his team.
He sounded haggard. Had he just seen the face of death? A typically sensible man out of his wits with shock?
”Y-you need to come see this. You need to come see this right now.”
Things appeared to have gotten better.
But they had not.
She was gone.
Dead at last.
For good.
It was better this way.
Though, the Kingsbane was not completely free of danger, however – because, in all that chaos and tragedy and death – something had come aboard.
Some minutes after it had been collectively decided that, somehow, they were for the moment out of immediate peril – Star-Class Astrophysicist Benedict Severin would receive a high priority message from one of the researchers on his team.
He sounded haggard. Had he just seen the face of death? A typically sensible man out of his wits with shock?
”Y-you need to come see this. You need to come see this right now.”
Things appeared to have gotten better.
But they had not.
Rin's brain crashed for the second time.
... Well $#&%.
£#€¥.
"I... " he swallowed thickly, then knelt down in front of Montagne. His hands hovered over him, then settled next to his own sides.
He had so many mixed feelings about the man. He basically took him in, a stranger, gave him food, a place to stay.
... On the other hand. The man was manipulative. He could see that, naive as he may be. He had no sense of what was right and wrong. He violated his privacy for money, he was probably going to other things, worse things, to him, for himself-
But.
He was dying now.
And it was his fault.
He took a deep breath.
I should get used to it he thought, staring down at Montagne with unreadable eyes. But I never thought...
I never thought my first kill would be because of personal reasons.
He really was a monster, wasn't he?
"I," he said, then cleared his throat. He opened his mouth again to say 'sorry,' no matter how stupid, because sorry wouldn't heal him now, would it? Nor could he say why what he did was wrong, because he was dying anyway and he can't not do it again because he was dying-
Oh gods-
An unbidden thought poked his conciousness, and he let it through, because what else could possibly-
Oh-
Oh.
He threw a limp arm around his own shoulders, grunting from the effort, struggling to walk Montagne to the cryogenic pod he could've sworn was in a room he'd tinkered around in at one point. "C-c'mon, I think there's- a freeze chamber," he stammered, stumbling a little as they took several steps forward. "Thought you'd dodge, $#&%" he mumbled, eyes getting wet. He blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back.
... Well $#&%.
£#€¥.
"I... " he swallowed thickly, then knelt down in front of Montagne. His hands hovered over him, then settled next to his own sides.
He had so many mixed feelings about the man. He basically took him in, a stranger, gave him food, a place to stay.
... On the other hand. The man was manipulative. He could see that, naive as he may be. He had no sense of what was right and wrong. He violated his privacy for money, he was probably going to other things, worse things, to him, for himself-
But.
He was dying now.
And it was his fault.
He took a deep breath.
I should get used to it he thought, staring down at Montagne with unreadable eyes. But I never thought...
I never thought my first kill would be because of personal reasons.
He really was a monster, wasn't he?
"I," he said, then cleared his throat. He opened his mouth again to say 'sorry,' no matter how stupid, because sorry wouldn't heal him now, would it? Nor could he say why what he did was wrong, because he was dying anyway and he can't not do it again because he was dying-
Oh gods-
An unbidden thought poked his conciousness, and he let it through, because what else could possibly-
Oh-
Oh.
He threw a limp arm around his own shoulders, grunting from the effort, struggling to walk Montagne to the cryogenic pod he could've sworn was in a room he'd tinkered around in at one point. "C-c'mon, I think there's- a freeze chamber," he stammered, stumbling a little as they took several steps forward. "Thought you'd dodge, $#&%" he mumbled, eyes getting wet. He blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back.
Laurent smiles and says "Oh you do it now..." as he coughs up more blood as his face became much more pale. "I'm going to give you a every hard time whe-" his body went limp as he slumps a little and his body begins to strangely fade away...as if he was one with the force. It wouldn't be long till he was transparent and ghostly and then he would vanish, his clothes and hat flutter to the ground.
For a long while nothing would be seen from the piles of clothes from Laurent, but soon his hat began to move. At first it just skidded a little and then soon it began to move around the floor and moving pass Rin and then stopping in the middle of the open. A little black tail with a white stain on its tip can be seen coming from the hat as it gently moves up and down slightly from the floor to the ground.
For a long while nothing would be seen from the piles of clothes from Laurent, but soon his hat began to move. At first it just skidded a little and then soon it began to move around the floor and moving pass Rin and then stopping in the middle of the open. A little black tail with a white stain on its tip can be seen coming from the hat as it gently moves up and down slightly from the floor to the ground.
Rin stared down at the pile of clothes... Before collapsing on his knees, tiny, shuddering sobs erupting from his chest. He was slumped forward, the occasional hiccup making itself known to the empty air, as he clenched his fists and shut his eyes against tears. A few stubborn drops were able to streak down his face as he gritted his teeth. I'm sorry...
