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+--- Thread: Resolution (/showthread.php?tid=16367)
Resolution - Chubbs Story Account - 02-23-2011
Fucking explosions and shit and craters and guns and shit, I want out, I want fucking out.
Izzit over?
Maybe?
The spaceport is fucking toast, TOAST. That crazy-ass monster bitch exploded. There’s nothing fucking left.
Have you ever seen something like this?
Goddamn, I don’t want to move.
Goddamn, I want to go home.
It’s over right? That’s it; the Myreen is destroyed, all their forces are shattered.
I haven’t heard from command, until I hear from command, we’re at war, respect, solidary, fraternity, egality, get the fuck in line
Should we shoot them? Put them out of their misery? That whole thing? I mean, they’re still our enemy right?
I just want to go home.
===================
Tears, joy, a world of flustered papers and erratic beeps and men hugging each other and women hugging each other
Victory. The Namekian defense was a victory. Chairs spun and rocked against the samba of feet stomping and leaping for victory. Sons and daughters were coming home, and for now, the universe was the happiest place to be.
================
People were dying everywhere, and most of them didn’t know each other. Everyone dies alone.
There, a shot to the head. There, a shot to the chest.
There, a bleeding out shot to the chest.
There, a kneeling man, tending wounds, fighting against an equal and opposite force.
And it was tenuous and everything that could be done was being done, and all the hope that could be hoped was hoped and hoped
And a fractured friend hovered above, helping and doing and squeezing and don’t let go
An exploding ship eclipsed the sun
And the consciousness slipped, and the heart stopped beating, and Jarka slipped quietly past the veil.
================
The planets celebrated, while the heroes picked their way through the reality of the dead left-overs. Now to get rid of the bodies. Now to replant the forests. We must rebuild, we must prepare for what comes next, we must plan and think, we must inform the widows and see that they are taken care of.
What do we do about the remnants?
What do we do about Mercy?
Mercy, and silence. It was a transient victory, a success paired with a failure.
There was no room for middle-ground emotions, so there was no room to think about Mercy today. Maybe tomorrow.
Mercy, and silence.
[With this, the saga comes to a close. Now is the time to segue to your respective planets. Post here as necessary to conclude your contribution to the saga.
If you do not receive a PM from me, then you survived, as far as I'm concerned. It's up to you to decide what that means; how you escaped, what you will do now, etc.
Cheers to all.]
Resolution - Shane Warnock - 02-23-2011
Another invader down at the hands of Shane, but they were like ants, no matter how many you squashed twice as much emerged from within the soil. At the rate they were going both Shane and Prue’s energies would continue to diminish until they had nothing left, and even then, the enemies would still keep coming. The irony was that when the war had begun the combination of earth’s representatives and the warriors of planet mercy had outnumbered their enemy but now it were the invaders who outnumbered them proving that the quality of an army was better than the quantity of one. The alien invaders had been too much for them to handle, it was that simple.
“It’s over,” said Prue, shaking her head in disbelief as her allies continued to get manhandled. “There’s nothing we can do for this planet now.”
“They’ve won…say it,” replied Shane.
“I don’t believe it,” she laughed. “Never thought I’d live to see the day that the army of earth actually lost a war.”
“Never had you down as the pessimistic type.”
“Just stating facts.”
“We may be losing the battle, but we ain’t lost the war.”
“Exactly so let’s head back to earth while we still can, heal and then plan a counterattack.”
Shane glanced around; there was blood everywhere accompanied by dead invaders and dead inhabitants of Mercy. Any normal person with no experience in war should have cringed at that point but it was the images of dead humans that caused him to cringe. Why did things have to turn out so bad?
Shane frowned. Life was not fair.
This was not just about the reward money anymore; the situation had gotten personal. Too many allies had died valiantly for the safety of their planets. If he were to retreat like the many others around him then those who had died on the battlefields sacrifices would be in vain.
“Nothing’s stopping you from leaving but I’m fighting this battle till the end,” said Shane.
“Get a grip on reality Shane. I thought you were smarter than that.”
“The invaders bleed, so in my book they aren’t unbeatable,” he replied as golden ki swirled to life in his palms, his brown eyes bearing a look of determination. “Plus you know that old saying; it ain’t all over till the fat lady sings.”
“She’s been singing for the last three hours!”
Not only had Prue travelled to Mercy with him, fought alongside him, but he was a colleague so she could not just abandon him. It was like her brother Kirano said, ‘those who abandon their teammates are worse than scum.’
“You can stand there all you want but I’m going in again.” The ki orbs that waited patiently in his palms hummed.
“Sorry,” she replied, and in a flicker moved a meter in distance, positioning herself behind him and joining her hands. Before Shane even realised it, Prue slammed her forearm into the back of his neck. It was quick and painless and resulted in Shane falling onto his front, losing consciousness as soon as he had hit planet mercy’s turf.
“I see what you did there.” Prue turned from Shane to view the male onlooker. “Need a hand with him?” the earthling asked, trails of blood on the right hand side of his face.
“Nah, I’m cool.” Prue would have preferred to teleport them back to earth but she did not have enough ki to teleport that far. She did however have enough reserved to teleport back to the alternative, the area where the ships that had arrived to mercy from earth were, that was if they were still there. If not, earth’s survivors would be screwed. At this point she had nothing to lose by going back and finding out.
Prue envisioned the place where she had boarded to planet mercy, simultaneously placing a hand on Shane and then moments later the figures disappeared, leaving behind black particles of haze, reappearing to the area of the ships. She winced due to the feeling of her muscles being stretched. She had reached the point where she barely had enough ki to produce an energy wave.
There were hundreds of earth’s fighters there, even some aliens that belonged to mercy. They all had one thing in common; they were injured one way or another, those of course in worse condition than others. Medics were all over the place, mostly human but a small number of alien nurses too.
There were stretchers that carried people onto all three of the ships, others that escorted their comrades onto the ship and then there were those that were healthy enough to walk on their own two feet, however wore dispirited expressions on their faces, and then there were those who just stood still in catatonic states. This was not abnormal; war caused trauma.
Among the nurses she spotted a brunette haired woman in her early twenties using her healing ability to treat a wounded man. The golden light that had emerged from her palms slowly began to fade. She was an advanced healer.
