The True Measure of a Hero (Open RP)
Gilda jumped in surprise when Mortanis suddenly seemed to start having some kind of fit.
"Hey, what's wrong," she shouted at him, kneeling down and trying to hold him still, though being careful not to get too close. She still didn't know just what kind of meta he was, and if he had superstrength he could very well snap her bones with a wave of his hand.
Another loud crash sounded from the interior of the building, making her look away from the man on the floor. In talking to Mortanis, she'd quite forgotten that there were four more of those men in there after PJ.
She tried shaking him, hoping whatever this was would soon pass. From what she saw at the door, she'd be no match for the other agents. She'd need Mortanis' help if she was going to save PJ.
From the storm of his raging fit, Mortanis felt something was wrong in the real world. He could feel turmoil, feel fear.
My will is not to be hindered.
Mortanis used what consciousness he had left to give himself up to the Netherworld, to make himself a temporary gate for his minions. His seizure ceased as the power flowed through his veins, his whole body seeming to be covered with ethereal colors of black and purple. He began to rise, not on his feet, but into the air itself, the toes of his boots touching the ground. His limp body began to move, his head rising till he saw the men in front of him.
Those men... familiar... enemies...
He roared as his undead warped in from his own flesh, leaving the gate that was his core.
"Svagthose... kill... the... men." Whispered Mortanis in a cold and papery thin voice.
"By your will it shall be so."
And with those final words, Mortanis slumped to the floor, his energy completely gone. His breathing was slow, heartbeat faint.
Svagthose resumed command of the undead, preparing for a bitter fight.
Etherburn watches silently as the two men jump through the open skylight. Without a thought she began to hover, her hair dancing around her head due to the essence that allows her flight. She coasts gracefully to the skylight and slips silently through it.
She hovers above Bladewolf as he scans for Council. She turns her attention to the vigilant Templar, admiring the gleaming, deadly beauty of his sword.
She concentrates on Templar, summoning the other fire within. A divine warmth crawls through her, caressing with a heavenly touch. A clam serenity fills her as the healing fire waits for her command. She reaches a gloved hand out towards Templar, a look of utter peace and benefiction on her face. A wave of golden fire washes over Templar, coating his armor with a soft golden fire as it molds to his shape, forging a fiery silouette. Etherburn smiles gently, serenely as the strange, divine fire strengthens Templar.
Her healing flames always felt different then the other fire that ran through her viens. One was a wild, white-hot, destructive force blazing through her with a thrilling rush. The other was a comforting warmth, gentle and loving, with a divine serenity to it. The healing flames always left her awed somehow and breathless. The other fire always made her sassy and sharp-tongued. She could never figure out why her power seemingly was a double aspect.
She gracefully guides her hand to Bladewolf and encases him with the divine warmth of her fire. Still smiling softly, Etherburn warps a sheild of barely noticed plasma around each man, adding to their natural armor.
She hovers barely a tip-toe off of the catwalk, glancing ahead towards the computer console, face turning serious as the healing fire dissapates from her.
" We should see what they see. Those comps might let us know what they've got going on," she replies almost breathlessly, voice barely above a whisper.
She concentrates for a moment, tropical ocean colored eyes going distant for a moment.
She blinks and shakes her head, before staring at Templar and Bladewolf.
"We need to hurry to the computers. There's alot of commotion going on. Time may be against us," she whispers softly, nodding towards the console.
[ QUOTE ]
Svagthose resumed command of the undead, preparing for a bitter fight.
[/ QUOTE ]
And just in time too, as two of the agents came barreling through a nearby door, silver weapons blazing. But oddly enough, they weren't advancing on Gilda and Svagthose. In fact, in the next second it became quite clear that they were retreating.
From the door they'd just came through, someTHING came spewing forth after them. A Lovecraftian horror; whipping tendrils black as tar, nashing teeth everywhere. Every now and then a recognizable shape would appear within the thing; a mouth, a head, glaring white eyes, clawing hands. And then just as quickly, they'd be gone again, swallowed up by the surging mass of sludge.
Bits of the other agents were still being carried along with it. One's torso and head were still hanging, impaled upon one of the whipping tendrils. The two remaining agents continued to fire relentlessly at the creature, and while it still endeavored to tear them to pieces, it flinched and roared at every blast from the silver weapons.
