Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 3 - Oxbow Inc.)
09-18-2011, 09:54 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
Iris growled. She motioned, impatient, for the Deejan to get to his feet, but he just shook his head and kept making agonised noises through what was left of his beak. With a sigh, she yanked him up without protest and shoved him at the operating table. It had only just dawned on the woman the source of the sickly creaking under the mess of straps and metal must've been, and she wasted no time in ordering Trent to release the creature.
The avian appraised her for one long moment, wondering if letting the psychopath human kill him would be a preferable end to staving her off with half-truths and technical jargon, then grinned with a noise like a particularly juicy steak being trod on. Trent turned his back on Iris, and began unclamping and unstrapping the Tender.
"Let me see his face," she commanded. Sen sounded like he was trying to scream his lunatic face off, but his jaws were welded shut. With no wish whatsoever to do as Iris ordered, Trent took as long as he could spare loosening the ties round a protesting limb before tiredly traipsing round the table.
He flipped a few catches; tried not to recoil as Sen threw off the cap pinning his head down. (Trent was kind of beyond fear at this point; it had more to do with Iris' knife at his back again.)
"Take that thing off."
"You do it," spat the Deejan. The Tender had acclimatised to those drugs very, very fast. Judging by the way the imprisoning hull was starting to creak and bend in a way it shouldn't, Trent figured there'd be another minute or so before it got loose. The monster had already woken up, and was doing the best it could – restrained as it was - to club him senseless with its own muzzled head.
Dortul, was she speaking to it? More to the point, was it listening? The way its arm swung about just as soon as Trent unstrapped it to smack her in the face said no, but there was always the chance it was confused and scared and violent rather than stupid and malicious and violent.
No, scratch that. It shrugged off the mess of straps and buckles and other restraints, and silenced its saviour's pleas for him to listen with a shriek and a smack across the face. Trent smiled as best as he could at that, and ducked out before someone or something stopped being distracted long enough to finish rearranging his face.
"I'm trying to help you!"
Sen just flicked his ear-crests, too agitated to actually make words out of what Iris was saying. He tried to lift himself up, but his right limb collapsed under him, bringing the killer fruit crashing back down onto the operating table with an impotent hiss. Iris stood shakily, trying to move around the room to see what was wrong the Tender, but it screeched, trying and failing again to stand.
A final tantrum-like shriek, and Sen found balance upon one, splayed-out claw. The Tender lost it again as he slipped off the table and fell to the floor in an ungainly mess, but stood quicker this time, tipping gingerly over as it tested how much weight its mangled arm would bear.
He twisted round with difficulty, and snarled at the woman, before crawling in some completely arbitrary direction (from Iris' point of view, anyway). His right arm hung, near-useless, from a gaping asymmetry where his shoulder – and its seed pod – used to be.
Sen managed a few hopping steps before stumbling again, screaming at a seemingly-arbitrary corridor. Iris ignored common sense and tried to get close enough to heal him. He smacked her away with another irritable backhand, and kept on screaming.
Iris growled. She motioned, impatient, for the Deejan to get to his feet, but he just shook his head and kept making agonised noises through what was left of his beak. With a sigh, she yanked him up without protest and shoved him at the operating table. It had only just dawned on the woman the source of the sickly creaking under the mess of straps and metal must've been, and she wasted no time in ordering Trent to release the creature.
The avian appraised her for one long moment, wondering if letting the psychopath human kill him would be a preferable end to staving her off with half-truths and technical jargon, then grinned with a noise like a particularly juicy steak being trod on. Trent turned his back on Iris, and began unclamping and unstrapping the Tender.
"Let me see his face," she commanded. Sen sounded like he was trying to scream his lunatic face off, but his jaws were welded shut. With no wish whatsoever to do as Iris ordered, Trent took as long as he could spare loosening the ties round a protesting limb before tiredly traipsing round the table.
He flipped a few catches; tried not to recoil as Sen threw off the cap pinning his head down. (Trent was kind of beyond fear at this point; it had more to do with Iris' knife at his back again.)
"Take that thing off."
"You do it," spat the Deejan. The Tender had acclimatised to those drugs very, very fast. Judging by the way the imprisoning hull was starting to creak and bend in a way it shouldn't, Trent figured there'd be another minute or so before it got loose. The monster had already woken up, and was doing the best it could – restrained as it was - to club him senseless with its own muzzled head.
Dortul, was she speaking to it? More to the point, was it listening? The way its arm swung about just as soon as Trent unstrapped it to smack her in the face said no, but there was always the chance it was confused and scared and violent rather than stupid and malicious and violent.
No, scratch that. It shrugged off the mess of straps and buckles and other restraints, and silenced its saviour's pleas for him to listen with a shriek and a smack across the face. Trent smiled as best as he could at that, and ducked out before someone or something stopped being distracted long enough to finish rearranging his face.
"I'm trying to help you!"
Sen just flicked his ear-crests, too agitated to actually make words out of what Iris was saying. He tried to lift himself up, but his right limb collapsed under him, bringing the killer fruit crashing back down onto the operating table with an impotent hiss. Iris stood shakily, trying to move around the room to see what was wrong the Tender, but it screeched, trying and failing again to stand.
A final tantrum-like shriek, and Sen found balance upon one, splayed-out claw. The Tender lost it again as he slipped off the table and fell to the floor in an ungainly mess, but stood quicker this time, tipping gingerly over as it tested how much weight its mangled arm would bear.
He twisted round with difficulty, and snarled at the woman, before crawling in some completely arbitrary direction (from Iris' point of view, anyway). His right arm hung, near-useless, from a gaping asymmetry where his shoulder – and its seed pod – used to be.
Sen managed a few hopping steps before stumbling again, screaming at a seemingly-arbitrary corridor. Iris ignored common sense and tried to get close enough to heal him. He smacked her away with another irritable backhand, and kept on screaming.
peace to the unsung peace to the martyrs | i'm johnny rotten appleseed
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow