PHASE 1, A Blast from the Past. - RPLOG
From Flexible Survival
Participants
Date
2/9/2014
Log
The call came out of the Promethean encampment. Somewhere out there was a threat that had been decimating supply trains, with attacks that would not end until they were either limping off with heavy losses, or gone. Some never came back. Co-ordinating an effort with RSX and Zephyr to share the costs of an expedition, you were placed under jurisdiction as a Task-Force, with specialist rankings for each of your skill-sets and put in the field. Monitoring the situation while landing, your new companions eyeing you with questions in their eyes, who are you, why are you here, and what can you do. Mostly though, it's that uncomfortable silence that goes on while in travel, no-one saying a word till the chopper lands and leaves you behind, a small crate of supplies to the side with a weeks rations. Saluting you as they take off, the pilot tuns and flies back to the Zephyr building, steady and ready, beeping your comms twice as farewell. You're here, somewhere out in the city in a place that has been quarantined until the threat can be secured, or if need be, eliminated. Tall buildings rise at every side, the streets littered with huge sheets of broken glass from the effects of the weather, and then nanites eating the metal that held them in place. In some areas, it's like navigating a floor filled iwth razors. From above, fearful, hungry or feral faces look on, some openly fighting and slashing, great gouts of blood flowing before the enemies lock again, healing quickly from any damage but leaving parts of themselves behind. Lustful tremors occur from around you, as you see caral pleasure, sex and dominance, submission occuring in the dark corners, and screaming her pain, a Skunk-Girl is birthing a litter behind the dumpster. A fire burns bright this night, bathing the area in a glow, filled with peat and garbage, the brazier flares high and snarls and purrs rise and fall all at once on the dark wind.
A tall tauric bovine stretches out her limbs after the cramped helicopter ride. Thickly padded and barely clothed with a harness that does nothing to cover her modesty, a western saddle, and a collar with a large cowbell on it. "I've got a really bad feeling about this. I mean, I trust the Prometheans, they've taught me a lot about controling my urges, but I'm not sure I'm quite the right pick for this job," Cyrus says, grabbing the clapper on her cowbell with her index and middle finger. She rubs her nose with one of her hands, the scent of the skunks and their lust stinging her nostrils and effecting her weak willpower. "God, and these smells, I wish they weren't getting to me as much as they are." She turns to her companions and frowns. "If I lose it, please don't hestiate to take me down. I wouldn't want to put any of you in danger."
As Epsilon got leaded there, she first started to looks at the close surroundings, get familiar with what's going on at a first glance. Being a giant female Steel Hercules, she weights around 4 tons and measure around 6 meters, a good chunk coming from her huge milky cleavage, making her the tallest of the group. She wear her RSX armor, covering most of her chest and the back of her legs, being straped around the shoulders and the legs, and leave breasts nude if it wasn't for her colorful bra, not really meant for stealthiness but more for showing off her voluptous forms. She also wear her halberd, The Spur slasher, which shine more by the sheer weight of it and his creepy style, a dart gun packed with a few darts, more meant to scare than harm, and a black glove more meant to protect the others from what's inside, covering a hand bolstering very sharp claws, meant for killing.
By far the most normal sized of the group, at least she feels that way, the Husky known as Narg disembarks as she draws out her pistol. Her scent only adds to the lustful smells around as she hasn't taken care of her heat but she doesn't seem to be affected by the scents. Never the less some of the sights she catches are enticing and she has to shake her head clear. "Danger schmanger, I'm pretty sure we could handle it." She is dressed in what appear to be plain clothes but the clothing has been reinforced. Otherwise she carries anything that would be useful inside of her backpack.
An average looking wolf beast steps out of the transport, sporting a stuffed and worn, drab color from age, backpack. Looking him over, it is quite clear it's a 'him', being very oversexed, and looking all too fitting for the current environment the team finds themselves in. Looking at the comm transponder lists him as 'First name: Randel, Last name: of Zephyr'... a rather odd last name. Looking over the beast, there are subtle hints of being different from the average feral that is out here. His paw pads are black, currently, making a soft 'tat' sound as it steps on the debris over the ground. He doesn't seem to notice any sharp shards he happens to step on, despite being otherwise barefoot. Claw tips are black, and glass-like. "Well, back on patrol again..." he sighs. He glances over to Cyrus and answers bluntly, "Ok. I hope you aren't too creeped out from waking up from a broken neck. It's the easiest way I've found to stop most, when able to that is..." Seeing how sexual the place is, and how overly lewd Randel is, it isn't hard to figure out how he developed the way he did. When hearing Narg's statement, he smiles and says, "Alright.." and offers a high five.