The warmth of Etherurn's incredible powers filled Templar but what may have come as a small shock to her, she may have actually felt instead of just healing the him, she may in fact felt his very existence! He was not ordinary by any means, intriguing in fact. Still the job was ahead. They all could see the computer consoles they had to get to, but Templar was suspicious. He whispered, "Where is everyone? Shouldn't there be somebody at those consoles?" He tensed up sensing perhaps a trap. Carefully he moved forward to the end of the catwalk looking all over for any sign of the enemy until he saw a small gathering of Council near another set of computers near the north side of the room. He pointed them out. Using his senses and his almagam of centuries of combat knowledge and tactics he then huddled with his two companions and whispered again, "I can sense those Council members are quite powerful; this will not be easy, but if we take them quickly, we may be able to make this section our own little temporary headquarters. There appears to be only two exits to this room, we will have to monitor them closely and be prepared to seal them off quickly. Bladewolf stay tight with me in melee, Ether, cover us from above and keep giving us status reports from your better position. So Mote It Be!"
With the remaining synthetics distracted by the beast, the undead were able to take advantage of a quick closing of the distance between them and their targets. As silver guns blazed, black bolts fired back. The shields served their purpose, blocking as many shots as possible while regaining strength from Svagthose and his mastery of the Nether. Mortanis, on the other hand, still lay comatose on the floor, not having moved since he fell save for a slight rise and fall in his chest. To an untrained eye he might be in a coma, but Mortanis was in fact in a state of "hibernation" while his energy reserves were filled again to the point when he could regain bodily functions. That would take anywhere from five minutes to five hours.
Taken by surprise, the remaining agents didn't last very long. Between the attacks from the undead and the creature that was pursuing them, it wasn't long before they lay on the floor, the blue liquid leaking from their wounds.
With its primary enemies down, the creature immediatly snapped its attention to Svagthose and the others. The thing seemed as if it wanted to attack, the tendrils whipping about, smaller mouths forming to snap in their direction. But it stayed where it was for the moment.
It suddenly began to stretch outward from the middle, forming a lump that split in half, razor teeth appearing out of nowhere from the black, tacky-like substance. The newly formed, larger mouth began to speak, its voice a deep, rasping sound.
"Who are you," the creature demanded. "Dead flesh, rotting meat. You attack the Sockets. You attack us now?" The question seemed to almost be a dare as the creature swelled a bit in size.
The Mighty Templar stood at the farthest end of the catwalk that he could; he then looked at the height of the ceiling and the distance needed for his jump. He did some quick calculations, drew his sword quietly and then took his "leap of faith". The leap was well done, his mental caculations nearly right on, his landing just about right where he wanted it to go: nearly right behind one of the two captains there (he had made sure to land at the man's side rather than at his back, after all he wanted to maintain his honor) and took a mighty swing. The beautiful and deadly sword nearly took off the Captain's arm and right shoulder. The Council captain shrieked with pain then was silenced as Templar's sword had buried itself deep within the body, and Templar simply pulled the sword straight through dismembering the hapless captain.
The Council members around him were totally caught off guard and quite stunned by the bold attack. It was exactly what Templar wanted, he wanted to open the door for his comrades to do their parts... he knew at that moment that they had the advantage.
His directive completed as the "Sockets" were eliminated, Svagthose and the undead could support no answer before they were once again whooshed to their home on the other side. The still body of Mortanis lay prostrate on the ground, helpless if anyone was determined to end his unlife. In his comatose state Mortanis could "feel" what was happening around him, but by neither sight nor sound was the world around him able to penetrate his hibernation. His eyelids were shut, and yet the eyes themselves fluttered beneath, back and forth.
That Arachnos soldier, why did I say those things? I know that I haven't seen a real woman in over three years, but still! Oh, God, if only I could get my hands on them. Charles, the solution, her from so long ago...
By the rate of his recovery, Mortanis would wake in around an hour from the time that the beast spoke. More than enough time for a calculated stroke, a shot to the head...
The creature regarded the seemingly helpless man on the ground. Its main mouth stretched down to within inches of him, the railroad spike sized teeth jutting out at every angle. The thing seemed to consider for a moment or two before backing off and suddenly turning its attention to Gilda.
The soldier had been riveted to the spot, watching as the monster had examined Mortanis. Now she barely had time to yelp in surprise as the black shape whipped toward her. It took barely a second for the black substance to wrap around her, swallowing her up from sight.
With a mighty surge the creature shot up through a crack in the ceiling toward the roof.