“Anna!” Prue called. Prue’s father’s housemaid glanced up at her. “You’ll be fine now,” the angelic looking healer said to the solider she had partially healed with a smile, and then she stood up and ran towards the unconscious man by the teenage girl.
“No, don’t worry about him. If he recovers he’ll just go back to the battlefield.” She gazed at Shane and sighed. “Men.”
Resolution - Victoria - 02-24-2011
The space port, along with the surrounding buildings and streets, was a smoking battleground. Buildings that had been located near the tarmac of the landing strip were all but obliterated, nothing except burnt husks of what once was. A massive crater ate up the cement and the soil, meters deep in a curvature that led to the apex of the explosion. Bodies were gone, dust in the wind, the invaders that had surrounded were never to be seen again. In the center, a smaller crater of crushed and cracked dirt and rock remained a smoking figure. The cause of the massive explosion of light, electricity, and power. It had all come to a climatic close. The mission had been completed, everything would be washed away, brought anew. There was nothing left of their enemy. The falling Myreen burnt like the three sun's of Namek, smoke billowing into the sky, it's beautiful metallic hull exploding into brilliant fragments that would never see the light of day again. Perhaps it would sink into the ocean...or become dust in the wind, like everything else.
Her explosive might had swept across the perimeter at such a scale that she had never done before. Within heart-pounding moments it lingered, and then sucked inwards like a vacuum, leaving behind the wasteland that was now exposed. Angry thunderheads roiled in the heavens, blotting out the expansive sky, and the warmth of the suns glaring down. Droplets ascended and sizzled on the heated crater. There she remained, smoke curling off her body, rainwater becoming steam as if slamming against an overheated engine. Victoria crumpled to her knees. Globes of water clung to her hair, vibrant like freshly chewed bubblegum once more. Cracked skin bled painfully, fighting to heal, but the reserves of her energy was so damn depleted. All of it was gone, save that which was her base strength. Victoria stared up at the brooding heavens.
“Come to wash me away?” the youth croaked, and fell forward. Her body hit the broken ground and her blue eyes fluttered to maintain their open state. She could see the hazy horizon past the brim of her pseudo grave. Was she dying, she wondered? There was a moment where she believed this, but, as she stared at her hand lying limping in her peripheral vision she knew it wasn't so. The peeled flesh, very much like chemical burns, was beginning to regrow. The most subtle of sighs, like the wind in the proverbial tree leaves, fell from her lips and she closed her eyes. It would be alright. He said he'd save her.
Victoria eventually sat up within the drizzle of the rain, palms and knees supporting her meager weight. The world was a blur to her, everything off kilter. There were no more aliens. Their ship was gone, and her mind was trying to recall the ethereal bliss she had submerged herself into. All she garnered now was a throbbing headache. Her stomach roiled and she vomited abruptly, bile combined with leaking rain water into the cracks her shattering power had developed.
“Where are they?”
Her blue weary eyes lifted and she looked to the left, the right, but she saw nothing. No buildings, no people, not even corpses. Her tired legs lifted her body. The girl couldn't remember being so tired, so out of sorts, not like this. She wondered if they were alright, if her team mates made it through the war. Their journey had been long, over a month, the days had meshed together. She had lost someone close. Perhaps it had been silly, spur of the moment love, but it was there. The pain from losing so much for the future, what could have been, made her heart as weary as her body. Yet here they were. This was Roy Munin's dream. A part that would say, hey, we did this. Earth did this.
Victoria made it a few steps before having to settle on her knees again. She would rest here a moment, or three, they were the winners. People would be singing in their homes, their pubs, and the streets. Namek had been saved and Earth was their saviors. Kai was smiling on them today; Roy was smiling on them. This made the hunter smile, too, a sweet thing it was. She gazed to the rainy sky and the corners of her lips tugged wider, her mind could finally be at peace. Now she could move on. All she had to do was find her friends. Life at Zone Five felt so bitter compared to the souls she had grown close to as of late. Sigfried and his grumpy disposition, Skoll with his silence and his stares, Hati, his antics and tomfoolery, and Jarka, innocent Jarka, many times Victoria wished she could have been just like that cook. Maybe, just maybe, she could live just like them now. Victoria liked the idea of teaching Jarka more about ki, as she had been taught, it was a beautiful train of thought.
A black shape circled, and her crystalline eyes flicked to the gray storm-clouds. She watched with vacant eyes, it's feathers glistened in the light rainfall. It reminded her of that damn bird she had nearly caught in the beginning....and then she remembered. None of those invaders had been real. Sigfried had fooled so many people, including her. She sighed and bowed her head as black became red. The college drop-out, now warrior, stood on the cusp of her crater. Victoria stood up and began to walk. Her leather armor had been rendered into shreds on her damaged body, as cracked and burnt as the scene before them. Thankfully she was still modest, mostly. Wind plucked at her long tresses, they drifted to the side prettily, and in the silence between the two the girl smiled softly.
“We did it,” she said, her voice rough from the battle. “Where's Jarka?” her gaze flicked from side to side assuming the aspiring warrior was trailing behind.
“Vic...”
“I can't believe that we did it, I wasn't sure,” she chuckled to herself, unable to hear him over her own elation. A hand lifted to her cheek where a crack was felt with a wince, but her smile was maintained. Fingers went to her cherry blossom hair instead and she threaded a hand gently through some of the length. “It's...it's amazing,” she turned suddenly as she spoke. “I wish he could see this. I know that he never knew about me, about...what I just did.” Victoria looked around the damaged land. It would take work to make it return to it's former state, grow again, be built again. “But I think Roy would have been proud. I wish he were here...we did it for him, well, I did. I may not be free like you guys, but I do what I need to for those I care about. Even if you made those invaders up, they were real here, and I killed them. I can move on knowing that...despite that lie, Roy would have wanted all of this.”