A large Solar dragon steeps off the chopper, clad from head to toe in a high tech looking heavy combat armor. Standing about 17 feet tall, mirror like golden scales cover hir arms, in hir hand shi holds a modified laser rifle, nestled between hir gleaming wings is a large ruck sack, holding hir various gear. The dragon's large regal head moves from side to side, before hir sun hued gaze falls on the Steel Hercules. "Hey Epsilon, it is me Seguro. It is good to see you again, given the look of things you strength will be greatly needed."
Core is a slightly heavyset blonde woman in a light combat vest, with shorts and work jacket and boots. She is wearing ear hoops and bears a void totem; a bulky, crude-looking laser rifle is strapped to her back, in a terribly inconvenient and difficult-to-access position. Core is studying a Power Gator with a pensive, even worried, expression. She slips the beverage into a pocket of her jacket and looks up, half-smiling and waving weakly to those gathered here. "I hope some of you are some kinda ultimate warriors or something. I'm pretty much a mechanic, and they wouldn't let me bring my absurd flying doohickeys. I am not sure why the Prometheans are allowing me to be here at... at all." She half-smirks grimly during that last sentence, as though she is telling a private off-color joke, and coughs.
The noises of the night are overpunctuated by the screams of the birthed kits, now scrambling over the woman, lying in a puddle of her own filth and snuggling them to herself, tongue busy licking each and every one of them and then herself, taking up all the residue while her six children settle in to nurse, one to a nipple. From off in the distance you see a glint, like eyes in the dark, looking at you, and hear a soft, dark reverbrating growl, that travels through your bones and leaves you with a shiver, the sounds of the night stopping, punctuated only by the screams of the newborns who huddle in fear, and their new mother, desperately scrambling to gether them all up and run. Weaving back and forth, a flash of glowing teeth and roar as it jumps, aiming away from you and to the left, the huge crunch of concrete and glass, unseen but heard, and felt from all the thrown weight hits you in your soles, as shivers. Not making it out, you get shocked again and again as it jumps, a shadow in moonlight as it hits building after building, sending pieces into the street before hitting the lower rooftops, and then, it's out of sight but for the screams in the distance. Around you the children cry, a fight breaking out between two dog-beasts to the right, the males vying for dominance and from an alley a sheep-girl bleats, approached by a tigress. There is a wet scent on the air now though, so very, very strong. Blood. Heavy, and in a very, very large amount.
Cyrus grimaces and rubs the back of her neck at the thought, whimpering softly, but nodding. "I suppose a broken neck's better than being filled with holes or hurting any of you," she murmurs before turning around to check her saddle bags. "Sorry Core, despite what my size might, afraid I'm not much of a fighter..." She pulls out her triage kit and slings it over her right shoulder before hooking her bottle of liquid bandage to her harness. She turns back to look at her allies. "I'll do my best to make sure you're all healthy as long as I can though. Between my training, supplies, and what my mutations offer I should be able to keep you relatively healthy. Oh, if anyone feels like they need to you're welcome to climb up on my saddle. Except for you Ep, you're-" She gasps and jumps backwards at the beast lurking in the shadow, the thick coppery scent hiding the scent of lust and making her stomach turn. Looking at the brawl over the sheep-girl she grimaces and turns to her associates. "Shouldn't we do something to help her? We can't just stand here and let that poor thing get attacked."
Epsilon hears Seguro's talk and notices the golden dragon. "Oh Seguro. You're here too? Good to know you're alongside us then. I'm pretty sure your skills would be of a great help too.". Then she see Cyrus' seemingly getting uneasy as she lay her left hand (Non-gloved), on the cow's shoulder. "Don't worry... you're with me. Just call me your shield if it help... okay?". Then looking again at the surroundings, she grab her dart gun and ready a few darts in it, ready to shoot. She advice to everyone, "Stay sharp, everyone".
