Eyo
Armour: Brimflame
Weapon: Infernal Rift, Stormfront Razor
Acc(10/11): Celestial cuffs, Mana Flower, Sorcerer Emblem, Celestial Emblem, Ankh Shield, Deific Amulet, FrostSpark Boots, Grand Gelatin, Amalgamated Brain, Evasion Scarf.
Health: (425/500)
Armour: Victide Armour (Ranger)
Weapon: Tendon Bow (Jester Arrows); Arkhalis
Acc(11/11): Band of Regeneration, Amidas Spark, Sailfish Boots, Luxor's Gift, Ocean Crest, Counter Scarf, Crown Jewel, Tsunami in a Bottle, Frog Leg, Aero Stone, Shield of the Ocean
Health: (400/400)
Attempting to repair the intricate innards of her destroyed communications equipment while suffering the worst hangover of her life was not how she imagined she'd be spending her first sober moments after last night's blender. But to be fair, she also hadn't expected this relatively simple reconnaissance mission to go so utterly sideways. She had come to investigate what that traitor cultist had done before he fled to The Resistance, but contrary to expectation, found herself fighting a small war involving several important actors from The Empire and The Resistance... not to mention the crafty non-Lab Director and The Experiment - who's very existence made everything wonky.
Urg... I think I'm gonna hurl again...
She sighed as she pressed the tips of her fingers into her temples and peered groggily into the hollow shell of her smashed equipment. One of the diodes she attempted to replace made an odd crackling noise then sparked and began to smoke. Frustrated with her engineering incompetency, she shouted, yanked out a fistful of wires and tossed them to the patio floor - where they promptly vanished.
She turned to glare wrathfully over her shoulder.
"Hey! Bitch, give that back!"
"..."
The Experiment - who she had jokingly nicknamed 'bitchface' during their last outing - was straddling the retaining wall several metres up and was busy reinforcing it with great iron beams. He seemed to somehow know when litter or debris fell to the floor, and would telepathically 'pick up' anything she so much as dropped by accident. She had dropped her screwdriver four times over the past three hours attempting to beat her comms equipment back into working order (an entirely hopeless endeavor) and each and every time - it vanished the moment it hit the ground. She had to run over to The Experiment, scale the wall, and kick him in his armoured kneecaps until he returned it.
"Hey! The wires! I need those!"
"..."
The Party Girl stood to her feet and planted her hands on her hips to offer The Experiment a deep scowl. He was occupying himself hammering a great litany of differently designed spikes and razor wire along the top of the wall (he was really turning that deathtrap into a piece of art) - and paused midswing to look at her. Although his eyes were shadowed by his closed visor, The Party Girl found it rather simple to read his basic body language. After all, she was an experienced master of combat. She knew tension when she saw it - and The Experiment was reasonably relaxed around her. Evidently, he saw her as an ally of sorts - and she saw this as an opportunity to try and exploit him for her mission's sake.
"Hellooo?! Come see if you can fix this please?!"
And that meant trying to make him help her fix this damn comms equipment! Central wasn't exactly forgiving concerning Agents failing to report after long periods of time. In fact, she had a colleague who had been 'dismissed' because he had spent too long off grid with his new lover (central command had questioned his devotion to The King, and he was promptly disposed of). At this point, she hadn't contacted central in... a week? Perhaps two? and was well on her way into the danger zone. If she didn't bring Amidas's head on a platter as an 'excuse' for her going MIA, she might be reprimanded, demoted... or even dismissed.
This damn Experiment had better follow through with his promise...
The Party Girl glared at him from her place at the picnic table and tried to look as displeased she could. It didn't take much effort. She looked messy and unkempt. Her hair was tangled in an unworkable mess. Her fingers were black with grease and covered in small abrasions from rubbing against the small sharp bits found in the insides of electronics, but besides for these nominal injuries and her pounding alcohol induced headache, she had almost completely recovered from the trials she had endured at the hands of The Resistance Detachment. After soaking in a bathtub full of healing solution for about two straight days - a proposition so utterly expensive, she was certain only royalty would even consider such a thing - all of her gruesome injuries were reduced to nothing but faint scars. Once again, she was in fighting form, and that meant she could go after Amidas.