She turned again, her boots had been burnt away in the exposure, leaving her feet to become wet in the mud. “Did you know that the day he died he said he would save me?” she asked softly. Sigfried neither shook his head, nor did he nod, but his eyes were filled with something she couldn't place. “I think he did. I never expected someone to walk into my life like that. Yes, at first it was all just...just me acting, but then he surprised me. Me! I wanted to know more about him, but this was enough, and I will never forget him. Roy changed my life, he saved me.” Rain splattered against her face, mixing with lingering crystal tears, but she was crying out of happiness.
“Where's Jarka? You should have changed into an airplane or something,” she said in jest, wiping her wrist against her eyes. The warmth was there. Although her shaky disposition was unlike that of the warrior whom had left the Utterance of Kai, she was so much better than before. “And Skoll, and Hati,” she added, gaze almost child-like in appearance as she peeked around Sigfried.
Victoria hadn't seen much of them during the fight. To be honest; the hunter didn't want them to get hurt. She didn't think she'd survive at all. The power had been too much for her body to contain. Her brilliance had distracted so many of the invaders, but left plenty for her friends to pick at. Surely, she mused, they had won. They were probably waiting at the boarder of the blast zone. Perhaps Jarka would be kind enough to make pancakes again; the best pancakes in the world, she swore. The thought didn't bring back sad memories, but good ones this time. Pancakes were always good. Friends were good. Why was Sigfried so quiet?
“Sigfried,” Victoria took a hesitating step forward, and her warm eyes began to waver in uncertainty. “Where are they?” The pound of the rain beat with the heart in her chest.
Just say...just say it isn't so.
Resolution - Jarka - 02-24-2011
It is not wholly possible to explain what it is like to die.
Flowery language illustrating the sweeping crescendo of sweet azure light bathing the soul as it initiates its journey to the heavenly hereafter is a farce. A lie invented to comfort the survivors. "She may have passed on, but at least she did not suffer."
Fuck that.
Death is excruciating. It can be the the slow withering away to a cancer or blood disease. It can be the nondescript death during a nondescript slumber. It can be a shot to the chest on a battlefield. No matter how it happens, the experience is agonizing, horrendous, unbearable. That's why it's called death.
The body may not be in pain, but the mind screams in terror as the nerves lose their sensation and synapses dim. The human body is designed to adapt and survive. Every action we make has evolved from some means of protecting our lives. Death is biological failure.
A mind of its own is an apt phrase for the situation. The brain allows the consciousness to maintain its grip for a time, allows the wonderful final words and embarrassing final thoughts to flow forth. Oh god the oven is still on... I should have fucked him when I had the chance... I never learned a foreign language... I hope I don't shit myself... I'm sure I'll be fine; I’m sure they can save me...
Then the brain decides it has had enough. No more thoughts to understand, only pure, instinctual feeling. It has to focus. It has to survive. You are in the way. You are temporary and serve only to distract. You are finished.
It snatches control from your consciousness. You didn't know what to do with it, anyway. The brain examines every possible escape from demise, despite the distracting buzz from the last whimpers of your inner monologue. It will give you a quick burst of euphoria, one last pump of serotonin to make you feel warm and fuzzy for just one more moment. After that, it cuts you off. You're a thinking, experiencing person in touch with the world then a blink and you're just there. No real thoughts, just sensations without words without meaning without description.
This is when the brain can go to work. It's far from perfect, far from efficient at this point. It has few goals. Maintain vitals: heart and lungs. Remove from danger, remove from pain. Ignore extremities. Protect torso, protect head. Survive.
It's a lost cause and the brain knows it. The beautiful thing about the automatic response of the mind is that it just doesn't give up. So long as there's enough blood to carry enough oxygen to fuel enough impulses it will carry on living. It is the perfect machine trapped in an imperfect casing. The body will give out.
This is where the horror comes. The brain needs to focus; it lets the body go numb. It feels cold, so fucking cold. There is no way to respond to the torments - the brain has long since eliminated any sort of muscular reaction. The last fragments of humanity sense the urgency, the fear, the struggle. Panic. There is nothing to be done.
The last thing anybody feels before they really and truly die is a sense of failure. The brain realizes there is no hope. It could not accomplish the one purpose it had in its limited existence: survival. Everything is futile. No use trying anymore.
The last of the synapses blink out. No more senses. Only emptiness. Coldness. Death.
The body falls limp. Barely tensed muscles are released as the weary brain collapses. An arm slides to the dusty ground; her head sags. Eyes so full of life, so full of charm, so full of charisma are so empty, so dull, so void. There is nothing left.
The girl, the psychic, the chef, the friend becomes the husk. The body. The corpse.
She may have passed on, but at least she did not suffer.
Fuck that.
Resolution - Sigfried Hunin - 02-24-2011
A dry wind brushed against the two as they stood in the wasteland they had created. Certainly, they had done it. They had blasted the Invaders from another world into fine particles of dust. Well, Victoria had, really. Victoria made all of it possible, if for nothing more than her power. Roy had taken her up as a pretty face, a woman to head to convince the people of the revolution. Sigfried had used her as a show of power, a heavy hand to make way for his glorious vision. She had been the battery for his doomsday device and the head of a frontal assault on a full on army of the yellow bastards.
And yet, who was it that they were fighting? The enemy, surely, surely it was the spawn of some devil brood sent from space to destroy the peace and civility that the Earth territories had created. They chose their planets wisely, Namek was fairly defenseless and Mercy was too disjointed to mount their mighty warriors in defense. They had struck quickly and in full force, entrenching themselves across the continent and assaulting pivotal points first. Space Port and the Sky Hook were the first ones to go.
Yet, he had never even spoken to one of the enemy. He didn’t know their language, their agenda, hell, he didn’t even know their race. He took up the mantle of executioner in the name of what? To convince the people of Earth that he really was the champion they had been waiting for? That the war he had led on the planet was real? Well he wasn’t; it was fake. He had not only lied to the people, he had begun to lie to himself.
He had told himself that he was here for the people, to show the support of the Earth on foreign soil and to bring home those men and women who were willing to die for the cause. He had taken warriors - he couldn’t even call them soldiers as they were too fine a specimen - and laid waste to the already ravaged alien world. He had fired an asteroid at them.
He had killed a woman’s one true love. He had dragged a chef onto the battlefield.
