Lightning cracked the bloodred sky, thunder rolled across the twisting alleys.
Screaming-Eagle drove the noise from her mind with a harrumph. Loud, disquieting, intimidating, yes, but she didn't give a shit about it at the moment. So far as she was concerned, there were no churning clouds above, no fog-choked streets below – only the walkways and rooftops she had to cross on her way back to the fountain. She had wasted enough time aimlessly wandering around that shithole, no more setbacks now. The crew was gathered, her magic returned, her patience evaporated. The vein by her right horn had been pulsing with raging eagerness ever since she had made Dean Domino cry like a little bitch. How far were they from the fountain? No idea, even the map was too vague in that regard. Why couldn't anyone simply keep close to the place, just to make it all easier? Fuck knew why. Three different zones for three people... fuck's sake, really.
Cloud and strain scorched her every breath, the muscles in her legs burned, spikes stabbed the soles of her feet with each step she took – she didn't care. Rest wasn't an option. She had grown too accustomed to fatigue to heed her nerves. She wanted to be done with the Sierra Madre by the end of the day and by the Gods, she was going to be, end of story. No waiting, no sitting, no napping, no collapsing. Not permitted, not on her watch. She was going to rest either in her grave, or back in the Mojave desert, not here. Here she could walk, and run when possible.
Her 'team' was making good speed along the high ways and shortcuts set up by the ghoul in the years past. In but a few minutes they had left his damned home behind, now a tiny cluster of lights on the horizon at their backs that she was too busy to actually look at. She didn't trust him in the slightest – mainly because any attempt to escape would have taken precious seconds to thwart. Yet it wasn't like they could experiment every possible path until they found the right one. So the singer had been allowed to walk in front of her, ready to be pinned down by her magic and brought back to reason by the mute's shotgun and the mutant's bulk. Her eyes never left the tattered tuxedo covering his gangrenous back, not for an instant. They had to get back to that delirious old man as soon as they could, and she wasn't about to let a shitty Pre-War singer delay her any further because he might find an opening to run.
"Wait a minute..." The ghoul asked, drawing to a halt. He quivered with unease. "Did you hear that? I think..."
Of course, now he was having second thoughts... was he really trying to escape them with a stupid trick like that? She grabbed him with her free hand and spun him around, snarling into the frightened mask that was his face and raising her fist, ready to strike. "The only thing I'll hear is the sound of your bones shattering if you don't keep moving!"
She was certain he would have squeaked something in his defense, or mewled an insincere apology, but the guttural growl she received as a reply was much more eloquent than any word he may have spoken.
Screaming-Eagle sucked in a deep breath and let go of Domino's stained gorget. As he fell to the ground and scrambled back behind the other two's bodies for cover (much to the mutant's enjoyment, if his laughter was anything to go by), she rolled her shoulders to loosen the kinks in her neck. She cracked her knuckles and answered with a growl of her own, furious for having an obstacle bar her way, but at the same time glad to have something to tear through. Massacring foes did wonders for stress, so long as she was quick about it.
This particular rooftop was rather large, with plenty of space to outmaneuver the enemy in case the fight proved to be difficult. Hmph, right, difficult. Revenge was at hand, she wasn't going to allow one of those Cloud demons to stand in her path.
The local climbed up the opposite edge of the building with ungraceful, erratic movements, hauling itself upwards and rolling to its feet like a toppled cockroach. This one was... a bit different from the others she had met. It was of slighter build, much shorter and scrawnier than her, and its masked head was covered by a dark brown cowl. It held a spear of some kind in its hands, fashioned from a wooden rod and a single kitchen knife clumsily taped to its tip.
The moment it took aim and raised its weapon as though it were a javelin, she reached for the air in front of herself and clawed her fingers, grabbing nothing. She concentrated on its thin arms, on the joints connecting them to the shoulders, and infused her hatred with a measure of willpower and focus. She twisted and pulled as though she were holding them down, then ripped outwards with a grunt of effort.
The thing's arms came free of their sockets, falling down to its sides in a spurt of ochre blood. The spear followed right away, clattering against the hard tiles for a moment, before the torso of its owner thudded against the rooftop's tiles. It didn't even flinch or squirm a little bit on the ground, it merely flopped and died in silence. Too bad, she'd been hoping for something a little more pleasant... like screams and rolling off the roof in agony, its flesh parting as shattered bones carved through it and- okay, that was graphic, focus. No going insane. Not yet.
Well, that had been satisfying nonetheless. She couldn't suppress a manic grin at the thought of having her magic back, at the sight of what her telekinesis could achieve in seconds. Beautiful, beautiful. It was one thing to use a crude tool, like a shotgun, to end her foe; it was another thing entirely to tear it to pieces with a single thought. No need to waste her time reloading, aiming, pulling the trigger. One gesture to channel her art, and the local's arms had flown right off.
Screaming-Eagle had been ready to chuckle and dust her hands when a chorus of gurgling howls interrupted her. The smirk vanished from her face. Gods-dammit, she wanted to be quick, revel a bit in her newfound power, and this happened. Sure, she had encountered only two of those things before when she had been in absolutely no rush, and now what sounded like a whole fucking pack came a-knocking? On the rooftops, of all places? Ugh, wonderful timing, really.