For a long while he laid there, a twitch moving his body here and there, until his crying fits were completely contained. He let out a shaky sigh, slowly lifting himself from the floor to sit upright. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, blinking and looking down at-
The hat was moving.
Rin let out a startled little yelp as he skittered backwards in alarm. As his back hit the nearest wall, he stared wide-eyed as the hat stopped in the middle of the room and- was that a tail?
What the hell was going on?!
For a long while he laid there, a twitch moving his body here and there, until his crying fits were completely contained. He let out a shaky sigh, slowly lifting himself from the floor to sit upright. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, blinking and looking down at-
The hat was moving.
Rin let out a startled little yelp as he skittered backwards in alarm. As his back hit the nearest wall, he stared wide-eyed as the hat stopped in the middle of the room and- was that a tail?
What the hell was going on?!
The tail shot up surprise instantly went back into the hat and the hat began to scurry long the ground like a cockroach after the attempt to squish it failed. The hat moved in wild directions for a while till it hit the wall with a loud *thump!*
"Mmm ow!" The hat cried out in a very familiar voice. Soon the hat tilted to the side on the ground but showed nothing. Soon from inside the hat itself as a black cat with bright yellow eyes, white tipped ears and paws and tail came out of the hat...rubbing its head with its paw?
It then looks at Rin for a good couple of seconds and
"Never seen a Cat in the Hat?" In Laurents voice
"Mmm ow!" The hat cried out in a very familiar voice. Soon the hat tilted to the side on the ground but showed nothing. Soon from inside the hat itself as a black cat with bright yellow eyes, white tipped ears and paws and tail came out of the hat...rubbing its head with its paw?
It then looks at Rin for a good couple of seconds and
"Never seen a Cat in the Hat?" In Laurents voice
Rin really did shriek this time. He instinctively picked up a nearby object- oh, it was that tool he used yesterday- and shakily threw it, which went sailing right over the cat and hit the opposite wall.
Yes, his aim was that off. Which was quite understandable, considering he just witnessed the death and rebirth? of... Well, whatever the conman was to him.
He refused to think about it.
"What the hell?!" he gasped, pressing himself against the wall even more. "What the HELL."
Yes, his aim was that off. Which was quite understandable, considering he just witnessed the death and rebirth? of... Well, whatever the conman was to him.
He refused to think about it.
"What the hell?!" he gasped, pressing himself against the wall even more. "What the HELL."
Laurent the black cat just stared at Rin as he panics. He didn't even fitch from the flying object. "I'm going to guess you never seen a domestic house cat,hmm?" He says as he gets up on all fours and slowly begins to approach him. "I guess I should explain...well if you haven't notice in my human physical form I was what someone would call a Neko, cat-kin or whatever to identify me as a human with cat DNA. But I was created by the Dimensional Lord of the undead/darkness Lord Ova" as he gets closer and closer to Rin
"By this time, Ova wanted her creations not to try to contest her power and so she created me and after angering her she shot me in the head and instead dying I was turned into what you see before you...a cat" he states as he sits right in front of Rin. "She then explains to me that run on that cats-have-9-lives rule and so that I can't actually die till all my lives are gone and I'm now down to 7 lives left after you just murdered me in an emotional fueled rage" he states as continues to look up at him as his tail gently goes and up down against the floor.
"Did you get all that or are you still currently shitting your pants?"
"By this time, Ova wanted her creations not to try to contest her power and so she created me and after angering her she shot me in the head and instead dying I was turned into what you see before you...a cat" he states as he sits right in front of Rin. "She then explains to me that run on that cats-have-9-lives rule and so that I can't actually die till all my lives are gone and I'm now down to 7 lives left after you just murdered me in an emotional fueled rage" he states as continues to look up at him as his tail gently goes and up down against the floor.
"Did you get all that or are you still currently shitting your pants?"
Rin's face abruptly dropped into a scowl. "I didn't shit my pants, stupid," he retorted, placing hand on the wall to steady himself as he got up. He sighed, then looked down at the ca- Montagne. "Sorry," he muttered, then shook his head.
Forget it.
"So... what now?" he asked, though his eyes were far away, thoughts swirling and fading with a melancholy drive.
He wished his team was here. He wondered how they were doing. Did they think he was dead?
Somehow, he doubted it. They were stubborn that way.
He really missed them.
Forget it.
"So... what now?" he asked, though his eyes were far away, thoughts swirling and fading with a melancholy drive.
He wished his team was here. He wondered how they were doing. Did they think he was dead?
Somehow, he doubted it. They were stubborn that way.