“Jarka was shot.” His voice was plain, and he could not bear to watch the look of elation wash away from Victoria’s face. “I left her at a temporary way station when I heard the explosion. She was in a rough way but stable when I left.”
The rain sank into him, chilling him even as the heat radiated from the floor and Victoria’s body. He let the cold in. He wanted to feel it. He cocked his head back towards the building. “Come on back, Vic. We can debrief you, huh?”
With that, a crow fluttered up into the sky and began to soar towards the small, war-torn suburbs just outside the walls of the Port. Victoria bounded after, her very essence crackling in the air as she bound to and fro. Her flesh had already began to seal together, glowing cracks remaining like the faults of an earthquake. The ravaged landscape below smoldered and hissed out to him like the remains of a volcanic eruption. The poor citizens of Ja City would not recover for some time now. That is, the citizens who survived.
An immolated vehicle lay flipped on the side of the street, a tiny trail of smoke still lingering as it rose from the scorched interior. How many hours had the owner worked to earn that car? How many days and nights had they suffered at some desk to pump out the earnings that were required to purchase the latest model of sports car from the big dealers? Was the owner even still alive? What about their children and their lovers? What about the lives that never will be because of the struggle this planet had put up? Maybe the universe would have been a better place if the Invaders had taken over. Benevolent dictators, perhaps. He could never know the answer to these questions.
What about the Invaders? He wondered if they had families in the same sense that humans did. Namekians puked up eggs, so who knows what these guys did. He hadn’t personally killed them with that space rock, but he may as well have. He almost wished he could go back and time and look into their eyes as he killed them. He wanted to empathize with them and feel their pain. It wasn’t fair what he had done to them.
Then again, that’s the nature of war. You want something and so you try to take it, but the other person doesn’t want to give it up. So you send people to take it for you. People who believe in your cause, who believe that you’re doing the right thing, in their name.
Sigfried had sent people to war, too.
The crow wildly flapped its wings as it descended upon the shell of a home that the good Sergeant and his men had taken up post in. Landing upon the window sill, it quirked its tiny black head towards the members of the squad and cawed loudly. As their attentions were drawn by the bird, Victoria sprinted in through a half open door, slamming it into the wall and startling the gunner stationed behind it. Thankfully the man had a cool trigger finger.
“Where is she?” Sigfried stormed through the center of the room and past the Squad Leader. He simply gestured towards the back room and returned his attention to the stillness outside.
Throwing the door open, the light was cast dimly into the dusty chamber that was once a bed room. Skoll and Hati stood on either side of the bed, their eyes cast down. Jarka lay there, still and quiet on the bed, her arms crossed over her chest. Her head was propped up on a blood stained pillow, her eyes sealed. It was as though she was asleep.
Sigfried cast a glance between the brothers, a sense of panic welling up within him. He made his way forward and stood at the side of the bed. Leaning in, he grasped her arm gently and shook it. “Jarka?” he called out softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Hey, Jarky… I went and got Vic.” Wetness began to well up in his eyes and he sniffed once firmly. “Jarky?” His fingers dug into her shoulder deeply and he pulled himself in closer. “Jarka?”
Victoria’s form obscured the light of the doorway, but her presence did not disturb Sigfried. “Jarka?” His voice rose slightly, and his hands lay upon her heavily, pushing her into the bed. “Jarka?!” He screamed now, his face flush and wet from tears now. He shook her violently now, her hand slipping from her chest, “Jarka, Kai damn you, ANSWER ME!” His voice cracked and he went on. “ANSWER ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH!”
Hati leaned in and touched his shoulders, beginning to whisper some condolence and he tore away from the body. The back of his hand lifted to his mouth as his bloodshot eyes leaked over him. He pushed past Victoria and into the house, his quick steps sweeping him from the place and into the open streets.
“Fuck,” he swore as he paced around in the light of Namek’s suns. “Fuck, man!” His throat was choked by some unseen hand, garbling his voice. “Fuck!” He tossed his hands towards the ground in a fit of uncontrollable emotion. “FUCKING DAMN IT!” His sorrow gave way to rage as he slung his fist forward into a nearby wall, denting his knuckles.
Backing away for a moment, he took a deep, shuddering breath. His eyes glanced back to the room through the opening he had left from, and once more it struck at his heart. He felt it sink within him, weighing down his body as he moved around. Adrenalin numbed his hands and shook his form uncontrollably. He planted his hands on his hips and drew in another slow breath and exhaling quickly. Wiping the snot and tears away from his face with the back of his hand and then his palms he inhaled once again.
“Okay,” he told himself. “Okay.” He nodded and began to walk back into the structure, the same furious pace that had taken him out leading him back in. He stood across Victoria’s shocked, startled… stalling form and knelt in, looking at her face.
“I’m sorry, Jarka…” He swept a stray hair from her face, wet and sticky from sweat. Her skin was cold now and very, very pale. His hand found its way around a thin metal chain about her neck, and he removed the clasp. He drug out the small crystal which she had worn for the entire time he had known her and tucked it into his palm. “I am so… so sorry.”
He abruptly stood erect and turned away from her, once again finding the need to clean his face. He made his way for the doorway and into the light of the never-ending day of Namek. “Take her body with you. We’re done on this fucking planet.”
Resolution - Mal Nova - 02-25-2011
Red.
It was a color that symbolized and screamed out for alertness. Be it derived in the form of 'seeing red', which meant that a person had snapped and was in angry state; Or perhaps the color of many of the sapein races blood after it is spilled and connects with the oxidized nature of the elements. It also was a sign of exit.
And an Exit it had been, as the time neared and Maleficus had to get them all off the ship. He pulled out the final portal capsule and released it...
--
Nova looked down from a hill. Not only him, but everyone else was tired and out of breath. Nova had never felt so weak, but it seemed that it was Tamsin, closest to him that was taking it the hardest. her close were soaked and she was nearly in tears. Maleficus looked back and it was Retane and Enroshia that met him. Enroshia had been the one to transport them all to safety. His cloth was red and after using a green portal and having Retane appear it was nearly obvious. Mal Nova had wondered if it was a self destruct portal.
"I can't create to many portals without burning energy", The white haired mystic spoke as the son of Retane grasped his neck, but he never flinched, "So it had to tire you out. Don't you think Retane would have been a lot stronger then he was if it wasn't so taxing?"