One by one they emerged from the mist of the streets, ungainly bodies clad in hazmat suits. Some of them carried spears, like the one she had just maimed; other, bulkier ones wore bear traps on their forearms, like the two she had met before. All of them, however, held their glowing green eyes pointed straight at her. A quick glance to her left and right confirmed there were half a dozen of the shambling abominations trying to surround her. Hmm, they had a grasp of tactics, it seemed... commendable, for a bunch of Cloud zombies. Any other time, she may have even been fascinated by this turn of events. Right now, however, they were standing between her and the fountain.
Screaming-Eagle heard Twelve's hands tighten onto her shotgun, bringing it to bear and pumping a shell into the empty receiver. She made her lower her weapon with a scowl over her shoulder. No, these were hers. The time they would be saving by attacking simultaneously would be negligible; the amount of satisfaction she would lose if she didn't slaughter them all by herself, considerable. Drawing strength from her fury, burning bright and hot as a star, she extended her left arm and doused the bastards in searing flames.
Whatever material those suits had been made of, it caught fire at once. The stench of roasting flesh was more than enough to overpower the Cloud's sting, a mixture of rotting corpses, diseased fish, and bubbling sewage carried to her nostrils by the yellowish smoke. She had no time to feel nauseated, only to snort her amusement. The creatures began to stumble, their muscles and bones melting and fusing from the heat. Torrid waves of dry air washed over her as each of the locals fell to its knees, then face-first into the roof, the thuds covered by their ungodly screeches and the crackle of the fire. A few seconds later, none of them moved anymore, the flames eagerly licking and consuming their carcasses.
It felt good to have her magic back.
"You are full of surprises, Argonian." The mutant laughed malignantly, his mouth twisted up in a hideous smile as he patted her shoulder and walked past her. Fire glittered in his single tangerine eye, flecks of orange and sparks intermingling over the yellow, thickly veined sclera. "Yes... so many possibilities..."
"Yeah, let me near the old man, I'm going to show you possibilities..." Screaming-Eagle hummed to herself. She turned around, dismissed Twelve's dismay as completely normal at that point, and glared daggers at the huddling form of Dean Domino. "Now back to the front, Domino, double time it!" She barked, and the ghoul stood up at once. He didn't even protest this time. Good, he was learning. "You don't get me to the fountain in the next five minutes, I'm gonna make you wish I'd burned you alive like these sons of bitches! Move!"
One last turn to the right and the ghoul made his final sprint into a broad open space, overlooked by the ominous form of the Sierra Madre's tower perched high upon a black hill. It was visible from all over the Villa, actually, but here the sensation of impending doom was more... intense, somehow. Maybe it was because of the gate. In the middle of the ruined buildings stood a fountain, guarded by the pale blue ghost of a woman in an elegant evening dress. As Domino bent forwards and rested his hands on his knees, gasping for air and nearly coughing out his diseased lungs, and as the others fanned out around her, Screaming-Eagle couldn't help but glance down at her Pip-Boy in curiosity.
Sheogorath take her... he actually had gotten her to the fountain in less than five minutes. Maybe she wasn't going to kill him as viciously as she had originally planned for what he had dared to do, once this was all over. Maybe. Unlikely.
"Ah... there you are... Vera..." Dean Domino rasped, sketching out a salute to the hologram. "Long time... no see... all good? Eh... can't complain... 'cept I can... but I won't... red one... will get me... if I do..."
Screaming-Eagle cast a furtive look towards Twelve, who was just as puzzled as her. They both rolled their eyes at the same time. The woman put her forefinger to her temple and twirled it around while mouthing the word 'loopy'. Heh. Couldn't argue with that.
"I take comfort in the fact I am not the only one to be insane, showman." The Nightkin jeered at him. "Talking to a guardian and expecting a reply... pathetic."
Domino waved them all off with a grunt. "I was... joking... Strong Man..."
Screaming-Eagle let out a long sigh and shrugged, pushing past the exhausted ghoul and eliciting an indignant huff as he fell flat on his ass. She slammed her palm against the rim of the dry pool, and the coins inside trembled with the blow. It also got her hand to hurt terrifically, but she wasn't going to say anything – wouldn't have looked as tough as she wanted to. "Hey, Old Man! I've got your crew, here they are!" She made a broad motion to encompass the band of misfits at her back, then shoved her aching hand between her thighs to stem the pain. Fuck, it hurt. "I've filled my part of the bargain! Now it's your turn."
A second or two passed before the hologram vanished in thin air. Some mechanism inside the fountain itself whirred, and the small pyramid-shaped projector popped out of the pool's side. In the woman's place appeared a wrinkly, scowling face, covered in a wispy beard and surrounded by a mane of ragged, long hair. Now that her mind was clear from the fear that had grasped her the first time, she noticed he bore a striking resemblance to an old, grumpy, malevolent pug.