An hour later...
Mortanis awoke alone inside the building which had seen so much attention in so little time. He braced himself against a wall as he stood, and scoured the room for the Arachnos woman. He could not find her. Damn it!!!! Now look what you've done! She saw your dramatics and now she has run away! Wasn't it odd how much she looked like Megan? How long ago was it when she left? Mortanis slumped back to the floor at the thought. Maybe those androids got to her, maybe some more heroes. Or worse, Arachnos itself. Mortanis banged his fists on the ground and swore some more. In his anger he began to break most of the things he could find; chairs, bottles, it didn't matter. After the splinters from a wooden stool dropped to the floor something caught his eye. A very small amount of dark viscous material was present around the room. He calmed down and began to study the trail at hand. Something moved from the door leading into other rooms to where he lay in his state. Mortanis glanced towards his suit, and more of this stuff was on himself. He saw a little puddle were the woman was standing when he had his fit, but something was amiss. He watched as a drop fell from overhead into the puddle, and jerked his head upward to see more of the black coming from a crack in the ceiling. Mortanis levitated off his feet and gently rose towards the crack...
(Seeing as none has posted for some time, I'll give some insight on to the inner workings of Mortanis.)
As he continued his search for the missing Arachnos soldier, Mortanis's thoughts began drifting to his past life, before he was this monstrosity that made a normal life filled with work and of course, romance, impossible. It was over three years ago...
He used to be someone important, someone that was looked upon. He, Jonas Reaga, was the top scientist in the field of time/space relationships. The modern era offered so much technologically advanced topics, and he worked without remorse. The cost for the machines involved was tremendous, but with corporate sponsorships and his seven figure salary he was covered. Jonas was a scientist who kept to himself, save for his partner Hal and the woman he loved, Megan. His secrecy was in part to keep his success. Give Jonas a problem and three days without observance, and he'll fix it. Should others discover his lack of protocol he would have been ruined. He wasn't a bad man, he just believed that in order to make the great leaps forward in science, certain sacrifices would have to be made. It all started with a reporter...
Jonas moved around his office, pacing in order to keep his mind on the task at hand. However, a year ago he made an oath to himself that he would propose to Megan, and he had three weeks before that time was up. He loved her more than she knew, more than she could know. She saw him every Thursday, when she, Jonas, Hal and his wife would have dinner out. They laughed and joked, talked about every topic that they could think of. Megan worked in the D.A.'s office at Atlas Park, and she had recently been staying late to finish up on paperwork. Today. I will do it today. Jonas filled the papers on his desk and proceeded out of his office. "Hey Hal, I gotta take five. Cover for me?"
"Sure man. Hey, are doing what I think your doing?"
"Today is the day."
"In that case, good luck."
"Thanks Hal." Jonas took the stairs down to the parking lot and found his silver Mustang waiting. He drove to a local flower shop and paid $30 for a bouquet of red roses. His trip then took him towards the high end sector of town, in which he purchased a 20 karat diamond ring, the stone laid on a platinum band. He placed the ring inside one of the roses. Careful not to lose that rose, he drove over to the office of the D.A. With his confidence quavering, his heart racing, he stepped inside.
"Hello, I'm looking for Megan Wells. Can you tell me where I can find her?" Jonas noticed the secretary was busy with her nails and waited for an answer.
"I am sorry sir, but she cannot be reached right now. May I take a message?"
"Yes. Tell her that Jonas Reaga would like to ask her something very important."
The secretary typed something into her keyboard and motioned towards several chairs in the lobby. Jonas took a seat and waited. He checked his watch. The time was 4:30.
She should be off any second now.
He checked his watch. 5:00.
5:15
6:00
Jonas was able to muster up his courage and asked again where he could find Miss Wells.
"She isn't able to be reached today. It's her day off."
Day off?
"Please, it's very urgent."
"Ok, but this isn't strictly our policy. She went to Chamille, that restaurant on 23 street."
"Thank you."
When he arrived, the time was 6:35. In he went with the flowers and ring, in he went with his hopes and dreams. He found her at a booth by herself, looking at a menu. He went over.
"Hey Megan!" She looked up, surprised to see him.
"Jonas, what are you doing here?"
He began to sweat, but kept his cool. He put it frankly.
"I came to ask you if you would marry me."
Her eyes grew wide, tears began to fall down her softly paled cheeks.
"Megan, what's wrong" Jonas was feeling uneasy.
