RE: QUIETUS [S!5] [Round 2: Krei'kii'kelriz]
01-13-2017, 10:47 AM
(This post was last modified: 01-18-2017, 05:28 AM by Hellfish.)
It was sluggish. The dry air was taking its toll. Its coils moved ponderously, like cold syrup, and it advanced across the floor in a slow crawl. It nosed the tiles and seemed to catch her scent, raising a curious tentacle.
Amaranth looked nervously at Robin, but the necrologist was busily working on her little machine. She didn’t seem to be bothered by the black fluid bubbling up from the cracks in the floor.
She cleared her throat, feeling foolish. It echoed in the empty lab. “So… Sonora, right?”
The tentacle tied itself in a knot and dissolved. “Creek.”
Amaranth blinked. “Uh. Right. Creek-”
“Sonora. Sonora. Ssszonora. Sonora. Z-S-Zonora.” Its voice hitched in a sad little sob. Somehow, it sounded sarcastic.
Amaranth blinked. Without looking up, Robin rolled her hand. Keep it coming.
Nodding reluctantly, Amaranth folded her hands and began to hum a simple temple hymn. Her throat was dry and her voice cracked on the first few notes, but she steeled herself. I feel so stupid.
The black fluid paused, passing a bubble back and forth over its surface. Is that good?
She cleared her throat and resumed. It was a rather plain tune that most children in the Union knew by heart, a peaceful song about becoming a grave-tree. Not something most outsiders would be comfortable with, she realized belatedly, but maybe that was an advantage here. Sonora was rippling, not quite in tune. Experimentally, Amaranth raised her voice, extolling the virtues of returning to the earth as a seed.
The black water surged, hissing like a kettle. It pulsed and shivered, forming into something like an eyeless black snake that coiled around her, keeping a meter’s distance. “Poison,” it wept, writhing bonelessly. It wrung itself like an old washcloth. “Poisoned heart. Scorched earth. My roses- my roses- what have you done to my roses? I used to walk- in the garden- Ah!”
Amaranth stopped singing, putting up her hands to shield herself. The water recoiled as though her skin burned it, splitting itself in two and whistling piteously. “No encore, huh.”
Sonora growled. Truly growled, like a dog. “Thou defiler. Perversion of nature. DON’T COME NEAR ME! STAY AWAY!”
“You stay away from me!” The water popped and spat angrily, but didn’t come any closer. Experimentally, Amaranth took a step forward; it pulled back and hissed. “Robin, what’s going on with it?”
The necrologist sighed, clicking busily. “If I had to guess I’d say it doesn’t like artificial flavoring.”
“What- nevermind.” At least she had some protection. Not the most flattering kind, but it counted.
“Defiler- destroyer,” Sonora was moaning. Blessed earth, the thing liked to talk. “The heathens- rrrrr- burn them. My temple- Sonora- Burn them all! Heresy!”
I’m sensing a theme here. Amaranth rubbed her arm. “You and Arokht must get along well.”
The water boiled sullenly. “Iceworlder. Arokht. I will lead. My armor will protect. Cooperate or I break every limb in your- your- your-”
“Yeah, that’s him.”
Robin was giving her a look. Amaranth looked down and jumped; the water had seeped closer to her when she wasn’t looking, nearly touching her toes. She took a few steps back, releasing a little smoke to chase it away. Sonora squealed.
“How do you think the big guy did?” Mary asked. She stretched, shaking off the effects of the soporific. She was adaptable, Amaranth couldn’t help but note. Useful trait. “He’s a handful, but those cultists get rabid. Think he made it out?”
“I’d be more worried about anyone trying to stop him,” Amaranth said. The smoke had pushed Sonora to the edge of the room where it thrashed and spat, flecking the walls. She kept a wary eye on it, ready to unleash more pollen.
“I guess you don’t have any kind of tracker on him, huh? Would have been handy.”
“It would have been,” Amaranth said. A twinge of annoyance plucked at her seed. “I honestly don't know what he'll do on his own. I think he needs help. With a lot of things.”
“Uh huh.” Mary didn’t sound convinced. She peeked over Robin’s shoulder, causing the necrologist to grunt in irritation. “You know, there’s lots of corpses back the way we came. Not in the best condition, semi-flattened, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
“Um, Robin?”
“I don’t need corpses. I need necro-spiritual energies.”
“Robin?”
“What’s the, uh, difference?”
“Robin!”
“What, Amaranth?”
“She- It’s gone.”