Narg gives Randel a highfive and looks about to say something to him in reply before she is distracted by the sudden sound of the beast darting around... was that wwhat they were here to find? Irregardless she looks off to the side towards the sheep and then a look at the tiger to see just what it was doing. "I'[d say we find what we came here to find and help if the sheep really needs it."
Randel's brief smile from the high-five leaves with what little calm there was in the air. "Oh crap..." he quietly says when hearing the local wild life become more active. He quickly snaps his head around at the group, honestly a bit surprised for a moment before saying, "Right, huh.. Normally I'm alone out here, but from experience, we can't just stop and help every feral person that's being predated. Believe me, I've tried.. Was actually a fun few days when.." he closes his eyes and shakes his head a bit and gets back on topic, "Ok, first, we need a secure base of op's. Personally, I like a place I can sleep where there is minimal chance of getting either ass raped, or neck bitten off. Let's look for..." His monolog gets derailed when feeling something getting too close for comfort. His reaction is more, basic, and fitting of his current form. His fur on his neck and upper back fluffs up and spikes, and stars staring down anything that's getting close and growls, and barks if the threat gets really close. He readjusts his backpack to a more solid tie, and drops to all fours and paces around, between the group and whatever is out there.
Seguro gives a smile to epsilon, as the dragon gives Epsilon's hand shi replies to the agent. "I don't think that the dart gun will be of much use, sadly it will only work against that one nanite strain. It would have no effect on normal feral mutants." The dragon's form begins to fade from sight under the effects of hir camouflage power, the light itself bending around hir form as water flows around a rock, now a little more than a distortion of light. Seguro turns to the rest of the group in a quiet whisper. "Something is coming; I have a feeling we should try and get the lay of the land before it finds us, whatever it is we don't want to be found out in the open when it gets here. I will be taking to the air to scout ahead; I will keep you apprised of what I see over the coms." With leap and a flap of hir great wings, Seguro takes to the air, circling to gain height, looking down upon the city below.
Core takes a step back reflexively as - whatever it is - makes its presence known. "Ah! Right, RIGHT, they've allowed me to come here so I'd be KILLED, how silly of me not to reali - " She backpedals rather heavily into the wall of the nearest building and yelps in surprise at the contact, leaping forward. She starts to scramble for cover, then slows and just stands awkwardly. "Okay... it's gone. Yeah, I think it's gone. Uh." She looks around at the others sheepishly - then screws up her face. "I assume the rest of you can smell that, if /I/ can. That... that is a lot of blood." Suddenly more curious than frightened, she grits her teeth and creak-crack-bonesnaps as she gains height, ending up as one of those dragon-wolf-thing Talakai. Even before the change is done, she is sniffing intently at the air. "Where the heck is that coming from?"
The screams don't die down but intensify (Everyone roll me your Survival) sounding like they come from many directions at once because of the echo. There's an otherworldly quality and now silences again nearby with the running sound of mutants scurrying and outright fleeing for their own good. Ahead of you the sound seems to rebound, but you stand here in the light not moving and waiting. A fresh cold breeze sends leaves skittering in the street, now empty and void, thunder in the distance confusing things further as a light spatter of frigid rain strokes your cheek with the touch of death. Cold burns into your soul, and fear scratches with the coming threat of combat. (+roll willpower)
Cyrus presses a hand to her chest and furrows her brow, her skin crawling at the thought of leaving the unfortunate soul to fend for herself. She felt she had little choice though as she turns to Epsilon and bleakly shakes her head. "I'm more afraid for your lives than my own. I don't want to die, but above all else I don't want anyone to die for my sake, or die because..." Her widen and her mouth gapes open as she looks down at her collar, realizing she had let go of the clapper on her bell while she was getting out her supplies. She quickly claps a hand over it to silence it, but her body begins to tremble as the chilling presence approaches. Tears form in her eyes as she collapses to the ground. "Oh God, I... I've doomed us all." She knocks a balled up fist against her head as she berates herself, "You, stupid, fucking, cow. You, should, have, said, no."