"Oh Jo, I'm so sorry." her speech was beginning to falter. "I never thought..." she wiped her face."I've met someone."
Now it was Jonas's turn to weep.
"But... you said... I was a great guy, I was a good friend."
"You are, you are, but you are just a friend. I didn't know you felt that way about me." Megan averted her gaze from the now broken man standing before her. "Please, don't make this harder than it is. I want us to still be friends. You have been so good to me. You and Hal. Charles knows me, he... I'm so sorry."
Jonas dropped the flowers, dropped the ring, dropped his life. He left the restaurant devoid of hope and full of sorrow. Tears streaked a trail to his car. How... was it me? Did I drive her away with my work? What did I do wrong? He flipped the radio on, and heard the one thing he didn't want to hear.
"And on that note, the D.A. has announced his retirement. His successor is none other then the talented rising lawyer Charles Henderson."
Jonas wanted his life to end.
And it did, didn't it. But enough of the past, let's find whatever took Miss Arachnos. I'll enjoy watching as the life slowly leaves it's body.
After escaping through the ceiling, the creature had stopped to rest on the roof. The trail it was leaving wasn't normal, but a result of the agents' weapondry. The silver guns were effective against just about anything, but they were tailor-made for the creature and they were quite effective.
Once it felt a little better, it slunk down the building to investigate the car. It found no additional agents or anything else useful. The thing seemed to look around as though checking for anyone watching before whipping tendrils out to pull it from the ground and toward the roof of a neighboring building.
Again it slunk inside, coming to rest on the top floor. The thing swelled itself up, actually forming rudimentary legs and arms. There was a swirling around its middle and Gilda suddenly reappeared from within the monster's mass.
The Arachnos soldier could not describe what had happened when she was set apon by the creature. She'd had thought she would have suffocated inside the thing, but though she couldn't breath, it didn't seem she'd had to.
She'd also been slightly aware of what the monster had been doing, getting vague moments of vision through its "eyes", like looking through fogged glass. There was also the whispering that seemed to come from all around her and from the inside of her own head all at once.
But now, as she was expelled out onto the dusty floor, her senses returned to normal and her chest once again rose and fell in time with her breathing. She was shaking as she looked up at the thing standing over her, more from the shock of her experience than fear of the monster.
The creature made no move toward her. In fact, it seemed to be regarding her, as though trying to decide what to say. Gilda was a forceful type of person, however, so she decided to take the initiative.
"What are you?" she managed to say, her voice a little unsteady. The creature continued to look at her, still seeming unsure of what to say.
"We don't know," it finally replied, in the same deep, rasping voice. "Other meat have called us the Murker."
Gilda pricked up at this. Most people who hung around Faultline for any length of time had heard stories of the Murker. It was an urban legend amongst the homeless of the place, describing some sort of monster that lived in the sewers and alleys of the city, feeding on anything that was careless enough to wander close to it.
Gilda had dismissed the stories as nothing more than tall tales, but now here it stood before her. Her hand instinctively reached for her sidearm only to find the holster empty. Seeing her actions, the Murker raised its hand toward her. Gilda's gun slowly emerged from the tacky-like substance that made up the monster. It showed it to her, as if to prove that she was utterly defenseless, before absorbing it back into its palm.
((OOC: I hope all is ok with everyone))
Mortanis saw that rupture was not large enough for him to squeeze through, plus he hated small spaces, so he went out the front door and flew to the rooftop. He saw no sign of whatever took her. Wait a second, what in the name of... On a nearby building he saw... well, it was hard to describe what It was. More importantly he saw the woman. She appeared unharmed by the thing but was also defenseless. Mortanis decided to make a point of his existence and flew over to the mass.
He directed his next comment towards the woman, but kept his eyes on whatever the thing was in front of him. "You are becoming quite popular today, Miss. I'm sorry, but last time we met I didn't catch your name." His fists began to glow a menacing black...
Etherburn hovers silently, the fury of her fire dancing through her veins in anticapation. An aura of heat waveres around her body.
She watches intently as Templar leaps gracefully for his size and mass towards the Captain. The fire flares happily within her as Templar swiftly, deftly dismemebers the Councilman. Etherburn smiles the fire's joy as the Captain's life force spills across the catwalk.
She reaches up and slides her blast googles down as the aura of heat intensifies around her. She forms a ball of flame in her hand and hurls it with deadly accuracy at the group.
