ataraxionlogs | EVENT: DUPRR ▒ THE SECONDARY SHUTTLE BAY

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EVENT: DUPRR ▒ THE SECONDARY SHUTTLE BAY

CHARACTERS: Ensemble production!
LOCATION: The secondary shuttle bay
WARNINGS: Violence, injury, graphic imagery, death etc.
SUMMARY: Discovery of the secondary shuttle bay and rescue ~~or not~~ of the DUPRR NPCs inside.
NOTES: March 30 onwards.

The doors are torn open as you arrive, metal ripped back like the skin of a fruit. Improvised barricades of tools and carts, shuttle pieces stand as obstacles to be carefully climbed through before you can stand in the shuttle bay itself. The space is vast, flashlight beams penetrating only a certain distance into the dark, but enough to sweep the floor, find the scattered, gored remains of at least three human bodies.

The ship stands as the only complete vessel in sight - or, at least, it was. Windows smashed, the hull torn at, access doors ripped open. The inside empty.

The shuttle bay is silent. But is that the silence of a catastrophe already passed, or of someone hiding, holding their breath?

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Silence greets their call, any sound suffocated by the darkness.

Then, there's a rustling sound. Something moving just behind the storage containers, waiting for them to draw closer. Enough waiting offers them the vision of a large, gray wolf plodding out carefully from around the storage containers, snout smeared with blood. Viscera and flesh hang loosely from its open jaws, and its lips curl back as it lets out a rumbling growl that threatens them off decisively.

"Oh-- bloody-- lovely," William says, staring at the wolf. He's wound up slightly hunched at the shoulders, gripping his medkit, as if genuinely thinking about whacking the beast over the head if it decides to come over. So automatic, instinctive is his fear, that it takes his otherwise reasonably powerful brain a few gawking seconds to catch up, before his eyes suddenly narrow from around Rey's shoulder.

"It-- um."

A beat.

His brows knit harder and he glances up at Rey. He drops his voice into a whisper: "The other monsters didn't pay us any fucking attention, innit?" This of course does not mean he's about to venture around/in front of the woman to have a meet-and-greet one-on-one. To his logic, if it's a person, if it's sentient, if it's something different than the monsters before, then ... Rey will beat them up ??

Yes, William. Rey will beat them up, if she has to.

Upon seeing the wolf, she holds out her arm, instinctively keeping William behind her in that I-am-somewhat-armed-and-also-a-meat-shield sort of way. Her eyes lock with the bloodied beast, but she nods at William's query.

"Long as you don't engage them first, they didn't." Rey knows this after a couple scuffles. Nothing she couldn't handle.

But if this is some sort of special case, and this beast isn't like the others, then... suppose she'll have to get ready to punch a wolf. How many people can say that with a straight face?

The beast pads around, assessing them. Its large, gold eyes never blink, but it does eventually settle down to gnaw at the arm rather than pay them mind, curling up beside the fallen cargo containers as if playing gatekeeper to something that lies beyond to their left. Dim lights interrupt the stretch of darkness, but none of them large or bright enough to show anything distinguishable but more metal features of the shuttle bay itself.

William looks at Rey. More specifically, he hazards a look at the back of Rey's head while she keeps her attention forward, before squinting back at the wolf, and the stretch of bloody concrete that it guards. His mouth thins into a grim line. "Maybe it'll fucking ignore us then," he suggests, timidly. It looks too much at home in this chaos to be DUPRR, and DUPRR seems to have a tendency toward wormhole tech and bright lights rather than, um, shape-changing wolf madness. What kind of person changes into a wolf anyway. That's something out of a fairy book.

(Shh.) "Here," he says suddenly, his voice a little firmer. He turns to her, and puts his arms out. She feels his hands around her waist, like inviting her to dance-- except that he's not. Instead, she feels a ripple of movement behind her, and suddenly armor is snaking over her skin. Ballistic panels and shock-absorbing microfibers, articulated spine, sturdy mesh, shin-guards, and a protective collar. Suddenly, William isn't there at all anymore, but Rey is clad in black military-style protective gear, all the way down to to the cuffs of her shoes.

