03-06-2009, 04:41 AM
‘Odd,’ Oliver had thought to himself as Rod Hardwood was taken away from the travelling party. That ruled out the possibility of their deceased bodies were immortal. What happened when the fallen fell again? Perhaps dying out here was cyclic; a never-ending game that would be relived, over and over and over; until it was conquered. It didn’t seem like too much of a stretch, considering the nature of this “Friend or Foe”. If it was an exemplar of the devil’s intentions, these monsters were but the beginning of their troubles. ‘And even if we make it out...’ But Oliver cut off his internal dialogue, unwilling to succumb to hopelessness. Even if he had to smash through the gates with his bare fists, he would escape this place.
Despite his critical thinking, Oliver gave most—if not all—of his attention to the task at hand, which started with keeping the group alive. "Run," Wizard whispered, "Turn and start moving, NOW!" The others unanimously agreed, even if the decision was unspoken. Together, they darted away from the mutated beasts. There was a rock formation up ahead and it was their chance to get some cover, so he continued to bark orders to keep the group on the move. “Fight or die, just how I like it.” It was now survival of the fittest. But one could only expect so much from this Brady Bunch. Tempo was the first to slip, leaping into the death pits for a god damned toy. It could have been the end of him—hell, it should have been—but Juno had been his saving grace. Narrowly, they had avoided a quick death, but the sandtrap would not spare them again. Oliver made a mental note to ream out the musically-inclined Neanderthal, but now was not the time or place.
Sand splashed about each step and they found themselves at a disadvantage. “How can we beat them in their element?” cried Sophia, as if anyone had the right answer. It just so happened that the Wizard did. “Easy,” he grunted, speaking between evasive maneuvers, “We make it our own!” After this was said, the pointed barb of a scorpion’s tail came soaring over the young Sage. Thankfully, she ducked, sparing herself decapitation. All the while, Oliver moved in behind her.
Not quite finished, the arachnid propelled itself at the cryokinetic hybrid and this time Juno pulled out of the way completely. For a second, the hard-shelled critter had caught some airtime right before, “Eat this, demon!” and a—Crack!—uppercut, that struck below the prosoma. A stream of blood from the shattered skull arced toward the girl, painting her attire a deep purple. She gazed at the beast, horrified, as it was launched onto its back by the elderly man. It twitched before shriveling into a ball. Oliver stepped back, cracking a grin.
Unfortunately, the prisoner didn’t have time to boast his one-punch victory, and the next threat jumped into his peripherals. “Son of a b—!” Oliver’s explicit-deleted was cut short when his new demon, three times larger than the last, literally gored him. His back arced as the distorted carnivore speared him across the sands, taking him at least thirty feet away from the main skirmish. Immediately, Oliver noticed that this one was different. It had mutated above and beyond the norms of the species, sporting four vices instead of two. ‘Just my luck,’ he thought.
The claw quartet closed in around him to hold him still, while the segmented tail whipped forward. Oliver may have been old but he wasn’t about to have his head popped like a water balloon. With milliseconds to spare, both his neck and torso shifted, and the poisonous dagger missed its mark. Taking hold of opportunity, the Wizard slammed his head down onto the scorpion’s own, despite the exoskeleton’s superior defenses. Despite splitting his own forehead Oliver had without a doubt dazzled the beast and its grip loosened.
Slipping from its grasp, he planted a sharp knee in its belly. The demon crashed into the sand at a distance but quickly regained its composure. Leering at the Wizard hungrily, it snapped its claws.
“They get creepy crawlers and I get the Scorpion King. Gotta love this place…”
The relic of a man spat at the sight of the dire arachnid. Oliver had grown to despise such creatures and he had his college roommate to thank for that. Ian Fisher had an affinity for smaller life forms and these vermin were no exception. One might identify him as a collector and his co-existence with Oliver ended the day he brought his hordes into their flat. But from his time with Fisher, the Wizard had gathered that the scorpion was a vile creature; and in some families, a cannibal.
“If only they would eat each-other,” he wheezed, staring down the unholy predator. “Bring it on, bug-eyes.”
Despite his critical thinking, Oliver gave most—if not all—of his attention to the task at hand, which started with keeping the group alive. "Run," Wizard whispered, "Turn and start moving, NOW!" The others unanimously agreed, even if the decision was unspoken. Together, they darted away from the mutated beasts. There was a rock formation up ahead and it was their chance to get some cover, so he continued to bark orders to keep the group on the move. “Fight or die, just how I like it.” It was now survival of the fittest. But one could only expect so much from this Brady Bunch. Tempo was the first to slip, leaping into the death pits for a god damned toy. It could have been the end of him—hell, it should have been—but Juno had been his saving grace. Narrowly, they had avoided a quick death, but the sandtrap would not spare them again. Oliver made a mental note to ream out the musically-inclined Neanderthal, but now was not the time or place.
Sand splashed about each step and they found themselves at a disadvantage. “How can we beat them in their element?” cried Sophia, as if anyone had the right answer. It just so happened that the Wizard did. “Easy,” he grunted, speaking between evasive maneuvers, “We make it our own!” After this was said, the pointed barb of a scorpion’s tail came soaring over the young Sage. Thankfully, she ducked, sparing herself decapitation. All the while, Oliver moved in behind her.
Not quite finished, the arachnid propelled itself at the cryokinetic hybrid and this time Juno pulled out of the way completely. For a second, the hard-shelled critter had caught some airtime right before, “Eat this, demon!” and a—Crack!—uppercut, that struck below the prosoma. A stream of blood from the shattered skull arced toward the girl, painting her attire a deep purple. She gazed at the beast, horrified, as it was launched onto its back by the elderly man. It twitched before shriveling into a ball. Oliver stepped back, cracking a grin.
Unfortunately, the prisoner didn’t have time to boast his one-punch victory, and the next threat jumped into his peripherals. “Son of a b—!” Oliver’s explicit-deleted was cut short when his new demon, three times larger than the last, literally gored him. His back arced as the distorted carnivore speared him across the sands, taking him at least thirty feet away from the main skirmish. Immediately, Oliver noticed that this one was different. It had mutated above and beyond the norms of the species, sporting four vices instead of two. ‘Just my luck,’ he thought.
The claw quartet closed in around him to hold him still, while the segmented tail whipped forward. Oliver may have been old but he wasn’t about to have his head popped like a water balloon. With milliseconds to spare, both his neck and torso shifted, and the poisonous dagger missed its mark. Taking hold of opportunity, the Wizard slammed his head down onto the scorpion’s own, despite the exoskeleton’s superior defenses. Despite splitting his own forehead Oliver had without a doubt dazzled the beast and its grip loosened.
Slipping from its grasp, he planted a sharp knee in its belly. The demon crashed into the sand at a distance but quickly regained its composure. Leering at the Wizard hungrily, it snapped its claws.
“They get creepy crawlers and I get the Scorpion King. Gotta love this place…”
The relic of a man spat at the sight of the dire arachnid. Oliver had grown to despise such creatures and he had his college roommate to thank for that. Ian Fisher had an affinity for smaller life forms and these vermin were no exception. One might identify him as a collector and his co-existence with Oliver ended the day he brought his hordes into their flat. But from his time with Fisher, the Wizard had gathered that the scorpion was a vile creature; and in some families, a cannibal.
“If only they would eat each-other,” he wheezed, staring down the unholy predator. “Bring it on, bug-eyes.”