A flash of light illuminates the area breifly before the crackle of explosive fire is heard. Etherburn smiles smugly as the deadly flames dance and lick at the soilders with red-hot intensity. They yelp and squirm as the fire devours their clothing and melts all objects on them, especially thier radios.
Shock paints the Council's faces as they feebly try to pat out the flames.
Etherburn laughs softly at the soilder's pathetic crys as she summons more fire into her hands. She flings the fire out towards the group. A rain of fire covers the area. The air virtually hisses as the raining fire cuts through it, pouring more burning pain onto the soliders.
" Don't worry boys. It's only gonna get hot under the collar for the Council," she assures Templar and Bladewolf with a good-humored smile.
[ QUOTE ]
"You are becoming quite popular today, Miss. I'm sorry, but last time we met I didn't catch your name." His fists began to glow a menacing black...
[/ QUOTE ]
"Gilda Ferris," she answered once she'd gotten over the initial shock of his sudden reappearance. "And I think it's more of a case of 'wrong time, wrong place' actually." The sudden whirlwind of events that had taken place after her initial rescue by PJ were leaving even the hardened soldier a little disoriented.
Meanwhile, the Murker didn't seem to be taking the interruption too well. It didn't move to attack yet, but its previously solid limbs were now in a state of constant irritation.
The arms seemed to flex and burst apart, strands of the muck latching onto the ground for a second before snapping back up to reform the arm once again. The legs were in a similar state; feet doubling in size one minute only to fold back on themselves the next into little more than a large stump. A second later they'd be reshaped only to contort again in the next moment.
The substance that made up the creature seemed to be layered, strands upon strands, making it look as though it were made of writhing black muscle.
"You were the one with the rotting meat," it growled at Mortanis, the tooth-laden head elongating slightly as it talked. "Why do you follow us?"
[ QUOTE ]
"You were the one with the rotting meat," it growled at Mortanis, the tooth-laden head elongating slightly as it talked. "Why do you follow us?"
[/ QUOTE ]
Mortanis was puzzled by this creature's ability for cognitive thought. Puzzled and intrigued. Perhaps a mutation, an experiment. Or maybe one also tainted by the Netherworld...
"I came for Gilda, not you." Mortanis was unsure of what he would do if the creature became overly hostile, so he tried diplomacy. It was something he was very good at. "I am not going to harm her, or you for that matter, as long as I am not provoked. What is your business with Miss Ferris?"
Mortanis was feeling very weary, and very agitated. His trail of Templar and his companions was getting cold, and so were his chances of obtaining the cure. I will not abandon you to their hypocritical justice. I will not abandon you to their treatments, cures, and "rehabilitation". When I find you, I will kill every single man or women in that place. And then we can continue our search for him. I just need time, Haliphar, I just need time...
The trial was quite the fiasco, wasn't it? All those men and women, shouting, yelling about how Hal and I were "unstable". How we had done illegal experimentation and research. We were deemed unfit for life with humans. And who was it that happened to be the prosecution but Mr. Henderson himself.
They put us into the custody of the state of Paragon. In turn we were handed like cattle over to Longbow for for incarceration. Three years living in that Hell-hole. Three years in the Zig. And that is why you hate them so, isn't it Jonas? Because all of those people responsible for your imprisonment had no idea what you had done. Because they feared you, and Haliphar, it was their duty to save society from your tainting presence. Hypocrites. And ever since you have made it a hobby to hunt down every single individual who had a hand in that affair, from the jury members, to the judge, the reporters, and my greatest hope to be fulfilled, Charles. That, and the Longbow organization itself.
How long can we last, Jonas? How long before one of us is killed? Once you have eliminated Charles, what will you do? I guess we will see when the time comes. After that, the ghosts of the past should depart. Now, back to the moment at hand...
[ QUOTE ]
"I am not going to harm her, or you for that matter, as long as I am not provoked. What is your business with Miss Ferris?"
[/ QUOTE ]
"Sockets were killed," the Murker answered, dropping down to all fours, suddenly resembling a hairless dog, though the head remained the same. "More will come looking. We couldn't stay there saftely."
"Meat could have stayed," it continued, gesturing with its head toward Gilda. "But we wanted to talk more. Wanted..."
The thing cut itself off, as though it had said too much. Gilda was starting to get a look of realization on her face. She stared hard at the Murker, though she addressed Mortanis.