"You'd do well to show some respect, lizard... remember your life – all of your lives – hang in the balance." The old man oh-so-kindly reminded her, about as patient and understanding as a Thalmor inquisitor. She hadn't missed his gruff, imposing tone one bit. There was a pause to drive his point across, but then the eagerness took over him. "But yes, I can see... good, well done. Now for the festivities... and your parts in all this."
Screaming-Eagle's right eye began to twitch. He had said absolutely nothing about 'parts', or 'festivities', he had just mentioned a heist involving her and the other collars. Come on, the gate with the golden 'Sierra Madre' sign was like twenty yards away! She had assumed they had to open it in some sort of complicated way that required a lot of people since... it was a huge gate? It had a weird lock? Bah, she wasn't a thief, she had no idea how that kind of things worked.
"The owner of the Sierra Madre... you see, for whatever reason, he keyed the Grand Opening to the Gala Event itself." The bastard continued, now lost in his own speech like she wasn't even there and she wasn't snorting like a bull about to charge. "It needs to be fired off in order for the casino doors to open. As I've discovered, one person can't do it alone."
Her fingers balled into fists, the nails burrowing into her palms. He hadn't said jackshit about any gods-damned Gala Event to be fired off, she was absolutely gods-damn certain of it. Oh, Divines, now he was going to spew out some grand plan of his that required her to trek across the Sierra Madre, right? It fucking sounded so. Hngh, the more he talked, the more she felt like biting his throat off for good. If only he were within her maws' range...
The Pip-Boy on her left forearm beeped the visions and taste of blood away. Her fury held back by curiosity (if only momentarily), she looked down at the screen. It had reverted to a map of the Villa, although now it appeared to be... larger? Yes, it was at least twice as big. The two areas dubbed "Salida del Sol" and "Puesta del Sol" to the Eastern and Western edges hadn't been there the last time.
The four markers sure as fuck hadn't been there, either.
"So bring your team to the positions indicated on your Pip-Boy, then trigger it properly." The old man went on, blissfully ignorant of her bared fangs and her bristling feathers. "You're so close now, don't let me down... otherwise, I'll have to rely on the next team."
"You could have mentioned it earlier." Screaming-Eagle growled through clenched teeth. She rapped her knuckles onto the edge of the fountain, as though it were his open ribcage and she were searching for the most painful way possible to rip out his organs. "You old... hmph." She flicked her wrist, feigning nonchalance. "This Gala, what of it?"
"It's a display of lights, fireworks, music in the streets... a Pre-War festival to mark the casino's opening." He explained to her, his voice bitter with disdain at the thought of... happiness, apparently. He only managed to further infuriate her: she knew what a Gala was, by Akatosh. She had simply wanted to know why it was so important, what the mechanism triggered and how it did it, not the fucking definition of a Gala. "It is of no consequence, really, only firing the event is. Get the three in position, then travel to your post in Salida del Sol and trigger the Gala."
"He's going to... use the Gala Event... to open the casino?" Dean Domino muttered between a rasp and the other, skeptical. "But... that's... hmm, interesting..."
She paid him no mind. In the deadly silence around her, she clearly heard the sound of the proverbial camel's back snapping clean in half.
More.
Gods-damn.
Trekking.
The old man cleared his throat, oblivious to her heavy breathing and the way her fingers clutched at the fountain's rim. "After that, the real work begins."
Screaming-Eagle drew in a deep, calming breath, eyes narrowed to ruby-red slits as she tried to come up with something to say that wouldn't get her killed. "The... real work. Really." She hummed slowly. "Are you telling me what I've been doing up until now was a warm up? Is that what you're insinuating, that getting these three together wasn't real work?"
"I cannot expect you to understand, perhaps you think this is a simple robbery, a... cheap casino heist." The son of a motherfucking whore scoffed. She could almost hear his contemptuous superiority through the comm link. It had nothing to do with what she thought of the job, it had been fucking hard, period. "No, lizard... this is a heist of the centuries. We're not plundering the Sierra Madre – we're plundering history, taking from the Old World itself!" His voice had risen to that megalomaniac dictator note he had been missing up until then. What a surprise. Of course, that probably hit hard on his throat, because he spent the next moments coughing like no tomorrow. In the end, he sniffled, and dismissed the moment with a grunt. "At any rate, it won't let its secrets go easily, not without a fight... I wouldn't expect anything less."
Great, now she had the confirmation she needed: she was officially taking orders from a madman. 'We're plundering history'? Seriously? That was the single most delusional and inflated sentence she had ever heard in her entire life – and she had spent the vast majority of that time in Tamriel. Come on, there had been villains in the history of Nirn less obsessed and out of their mind than this guy. At least the infamous Mannimarco had had the means to achieve his twisted goals, and his big plans usually involved Molag fucking Bal. He'd had no need to rely on an Argonian, a super mutant, a mute woman and a two-centuries-old ghoul to succeed... unlike someone else.