*Thud... step... step*
The Experiment put a few finishing touches on the wall and hopped off to land on the grass with a hollow thud. He stood back to admire his handiwork for a moment, before gliding over to stand beside her and peer at her ruined equipment. Evidently, he was going to be just as useless as she'd been concerning that mess of electronics and wires - but pulled off his helmet to sat down to give it a shot anyways. The Party Girl actually hadn't seen his bare face before (aside for the first time she'd seen him - that dark night where he walked covered from head to toe in blood), and sat back to examine The Experiment.
Hm... have I met someone with his face?
Something about his features seemed familiar, yet The Party Girl was certain she hadn't met him before. He wasn't extraordinarily handsome, nor was he extraordinarily ugly - actually, he was just so utterly ordinary, he looked to be a mix of everyone she'd ever met. His was the type of face one would look at for one moment, and forget the next for its plain and pedestrian nature.
Yet his face was probably the most 'normal' thing about him. The Experiment was evidently some sort of pseudo-human. He was extraordinarily strong... and not strong in the traditional sense, but almost as if he defied the laws of physics themselves. He moved weightlessly, he leapt about as if gravity had no hold on him whatsoever. He was an aberration, some strange amalgamation of man and beast and who knows what else, and because of that, The Party Girl felt a certain kinship with him.
Because she was much the same. Draedon had made her... and The Experiment exhibited many of the traits of a created being, over a natural one. Perhaps they were actually 'siblings' in this regard? Interested, The Party Girl determined to inquire of him.
*tap tap*
She reached over and rapped a fingernail on his shoulder bracer in order to draw his attention. He didn't turn to look, but paused ever so slightly - and she knew he had noticed her. She hunkered down beside him and posed her question in a low voice. Although he continued to work, she knew he was listening.
"So... did The Guide make you?"
"..."
A moment of silence. The Experiment froze and stared deeply into the mess of wiring. He obviously had no idea how a encryption radio was supposed to work and was just organizing everything up and making it look nice, but stopped mid task when she asked the prying question. His brow furrowed ever so slightly and his expression tightened. It appeared he didn't immediately know the answer, and pondering the topic caused him considerable distress. Eventually, he resumed working and answered in a low mutter.
"I don't know."
"Oh."
She blinked and stared at the side of his head. How awkward. Clearly The Experiment wasn't Draedon's, because Draedon was a proud entity. He made sure every one of his creations knew who was responsible for their lives. The Guide definitely wasn't Draedon's lackey, and although he was a highly intelligent individual, it was doubtful he was also an experimental bio-geneticists.
So who made The Experiment? Was it The Cultist? Perhaps he's a summon or some magical experimental entity?
The Party Girl sighed and shrugged. Honestly, this was none of her business. Poking her nose into places she wasn't welcome was a great way to have it chopped off. The Experiment, despite getting both his arm re-attached (she hadn't a clue how he'd managed that) and his Guide brought back to life (She didn't know how that had happened either), still didn't seem particularly happy. Actually, if anything, he had the air of a sulking toddler about him. She didn't want to deal with whatever mood was hidden behind that mask-like face. All she cared about was her mission. Once her mission was done, she could get The Experiment to escort her out of his little bubble barrier and she'd be on her merry way.
Once The Guide comes out, I'll convince him to go after Amidas. I know what those Resistance scum did to him. No doubt he'll be more than willing to help me. Technically, I don't even need The Guide - but I know The Experiment will do whatever he says, so It's best to get him on board
She craned her neck to stare into the sky, collecting her thoughts as the puffy gray clouds dispersed overhead. The sun was still mostly shrouded in last night's rain clouds and-
Oh shit! It rained!
The Party Girl jolted. It had rained! What about the trail?! A light rain wouldn't erase a scent, but a heavy one? A torrential one? What rotten luck! Could The Experiment follow Amidas's three day old scent after such a downpour? Was that even possible? Quickly, she twisted and grabbed ahold of The Experiment's furred cape to shake him violently. He clearly hadn't expected to be manhandled so suddenly, and was nearly flung out of his chair as if he weighed nothing at all. His eyes went wide; his face went blank. He stared forlornly at the handful of wires he had so painstakingly organized, and were now torn and scattered across his lap. For a moment, he went rigid and fretted over his ruined work - before slowly putting everything down and withdrawing his hands from the bowels of the broken machinery.