The medkit, and everything else William was carrying, gets sucked into the strange compression of shape-shifting space and form with him.

Rey watches the wolf intently as it settles down. Whether it was satisfied with its fleshy prize or consciously allowing them to pass like everything else has thus far, she isn't certain. But hey, why the hell look a gift horse in the mouth now?

She glances over her shoulder to William, her mouth opening to tell him to keep up with her. Her jaw clamps shut when he disappears, and instead feels the armor winding over her clothes and unprotected skin.

Not that she doesn't appreciate the extra protection, it certainly caught her off guard. "Warn next time you do something like that," she mutters, unsure whether William can hear her or even reply. (Come to think of it, she'd rather he didn't. That would be creepy.)

Turning her head back to the wolf, and then to the left-most route, she reaches to pick up her assault rifle strapped over her shoulder and proceeds into the dim-lit shadows.

They proceed through the shadows for some time. Dim light helps them avoid small obstacles—wayward tools, odd shuttle parts, and cargo crates are all scattered by the struggle. Some fallen monsters litter the shuttle bay, and some streaks of blood on the floor and walls where they look are unidentifiable.

After they continue like this for a while, the echo of far-off shouts begins from the back corner, behind a grounded shuttle. The shouts are accompanied by thudding and clanging sounds of battle.

Fortunately for Rey, William doesn't reply. Instead, he behaves as any armor should: silent, flexible, reassuringly protective as she makes her way through the cold, wide space of the bay. Unmolested by were/wolves, wonderfully.

He can hear her. But she doesn't need to know that.

William is channeling a low but steady rate of psychic healing into her body as well. Of course, it's doubtful Rey will notice as long as they remain unharmed, but as the sounds of violence grow... well-- trouble seems more likely by the moment.

She moves carefully in the darkness, but at a steadier stride than before when Rey was escorting William beside her. The armor proves to be less hindering, in any case. She notes the blood, the disarray of the place, and silently hoping to herself that they didn't arrive too late and hadn't come all this way for nothing. Because what a waste that would be.

Then she hears the noise. The nearby scuffle. Rey, picking up her pace, seizes the rifle in a ready grip as she hurries towards the shuttle. She doesn't shout to summon the unwanted attention of whatever is fighting just yet.

As they advance around the shuttle craft, they come upon the sight of the shuttle door being steadily rent from the craft. A large gap has been made by an enormous, twisted black creature with spindly limbs and an elongated forehead. Its claws dig into the metal door and it lets out a horrible shrieking sound, practically crowing into the space its made. Just through the open space, the bearded face of a crew member is visible. He's calling orders to someone in a gruff voice, though it's impossible to see just how many might be in there with him.

Her instincts aren't to call out or run, but immediately to fight. With a fluid gait Rey approaches the shuttle exterior, no hesitation. Raising the firearm, she squeezes a few well-aimed automatic shots. While most of the things she'd encountered thus far seemingly ignored her presence, she doubts that it'll disregard a dozen bullets to the back.

"Hey!" Rey shouts, just in case shooting at the damn thing isn't enough to bid its attention.

For a moment, she distracts the creature, which cranes its eyeless head. Heavy breathing gives the indication that it may well be sniffing her out. Its head faces straight towards her, the smooth eyeless surface of its face unreadable as it somehow seems to stare her down nonetheless.

The sounds inside the shuttle quiet as they seem to think for a moment that they're safe.

But then, the gnarled alien creature rips the shuttle door open the rest of the way, rending it from the rest of the craft, and dropping it open. The hinges squeal, and yells sound from inside.

At first, she's certain she has its attention, and steels herself for the creature to make a complete turnaround. She fires off a few more shots until it's time to change the magazine. Which she starts to, reaching around for the ammo--

"Shit."

The damned thing rips the door clean off.