Robin looked up, sniffed. The walls were sticky with black residue, but silent. “She’ll be back. Fickle as a cat, that thing, and harder to herd. Now, if I can get some actual work done-”
___
Arokht leaned against a wall, permitting himself briefly to rest. His filters were overworked, his lungs fluttering with exhaustion. Warning lights flickered on and off his visual interface, too many to count. His joints hurt. His exoskeleton hurt. He hurt. Iron-based blood crusted his armor, corrupted with alien scent.
He slammed an enormous fist into the wall. The metal buckled underneath him like paper. He was lost. He was weak. He was letting this ship, this fight, get to him. Weak. Disgrace.
Ah... what’s, what's, what's somebody like you doing in a place like this?
He stiffened, leveling his arm at the corridor. The voice echoed unnaturally, teasing him. “Come out,” he ordered. “I will not hesitate to eliminate you if you pose a threat.”
The walls giggled. Lights flickered further down the hallways.
“I am aware of your presence, Sonora. I will not ask again.”
There was silence, and then the quiet drip-drip-dripping of a loose pipe. Arokht brought his gun online, letting it hum meaningfully through the empty hall. Pockets of black water were pooling on the floor, draining from rivulets underneath the light fixtures. Reflections danced in them like tiny stars.
“O ye of so little faith.”
Arokht rumbled angrily. He was not in the mood to humor aliens. “Sonora. Disclose the location of the other contestants.”
“You’re all on your own, you lost all your friends…”
The Iceworlder bristled. He took a heavy step towards the nearest pool, training his gun on the rivulet feeding it. “I have lost no one. They have foolishly defected. We cannot present a united front against the Outsider’s machinations in this state.”
The puddle laughed. It rippled, gently drifting closer. “I think he needs help.”
Amaranth? “You have spoken with the others? You will lead me to them. Now.”
“They call you crybaby, crybaby,” it whined. “Help. Help. He needs help, help, help!”
It was not a word that translated easily, but Arokht understood.
“They- call my bravery into question?” Fury rippled at the edge of his mind. These aliens. Weak, watery, pathetic vermin. What did they know of valor? Of duty? His pulse was quickening. He saw the water thrumming in time to his hearts.
“It don’t matter, tch tch. I’m the one that loves you best.”
“Stop speaking in riddles.”
“We could be together,” the water purred, laying a tendril over his foot. “If you wanted to. A little closer. A little closer. Just...”
Arokht snarled and kicked it, spraying dark droplets over the wall. The puddle retreated, coiling in on itself. “I have no need of your- biological predilections.”
“I know you’re- BETTER- than anyone else. I’m curious- about you- The fear of god? Get a closer look- Me, you, you! You! You!”
“ENOUGH!”
The water boiled, drawing more and more of itself from the wall. It rose to the height of his knees, his hips, his waist. It shivered and danced, and Arokht's sensors pulsed: no organs. Room temperature. Unknown chemical composition.
“I SEE THINGS- nobody else sees. Make- alliance to me. Make me your Aphrodite. I have the same- your tears are mine. They call you crybaby, crybaby! I’ve had enough of gods and monsters!”
Arokht considered, keeping the fluid in his sights. It swirled in arcane patterns, edging ever closer. The alien was treacherous, and it had attacked his allies before. It was dangerous, unstable, and had even less regard for rank and tactics than the others.
It knew the location of Amaranth, and likely the others. It had demonstrated a capacity for controlled violence, however animalistic. It was accepting- possibly- his offer of alliance.
It could not be trusted.
But what choice did he have?
He drew back his arm. “If we are to ally, you… You will come under my command.”
“See these shackles, baby? I’m your slave.”
Arokht regarded it coldly. It bubbled. “You are distasteful.”
Sonora loosened, falling back into a pool. Shockwaves resonated through it. “You got yours. Let me get mine.”
He ignored it. “You will take me to the others. From there we will endeavor to discover the cause behind this ship’s reactivation. We will retake control of sufficient territory, fortify our position, and maintain our forces long enough to lure out the Outsider and kill it.”
The water made a motion. It might have been a shrug. “I don't think he even really knows what a lie is. Is, Is, Is.”
“What… do you mean by that statement?”
“The scorpion shrugged, and did a little jig on the drowning frog's back. ‘I could not help myself. It is my nature.’"
Arokht stared, and turned away down the corridor. “Alien riddles.”
Sonora followed like a dog at his heels, short-circuiting the lights.
____
The cultists were gathered around their oracle.
“She comes,” he gasped, “She comes!”
They gripped his sweaty hands, knuckles white with strain. He turned to smile at them with bloody teeth. “You cannot imagine the… the radiance. The sun in the fabric of endless night. The light on the edge of death. She has heard our prayers. She will clasp us to her shell and take us beyond, to where the children still dance, and their hearts are full. She has heard! She has heard!”
