Enter Stylist!
She doesn't like Slayer very much :(
Armour:
Victide (Ranger)
Weapon: Mandible Bow (Jester Arrows); Arkhalis
Acc(11/11): Band of Regeneration, Amidas Spark, Sailfish Boots, Luxor's Gift, Ocean Crest, Amidas Pendant, Crown Jewel, Tsunami in a Bottle, Frog Leg, Aero Stone, Shield of the Ocean
Health: (400/400)
She sobbed.
As silently as she could, she wept in forlorn despair. There was no chance for survival. She knew death was coming. It would even be a mercy!… but the method to reach that dark, cold sleep was so dreadful she could scarcely think about it. How she wished she had a knife to slit her own throat, but alas, her hands were tied. Her whole body held immobile, cocooned amongst the rotting corpses of her companions whose awful screams still echoed in her ears. They had since departed, they didn't live long as their veins were filled with venom and their guts bloated with arachnid eggs. She was the last one; she knew her end was coming.
*skitter…skitter...*
She flinched as she felt the prickly crawling of tiny legs against her bare skin. Her stomach lurched in dread and she choked out a low, hitching groan. Something began to nibble at her fingertips, drawing pinpricks of blood to the surface. The wounds burned like fire, offering her a foretaste of what horrid fate awaited her. She sucked air and struggled weakly. Her mouth and nose were wrapped about, making breathing difficult… but perhaps that was a blessing in disguise. She had already been hanging here for two days, and the bodies of her companions were beginning to stink.
*skitter… skitter… skitter*
The spiders were suddenly more active, crawling about frantically as if once again on the hunt. Had another poor group of people ventured into these cursed spider caves? Those crawling walls filled with fiery, lurid venomous things which overwhelmed even the bravest of warriors? Surely all who stepped foot here were as good as dead. She opened her mouth in an attempt to shout a warning, but all she managed was a muffled bark and a mouthful of filthy webbing.
"Mmmmm! Mmrrr!"
No use. That light… she could see it approaching. A singular torch slowly, steadily moving through the webbed caves as a brilliant blade flashed about at an impossible speed, slicing cleanly and silently through the maze of sticky webbing. Bright torchlight scattered off that cold steel, reflecting off the glowing blade and illuminating the strange armour of its wielder. It was (she twisted uselessly in her bonds to get a better look) a singular man, not particularly tall, nor particularly imposing in figure, but there was something about the way he moved struck her with grave discomfort. This man… he wasn't human.
Dangerous!
How strange, she thought. Then she considered how unreasonable she was being. Her situation was dire in the extreme. She likely wouldn't live the night… yet upon gazing upon the… almost-man that might be her rescuer, she was filled with anxiety? Stupid! Perhaps he wasn't a man, but he certainly wasn't a spider! He looked like a man. He probably had ears, eyes and a mouth beneath that helmet. Perhaps he could hear, speak and understand! She renewed her efforts, this time, to draw his attention.
"Mrrrrph! Mmmmm!"
Yes, he could certainly save her. Look at the way he effortlessly shot down every eight legged monstrosity that dared to approach him. Even those that fled, he chased down with fiery bolts. Every piece of webbing was either cut away with the blade or lit aflame with blazing arrows. Every crawling creature, great or small, was crushed, slashed to bits, or burnt alive. In an instant, this strange man had turned the creeping spider caves into a fiery inferno whose floor was matted with twitching corpses.
They're… They're all dead?
Why… why had this man come here? To rescue her? No. He didn't even pay her a passing glance as he single mindedly crushed his way through the egg sacs. Did he come to avenge somebody who had died in the spider caves? No. There was no emotion in him at all. His movements indicated neither anger nor grief. Perhaps he was searching for treasure? No… he had walked past a Webbed Chest without giving it a glance… So why was he here?
As she watched him from her cocoon on the ceiling, the answer came to her. It sent a shiver down her spine.
A Destroyer
This man… he was merely here to destroy. There was no rhyme or reason to it. He had no purpose or grudge to settle. With simple mechanical motions, every spiderweb was cut down or reduced to ash. Every living creature, killed and splattered to the floor. Their eggs, put to torch. Their children, crushed beneath a cold, merciless heel. This man was a destroyer. When he finally reached her, would he destroy her too?
Perhaps.
Perhaps he would… but between the mercy of a stranger and that of a venomous spider, what choice had she? The fire had caught amongst the corpses piled high on the floor, and the stink of smoke was rapidly filling the cavern. She could feel her silken bonds loosening, melting in on themselves and threatening to plunge her headfirst into that flaming graveyard. One of her rotting companions had already fallen. There, illuminated in the flickering blaze, his guts burst and tiny spiders spilled from his abdomen - only to blacken and fry in the stinking heap. How horrid! She summoned what remaining strength she could muster and thrashed until an arm came free. She tore the bonds from about her mouth and cried out as loudly as she could.
"Sir! Please help! Please Help!"
Although the cavern had grown so unbearably hot that she could feel her skin beginning to blister, when The Destroyer turned to look at her, her blood ran like ice. This man… what was he? What a presence he had. It was like standing in the shadow of a great, mindless beast. He watched her for a long moment before the blade vanished from his hand. A bow appeared in its place; He took aim at her.
"No! Please don't shoo-!"
*fwump, fwump, fwump*
Three bolts flew at her with such deadly velocity, she could almost hear them cut through the air. Not flaming arrows this time, but rather glowing, starlit beams. With pinpoint precision, they snipped through the strands holding her prison aloft and, with a sickening lurch, she fell, screaming, into the steaming pile of charred corpses below. Their boiling fluids splattered everywhere on impact, searing her skin with stinking venom. She managed to shield her face from the worst of it and with strength borne of disgust and panic, she staggered to her feet and stumbled free from the filthy heap. She collapsed on the ground and gasped for air, tears of relief leaking from beneath her eyelids.
"...!"
Everything hurt. The venom fizzled against her skin. Her limbs were cramped and aching from being held immobile so long. She could hear the raw rasp of her own breath in the back of her dreadfully dry throat. Her lovely pink hair -which she had always been so proud of- was sticky with webbing and matted with sweat. It plastered uncomfortably all over her cheeks and was filled with fleshy debris. Her vision was fuzzy as she rose to her elbows and stared across the jagged, filthy floor. What was that? A pair of boots? Ah!
The Destroyer?
The Destroyer had saved her. Instead of piercing her through, he had not only spared her life, but rescued her as well! How fortunate for her!... and how strange that she thought of him this way. This was the expected behavior for any normal human, yet although The Destroyer looked and acted very much like a man, something primal within recognized him as a monster.
Get up!
She needed to flee. This monster might have helped her once, but there was no guarantee he wouldn't turn on her and tear her to pieces. Why had he helped her? She hadn't the faintest idea - and her survival instinct wasn't interested in finding out. Normally she was quite gracious, but now was not the time for pleasantries. She was a mouse in a lion's cage. Even if The Lion had spared her, it was by no means her friend.
She slowly raised herself to her elbows and craned her neck to look at him. What was he doing? Could she escape his notice? By some stroke of rotten luck, after falling from her cocoon and splashing into the spider's heap - she had crawled her way directly to The Destroyer's feet. He stared with a flat faraway gaze. His eyes were as cold and unfeeling as an insect's. The armour he wore was similarly alien and appeared warped with heat. Despite the fact he was standing amongst a rotting pile of filthy carnage, his armour was spotless... except for a single splotch of spider guts which stained his breastplate. Clearly, the stain had caused him a fair bit of distress. Even after flicking the debris away, he continued to polish at the spot long after every trace of spider had been erased.
A bit of a clean freak… neurotic perhaps.
This was her chance. The Destroyer's attention was completely focused on his armour, and chances were - if she could escape to the cave entrance without being noticed, she was free to go. Her joints groaned and her footing was shaky as she stood to her feet and took a few careful steps away from her rescuer. No reaction. If The Destroyer noticed her at all, he didn't show it. Clearly, he had no interest in her. He was dutifully plucking bits of dirt from his cloak's furry muff, and likely wouldn't have come after her even if she provoked him.
Good.
She let out a slow, bated breath and turned her back, stumbling her way across the smoking spider caves towards the blasted-open cave entrance. How was she going to get back to the surface? She wasn't sure. All she knew was she simply couldn't risk another interaction with The Destroyer. There was a dagger and a long tether of rope laying on the floor - articles from her fallen companions. She plucked them up before casting a final glance at The Destroyer. She thanked him silently in her heart and prayed to never see him again, then set her eyes forward to begin what would surely be a dark and perilous journey.
She stepped into the dark.
One pace.
Two Paces.
Three, and the smoky light which illuminated her path vanished. The flames of the spider caves had already been extinguished? Impossible. Had The Destroyer walled her off? Panicked, she whirled about, but her shaky knees wouldn't tolerate such strain. The torsion collapsed her to the ground where she fell face first into... a bed of soft, damp grass?
What?!
She gritted her teeth and raised her head, peering into the darkness and willing her eyes to adjust. This air… it wasn't the stale, dusty air of the underground! There was no lush grass in the caverns, and certainly not dew either. The cool droplets tickled her cheeks. A gentle breeze washed over her. A lightning bug flittered overhead. And… there, the light of a small settlement.
What a disgusting activity he'd been involved in. This whole business of 'Slaying' was unbearably filthy. Blood, guts, fluids, smoke, ash. It was everywhere. It was all over. He had a fair bit of difficulty avoiding it all - yet when he cut down the pink-haired woman from her webbed prison, her impact caused the debris to once again take flight. He had stood there, quivering in frustration, as his beautiful armour was soiled.
…
Alas, once he went home, he would dispose of this armour and put on a clean set. His unique duplication abilities were extremely helpful in this regard. Over the past several days, he had probably gone through several changes of clothes - not that anyone but himself would have noticed, as each newly created piece was exactly identical to the one it replaced. Still… he was here for a higher purpose. He would tolerate a bit of dirt to accomplish his goals. These spiders, he had encountered them before. Their venom was as painful as it was deadly, and surely their poison would serve him well in disposing of The Sea King.
Why use poison? Well, The Guide clearly didn't want to kill Amidas. Ideally, he didn't wish to upset his companion. Simply butchering the fishman wouldn't do. Was there any way he could avoid detection? To carry out this murder in a manner where The Guide wouldn't suspect him? Perhaps… but to do so, he would need to ...outsmart The Guide.
…
The very idea was demotivating.
Still, he would try. He was only jumping through hoops because he'd prefer for his friend not to be angry at him. The worst case scenario, he would simply drag The Sea King out of his bathtub and butcher him right there and then, then get yelled at for a bit. That was fine. He'd already prepared himself for a tongue lashing.
Charred carapaces crunched and spurted as he stepped up into the heap and plunged an arrow into a dead spider's abdomen. A sickly green fluid oozed out. He could tell it's potency by the smell. He produced a bottle and began collecting the viscous fluid.
This... would do quite nicely.
Stylist: Oh thank heavens, normal people. There was this awful alien creature in the caverns. He saved me from the spiders, but-
Guide: There there, don't worry about it. The monster won't find you here. Do you want something to eat?
St: oh, that would be fantastic. I'm starv-
Slayer: *appears*
St: *faints*
G: um.
Lmao, Stylist is gonna be my nice girl. She'll probably hit it off with The Nurse sometime soon. prolly sleep on her couch until Slayer stops being homocidal and decides to build some houses for the people he's collecting.
Notes: 1) T doesn't even know he's collecting people. Of everyone in the compound, he's probably the most oblivious. 2) Also bby's using his brain! yeee. 3) There are several times in the story where Slayer mentions Guide can read minds. Guide actually can't, but he's smart enough to guess what Slayer is thinking. 4) Amidas isn't a slouch either. EoC soon.
Leave me your thougts! :)