Nova looked to Retane who had straightened himself and realized that it could have been most taxing on him.
"She's sick and dying you fucking moron! It's her god damned soul that's being attacked more then anything. Don't you get it? The signs of her purest dedication and determination were there for you! You're just to fucking stupid! I never should have never saved your fucking life back then!" Enroshia went for his blade, but a hand slightly faster then his or more anticipating, caught it. Enro looked down not to find Retane's, but Desoin's. Retane stood close between the two, but he said nothing. Enroshia ripped himself from the Jade Fiend's grip who had been taken aback by those words.
A portal opened before anyone could speak and Enroshia was gone.
"He's actually wore out." Desoin and Nova looked to Retane, "He taxed himself greatly to get me here along with himself. He doesn't create the portals with the exception of moving himself. Add that with making Three portals keys and getting everyone to safety. It's wore him out. And not many want to be seen tired."
Desoin looked puzzled for a moment but nodded, "He's faster then me."
The Rogue turned his attention away, knowing he was to tired to argue and could only do what he should have always been doing, He scooped Tamsin up, though she tried to argue, and materialized his own cloak. atop of her. She muttered something in the end as Nova and all but Desoin, Talysyn, and Retane remained. Talysyn would have went but the skill wasn't in her capabilities.
The Mystic and Namek looked on after them. "Will she be ok?", Came the fiery young lass.
Retane didn't move as he looked on, after the pain he knew he had caused. Some where deep down inside he wanted to explode, but he knew he had to watch it all over again.
Desoin turned to the girl and a tear that seemed to separate itself from the raindrops, told her all she could ever know.
Talysyn fell to her knees and wept.
Resolution - Android-18 - 02-26-2011
The fight had occurred so blindingly fast. Lo’clia did her best to keep up with Sophia’s magic, and Kaden’s wizardry. Her sword bit through invader flesh like a knife through butter. There was demonic blood all over the engine room, and splattered against her armour. The blade of her weapon was slathered by the life-juices, dripping wildly with every swing. Before long, the only sound that could be heard was that of the humming engines and heavy breathes that left their lips. The princess looked to her comrades, people whom she had only just met hours ago, wordless.
“What’s he doing?” she whispered low to the woman beside her.
“He’s doing what he always does.”
Loch stared in confusion and then stumbled. The ship could be felt moving, as minimal as it was; it was inching away from the city. She sheathed her sword and watched in awe. She couldn’t see the full extent of his skills at play, but she could see beyond the ripped metal and the land moving below. This was intense.
An explosion shuddered through the craft, and then another. “They set the bombs,” Kaden called out. His job was done; the alien ship was headed away from Ja City and toward the coast. With any luck it would sail toward its demise...hopefully without them onboard.
“We have to get out of here!” Sophia grabbed Lo’clia’s wrist and tugged her along, following the blonde male as he dashed past them.
“Y-yes! Of course!” she agreed and her feet took on an agile speed. They raced along the corridor that had come from. Another explosion sounded off, they were ripping apart the hull of the ship, and moving along. Soon the entire craft would explode into chaos around them.
“We’ll have to take that ship again,” Kaden said over his shoulder, and the trio skidded through the open doorways. By now the entire ship was shaking, metal creaked and moaned from the pressure of the explosion. The courier lifted his hands and, rather than finding the button, he used his energy to tear a hole through the docking ramp to make it unhinge and fly off toward the ground below. They clambered into the small vessel soon afterward.
“Push the button!” Sophia looked toward Loch.
“What? I don’t recall which-
Kaden slammed his hand down on the panel wildly, and the doors hissed closed. The ship trembled like a leaf in the wind, before it suddenly shot through the opening and into the brooding cloudy sky. Rain pelted the metallic shell, but they couldn’t hear it, the force of their blast off made the two mages and the knight grip whatever they could and try to not become smeared against the back of the ship. When the pull of the ship’s speed finally normalized, and Kaden, with eyes closed tight, tapped wildly at a big red button, their world was finally righted.
“That was fun.”
Sophia shot Loch an incredulous look. The princess smiled as if she had just taken a ride on a rollercoaster. Her eyes were wide, and staring out of the window, all but climbing over Kaden to do so. The world spread out below them, Ja City was smoking and ruined around the space port. Rain began to obscure the view as the small craft sailed leisurely across the city.
Using a guessing game of ‘which button will land the ship’ they finally settled on a grassy knoll just outside of the city. Loch walked a few feet away, her gaze pinned to the sky, their conquest finished. Myreen slowly careened toward the vast ocean, flames licking the sky along with ebony clouds of smoke and bits of burning debris. The air smelt nice, fresh, the rain gentle in her hair and against her face.
“Now, when will this dream end? I saved the two guides, and we successfully sunk the sky ship,” Loch asked herself, hands on her hips. Her violet eyes flicked left and right as she waited. This adventure was done...so, she wondered, why was she still here?
“Wizard! I demand you return me.”
“What the...” Kaden scratched the back of his head. “Anyway, we should check out Spacey’s, I hear they have some great food.”
Sophia pulled her gaze away from the princess, and to her companion. “Shouldn’t we find out what her deal is? She did, you know, fall out of the sky,” the girl motioned toward the clouds with a hand as she spoke.
“Why isn’t this working…?” Loch weaved a hand through her tresses and turned toward the pair. “I’m not supposed to be here. My request was fulfilled. We completed our quest, didn’t we?”
“How exactly did you get here?” Kaden asked.
“A wizard,” Loch confessed, hands beginning to wring together. “You see, I went to see the wizard in the forests. I asked him to teleport me to the adventure, a place where I could finally do whatever I wanted, rather than live the life my father laid out for me. Isn’t this Namek near Forar?” Her eyes wavered as she stared at them.
“Oh, boy,” Sophia gnawed on her bottom lip in thought. “How do I put this?” she began. “You’re not anywhere near Forar, or any Kingdom. This is Namek, planet Namek. I don’t think your wizard sent you where you wanted to go.”