"Hey, Hey, smell this. Can you track the scent?! The rain didn't wash it away, right?! Tell me you can track it!"
Oblivious to his disappointment, The Party Girl quickly pulled Amidas's golden armlet from her waistband and shoved it in his face. She saw his brow grow dark and his nostrils flare, but her panic caused her to ignore these warning signs. Hell! If she couldn't find Amidas, then how in the world was she going to come back to Central and not get her head lopped off?! Her hands trembled as she pestered him.
"Please tell me you can still track it, goddamn you! Hey! Pay attention to me!"
The Experiment swatted her away in annoyance and turned his face away, but she was insistent. The Party Girl, having been raised firstly on the streets, and then in Yharim's CC training facility - was no stranger to being crude, physical and handsy. Nevertheless, especially now that The Experiment had both arms attached, she only dared treat The Experiment like this because she was convinced he wouldn't hurt her. After all, wasn't he indebted to her? Because she was an ally to The Guide, The Experiment wouldn't dare lay a finger-
*shlicckk*
But apparently, The Experiment did have limits to his self control.
In a moment, she'd been lifted bodily by the collar of her shirt and hurled facefirst into the grass. She heard the distinctive noise of a sword being pulled from its sheath. The sound made her hair stand on end and triggered her fight or flight response. As quick as lightning, she rolled to the side and bolted to her feet. It was only due to The Experiment's sloppy bladework that she escaped at all - for he really was quite fast, but his skills really were extraordinarily bad. The blade stuck in the ground several centimetres from her foot and she quickly drew a dagger with which to defend herself. She snarled at him, heart palpitating and panic in her gaze.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
The Experiment stared her down, cold flint in his eyes. His face was dead, not betraying even an ounce of emotion - negative or otherwise. The Party Girl hadn't the slightest idea why the previously peaceful Experiment had suddenly turned violent, but now that he had, she was only interested in self preservation and retaliation. With a quickness uncanny to human beings, she flung two of her throwing knives at The Experiment. One he deflected with an armoured bracer. The other struck him in the cheek - tearing through the flesh and revealing the white molars underneath.
"Get away from me! Stay back!"
The Experiment didn't seem very bothered that his face had just been sliced open. Obviously he noticed the wound because he reached up and (quite disgustingly) stuck his fingers into it after yanking the blade from between his teeth, but he didn't appear to feel pain whatsoever. He didn't retrieve the sword lodged in the dirt, but instead generated an identical one in his hand as he approached her. Was... was he really going to kill her? Yes. She could see it in his eyes. She had been annoying, true, but she had been annoying before. Had something changed? Why was he suddenly so quick to resort to murder?!
"Stay away! What do you want!"
He stared at her - there wasn't even anger in his face. Just pure apathy. Perhaps he really was going to try and kill her for slightly inconveniencing him!? Was that the reason? Did he even need a reason? Perhaps this was on whim? Whatever it was, The Party Girl wasn't going to take it laying down. She readied another handful of throwing knives and backpedalled as he raised his blade. Briefly, his form seemed to flicker and she was reminded when he had 'dashed' towards the monstrous Travelling Merchant in the woods, moving so quickly that even her enhanced eyesight registered it as teleportation. Shit, she was fast... but not nearly that fast.
*fwoosh*
The Experiment disappeared.
She dove.
And in an instant, he had reappeared where she'd been standing moments before with his blade outstretched to run her through. She swore she heard his neck creak as he languidly turned to fix her with his blank, empty gaze. The Experiment wasn't taking this seriously. Now that he was (mostly) whole, he was well aware of the power difference between them, and would finish her at his leisure. It didn't matter if he had awful swordsmanship when he was ten times stronger and ten times faster than she. If he wanted her dead, then she was dead. The Party Girl was on her back. If she didn't want to die now, she had better get the hell up. Cursing her forwardness and willing her limbs to stop shaking, she propped herself up on her elbows, only to see The Experiment's stretch out his blade, his form beginning to flicker once more.
Fuck.
He vanished. She barely registered a streak of metallic silver zipping towards her throat when-
"Slayer."
"..."
When an unhappy voice called over the quiet green lawn.
And everything went still.