"The girl I was with before; PJ. Just before those guys in suits showed up, she said someone was coming to look for her. And now this thing says they were looking for it...."
She trailed off, continuing to stare at the creature as if she were trying to look into the middle of it.
[ QUOTE ]
"The girl I was with before; PJ. Just before those guys in suits showed up, she said someone was coming to look for her. And now this thing says they were looking for it...."
[/ QUOTE ]
Very interesting. But it isn't unheard of, some gifted having shape shifting qualities. I wonder...
Mortanis looked from the creature to Gilda and back, trying to make sense of what to do. This PJ is quite a character. But what are we to do with her? "We obviously can't stay here; those "sockets" are bound to return with reinforcements." He turned his face to Gilda. "Also, you can't return to Arachnos. Ever. As I said before, I have had business with them before. After something resembling your squad's misfortune, the survivor will be executed. Either they are a traitor or a coward, but in either case, they are made an example of for new recruits."
Mortanis slowly began to sink to the ground, the physical and mental toll that the day had on him beginning to show. PJ was going to be difficult to hide if she remained in her state for much longer, especially in a place like Paragon. He stared out into the skyline as he began to talk again, his words slow and full of pain.
"Gilda, back in the building you saw something that I would greatly appreciate if you kept it to yourself. You now can understand why I am so anxious to see my plans fulfilled. The heroes that decimated your squad will undoubtedly come into contact with the Council, and from there I can achieve my goal."
"The Council have recently devised a serum that they inject into their prized soldiers in order to make them "better". If I can get my hands on some of it, I can create a derivative keyed to my genetic sequence to rid me of these irksome seizures, which have been occurring at at an alarming rate. Simply put, I need your help."
Mortanis glanced back at PJ before continuing.
"I can probably find us a place to stay for a while, even in this city, but your friend here might be a little conspicuous in this form. I suggest we return to the ground and find someplace to sleep, at least for tonight. And to eat, I'm starving."
[ QUOTE ]
"I can probably find us a place to stay for a while, even in this city, but your friend here might be a little conspicuous in this form. I suggest we return to the ground and find someplace to sleep, at least for tonight. And to eat, I'm starving."
[/ QUOTE ]
The Murker wasn't very happy with these new developments, but the cat was out of the bag as it were, and being stubborn about it now wasn't going to help things.
The creature seemed to draw into itself, growing smaller and thinner as tendrils of it whipped about. Pale hands and feet appeared from within and the head began to round, solid white eyes appearing on its face.
For a moment PJ stood there looking like she was wearing a writhing, twisting robe. Her eyes were still a solid white and her mouth, while human, was still filled with large, pointy teeth.
Then it was all over. The substance settled, taking on the shape and color of the clothes Gilda had first seen her in. Irises and pupils faded into sight, and teeth shrank back to normal.
"Told you finding work was complicated," PJ said to Gilda, shoving her hands into the pockets of her hooded sweatshirt.
"I've got some food stored up back there," she addressed Mortanis now, nodding toward the building they'd come from. "Mostly just canned stuff, but it's still good. Other than that, yer on yer own. I don't do 'plans'."
PJ turned to go. Hero, villain, or whatever, Mortanis' kind was to be avoided as far as she was concerned. Only trouble came from getting mixed up in their schemes and battles, and she had enough problems of her own.
Gilda suddenly ran up behind her, grabbing the smaller girl by the shoulder.
"You're leaving?" the soldier asked, dumbfounded and a little hurt.
"I don't like getting mixed up in this crap," PJ answered, not turning around, though she stopped walking. "I'm not looking for trouble and I don't want to make a name for myself."
"But if what he says is true, about Arachnos," Gilda shot back, looking a little desperate. "I mean, I didn't ever think about being punished for what happened to my squad, but I've been a soldier with them long enough to know never to assume anything. I'm worried. About where I'll go; what I'll do. I've never.... I've never had to work alone before."
It was true. Gilda had become part of a gang in the Isles at a young age and had moved straight into Arachnos after that. She'd always been a part of a group or squad. The prospect of having no one to rely on but herself was a strange concept to her.
Sure, Mortanis was there, but Gilda wasn't sure how much she trusted him just yet. Not that she was afraid he'd murder her in her sleep or anything, but he had his own agenda. Mercenaries were known for being unpredictable and for 99% of them, 'loyalty' only went as far as was convienent to them.