Lo’clia’s eyes widened and she lifted a hand to her mouth in shock. “No?” she breathed. Suddenly the princess began to pace. “A planet, another planet? This doesn’t make any sense. Such things aren’t possible! I need to go home…I don’t belong here. Oh no!” she became a frantic mess, no longer so calm and collected. Although she tried to be a mighty knight, it was all under the belief that she was not far from home. She was a young girl playing dress up. Underneath it all she was still just a princess, lost, having never even left the boundaries of her own Kingdom.
“Please,” she turned to them once more with fingers clasped. “You must help me, you’re my only hope.”
Resolution - Prototype - 02-26-2011
The air was empty. Once dominated by the bellicose mechanical monstrosity that coordinated and controlled the invasion of Ja City, a pervading sense of freedom filled the brave warriors who looked to the sky. In the pallid green swum sparse, insubstantial clouds that blew about in the gentle winds. Any remnant of the Grand Ship Myreen had parted from above, instead dispersed chaotically in huge chunks of irregular metal over the Namekian landscape. The destruction had been absolute. The war for Namek was won.
Bodies littered the plains. Many alien, many native, while some belonged to the valiant men and women of varying races who gave up their lives for one singular purpose; liberation. The planet was pockmarked by the destructive taint of war. Long standing trees were obliterated into nothing, while some were torn from the soil and dumped into the ocean. Craters that could contain a lake scarred the beautiful terrain. The peculiar blue grass existed in random clumps, and even where it wasn't scorched from the earth, its unique colour began to fade. Namek hadn't fallen, but what a price it paid for its victory.
Ja City was ablaze. The militia that held out at the spaceport crumpled soon after the departure of Vad, Trixie and Robert. Flames hungrily consumed buildings and corpses alike. The stench of death and ruin stung the nostrils of the selfless groups that dashed about the city, battling the remaining elements of the war. Hover trucks crawled solemnly through the streets, coming to a halt whenever a dead body was found. Attendants collected the deceased and respectfully lowered them into the trailer before continuing on their way. Emergency services tended to the wounded; many sustained damage during the individual skirmishes, but an unfortunate part of the ailing were hit by the haphazard debris of the destroyed Myreen, putting extra strain on the medical staff. Fire engines hurriedly doused inferno after raging inferno before the whole of Ja City was one simmering conflagration.
In one particular high rise building, surrounded by voracious fire, a solitary figure sprawled over the floor. Jagged shards of glass lay around him. A broken window wasn't far away. The flames traveled over their fuel sources, incinerating carpet, plaster, chairs and whatever else permitted its struggle for survival. Black smoke billowed out of the shattered window, but amidst the innumerable structures doing the same thing, it wasn't about to catch anyone's eye. Creaking of floorboards and the twisting of metal girders screeched over the crackling of the flames, but the unconscious person had no idea what was going on.
Suddenly, reality swam into his mind.
Robert shot up. The first thing that registered with him was the unbelievable aching of his entire body. Everything seemed operational, and he doubted that any limbs were broken. He groaned as he climbed to his feet. He was still housed within the Prototype suit. Mottled with nicks and large fissures, Robert wondered how the armour hadn't peeled off his body.
Then he noticed the fire. It was everywhere. Smoke invaded his lungs. He stumbled away, coughing vigorously. Where was he? How did he get where he was?
Prototype noticed the militant march of the smoke to the window. A window! He started to sprint over. The disconcerting sounds of the skyscraper buckling to the will of the inferno seemed to threaten him, to mock him, that his death was imminent. He ignored it, pressing through the condensed charcoal plume.
His heavy metallic foot abruptly crashed through the floor as he ran. Prototype shouted in fear, his body collapsing to the ground. The flames were closing in on him. Hastily he hauled his leg out of the crater in the floor. A brilliant red-orange glow pulsed below. Robert had never tested the suit's capability to withstand intense heat. In any case, even if it could, he theorised that he'd cook in the armour like a potato in tin foil.
With as much care and speed that would coexist together, Falconer made it to the window. He gazed out into the clean air. The drop to the city sidewalk must've been ... he didn't want to think about it. It was high. Robert considered allowing the suit to calculate the exact distance, but precise details wouldn't help his confidence any. He queried the database about the armour's remaining functionality.
Information abruptly flooded his mind. It was still a strange experience. There wasn't a voice in his head or a visual cue; the data that he requested was just simply ... there, in his mind, as if he knew it all along.
Suit integrity compromised. Airtight seal disabled. Long range scanning disabled. Short range scanning disabled. Energy cannons unresponsive. Communications disabled.
"Shit!" Robert cursed, noticing for the first time a huge crack in his green visor. "Argh! Well, what does work? How about the propulsion system?"
A moment passed. Falconer wearily glared at the approaching wall of flame. The entire skyscraper shuddered. Girders were bending. Glass was shattering. Combustible materials within the office were exploding in a haunting fanfare, singing an ode to the building's death.
"Hurry up you damn piece of tin!"
Propulsion system critically damaged.
Another spine chilling explosion sounded. The ceiling brusquely collapsed. The skyscraper was about to collapse at any second. "More information, dammit! Can I fly?!"
Propulsion system activation not recommended. Energy Combustion and Redirection module critically damaged. Activation could cause semi-nuclear explosion.
Robert's blood ran cold. The heat of the unrelenting fire seeped through the cracks of the suit's wounds. A hideous shriek of snapping metal nearly deafened him. If he didn't know better, it sounded like the skyscraper was wailing in pain, trying to warn anyone around about its imminent destruction. Falconer knew there were seconds left to make a decision.
He looked down. He was situated on no lower than the twentieth floor. Jumping meant painting the sidewalk with his internal organs. Yet attempting to fly away could cause not only his own death but the hundreds still left. If his energy leaked while being converted into the thrust required for flight, there was no doubt that Ja City would be no more. Die for certain, or risk his life and the remaining populace of the burning metropolis?
Wait! The Mimic function! It stored the ability from Vad! Maybe he could repair the suit with the metal obtained from the sinking skyscraper!
The armour preempted him just as he went to activate it. Mimic function disabled. Database offline.
"No!" Robert protested passionately. "No! It can't be offline! Son of a bitch!"
A cacophonous, resonating boom spirited Robert into action. Without thinking anymore, he jumped.