This wasn't the last straw, it was last fucking hay bale. Again, the gate was right there. Was he honestly suggesting they started fireworks and music to open it, attracting the whole local population of abominable, hazmat-suit-wearing, not-properly-living monsters in the meantime? He couldn't be serious, he had to be joking. How hard could it be to find some explosives and take that gate down, then do the same thing with the casino doors themselves? They could be sturdy and blast-proof all they wanted, but not flat out indestructible. Nothing was. And even if they were, how hard could it be to bring down the walls around them and create an opening? There, done, a million times easier than making a group of randomly picked perfect strangers band together and expecting them to work under mortal threat.
Of course, her plan couldn't work in there. Where were they even going to find demolition charges? They had barely found a couple of boxes of shotgun shells in a police station, finding explosives in there was completely impossible. There was no army base nearby, hers were only suppositions at this point. If only they had something as strong as a few bombs...
Screaming-Eagle blinked twice, dumbstruck, and nearly slapped her palm into her face. She didn't need bombs, or demolition charges, much less to go all the way to their 'assigned positions'. Gods-dammit, it was all so... obvious.
"Are you listening, lizard?" The old bastard demanded, displeased with her silence. His... well, not really concern, but whatever approximation of the feeling he was trying to convey didn't last long. "If you are, just remember that the outlying areas of the Villa are far more dangerous, thicker with Ghost People, traps, and toxins. Use your team as I-"
"How long did it take you to come up with this plan, exactly?" She interrupted him, cocking her head in blatantly fake curiosity. It wasn't like he could decipher her expression, she was pretty sure there were no cameras here anyway. "It's fairly elaborate, I'll give you that. So... how long? A few months? A year? Two? Several years?"
He fell silent at the question. His train of thought had been utterly derailed by those simple words. Aside from sporadic coughing, he didn't answer for what might have been a minute. "... Excuse me?"
"I said, 'how long did it take you to come up with this plan', should be a simple question for a genius like you." Screaming-Eagle told him again, forcing the compliment out - it worked better if she saw it as an insult. She folded her arms across her chest, and allowed a smirk to surface. "To find the exact locations and spots, the procedures to follow, how it was all linked together, the right number of team members... a long and meticulous work, for sure." She threw in a snicker for added effect. "Not to mention the failed attempts."
"I... I'm not sure." The old man finally blurted out. He sounded conflicted: on one hand, he probably didn't want her to mock him; on the other, he finally had someone to belittle and sound like a genius to. "The Sierra Madre... time is irrelevant here. There is only the wait, the... time to dwell upon the plan, waiting for a new team to enact it after the last one's failure." He paused for a moment, perhaps realizing he had made his amazing and infallible plan sound flawed. "It would've worked perfectly, if only those idiots had thought of something beside their own greed. So many failures... fools. At any rate, you only need to know it's been a long time, lizard. Why do you ask?"
"Because it sucks." Screaming-Eagle said plainly. At least now she got to be sincere and count the faults in it with her fingers, like Naeera did. Divines, now she understood why the thief liked it so much: it was just so gratifying. "Really, it's awful. You didn't enforce cooperation, you've never looked for alternatives, you gave your subjects no reason to follow it, you never took a moment to ask yourself why you're doing this, you've never asked anyone how to improve it, you-"
"Enough!" The bastard roared, followed by a muffled thud and the clatter of metal. Oh, poor little old fucker had gotten his ego bruised and had banged his fist on the table like the whiny baby he was? Too bad. "One more word, lizard, and I'll be sure to ask the next team for improvements!"
Even though he couldn't see her, she shrugged him off anyway. She couldn't help but laugh out loud at his reaction; the thought of risking her life just to voice empty bravado added to that hilarity. Funny how the brain could work under extreme stress. "No need to do that, I've got a better plan." She lovingly spread her arms, almost inviting that ugly, bearded pug face to hug her. "I came up with it while you were busy monologuing, old man. Five minutes." She held her open hand in front of the huge face, moments away from gloating. "It's gonna take just five minutes. A straight success in five minutes against years of grumbling and failing. How's that for a master plan, huh?"
"Hmph, I see..." The old man grunted after a while, unimpressed. He even chuckled. "You're bluffing. Know it's not going to work, lizard." She could almost visualize him wave her off as he snorted."Now, unless you have any more impossible plans or jokes to waste my time, get moving. I'll be in touch when you've all reached your positions."
The huge face winked out, replaced once more by the woman in the evening dress. This time, however, she was facing the gate of the Sierra Madre. Pfft, real subtle hint.
Screaming-Eagle sighed out loud. She had been hoping to leave him speechless, but that was to be expected, really. Anything his 'great mind' hadn't calculated would only be dismissed as bluffing. Divines forbid someone might actually be better than him. Ah, well, that would just make it funnier to look at his surprised face while she ripped his lungs out through his mouth. Oh, that was nice! Maybe something about popping his eyes while she was at it, or-
A shotgun roared behind her.
She snapped around at the sound, and the first thing she notice was Dean Domino running up to her like a scared little girl. She shoved him away, raising her eyes just in time to see Twelve pump her weapon ready, the barrel pointed straight at the Nightkin's head. He appeared to be... different. More hunched over, all but aching to crawl on all fours, his twisted expression more feverish than usual.