PJ turned around, a little taken aback by the slight pleading note in Gilda's voice. Before her life had taken the drastic turn that had led to her current situation, PJ had been a kind, if somewhat cynical person. The look in the soldier's eyes struck a chord with that old aspect of herself.
"D***," PJ muttered with a resigned sigh. "Fine, I'll stick around for now." She rubbed irritably at her eyes. She was going to regret this; she just knew it.
[ QUOTE ]
"But if what he says is true, about Arachnos," Gilda shot back, looking a little desperate. "I mean, I didn't ever think about being punished for what happened to my squad, but I've been a soldier with them long enough to know never to assume anything. I'm worried. About where I'll go; what I'll do. I've never.... I've never had to work alone before."
[/ QUOTE ]
Mortanis tried his best to sound concerned, but his past life had driven care out of his voice. But not out of his heart.
"The worry will pass, Gilda. I went solo, and look at me. Maybe not the best example. Try something else. Look, either you are going to make it, or you aren't; there isn't any gray area in which to hide. When I was fresh out of the Zig, I did some things I would like to forget in order to survive. It is up to you on how far you are willing to go to live. I have a room back in the Isles at the Blakmoore if it will make things any easier."
Mortanis's mind started that all too familiar descent into his past with her; lightning was all around him, filling his pores, his nostrils. His body began twitch, then tremble. This time, however, a thin mist clouded his golden eyes, like the sun on a foggy day. As he fell, he began to spout things that he would kill others to keep silent.
"Why didn't you... What was I... CHARLES!!!!"
Mortanis convulsed dangerously, his flailing managing to break a few of his ribs. Another new sight was a foaming at his mouth, a bleeding from his nose. His condition was getting worse...
[ QUOTE ]
"Why didn't you... What was I... CHARLES!!!!"
Mortanis convulsed dangerously, his flailing managing to break a few of his ribs. Another new sight was a foaming at his mouth, a bleeding from his nose. His condition was getting worse...
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Gilda winced as Mortanis went into another fit. PJ grimaced and rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, THIS is off to a great start," she grumbled. "C'mon, it's only a matter of time before someone flies over and sees him. Then we'll have a lot of explaining to do."
PJ held out a hand and the fingers suddenly turned black, snapping out to latch onto Mortanis. Her entire forearm came apart into the black tendrils, all whipping down to grab onto the flailing man. The tar-like substance wrapped around him tightly, preventing him from further self-inflicted injuries.
She then began dragging him toward the roof access door, hopefully to hide in the stairwell until whatever this was had passed. Her face had changed along with her arm, her eyes growing a bit bigger and going white again; as well as her teeth turning into the large spikes of bone that they'd been previously.
"This is worse than last time," Gilda remarked, walking after PJ. "What if he doesn't get better?"
"We... It," PJ corrected herself, jerking her head at her morphed arm. "It can sometimes fix people. But I'd rather not do it unless I have to."
The creature could read people's brains. Not really telepathy, more like recognizing chemical and electrical impulses which it could interpret into images or memories. With normal people it was fairly easy, but people with superpowers tended to be a little more difficult. She wasn't really sure why.
Healing someone further complicated matters. The creature didn't actually heal damage itself. It modified the body to heal itself at an accelerated rate. To do so, it had to temporarily bond with the organisms mind, and PJ, being part of the thing, would be along for the ride. A two-way ride, actually. While PJ would be privy to some of Mortanis' memories, he would glimpse some of hers as well.
With any luck the man would settle down soon and it wouldn't even be necessary. PJ pulled Mortanis into the stairwell and Gilda closed the door behind the three of them.
"I am what some may call a "mercenary". I take jobs as I see fit for various clients, who for whatever reason, want something done smoothly, cleanly, and correctly. The last job I had, I was employed by the organization that you belong to as well. My partner and friend Haliphar was recently captured by the Longbow after a heist on the bank at Kings Row. I would rescue him myself, but there are some complications arising from the process that made me what I am today, and I hope to find what I need from certain heroes that you have witnessed."
Why am I spouting my life's story to her? I don't even know who she is.
"I saw the video footage of what happened to your squad. I am trying to find those heroes responsible for the reason I have stated, and would kindly request your assistance in doing so."
Even under the dirt, she looks so much like...
Mortanis began to smell lightning, his body tensing up.
Oh no, not now! Please not now, not now, not now!
Mortanis fell to the floor, his yellow cat eyes rolling into his head. He started convulsing, throwing up dust that lay on the ground.