Epsilon nods at Seguro as she couldn't grab it and force hir down as shi disappear in the sky, "Just stay in contact... okay?". Then She firmly stand in front of Cyrus and tries to shake softly the cow so she snap out of her state, "Come on there! It's not the place to ponder such things! Snap out of it already!". Then, having also noticed something wrong's lurking around, she put her gun back, and place herself in a defensive stance, her right arm back to say that she's under her own protection. Then she states their situation, "While it would be good a make a plan in a safer place, we can't get just leave Cyrus here. She's not herself... and that... thing... Don't split us guys.", as she looks around more carefully, trying to spot whatever is around.
Narg has been in situations like this before and she starts to slip into the shadows, while that won't get rid of her smell she definately would be out of sight and maybe get in a position to cause an early strike. The husky will skirt the group as an outer picket sort of action so she might be able to give out warning as she keeps her weapon at the ready. "Shhh, quiet, we need to listen..."
Randel paces around, roughly between where the threat is coming from and the group and supplies. A mental voice, likely unintentionally spooking a few, growls at the person scouting the area {{Don't stray too far. This is feels like this is outside my usual field of expertise.}} Seeing others hiding, and some panicking, he gives an annoyed growl to himself and shift form. Fur fluffs and blows away as a sound of what can only be described as forming or growing crystal can be barely heard. What is left is a winged, midnight black dragon pacing around, before trotting towards the opposite side of Narg, to try to get a semblance of a strategic position. His flat black scales make it hard to spot in the growing darkness.
Randel becomes a Shadow Dragon!
Seguro shivers a bit as a chill runs through hir body, the wet rain chilling the dragon to the hir core. Hovering high above the city shi tries to see what danger is the loud thudding poses to hir team. The dragon winces as a blood curdling screams can be heard from the city below , at hir very core shi feel a small tinge of fear, but just for a moment the warm tingle of explainer energy streamed from hir patron snaps hir back to reality ,
Core ducks behind the corner of a building, eyes darting and looking a bit frantic. Her eye color turns a deep, dull black, with a trace of red. Mild, shimmering waves of heat - the literal, temperature-based kind - emanate from her, and there's a little bit of electric crackle as well. She grips the building corner firmly, claws digging and scratching into the material. "It's here. It's still here, somewhere." She sniffs at the air again, hackles raised, baring her teeth unconsciously. "Maybe we'll get lucky!" she says, half to herself. "Maybe it'll just want its television set fixed and then it will go away forever. I can do that. No sweat."
Seguro's voice calls over the com unit, something is eating human sized mutants, I think the disturbance seems to becoming from a building much farther ahead, that place reeks of blood.
The crack of your comms booms into the silence, with a shrill beep that preceeds the whoosh of wind and Seguros voice thrown loudly into your ear as he shouted his call, your radiometers (+roll Survival) telling you where to go to be where Seguro is now. Shivering faces are seen here and there and the screams seem to have changed in pitch and tone, still coming from the distance but echoing oddly. Nothing here has changed, at all, but then, where do you go?
Cyrus lifts her head and quickly scrambles to her hooves, latching onto Epsilon's arm, fear of being behind left overwhelming her. Her breathing is heavy and eratic, the strange sound of Randel's voice in her head doing little to calm her, but she tries to keep quiet as she tries calming herself. "I... I'm sorry, all of these smells and noises... the nanites didn't built for this kind of thing," she says to the tall steel hercules. She closes her eyes and lets out one last exhale, not calm in the least, but letting her nanites do the breathing for her so she's not quite so loud. It does make speaking difficult, but with her large lungs keeping her volume low was hard enough as it was. Remembering her own nanites after feeling Core's heat on her hide, she focuses her own to keep her self warm, though her erect bare nipples seem to care very little, dripping heavily scented milk into the air. Seguro's message makes her squeeze tighter on Epsilon's arm, but her empty lungs keep her quiet. She hated that her fear had made her so useless and the burden it put on her allies, but maybe she could be some help to anyone who got hurt. She obviously hoped no one would get hurt, but what else could she do?