A indiscriminate column of fire burst through the window as he fell. The entire floor buckled and caved in to the demands of the inferno. The skyscraper was collapsing.
Right on top of Prototype.
Robert screamed. The last time he experienced freefall had not hardened him up for enduring it once again. At least Vad had been there to collect him and his constituent armour segments. This time, there was no one. The scorched pavement came rushing up to him as if it were a long distant loved one running to embrace him.
He spun about in the air. The entirety of the skyscraper was toppling over and somehow managed to direct itself above Falconer. He could see, without the magnification zoom of the visor, burly chunks of metal and fans of jagged glass raining down towards him. Not only was he going to die, but his body would be unmistakably buried beneath the smouldering rubble.
All of the sudden, something changed in Robert. He stopped fearing. There was no way he was about to let himself die when there was a way out. Screw everyone else! He earned his right to live. There was a chance, and he was going to take it. In the face of his demise, nothing else mattered.
Giving what he hoped wasn't his last command to the suit, Prototype ignited the thruster on his back. Immediately there felt like something was off. There was a greater vibration in his back, and the control he normally wielded over the path of his flight was rough and unresponsive. Not to mention the fact that he had increased his speed to his death.
Robert pulled back, demanding the suit level itself with the ground. It wasn't listening. Still he plunged, headfirst, towards the disused road. He felt a white hot rage couple with desperation. Nothing was stopping him now!
"Suit! Pull up now!" he shouted emphatically. Gradually, in small portions, he felt the thruster complying, redistributing the propulsion in such a manner that would comply with his commands. Yet, from basic calculations and his frazzled state of mind, he could see it wasn't enough.
"More power to the thruster!"
There is an eighty-n-
"I don't care about the explosion! Do it now!"
A great expulsion of energy left his back cavity in a torrent of fire, and in a violent motion, the suit broke out of its nosedive and sailed parallel with the city ground. The skyscraper heaved and crumpled upon the ground.
Robert was safe, except now the propulsion system wasn't taking notice of his directions. He ordered it to cool off, to lessen the amount of energy poured into it to burn, but the directive wasn't reaching the appropriate subsystem.
Propulsion system failing.
The flames came out in sporadic spurts. Falconer's trajectory was greatly compromised.
Internal module failing. Explosion imminent.
"No!" The ground was still too far away. Dropping immediately downwards would still spell death, but if he didn't disengage the propulsion system, an untold dome of destruction would engulf the remaining survivors of Ja City.
He did what he could. He had to let go.
"Disengage chest module!"
The chest of the suit abruptly disconnected and fell away. What connections that sutured the limbs and helmet as one ended. The neural synchronisation shut down, leaving Robert in four heavy limb casings and a sturdy helmet. He hoped that would be enough to survive.
As a last order before disconnection, Falconer commanded the propulsion system to fly as high as possible. As soon as Robert was separate from the chest module, it shot up at a right angle into the sky. He wanted to see if the jet pack would distance itself safely from Ja City, but the greedy pull of gravity focused his mind to more important matters.
The weight of the arm, leg and head modules dragged him faster towards the earth. Small houses and businesses rushed beneath him, growing larger as he fell. Robert guessed his landing; a large brick factory that rushed up to meet him. Balling his limbs into his chest, he clenched his eyes, grit his teeth, and prayed.
Robert smashed into the brick wall, and everything went black.
Resolution - Sigfried Hunin - 02-26-2011
Sigfried found himself atop a peak, overlooking the ravaged cityscape. Several massive troops transports stood in neat lines in an open field a few hundred meters away as rag-tag soldiers filed into them. A green flag fluttered triumphantly over each, the crow and snake still locked in eternal conflict. These men had fought hard to show the face of the new revolution. They were on this alien world not because they cared about Namek, no they had their chance to leave for that reason the first time. They were here to bring home Earthlings and blight those oppressors back home.
“Resistance to Tyrants Is Obedience to Kai,” that’s what their banner said. The tyranny of a system that didn’t work. The tyranny of the homeless, jobless, the tyranny of not having a place in the world. The repression that came from too many cogs that didn’t fit, spinning endlessly to no end. That is what Sigfried wanted to stop.
Maybe he had created a world where that was possible. Even if he had though, it was time to start living to his own standards. It was time to let the truth bleed out and trickle down into the crevices of his life and his organization so that they might be led with inspiration of Truth.
His weary eyes found the bubblegum pink hair of Victoria in the verdant teal fields of swaying grass. She walked alone, as she so regularly did. Her arms were wrapped around her chest, like she was receiving a hug from the only person that was truly willing to give her one.
A blackbird fluttered it’s wings and landed behind the brightly colored young Hunter, cawing loudly. As she turned, she saw Sigfried standing behind. “Victoria…” His face tugged weakly at the corners of his lips, a weak attempt at a smile. He stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I am so glad you came with us.” His eyes wandered from the floor to her face and up at that clear sky. “It really was an adventure, right?”
She smirked gently and nodded. “You could say that, yeah.” She let out a long sigh and cast her glance through the soil at her feet. “Roy, and now… now Jarka? I just-“
“About Roy, Victoria.” Their gazes found each other and the boy couldn’t help but feel small in her presence.
“What about Roy?” Say said it as though the statement was an assault, protective of her memory of the man already.
He scratched the back of his head as he often did, and tugged at the corners of the bright red hoodie, it’s golden edges darkened by the soot of the battlefield. “Roy… well, he isn’t who you thought he was.”
She crossed her arms and furrowed her eyes brows, angrily looking down to the boy. “What do you mean?”
He threw his hands forward and began to pace in a short line in front of the woman, expressively dictating the explanation. “Roy, well, he’s a person right?” He looked over briefly to the woman as he went through the motions. “But he wasn’t like, a whole person. He was like, a splinter.” He stopped his insane, nervous skittering to look her in the face once more. “A fragment of a greater consciousness.”
“What are you talking about?” Victoria’s patience was dwindling with the topic.
“I made Roy Vic. He’s a part of me.” Sigfried put it as plainly as he could think how. “I… I can take parts of my mind and they split off from me into somebody else. A separate consciousness that can operate on its own, but still linked to me.”