Dropping the emptied assault rifle, Rey propels herself towards the creature.

"Need something sharp, William!" Since it's not like she use her own firepower without burning him up, anyway.

William is generally a fan of not burning. Also of not failing. Occasionally, these two aversions converge into a single brilliant course of action.

Rey leaps into the air, agile and swift-footed, but small compared to the beast looming ahead. Even as her shadow is encroaching on the incline of the creature's massive side, her armor is peeling away from her, unraveling, whirling off her narrow waist and shoulders, retreating toward her hand, warping, changing shape.

A heavy spear stretches across her palm, settling its heavy weight directly into the momentum of her leap. It's not like most weapons you'll ever see, multiple razor ridges running up from the point, more of a harpoon than a blade ever designed for use against man.

It whistles through the air, deft in her grip.

Edited ( wording) 2015-04-09 03:06 (UTC)

Good enough, she thinks. Her feet hurling the rest of her towards an unrestrained attack, the armor twists and transmutes the weapon in her left hand.

Throwing the spear up over her head, taking it in both hands now, Rey hurls her weight through the air. Sending it down with all the force of her strength and mass needed to drive the blade through the creature's tar-black form.

Some of the bullets dig into the hard outer shell on the creature's pitch black body, but some of them dig through it, piercing just enough to get it angry. It lets out a follow-up yowl, descending towards Rey now that she's made herself a threat. It lunges for her, giving her the opening she needs to ram the spear straight through its narrow abdomen.

Another horrible shriek follows and its spindly arms claw for her, raking claws across her skin as it struggles against the weapon. Death comes to it slowly, and it tries with its final grip on life to reach out for the shuttle.

Through the open door, the awed and disturbed expressions of two men are visible as they lean against the opposite wall of the craft's interior.

After the spear sinks through, Rey is clutching onto it like her life depends on it. But mostly it's for William's sake, and also to ensure that the creature doesn't try and shake her off in its attempt to get into shuttle.

She twists the blade deeper, impaling through the other side of its body, and rotates the spear to make its death quicker.

It'll suffer, but not for long as she uses the remainder of her untapped vigor to yank the creature away from the men in its final throes.

The liquid that spills forth from it cannot truly be called blood. It's green and unevenly drippy or runny when it springs forth, spraying over Rey as she yanks the beast back towards her, in turn shaking it loose on the shaft of her spear. When the fluid touches her skin, it begins to bubble. Harmless but warm at first, then sharp and agonizing: acid.

But for her efforts, the black, misshapen monstrosity curls in on itself, fibrous hole of a mouth stretching wide as it releases a shrieking death rattle that dwindled as it slumps over, limp and lifeless.

For a moment, the two men crouched in the shuttle don't budge, distrusting that it might truly be dead.

Rey is hardly a stranger to pain, and has felt various kinds from simple scratches to fatal injuries that actually killed her. It's almost worse that this doesn't. The searing shock of the blood spurting from the open wound of the creature doesn't register at first. Not until she finds it bubbly pockmarks in her arms, and burning holes in her tanktop to sear into her abdomen.

Instinctively, she withdraws. Her boot over the creature's corpse and the other foot grounded, she composes her nerves just enough to kick both herself off and release the spear from the gaping flesh. It slips from her fingertips and clatters across the floor.

She staggers away from the shuttle, panting as the pain deepens and she starts clawing at the fluid stinging her skin.

Fire she can handle. Acid, apparently, is another matter.

"Will--" Rey gasps, unable to finish the second syllable within the same sharp inhale.

And like that, the pike undoes itself. Splits apart like splintering, into great black jagged shards of metal that then flex as if they are as supple as silk, the shape of him shaking out in a blur, falling out of her hand, shrinking, shrinking, hitting the floor with a tak.

For a long, oddly anticlimactic moment, William is a glass marble: teeny tiny cat's-eye.

He rolls a short distance, spins, leaving the thinnest streak of acid on the floor behind him. The worst of it sloughed off behind.