Epsilon was looking around, following carefully the noises from the buildings, trying to know what they were with theirs noises. She whisper to Cyrus, ignoring the smell of her milk, "Stay with me... okay?". As she slowly back off, toward the given coordinates, her arm grabbed by the cow, all while she was following with her eyes the moving forms. She then talks through the comm, "I can't quite tells what they are, but they may be changing, so ready yourselves for anything.".
Narg has no idea what is ahea, but she isn't going to let her unerve her... her breath coming to a complete standstill as she stalks through the old rain unaffected. Her eyes peek out towards Randel's position and then back towards the others as her ears swivel warily around. Her duster tails drag over water silently, her sounds only punctuated by the occasional splash of her foot hitting a puddle by accident.
Randel steps out of cover, stunned, trying to get a visual from his spot of Seguro. "No! NOO!" he roars angrily, "Fuck NO! What the fuck is it, what the BLOODY fuck is it?!" Something about the report has him up at arms. You'd think with the way he is acting Seguro said whatever it is just ate his parents or something. In all honestly, it might as well have. He's a feral researcher, he knows what kind of people are out here, what humanity is left in these ruins. Sure ferals eat each other, and spill each other's' blood, but to have them totally eaten and killed, for real; his empathy just can't accept such a thing. Also, he's likely scared shitless like the rest of them, and is holding onto what works for him, with apparently is utter rage. He looks himself over, noticing he's 'human sized' and growls at himself at the vulnerableness that gives him. The size doesn't stay as he pulls off his backpack, almost rips open the contents and chugs down quite a bit of something white and glowing, nanites. He softly tosses the bag to one side, rubs his muzzle and looks towards where.. whatever the hell is facing them, and grows in size. If looks could kill...
Seguro stays within eye shot of hir team, using hir birds eye view, to give hir commands them early warning of what trouble my come their way. As the dragon reaches the building, Shi circles it high above it hoping to spy something shi can relay to hir team.
Core looks down at her comm unit, back up at the street, and sighs, fearful but resigned. "Well, okay, here goes then. If anybody needs a once-over on their equipment or something, I did bring my tools. At least maybe I'd be useful somehow, who knows." She shrugs. "Speaking of which..." she fiddles with the radiometer, trying to see if she can coax some better (or just interesting) results from the equipment, as she tags along.
Having moves spaces to the West, you feel it. A sickening cold that starts to burn almost like fire rolls over your skin and leaves dangerous frosts behind. The effect slows you down, and makes it hard to focus before it breaks with a wave of heat that feels like it should burn after the recent cold, though it's only ten degrees above the freezing line. You "look here" and see the buildings move by as you walk carefully in the glass-strewn lanes, obvious passages cleared and used often by the local wildlife leave you littel options of how to get where you want to go without going /into/ the nearby buildings, where eyes look out at you and teeth gleam, the occasional fight and terrified snarl come out at you. The scent is definitely following the wind, and you are closer. Above you towers a sign, telling you your options of where to go, though the source is rather close.
Cyrus steps behind Epsilon, Randel's outburst making her very visibly quake as she tries hiding behind the towering Steel Hercules, probably the only thing she could actually hide behind out here... except for the now massive Randel who actually only serves to terrify Cyrus even more. So skittish, she wonders if maybe he was the one giving off the cold. She grips tightly to Epsilon's carapace, her eyes closed and ears flat against her head, trying desperately to avoid hearing anything but her comm. She takes a small breath of air and brings another one of her four hands to the bell, two hands squeezing it as she whimpers, "I wish Love were here."
Epsilon moves herself a bit, standing behind her rather than in front of her, to wrap her arm around her and warm her more against the chilling cold that seemingly followed them. As she looks at Randel, Epsilon says, "Great... Now there's another giant here.". Trying to steel her mind against fears, she remove her glove from her right hand, showing her vicious claws, and grab her halberd easily, despite the weight of the weapon and wait for instructions from Seguro.
The black, and now large, draconic beast steps forward, focused on ripping out the throat of whoever this feral eater is. He stops for a moment, shielding himself as cold hits him and threatens to bite at him. This ticks Randel off even more, and amazingly enough, he has a counter for the chill as well. As if powered by his rage, the air around him fills with heat and energy, fighting back the cold as best it can, and also trying to protect those around him.