They covered his face with rapturous tears, his body with stolen money. Plastic chips, ragged paper scraps. He smiled beyond them, ecstatic, a thousand light year stare.
She would not fail them. She was promised. And already, her prophet was on this ship.
Amaranth looked nervously at Robin, but the necrologist was busily working on her little machine. She didn’t seem to be bothered by the black fluid bubbling up from the cracks in the floor.
She cleared her throat, feeling foolish. It echoed in the empty lab. “So… Sonora, right?”
The tentacle tied itself in a knot and dissolved. “Creek.”
Amaranth blinked. “Uh. Right. Creek-”
“Sonora. Sonora. Ssszonora. Sonora. Z-S-Zonora.” Its voice hitched in a sad little sob. Somehow, it sounded sarcastic.
Amaranth blinked. Without looking up, Robin rolled her hand. Keep it coming.
Nodding reluctantly, Amaranth folded her hands and began to hum a simple temple hymn. Her throat was dry and her voice cracked on the first few notes, but she steeled herself. I feel so stupid.
The black fluid paused, passing a bubble back and forth over its surface. Is that good?
She cleared her throat and resumed. It was a rather plain tune that most children in the Union knew by heart, a peaceful song about becoming a grave-tree. Not something most outsiders would be comfortable with, she realized belatedly, but maybe that was an advantage here. Sonora was rippling, not quite in tune. Experimentally, Amaranth raised her voice, extolling the virtues of returning to the earth as a seed.
The black water surged, hissing like a kettle. It pulsed and shivered, forming into something like an eyeless black snake that coiled around her, keeping a meter’s distance. “Poison,” it wept, writhing bonelessly. It wrung itself like an old washcloth. “Poisoned heart. Scorched earth. My roses- my roses- what have you done to my roses? I used to walk- in the garden- Ah!”
Amaranth stopped singing, putting up her hands to shield herself. The water recoiled as though her skin burned it, splitting itself in two and whistling piteously. “No encore, huh.”
Sonora growled. Truly growled, like a dog. “Thou defiler. Perversion of nature. DON’T COME NEAR ME! STAY AWAY!”
“You stay away from me!” The water popped and spat angrily, but didn’t come any closer. Experimentally, Amaranth took a step forward; it pulled back and hissed. “Robin, what’s going on with it?”
The necrologist sighed, clicking busily. “If I had to guess I’d say it doesn’t like artificial flavoring.”
“What- nevermind.” At least she had some protection. Not the most flattering kind, but it counted.
“Defiler- destroyer,” Sonora was moaning. Blessed earth, the thing liked to talk. “The heathens- rrrrr- burn them. My temple- Sonora- Burn them all! Heresy!”
I’m sensing a theme here. Amaranth rubbed her arm. “You and Arokht must get along well.”
The water boiled sullenly. “Iceworlder. Arokht. I will lead. My armor will protect. Cooperate or I break every limb in your- your- your-”
“Yeah, that’s him.”
Robin was giving her a look. Amaranth looked down and jumped; the water had seeped closer to her when she wasn’t looking, nearly touching her toes. She took a few steps back, releasing a little smoke to chase it away. Sonora squealed.
“How do you think the big guy did?” Mary asked. She stretched, shaking off the effects of the soporific. She was adaptable, Amaranth couldn’t help but note. Useful trait. “He’s a handful, but those cultists get rabid. Think he made it out?”
“I’d be more worried about anyone trying to stop him,” Amaranth said. The smoke had pushed Sonora to the edge of the room where it thrashed and spat, flecking the walls. She kept a wary eye on it, ready to unleash more pollen.
“I guess you don’t have any kind of tracker on him, huh? Would have been handy.”
“It would have been,” Amaranth said. A twinge of annoyance plucked at her seed. “I honestly don't know what he'll do on his own. I think he needs help. With a lot of things.”
“Uh huh.” Mary didn’t sound convinced. She peeked over Robin’s shoulder, causing the necrologist to grunt in irritation. “You know, there’s lots of corpses back the way we came. Not in the best condition, semi-flattened, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
“Um, Robin?”
“I don’t need corpses. I need necro-spiritual energies.”
“Robin?”
“What’s the, uh, difference?”
“Robin!”
“What, Amaranth?”
“She- It’s gone.”
Robin looked up, sniffed. The walls were sticky with black residue, but silent. “She’ll be back. Fickle as a cat, that thing, and harder to herd. Now, if I can get some actual work done-”
___
Arokht leaned against a wall, permitting himself briefly to rest. His filters were overworked, his lungs fluttering with exhaustion. Warning lights flickered on and off his visual interface, too many to count. His joints hurt. His exoskeleton hurt. He hurt. Iron-based blood crusted his armor, corrupted with alien scent.