"What is it now, mutant?" Screaming-Eagle demanded as she marched towards him, ready to punch some sense into him. Of all the moments to act weird... yet he didn't turn, oddly enough. He just kept on staring down the barrel of the woman's gun, and... licking his teeth, loudly.
Okay, something was wrong. She filled her lungs to call him once more. "Mutant!"
This time around, he heard her. He shot her a piercing glare with his single eye, pupil wide open, full of hatred and... hunger. She did a double take when she saw the drool trickling down onto his chin. He tilted his head like a wild beast, and frowned back. "Lizard no master... where master?" He drew one step closer to her, looking left and right. "Master? Dog hungry..."
She raised a brow in puzzlement. This wasn't his usual self. Now that she thought about it, maybe he literally wasn't his usual self. "Wait, so you're... Dog?" She asked, only to let out a groan and massage her temple, squeezing her eyes shut to at least delay the incoming headache. "Oh, come on, how the fuck did this even happen?"
"Dog hear master, Dog come out." The... other super mutant burbled out, confirming her suspicion. Well, this one was pretty straightforward, at the very least. Before she could ask him anything else – like how the transition worked, or if he minded her taking the other one back – his eye hardened, his lips twisted into a snarl. "Dog know you... you keep Dog in cage, you work with voice!" He hefted his fist and bellowed his wrath. "Now you die!"
Screaming-Eagle trivially closed her right hand and blocked his fist in mid-air, paralyzing and locking his entire arm. Okay, if it was the other half of his mind, she only had to do what she'd done at the police station to be rid of him.
In the time it took Dog to realize she had used magic and smash her skull with his free hand instead of staring at his immobile fist like an idiot, she had already reached the disk panel on her Pip-Boy. She didn't think twice before tapping the 'Play' button.
"Dog! Back in the cage!"
The Nightkin blinked exactly three times before he straightened himself. He cast a quick glance around, only for his eye to finally focus on her. When he tried to bring his fist down to his hip, and noticed he couldn't, he shot her Pip-Boy an annoyed scowl. "Argonian, you would have my eternal... gratitude if you were so kind as to return me my hand."
"No can do, mutant." She announced him. He looked less insane than before, however much that was worth when talking about him, but... one could never be too sure. Twelve certainly wasn't convinced: she poked his cheek with the shotgun's muzzle, and kept it there for good measure. Only after her nod did she continue. "Explain how he broke out and assure me it's not going to be a problem later, and then you're free."
"It shall not happen as long as the Old Man remains silent, rest assured." The super mutant sighed, all but pouting in annoyance. "I am not certain of the way this works... but I do know this. While my voice may keep Dog at bay, the Old Man's words, the... Master's, set him free from his chains. That is all. If I do not hear him again, I will be fine." He glared down at the mute woman. "And you do realize you may very well doom us all with a mere twitch of your finger, do you, little doll?"
Screaming-Eagle shot him one last glare, but she eventually undid the spell. He was starting to get on her nerves like his original self, so that was definitely a good sign. That... beast lurking beneath the surface didn't look like it was capable of anything other than fighting, slobbering and being hungry. It couldn't even speak properly.
Twelve grudgingly lowered her weapon (but never moved her finger from the trigger), and Dean Domino finally regained what little remained of his composure and strolled to her side, clearing his throat as though nothing had happened. "Well... well done." He casually dusted his tuxedo. "Yes, well done."
"So... are we on our way to somewhere else?" The Nightkin asked the three of them, promptly disregarding the ghoul's moronic attempt at restoring a measure of his lost pride. "A Gala Event, perhaps?"
"No." Screaming-Eagle told him with a shrug. This prompted a frown of perplexity from the rest of her 'crew'. "I wasn't bluffing, I really can get us into the Sierra Madre." This time, they all raised their brows in amazement. "I'm going to need every bottle of that red shit we have left, and ten minutes to sit down, my feet hurt like Oblivion." She smiled. "Then we can begin."
Nope, downing every bottle left had been a huge mistake.
Screaming-Eagle clasped a hand to her mouth, and swallowed down the last of Domino's dreadful brew that was threatening to rise up again. Ugh, Gods, it was one thing to be drier than the Alik'r desert and guzzle the first drink she found, but now that she wasn't thirsty... bleh. Had she known how bad it actually was, she would have rather drunk her own blood, or worse. Most disgusting shit she had ever forced herself to down – and there had been three bottles of it. Three fucking bottles she'd had to quaff in order to be strong enough to tear that gate open. Oh, fuck, her head was spinning so hard now... was she seeing double? She didn't have twelve fingers on her right hand last time she'd checked... wait, that was more than double, right?
Other than her stomach on the brink of exploding and her eyesight not helping in the slightest with the nausea, she was already feeling different. It was as though something other than blood coursed through her veins, raw... power pushing hard against her mortal flesh and scales, begging to be released. It couldn't be described as anything else other than... hatred, or rage, yet in physical form. She had the strength of a goddess now, she could do as she wished, and the Earth would obey her...