Victoria’s eyes grew wide and she took a step backwards as her arms uncrossed. “No. I don’t believe you.” That terror of the world you knew crumbling around you, it flooded from her eyes. He could see the world warping around in her little head, the weight of reality pressing down upon her. After a few moments of silence, her shoulders dropped, her mouth open slightly in shock.
“Sorry Vic, I just… I really just don’t know what to say.”
A gentle breeze crossed them and the woman’s eyes turned to burning hot coals that flash seared his soul. She looked so injured, so betrayed. “How could you?” Her eyes filled up slightly, taking a step away from who she now must have considered a monster. “Just… How could you?”
“It was never meant to be this way, Victoria.” He stared up into the sky and let the wind move through him, a strange sense of peace coming from the moment of self absolution. “Thinks were never suppose to be so, I don’t know, messy. I knew there would be risks and deaths and hardships. Mothers without sons, children without parents, death. I accepted that, you know? For the better good of the world, I accepted that.” He exhaled slowly and turned his attention to the men and women he had brought here. “But now that I’m here and I can see it? I don’t know if it was worth it. Who can ever know?”
Victoria stood in silence, a look of disappointment that dug so deep it could scarcely be reclaimed. Sigfried didn’t think that she could find the words, but maybe it was that there were none to find. Maybe some people didn’t have anything to add, nothing to blather on about endlessly. They were there, and they were the masters of their own world, and that was all they needed. He admired that.
Sigfried barely noticed her leaving, walking away into the shattered ruins of Ja, his attention turned to the sky, the dreamer dreaming alone once again.
Resolution - John Doe - 03-03-2011
"I'm sorry. Could you repeat that? Over."
"I said I'm sending them back, dumbass! I don't want these guys anymore. Over."
"Understood. What are your demands? Over."
"Got some wine? Or a big ol' juicy steak? We seem to be out of good meat over here, ha ha. Over."
"You're trading our soldiers over a steak dinner!? Over."
"Hey! They've been MY men for over four hours. I'd rather say that I'm sending over the fuckups I don't want. Over.
"So if you send our men over, we'll send over a deluxe steak dinner over to you. Over."
"Don't worry, I'll be sure to send them over. Over."
"Understood. Which base are you sending them over to? Over."
"How the fuck should I know? I'll just tell them to pick a dome and start walking over there. I'm sure that will work over well. Over."
"Very well... This next statement is off the record, but you know you won't get away with this, right? Over."
"Oh, I'm sorry, but I think I will. I'm on a roll, after all. And right now, I think this conversation is over."
"I didn't catch that last part. You were cut off. Hello? Over."
***
It had only been a few hours since Doe's plan was carried out. All over Mercy, invaders disguised as militiamen entered every base on Mercy at once. In a single, coordinated effort, Every military base on the planet was under attack. Radio messages echoed around the room. Cries of confusion, shouts for support, and howls of terror filled the airwaves, terminating with silence. Nothing was left but soft static.
Doe sunk back in his swank swivel chair, arms folded behind his head and legs crossed on top of a bare counter. Across the room, several yellow-clothed invaders monitored monitors, monitoring the situation unfolding around them. They conversed between themselves in a language the shade-wearing turncoat couldn't hope to understand. Hovering behind these soldiers was the armored invader commander, coolly taking note of the information being spoken. Fine leather footwear left their perch on the head of the desk. Doe leaned in to his new allies, taking out a small plastic case labeled "Fat Lady" with black ink. "Hurrah hurrah! Complete annihilation, right?"
The armored invader, who Doe mentally decided to call Bob, cranked his head back to the collaborator. Bob lifted his armband and spoke into it. "Correct. Our forces have just sieged the final colony. The planet Mercy has fallen."
"Told ya it would work!" Doe opened his container and pulled out a handful of cigarettes, tossing the plastic box to the floor. Flicking his thumb sent one cig into his open chops, lighting as soon as it touched his lips. He pulled himself out of the chair and walked over to the crowd of yellow robed invaders. Doe extended his offer with his hand. "You guys want one?"
The armored Bob carefully picked a cig from the small pile and examined it carefully. The invader commander brought the translator up to his mouth. "What of your subordinates?"
"My men? I'll show you what I think of my men!" The suited man scanned the room until he saw a single militia standing in the corner. "Private Wood, salute!" The soldier flashed his longest digit in the air for his commander, standing at full attention. Doe gave the trooper a thumbs up as he reached into his pocket, pulled out his pistol, and shot Private Wood in the head. The soldier fell backwards without a sound, save a hushed crash, laying in a heap on the floor. "Atta boy!" He buried the weapon back into his overcoat, spinning around to face Bob. "I told ya, I don't give a damn about these guys. The only one that matters is me!"
Bob brought the cigarette he clutched to his mouth, mimicking Doe's movements. As the cigarette reached his mouth(?), the shady suit-wearing man touched the end of the butt. Embers appeared at the end, filling the invader's orifice with Nicotine-enriched smoky goodness. Bob made wheezes and hacks, the invaders surrounding him on all sides in response. Doe spat out low sniggers and grey haze, smacking Bob a few times in the back. "So, when do I get my cut?"
***
"Sir, I've gotten word from Mercy." The middle-aged messenger ducked his head from a large, ivory door.
"Yeah? Out with it!" A giant mahogany desk, shined to perfection, sheltered the seated old man. Both the messenger and the old man were highly decorated, dressed in select suits and eagle ties.
The messenger walked in, sliding into a leather chair in front of the engraved wooden desk. He inhaled and closed his eyes as he leaned in, hands grasping each other and covering his mouth. After a brief calm, the messenger spoke. "Mercy's gone sir, it's been conquered."
"Jesus fucking Christ!" The old man threw his hands up and blankly stared at his desk, pacing his balding head back and forth. He kept his mouth agape and brought his hand to caress his forehead. "Well, as long as the those invader bastards don't try anything else, we'll let this one slide. We'll deal with them once the time comes."
"Yes sir."
The old man and the messenger gazed off into space and thought to themselves. There wasn't much else they could do. "What did we learn, Johnson?"
"I don't know, sir."
"I don't fucking know either."