The voice wasn't loud. Neither did it convey any sort of authority, but its effect on The Experiment was so dramatic, that even The Party Girl turned to pay rapt attention.
The Experiment had frozen in place. His previously blank expression was now very clearly fearful. As if he'd just been caught doing something naughty, he quickly vanished his blade and fell out of his predatory posture. He turned to look innocently at The Guide, who frowned at him with narrowed eyes. The man's slight frame was leaned tiredly against the first house's doorpost. He didn't carry himself with any sort of authority - but his demeanor made it clear just who was in charge here.
"Slayer, what are you doing?"
"..."
The Guide's voice had taken on an accusatory tone. It was slight, barely perceptible, but The Party Girl saw The Experiment's ears prick up and his jawline tighten. His stance went from neutral to meek, and he generated another helmet in his hands - quickly attaching it to the top of his chassis and hiding his face from The Guide's apparently terrifying gaze.
The Guide's voice went cold.
"And I've been looking for The Merchant all morning. Where is he?"
"..."
The Party Girl blinked, quite certain she had killed The Merchant, and he wasn't around to be 'found'. Unless, of course, The Guide was searching for a corpse. She was still far too spooked to raise any questions, and simply took the opportunity to silently climb to her feet and put a safe distance between herself and The Experiment. The Guide was slowly making his way towards the center of the field; The Experiment was acting as if he was being approached by the Grim Reaper himself.
"Slayer. The Merchant."
"...I... I don't know."
The Guide was angry now. He was clearly upset that he had nearly witnessed his pet monster commit a murder, and moreso now that the pet monster was being uncooperative about another missing person. He stalked towards the fully armored knight and jabbed a finger into the helmet's visor.
"You don't know?"
The Party Girl had never seen a helmet cringe before, but was quite certain she saw the cold steel warp into an indescribable expression. The Guide's voice grew cold and demanding.
"Track him."
"I can't."
"Why."
"Rain."
"What?"
"It rained. There is no scent."
The Party Girl felt her eyes widen in dismay. Amidas's scent was gone?! How was she supposed to find him now! She wanted to voice her displeasure, but The Experiment was already being yelled at by his 'parent'. She wasn't going to get between them and simply retreated out of sight to listen from a distance.
I need to kill Amidas to go home... I've got-to find a way. I need to earn my keep or else... or else...
She heard The Guide speak again, this time he sounded almost fierce.
"Slayer, What did you do!?"
"..."
"Come, we're going to look for him."
"...we can't."
Now The Guide was yelling. The Experiment's voice grew meeker by proportion. Although he had just tried to kill her a moment ago, The Party Girl couldn't help but feel his terror.
"No?!"
"... we can't go out."
"Why can't we go out."
"Something is coming... an army is approaching from the west."
Serenity.
Pale blue skies streaked with wispy, windblown clouds stretch overhead - connecting one horizon to the other. White snow powders the ground, pure white, untouched and perfect, coming up in little puffs at my footfalls. When I look closely at the powder which falls upon my deep red cloak, I see tiny patterns of almost infinite complexity. Had I the time, I might have sat there for hours staring at that miniature, peaceful beauty.
(cough...cough)
There's no wind. Everything is silent. Everything besides for my soft footfalls on the plateau's rolling snowbanks and the ragged cough that tears periodically from my throat. After I, well... After my rogue magic surged forth and butchered that tremendous Corrupted Worm, I had stopped seeing them in the corners of my vision. I occasionally see translucent squirming in the snow, but it's quite easy to ignore... especially now that I have greater problems to deal with.
(cough...cough, tch)
Because The Corruption has taken root. I feel it curling around inside of me, eating, clawing, gnawing and biting. It's slowly eating me, and the only means I have to fend it off are my supply of regeneration potions... of which I have rapidly depleted.
I have no time...
I won't last much longer like this. I need to return to The Resistance. I'm sure they can fix me if they are willing. I need to fight this 'Cryogen' soon. I must find that icy prison and defeat whatever beast spawns forth. I cling to the hope I am aptly equipped to defeat it, but my morale is low... because that powerful magic which destroyed the Corruption Worm in an instant? That great power that I had once gloried in?
I can't use it.
I can't access it.