The next instant, he rattles out big ('big') and human again. Almost mid-change, he's reaching for his backpack, dropping his shoulder. Just like his sweater and trousers and boots, his supplies were undisturbed by the medley of transformations. There's an ugly spot on his collar, dangerously close to his neck, where there seems like the residual acid might be eating through-- but he doesn't pay it any mind just yet. Time's precious, and she's got less of it than he does.

He's assessing her burn as he moves. Ticking fast as he can through burn types in his head, his face very motionless, lips moving slightly as he names them off under his breath. The likelihood it's something that'll react wrong with water seems low, so in a moment, he has a water bottle out, a second by his feet. Uncapping the little plastic container, he's emptying it over her skin without asking or even telling her to stand still-- she knows how it is. He holds it high up her arm so it runs down, covers as much of her burning skin with the flow as he can. There isn't enough water to irrigate for as long as they should, and he only has so many hands. speaking of.

"Oi!" William snaps at the two losers hiding in the shorn-open compartment. For a moment-- for a moment, he's completely distracted [from murder] by the task at hand. "DUPRR cunts, get the fuck out of there and help! Have you got any water?" He twists his head to look just for a moment, before looking back to his companion.

A snap look of annoyance comes out of the older of the two. He looks to be fifty, maybe sixty, but he wears the critical eye of someone a great deal older. Pushing to his feet with ease, covered in black grease, he claps the shoulder of his younger companion and points out towards William and Rey. The younger team member grabs his canteen as he scampers forward, heading straight for them and crouching beside William.

He hands the canteen over and cautiously questions, "Are you sure it's dead?" Traitorous eyes flicker anxiously back to the tangled mess of sinewy black limbs as his superior comes out from behind him, a pack slung over his back.

"'Course they aren't." He growls, "They don't know any better than we do: you've read the reports."

Edited 2015-04-16 22:12 (UTC)

It doesn't take long, or even much effort, for Rey to compartmentalize the pain as William starts neutralizing the acid burn with water. Her enhanced epidermis seems to provide a little more protection than a normal human's, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt like a bitch.

She bites down, shooting the younger man a narrowed look whilst ignoring the snide comment of his elder. "Of course it's dead," she says through gritted teeth. She's still holding her arms out for William to tend to. "And if it isn't, will just kill it some more."

The way she talks, it's like she's ordering from a menu. No big deal.

When the next bottle is spent, part on the woman's arm and then a little on her side, William casts it aside. The emptied container goes thunk! thunk thunk along, rolls away. Hands empty, William moves instead to grasp her hand again, his fingers dry and warm on the slippery chill of her hand.

She feels the rush instantly. His power urging the blood to scab, the minute cells of her skin to knit, the layers to mount over layers. There's not so very much he can do in as little time as they have-- before the damn monsters might come again. But enough that he can stop the damage, take away the worst of the pain. It's a protracted minute or two before he lets go, looking slightly wearier for it.

It's taken some of the mania out of his eyes when he twists his head back, looks at the two interlopers. Some of it.

The younger team member, wiry and wide-eyed, hovers near William, watching him work with a small degree of awe, trying to figure out how he'd created the effect of healing. As soon as Rey looks in fighting shape again, though, the old, greasy engineer jumps in brusquely.

"Well? Let's get the hell out of here," he demands. "How far to where your people are based on board?"

Whatever sort of crazed flash caught in William's look there was, Rey feels it as well. All this time she's felt it, but hasn't allowed it to register until just now when it's screaming in her head. She swallows, biting the inside of her cheek and sensing William's energy flow from him to her.

It's a dangerous sudden strength, she's decided.

About three days, she starts to answer the older man. But the words don't make it past her lips.

"Not too far," is what she says instead. Rey casts a brief, careful glance at William, before turning to retrieve her fallen rifle. It's on the way out, anyway. "It's just a bit of a trek with the infestation. Will take you there."

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SORRY FOR SO MAny moves, if im godmoding just poke me in pp

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