He really missed them.
Laurent took offense and says "So what!? So what?! You murdered me!" As his fur stands up as well as his tail as he approaches Rins feet. "You are going to take responsibility for this...you are going to suffer a two part consequence. First one is non negotiable, you are going to take care me like pet/owner relationship till my original body returns and then we can focus on getting your damn percious hyperdrive that you want. The second consequence is that either A..." as he walks towards the bags and drags out the cat suit and continues "Wear the cat suit as the official uniform on my and your ship or B incur my wrath upon you" he says to him as he eyes him down angerily.
Rin froze, mouth open in a shocked 'oh' as his attention abruptly turned to the cat. Then he growled.
"I was going to take care of you, Montagne," he said lowly, fixing a hard stare down at him. "But why the everliving £&€¥ would I wear- wear-" he gestured wildly at the piece of clothing, "THAT?!"
He had no right. He didn't. He gritted his teeth, so done with everything. "Damn manipulative son of a-" he let out a frustrated huff, "I won't do it!" he blurted out.
"I was going to take care of you, Montagne," he said lowly, fixing a hard stare down at him. "But why the everliving £&€¥ would I wear- wear-" he gestured wildly at the piece of clothing, "THAT?!"
He had no right. He didn't. He gritted his teeth, so done with everything. "Damn manipulative son of a-" he let out a frustrated huff, "I won't do it!" he blurted out.
Laurent just stared back at him and says "So I'm going to take it that you want part B...I'll only do it for 5 minutes so this can only be a little blimp throughout our lives"
Just as says that, all of a sudden he jumps up towards Rin's face and begins to claw it as fast as he could. If Rin caught him, then his hand would get all scratched. As Laurent was clawing at Rin he would hiss and growl and made sure to stay on his face or hand as long as he could for the total of 5 minutes as he covers Rin in very painful scratches.
Just as says that, all of a sudden he jumps up towards Rin's face and begins to claw it as fast as he could. If Rin caught him, then his hand would get all scratched. As Laurent was clawing at Rin he would hiss and growl and made sure to stay on his face or hand as long as he could for the total of 5 minutes as he covers Rin in very painful scratches.
"$#&%!" Rin shouted, getting a faceful of shrieking, yowling cat. He clawed at its back to no avail, but when a claw swiped closer than he'd like to his eye, he started to lose it.
"Eek- Gah! Stop that, STUPID-" he stumbled around the room, trying to bat away the sharp claws, but was only rewarded with thin red stripes on the exposed skin of his fingers.
He sighed in exasperation, slumping a little. He guessed he deserved it- he narrowly dodged another paw to the eyeball- but. Not really. He'll let him have his fun. Kind of.
Just as long as he could still, you know, fight afterwards.
So by the time the five minutes were over, he had multiple scratches on his face (especially the cheeks, since he mostly turned his face away to those areas- the nose and forehead weren't that bad) and his fingers (which he used to block most of his attacks). Most of them were light, with a few deep ones that he was sure wasn't as bad as it probably looked. Or felt. A few lines of blood dripped onto his chest armor. He paid it no mind.
"Done with your little temper tantrum?" he asked wryly, ignoring the pull of his cheeks as he talked. It was just scratches. He could deal with the abuse.
"Eek- Gah! Stop that, STUPID-" he stumbled around the room, trying to bat away the sharp claws, but was only rewarded with thin red stripes on the exposed skin of his fingers.
He sighed in exasperation, slumping a little. He guessed he deserved it- he narrowly dodged another paw to the eyeball- but. Not really. He'll let him have his fun. Kind of.
Just as long as he could still, you know, fight afterwards.
So by the time the five minutes were over, he had multiple scratches on his face (especially the cheeks, since he mostly turned his face away to those areas- the nose and forehead weren't that bad) and his fingers (which he used to block most of his attacks). Most of them were light, with a few deep ones that he was sure wasn't as bad as it probably looked. Or felt. A few lines of blood dripped onto his chest armor. He paid it no mind.
"Done with your little temper tantrum?" he asked wryly, ignoring the pull of his cheeks as he talked. It was just scratches. He could deal with the abuse.
Maria looked at the Dragon-kin oddly. Never all the time she was on the job and when a bounty hunter was after her when they would ask if she was okay. She gave a little chuckle and says "I feel just fine now, thanks for asking...and cooperating" as gestures with her pistol for the Z-bots to apprehend Illyia. They nercously went up and put her under energy handcuffs even though knowing the strenght of her oppenent knew she can pop out of those at anytime.