As long as she didn't throw up her own guts, that was. Were... were her eyes falling out of their sockets? Hngh, it felt so... she hoped not... gods-dammit, was this how being drunk felt like to humans? Shit, at least they had the mercy of not being lucid... well, not like she was completely lucid, but still. She had the impression the memories of this moment weren't going to fade away.
She lurched unsteadily to her feet, and immediately felt her entrails go the opposite way. Nope, no exhaling through the mouth, or her whole digestive tract came out. Bracing herself against the fountain for a few seconds, her legs shaking and her insides somersaulting, she stared up at the twin holograms of the women in the blurry dresses and at the three heads they were pointing towards the Sierra Madre. The gate was right there, but she didn't dare try and read what was written on it in gold lest she vomited her own liver alongside... all the rest that was in there. Okay, little steps, one foot at a time, and she could do it... breathe in, breathe out. Don't puke, don't puke, by Akatosh, holditallinanddon'tpuke. That was easy, if she focused on it. Oh Gods, oh Divines, this was worse than when she'd first realized what the Cloud could do to her... way worse.
She should have drunk only one bottle of that shit, she knew it, she knew it, she knew it. Once this was all over, she was going to need a bathroom... just what was in those cocktails? She was never drinking one of those things ever again... or anything even remotely red, for that matter, be it wine or strawberry juice or healing potions. Nope. Not taking the risk.
"Argonian?" Someone said, his or... their voice distorted and reverberating as though inside a dream. She had to close her eyes to turn towards what she imagined to be its source and, upon opening them, saw two Nightkin frowning at her, arms folded across their chests. "Are you all right? You look... drunk."
"Dun't... fink so..." Screaming-Eagle half slurred, half burped, desperately attempting to hide the fact she could hardly speak. When the three super mutants tried to get closer, she firmly shook her head – and regretted it instantly. Her brain bounced up and down, left and right in her skull, ringing like a bell every time. She couldn't show it, or they were all going to assume she was weak and stop her. No, she didn't want anyone to help her, she was fine... well, fine-ish. She wasn't about to let him or them get any closer. With a decisive, if drunken, gesture, she waved them off.
A deafening crash made her jump out of her scales. She heard bricks being ground to dust, wood splintering and glass shattering, the noise rebounding off of every surface and stabbing lances of agony through her brains. If she turned to watch what had happened then her head was certainly going to come unscrewed, so she could only guess what was going on. Sounded like a catapult or a high-explosive missile had struck something. It was almost as if...
"BLOODY FUCKING HELL!" What sounded like a dozen Dean Dominoes squealed all around her, causing her to clasp her hands to her hearing canals and cry out in pain. Son of a bitch, couldn't he fucking talk instead of screaming? Turn the volume down a bit? Dagon take her, her vision shook harder and harder with every second of noise. "Keep her the fuck away from me!"
"Sssshut upp!" Screaming-Eagle moaned at him, careful not to make any sudden motions this time. Her hands went from her aching ears to her pained eyes. They were moist; was she crying? Ah, fuck if she knew, everything was so blurry and painful she didn't even care at this point. She felt like shit. She just wanted this to end and go home and have Keram-Rei cook for her and sleep for a whole week. "Moo... mudant, wha'd I do? What's he want?"
No answer came for a several moments. She took advantage of the time by trying to get closer to the gate she was supposed to destroy. After... an uncertain number of steps (probably very few), she nearly tripped over her own feet. A pair of hands grabbed her by the shoulders to keep her somewhat up. The world span a bit less than before, and she was able to walk in a roughly straight line. Those hands felt kinda small. It couldn't be the mutant with his police baton-sized fingers, and the ghoul was probably too busy shitting himself to get any close to her... must've been Twelve. Sweet girl, a shame she was deaf and she couldn't properly thank her- no, wait, she was mute, not deaf... or was she blind? No, no, mute. Totally mute. She remembered, yes, she was the one she liked because she was quiet, right.
"Perhaps you have drunk too much of the singer's... concoction, I would be more at ease if you were to stand down and rest." The mutant told her after a while. Now that she was right in front of the gate, she saw the hundreds of black bars waving like serpents in front of her. Weren't they supposed to be still? And wasn't the super mutant supposed to... what, be a dick and not sound worried? "You just... demolished a building's façade, Argonian. By simply moving your hand."
Screaming-Eagle blinked, dumbfounded, but not so much as to face about and have her head come off of her shoulders. Bullshit. That didn't make any fucking sense, she wasn't that strong. "I... wha?"
"We are completely, absolutely and utterly fucked." Dean Domino sighed somewhere behind her. Or at least, she thought he was somewhere behind her. It was hard to tell, what with all the echoes and how many of him there were around the square. "Look at that cow, she's shitfaced! She's going to bring the whole town down around our ears!"
Screaming-Eagle ignored his words, or what sounded like the Nightkin's reply, and focused entirely on the black gate before her. It was... high. Really high. Now, she didn't want to exaggerate there, but it was safe to say it looked like it might be around three hundred feet tall or something like that. No, wait... was it growing taller or growing shorter? If she squeezed her eyes really, really hard and made it stand still, she supposed it might have been around fifteen feet or something... but that was when it wasn't spiraling up into the red sky and only if she glanced at it out of the corner of her eye. The walls and buildings around it weren't that flexible, why was it the gate could move and those couldn't? Privileged bastard...