He slammed an enormous fist into the wall. The metal buckled underneath him like paper. He was lost. He was weak. He was letting this ship, this fight, get to him. Weak. Disgrace.
Ah... what’s, what's, what's somebody like you doing in a place like this?
He stiffened, leveling his arm at the corridor. The voice echoed unnaturally, teasing him. “Come out,” he ordered. “I will not hesitate to eliminate you if you pose a threat.”
The walls giggled. Lights flickered further down the hallways.
“I am aware of your presence, Sonora. I will not ask again.”
There was silence, and then the quiet drip-drip-dripping of a loose pipe. Arokht brought his gun online, letting it hum meaningfully through the empty hall. Pockets of black water were pooling on the floor, draining from rivulets underneath the light fixtures. Reflections danced in them like tiny stars.
“O ye of so little faith.”
Arokht rumbled angrily. He was not in the mood to humor aliens. “Sonora. Disclose the location of the other contestants.”
“You’re all on your own, you lost all your friends…”
The Iceworlder bristled. He took a heavy step towards the nearest pool, training his gun on the rivulet feeding it. “I have lost no one. They have foolishly defected. We cannot present a united front against the Outsider’s machinations in this state.”
The puddle laughed. It rippled, gently drifting closer. “I think he needs help.”
Amaranth? “You have spoken with the others? You will lead me to them. Now.”
“They call you crybaby, crybaby,” it whined. “Help. Help. He needs help, help, help!”
It was not a word that translated easily, but Arokht understood.
“They- call my bravery into question?” Fury rippled at the edge of his mind. These aliens. Weak, watery, pathetic vermin. What did they know of valor? Of duty? His pulse was quickening. He saw the water thrumming in time to his hearts.
“It don’t matter, tch tch. I’m the one that loves you best.”
“Stop speaking in riddles.”
“We could be together,” the water purred, laying a tendril over his foot. “If you wanted to. A little closer. A little closer. Just...”
Arokht snarled and kicked it, spraying dark droplets over the wall. The puddle retreated, coiling in on itself. “I have no need of your- biological predilections.”
“I know you’re- BETTER- than anyone else. I’m curious- about you- The fear of god? Get a closer look- Me, you, you! You! You!”
“ENOUGH!”
The water boiled, drawing more and more of itself from the wall. It rose to the height of his knees, his hips, his waist. It shivered and danced, and Arokht's sensors pulsed: no organs. Room temperature. Unknown chemical composition.
“I SEE THINGS- nobody else sees. Make- alliance to me. Make me your Aphrodite. I have the same- your tears are mine. They call you crybaby, crybaby! I’ve had enough of gods and monsters!”
Arokht considered, keeping the fluid in his sights. It swirled in arcane patterns, edging ever closer. The alien was treacherous, and it had attacked his allies before. It was dangerous, unstable, and had even less regard for rank and tactics than the others.
It knew the location of Amaranth, and likely the others. It had demonstrated a capacity for controlled violence, however animalistic. It was accepting- possibly- his offer of alliance.
It could not be trusted.
But what choice did he have?
He drew back his arm. “If we are to ally, you… You will come under my command.”
“See these shackles, baby? I’m your slave.”
Arokht regarded it coldly. It bubbled. “You are distasteful.”
Sonora loosened, falling back into a pool. Shockwaves resonated through it. “You got yours. Let me get mine.”
He ignored it. “You will take me to the others. From there we will endeavor to discover the cause behind this ship’s reactivation. We will retake control of sufficient territory, fortify our position, and maintain our forces long enough to lure out the Outsider and kill it.”
The water made a motion. It might have been a shrug. “I don't think he even really knows what a lie is. Is, Is, Is.”
“What… do you mean by that statement?”
“The scorpion shrugged, and did a little jig on the drowning frog's back. ‘I could not help myself. It is my nature.’"
Arokht stared, and turned away down the corridor. “Alien riddles.”
Sonora followed like a dog at his heels, short-circuiting the lights.
____
The cultists were gathered around their oracle.
“She comes,” he gasped, “She comes!”
They gripped his sweaty hands, knuckles white with strain. He turned to smile at them with bloody teeth. “You cannot imagine the… the radiance. The sun in the fabric of endless night. The light on the edge of death. She has heard our prayers. She will clasp us to her shell and take us beyond, to where the children still dance, and their hearts are full. She has heard! She has heard!”
They covered his face with rapturous tears, his body with stolen money. Plastic chips, ragged paper scraps. He smiled beyond them, ecstatic, a thousand light year stare.
She would not fail them. She was promised. And already, her prophet was on this ship.