It wouldn't be long when the drop ship arrives. Maria by this time held onto her hat as she puts the pistol away as the dropship kicked up a lot of dust. "Come on! You guys first I have the dragon!" she calls out. The Z-bots looked at each other in puzzlement but did as they ordered and went into the dropship first. Then Doc-bots soon complied as well, in which Maria slowly walks up to Illyia and scoops her up in a bridal carry. Her face strained feeling how heavy the dragon was. "Its not good for you to walk on a broken leg" she mutters as she trys her best to carry her to the dropship. "Jeez your heavy! Even for me and that's saying something!" she stammers as she gets onto the dropship and places Illyia on a seat and Maria sat next to her.
"You are definitely an odd ball...I kinda like that, what are you called around these parts?" she asks as she looks at the Dragon lady very curiously, wanting to ask her a couple of questions, but would have to wait till Illyia was in a cell. One quick glance the Z-bots were a bit nervous about this strange creature that was on broad and not gone ballistic like some other wild beasts they have encountered. It wouldn't be too long till they arrive to the lead ship of the fleet of battleships up in high orbit.
It wouldn't be long when the drop ship arrives. Maria by this time held onto her hat as she puts the pistol away as the dropship kicked up a lot of dust. "Come on! You guys first I have the dragon!" she calls out. The Z-bots looked at each other in puzzlement but did as they ordered and went into the dropship first. Then Doc-bots soon complied as well, in which Maria slowly walks up to Illyia and scoops her up in a bridal carry. Her face strained feeling how heavy the dragon was. "Its not good for you to walk on a broken leg" she mutters as she trys her best to carry her to the dropship. "Jeez your heavy! Even for me and that's saying something!" she stammers as she gets onto the dropship and places Illyia on a seat and Maria sat next to her.
"You are definitely an odd ball...I kinda like that, what are you called around these parts?" she asks as she looks at the Dragon lady very curiously, wanting to ask her a couple of questions, but would have to wait till Illyia was in a cell. One quick glance the Z-bots were a bit nervous about this strange creature that was on broad and not gone ballistic like some other wild beasts they have encountered. It wouldn't be too long till they arrive to the lead ship of the fleet of battleships up in high orbit.
Ketin was right and Nirix was starting to realize this more often than not. She had never really doubted that he possessed such wisdom but the fact that she was truly listening made everything so much more real.
She really did apologize too much.
His voice helped her relax, he was calm and reassuring, the complete opposite of what her frayed nerves were doing to her psyche. She realized she needed to be that, to return to her normal, cool and collected persona and to bury the nervous mess that she had become.
Nirix was an Assassin after all. Assassins didn't get stressed over something as simple as conversation.
A smile crept onto her face as she easily caught the coin that was tossed her way. Lavender eyes gleamed positively, the picture of a clear mind, were once they had been closed to block out her anxiety. Nirix felt better, Ketin had made her feel better and she opened her mouth to respond, to speak her thanks to him for helping before she was reminded again:
There was a knock at the door.
Closing the coin in her palm, the Eoclu focused on the cold texture that the coin spread through her hand as she moved to stand and answer the door. She would be like the coin for now. Cold and grounded and when needed, Nirix would flip and be herself.
"Yes?" She swung the door open and let her lavender eyes peer at the human in front of her. He was male, scruffy and worn from an obvious long deal of travel. Nirix could not determine how old he was, human ages were hard to figure out for her, but she had to guess he was not a child.
Regardless of his appearance, Nirix made sure to casually let her hand slip near the hilt of her sword that was now leisurely strapped to her hip. She would make note of any sudden moves.
She really did apologize too much.
His voice helped her relax, he was calm and reassuring, the complete opposite of what her frayed nerves were doing to her psyche. She realized she needed to be that, to return to her normal, cool and collected persona and to bury the nervous mess that she had become.
Nirix was an Assassin after all. Assassins didn't get stressed over something as simple as conversation.
A smile crept onto her face as she easily caught the coin that was tossed her way. Lavender eyes gleamed positively, the picture of a clear mind, were once they had been closed to block out her anxiety. Nirix felt better, Ketin had made her feel better and she opened her mouth to respond, to speak her thanks to him for helping before she was reminded again:
There was a knock at the door.
Closing the coin in her palm, the Eoclu focused on the cold texture that the coin spread through her hand as she moved to stand and answer the door. She would be like the coin for now. Cold and grounded and when needed, Nirix would flip and be herself.
"Yes?" She swung the door open and let her lavender eyes peer at the human in front of her. He was male, scruffy and worn from an obvious long deal of travel. Nirix could not determine how old he was, human ages were hard to figure out for her, but she had to guess he was not a child.
Regardless of his appearance, Nirix made sure to casually let her hand slip near the hilt of her sword that was now leisurely strapped to her hip. She would make note of any sudden moves.
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