Bah, it didn't matter. She had to destroy it and by the Gods, she was going to... somehow. She shrugged her shoulders to make Twelve let her go, and the disfigured woman did so at once. She staggered a little, almost fell face-first into the boiling tiles of the square, but she managed to balance herself by setting her feet wide apart and planting them more or less firmly on the ground. Squinting to get the number of bars right, she finally managed to look right in front of her, at the gate within arm's reach. Okay, she was ready for some magic. She had to... well...
Wait, how did she magic again?
It wasn't with some fancy words, that was in the holomovies and the books from this world, no, no... or was it with the scrolls, too? Yeah, scrolls worked with words... no, she wasn't using a scroll, she was using her magic here, her own magic powers. Maybe she had to make a little dance... yeah, no, that was totally out of the question. She could hardly stand and walk, no dancing and smashing her face into the floor. She didn't have a staff, so it wasn't that. No... maybe a... wait...
Ah, fuck it, better to trust her instincts on this one. She wanted to get through, she knew she wanted to, although she didn't really remember why... something important? To go home? No – well, yes, but not directly. It was to get the Old Man out of hiding! A growl bubbled up in her chest at the thought. Motherfucker... he wanted that gate open, so she was going to open it and bang! She was gonna get him. She was gonna get him good.
She had to do something if she wanted to make it fall, though... how did she make things fall again? Pushing them? No, not pushing them, that was too light. She had to punch it! With magic words, just to be sure. Something good for the occasion... aha, she knew what to say!
"Sssseriouss ssseriess..." Screaming-Eagle hissed, grimacing in concentration as she brought her closed fist back to strike. The further back her arm went, the more she felt her wild Magicka run through it, making her tremble with restrained might. One move, and it was all going to be unleashed. "Sssseriouss punch!"
She missed, drunkenly swung around, and toppled to the ground.
The earth beneath her shook, the rocks howling their rage to the heavens. The tiles cracked and parted around her, the buildings of the fountain's plaza crumbled to rubble and kicked up choking clouds of dust and debris. The gate before her squealed in agony at the strength of the blow, the metal screeching as it was torn asunder and thrown into the air, then thrust into the ground with violence.
Screaming-Eagle barely paid it any mind: her stomach did not resist the upheaval. She raised herself onto her side with her elbow, and emptied its contents onto the ground before her. Three whole bottles and some more... now it really felt like her eyes were falling out. Fuck, it wasn't an even red, some of it was brighter, some darker... was that blood?
When she was done, she fell on her back and gulped in the thick, dusty air. Her head reeled from all the noise and the movements, her internal... everything from her throat to her ass hurt so much she could barely even sit up. Oh, shit, oh, fuck, that had been horrible... never again. No more punching gates, no more drinking red shit, no more getting crews together, no more listening to old men that looked like pugs.
The exact moment she considered taking a nap, the thankfully singular shadow of the mutant loomed over her. She couldn't really decipher his expression, especially since half of his face was shut closed and his lips were malformed as usual. Cloud and mild nausea only worsened the situation. She had the sinking feeling he didn't look neither concerned, nor scared.
"Well done, Argonian." He spat out, his mocking laughter now replaced by a harsh scowl. At least his voice wasn't echoing and there weren't three of him... "You have truly outdone yourself this time. You do realize your... stunt could have very well killed us all, allowing the Old Man to keep on living?"
"But it didn't..." Screaming-Eagle croaked. She closed her eyes just to save herself the sight of him scowling harder (and to keep them from rolling out of their sockets), and pointed at the puddle of sick somewhere to her... left, yes. "Look, mutant... thanks to that we're alive, kinda fine, and the gate's down..."
"Along with the rest of the square." The Nightkin retorted in a growl. He gestured to an area she couldn't see behind his back. "Now this part of the Villa is in ruins, and the... residents are going to flock to this place in mere minutes. We have precious little time before we are overrun, and yet you employ it by... resting there, on the ground, doing nothing."
Screaming-Eagle opened a single eye this time, and stared up at him with the shadow of a smile. She couldn't help it, feeling sick or no, there was something funny about this whole thing. She had never even come close to possessing such destructive powers, let alone using them. "But it was awesome, wasn't it?"
The super mutant didn't even deign her with an answer. He sighed out loud, muttered something under his breath, and vanished from her sight. She heard some vague exchange between him and what sounded like an extremely frightened Dean Domino. She wasn't too sure of what was being said, but the enormous difference in tone between the two must have made it rather comical.
She shook her head with a huff. Okay, now that the world wasn't spinning as hard as five minutes ago and her body wasn't about to fall apart, she pushed herself into a sitting position. The spears of pain piercing her head had receded to pins – annoying, but much more manageable. Climbing to her feet and coughing away the dust that had gotten in her throat, she glanced at her new surroundings, and... well...