My own power has rebelled against me. I pull on my mana, and something pulls back. I dip into my stores of power, and I feel breath and slobber and teeth pressed against the back of my neck. I draw from it and my vision goes dim and my brain fills with fog. Somehow I know that if I use my magic, I'm going to be swallowed.
By what? I hadn't the faintest clue. Can my own magic eat me? I had never read of such a thing, but I know it.
I'm convinced.
Its a gut feeling.
But a powerful, terrifying one.
The warmth in my bones begins to fade. Almost immediately, my teeth begin to chatter and my sickly flesh curdles. All my skin is covered in dark plates of armour, but I know the flesh beneath must be a sickly purple colour by now. I grit my teeth and pull my last warmth potion from my invisible inventory and down it. The Prison should be nearby... I must find it soon and then...
What then?!
I cannot use my wand lest I find myself eaten alive by the dark entity living in my shadow. I have... I have my blade. The electrical blade I had only ever used in close quarters and was only lightly trained in. Was this The Resistance's plan?! To send me through The Corruption to cripple me and lock away my magic (although I can't imagine they know the nature of my... doppleganger) then allow me to be killed by whatever this 'Cryogen' might be? Maybe it's better if I just lay down here and let The Corruption in my flesh kill me. At least it will be a peaceful death. I can prolong the time between now and when I wake in The Crimson. Can anyone win when handicapped in such a manner?! Agh!
No! You're not going to die.
"I'm going to live!"
I shout it, but I don't believe it. I've drunk my warmth potion, by my limbs are still shaking. I tell myself its because of the cold, but I know better. I... I'm terrified. I'm terrified. I'm going to lose. I'm going to die. All of my preparation was for nothing. I should have never been brought into this world. I would rather not exist than suffer eternity with The Crimson Worms. I'm scared. I'm-
"SHUT UP!"
(Shut up)
(shut up)
(...)
My own voice echos back at me, and I lift my gaze to the serene mountain tops. I take off my helmet and drink in the scene. The silent jagged peaks. The glimmer of the sun, delicate on the snow. The icicles which form in the shade and melt in the sun. The bright sky. The regal clouds. I suck in a deep breath and feel the cold air flood my lungs, cooling the feverish corruption that is planted there.
I look to the sky and whisper to myself.
"I'm going to live. Hero, don't give up."
I won't give up.
I won't.
I sigh, fasten my helmet back in place and look around. The Plateau is large, nestled within a ring of tall peaks. I am standing in its centre. I know, because I've counted my steps. The Prison should be here, but... where is it? Above?
Below?
My knees ache and burn when I kneel down and sink my arms elbow deep into the snow. I hit something flat and cold, and then, with my bare hands, I begin to dig.
I don't know how long I was there, clearing the snow, distracting myself from my imminent doom with trivial tasks, but its finished all too soon. A great icy door fastened with a great lock, twice as tall as I, and thrice as wide. I can see something held immobile behind that strange, carved door. A person? The Archmage? I stare at him and grit my teeth. I taste blood. The Corruption has rotted holes in my tongue.
I heal myself and down my last regeneration potion.
I pull out The Frozen Key.
I lift my eyes to the sky and stare into the great deep expanse, losing myself in its deep colour. I see a flock of birds cross overhead. How free they are, soaring on the waves of the wind. Floating from one corner of the earth to another. My heart is filled with longing. Regretful tears pool at the corners of my eyes, and I don't bother to wipe them.
After all, there is nobody here to judge me now.
It's just me, and my death sentence.
Me and my executioner.
I'm out of time.
I take a deep breath and approach the great lock.
I slot in the key.
I turn it.
It's time to fight.
*Guide Appears*
Party Girl: I thought you were dead!
*Merchant Appears*
PG:I thought you were dead too!
*Stylist walks out*
PG: Just what in the hell is happening.
*Dryad*
PG: I... I think i need to stop drinking.
Notes: So in addition to Faze drinking the regen potion, he also pretty much drinks everything else in his inventory. I just didn't really want to write it, but if you're really interested, just the basic combat buffs. nothing really game/story changing lmao. Go baby, Faze you can do it.
Slayer is finally behaving like a proper terrarian... killing NPCs for no reason at all, because they just respawn anyways. :)
KK sorry for late. I try harder.