There wasn't much left in the way of surroundings.
What had once been a circle of long-abandoned two-story homes and shops enveloping the square had turned into mounds of shattered bricks, old timbers jutting out of the piles like broken bones. The air was made even thicker by a cloud of dust that had still to settle and mixed with the Cloud itself to create a thick pinkish mist. The ground beneath her feet had been ripped open, the tiles separated in places by broad cracks zigzagging their way through the plaza, easily a foot deep. That cursed fountain had split in two, no more topped by the hologram of the woman in the evening dress, the smoke rising from the projector's circuits adding to the fog. As for the gate itself, it simply wasn't there. Sure, some spikes of black iron rose up from the ruins here and there to remind her that something metal had once existed in that general area, but that was all she could see of the impenetrable gate.
Uncertain footsteps warned her of Twelve's presence. She shot the woman a quick glance, noticing how her expression had gone completely blank, and how her shoulders shook when she met her eyes. She held a white-knuckled grip on her shotgun and just... stood there, seemingly content to creepily stare at the creature who had caused a miniature earthquake with a missed punch.
"What?" Screaming-Eagle asked her with an offended frown. She theatrically brought a hand to her chest when she noticed the other's lips twitch upwards. "I was supposed to open the gate, nobody ever said anything about the square that was attached to it." She raised a brow when she began to chuckle silently. "Come on now, the sooner we get this over with, the better. Don't you agree?"
"SOD OFF, I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE NEAR THAT BLOODY WITCH!" The ghoul screeched, piquing her attention. She turned just in time to see him flail his arms wildly and scream in the mutant's face – who still remained stolid as ever. "FUCK YOU, AND FUCK HER SIDEWAYS, I'M-"
"You're what, Domino?" Screaming-Eagle quietly asked as she strode towards him, flanked by Twelve, mouth creased in an amused little smile. It was hard not to laugh when he went completely stiff and quiet. "I hope you were going to say 'I'm joking, and I will serve her with utmost loyalty until this is all over'. Isn't that so, singer?"
"Y-yes!" Dean Domino whimpered, giving her a series of frantic nods to confirm that it had indeed been his intention. What a poor way to cover his sorry ass. "I-I-I... of course, of course! Yes!" He let out a nervous giggle through clenched teeth and playfully punched the super mutant's arm. "W-we were jo-joking! Isn't that so, Strong Man?"
"You are pathetic, showman." The Nightkin spurned him with a snort. He looked at entire crew assembled before him, and his eye narrowed in distaste. "Well? What are we waiting for? The Sierra Madre awaits... and so does the Old Man."
Screaming-Eagle answered by facing about and heading out toward what little was left of the gate. Beyond the dust and Cloud she saw a great winding stairway rise up the hill, the odd lamp flickering and casting its ruddy light over the ancient steps. Her gaze instinctively went up, following the line of the path, up until she was met with the looming form of the casino's tower. The crimson mantle covering the sky swirled and folded unto itself, scarlet lightning intermittently cracked through the blanket and flashed hard against the Sierra Madre's silhouette. As the others either placidly strolled up the steps like the mutant or trotted madly like the ghoul, with Twelve holding onto her shotgun and following at a fair distance from the two, she remained where she was.
She had an idea.
Assuming that, just for a second, the Old Man had to get inside the same way as they, he was almost certainly going to have to face the locals' rage to get there. Still assuming that he made it through without a scratch, he had no idea how magic worked, nor could he distinguish between spells of different schools such as, say, Restoration, Alteration and Destruction. For all she cared, he may very well dismiss her localized havoc as mere chance, or some highly elaborate ploy involving explosives stashed away someplace secret. He didn't seem like the kind of guy to accept the impossible or irrational.
Grinning horn to horn, she crouched right at the start of the stairs. She began to move her hand in a slow, circular motion, focusing on the lightning up above to aid herself in her intent. A pair of concentric circles began to form on the three steps before her, the blue glow growing more and more vivid with each passing second. She added more layers to it, smaller circles crossing the greatest lines of power to distribute the magic equally across the surface, Daedric runes appearing at the edges to give it purpose... and finally, in the middle, the runic letter for 'L'. Electricity coursed through the circles and arced between each rune, all connected by the largest one in the center. True, it flickered and almost winked out a couple of times, but that was the closest thing to a Lightning Rune she could possibly conjure in that caustic environment.
Her magic wasn't as strong and uncontrollable as before, either... which was both a blessing and a curse, for obvious reasons. She finally wasn't nauseous nor drunk, and she could exert a certain level of control over her arcane arts... yet it was nowhere near the true might she had wielded when she had annihilated the gate and all of the fountain's square. Ah, whatever – what truly mattered was that her magic still hadn't left her. She would have time to dwell upon the thought later... unless what the mutant had said was indeed true and she only had a minute or two before the locals came to the Sierra Madre's doorstep. Well, in that case...
Screaming-Eagle smiled impishly, expectantly rubbing her palms together. Gods willing, she could climb a lot of steps and plant a lot of runes in a minute or two.