Re: The Vivacious Deadlock: S3G6: Round One: Genreshift
08-18-2011, 02:08 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.
Abys dropped down into the sewer. It was pitch black, dank and smelt repulsive, but as ever Abys had a job to do and she would get it done. She clicked on her night-vision and quickly spotted the wayward tome. She grabbed it, made an effort to remove the filth it was now covered with and then made to climb back out of the sewers. They were not the optimal way to travel and even if she was a bit sewagey she was still confident she could slip past the others and be on her way. However as began to climb the ladder she heard the unmistakable sounds of a dramatic entry by the ‘Greatest Degeneration’; the genre gang that took their genre so seriously it was difficult to tell them they weren’t actually an army.
On the one hand the certainty of those self-righteous dicks on the other hand the possibility of the sewer dwelling Screaming Eagles. It was an easy choice. She stepped off the ladder and clicked her arm into firearm mode, before setting off through the miserable black tunnels in a direction that she hoped would bring her out somewhere around the industrial district. In the darkness someone that was really better described as something watched Abys, and unnoticed by the cyborg slipped away.
--------
Phere stormed through the warehouse, her fists clenched and her teeth grinding together. In the beginning her plan had been straightforward; she would keep a distance from the book, watch the others bicker over it and use the chaos to pick them off. It would have been so simple, but for the complications that seemed to keep cropping up; Ivan's discovery of Abys, the loss of the Tome, Cascala... just Cascala. It had been The Network's fault. The technology these Punks had was clumsy and inefficient and Tek had promised that they'd be able to rig up a better communicator if the Scifi genre was in effect. She should have left it alone, but the appeal to take control not just of this world but of the lives of those scattered in battles across the multiverse. It had been too much to resist. Now she was spinning out of control over this battle and no closer to gaining control over anyone else's. She was in short, pissed.
Phere was slamming doors and screaming at random Punks who she hadn't bothered to learn the names of. Where the hell had Syn got off to and why the hell was there no notice that some bitch had arrived on the premises? The Punks didn't have good answers to those questions, their memories a little hazy on exactly what had been going on at that point. Irritably Phere returned to the main office/surgery where Syn was waiting with that battery she had gone to fetch. She bit her lip awkwardly as the Empress fumed.
“Are you okay?” she ventured. “I was gone longer than I thought, Tek had taken all the batteries.” She hesitated and with a faint smile held up the battery she had managed to retrieve. “Got this one though.”
"About time." Phere snapped. She sat down on the surgical table, and almost immediately sighed and folded her arms in irritable impatience. “Come on then, what are we waiting for?” She demanded irately. Syn hurried over to her, and began nervously installing the battery. Cascala’s voice crackled over Phere’s hand held radio, demanding the directions she had been assured she would have. Phere scowled and dumped the radio on the table next to her. "You can wait your turn." she muttered to herself.
--------
In a makeshift shack made of old scrap metal a group of scruffy individuals in old torn jackets sat around a burning heap made up of any flammable stuff they could get their hands on. If you examined the vagrants close to you would see off-green skin, unnatural growths, on some you would see scales or claws. The Screaming Eagles were pretty unique as a genre gang in that most of them didn’t actively participate in the genre wars that raged in the streets above them. They rarely left the sewers except to scavenge supplies, and more or less the only time they ever fought anyone was when someone was foolhardy enough to venture down into the sewers. As a group they varied between normal people with unfortunate disfigurements and things that were almost feral and could barely be said to be human any more.
Khan, the leader of the Screaming Eagles, was perhaps the least mutated of the Eagles. He would have been considered reasonably attractive assuming that people somehow managed to miss the third eye that grew on his forehead. He was only slightly emaciated and he went to the effort to have a shave now and again. He still harboured the notion that one day the Eagles would take possession of the tome and shift this city into a glorious Post Apocalyptic paradise. For the moment he sat by the fire with a couple of his fellow Eagles and partook in a hearty broth. As the group ate they suddenly found themselves joined by the scaled form of Dreck. The Eagles looked to him expectantly.
“There’th a thpunky little Punk in our thewerth…” he lisped. The Eagles uninterestedly turned back to their meals. “…theth got the Tholen Tome.” Suddenly he had the attention of the room again. He grinned widely… very widely.
--------
Klendel stalked along the shadowy alleyways of the industrial district rehearsing in his head the perfect chain of events that led to Abys fumbling and losing the tome. He heard the sound of approaching footsteps and slunk into the shadows to get a better view of whoever was coming his way.
“Don’t bother.” Phere called. “I know you’re there.” Phere stepped out of the shadows, followed by a guy with short brown hair, spectacles and stubble. Even though the only time that Klendel had seen the Empress was during the introductions he knew that something was different. For starters gone was the eyepatch, though he was not to know she’d ditched that a while ago. Moreover she had changed out of the elegant ballgown she had been wearing; now she was wearing a long dark brown jacket with plenty of pockets, combat trousers. At her waist she had holstered a futuristic pistol, and on her back she was wearing a backpack. Her companion was carrying a high-tech rifle and had a similar backpack. Both packs looked pretty full.
Klendel, having emerged from the shadows had reassessed the situation. Clearly things had changed; his version of events didn’t seem quite relevant at the moment. “What’s going on?”
“I’m on the move.” Phere said rather redundantly. “This is Tek.” She gestured to her nervous looking companion, who not quite knowing what to do shot Klendel a quick salute. Despite the fact that Klendel purported to be in her employ Phere did not trust him. He was still at the end of the day a competitor, perhaps one that would prove useful in furthering her own agenda but sooner or later his agenda would rear its ugly head and he would have to be dealt with. She had her reasons for leaving the Punk’s warehouse, the main one being security. That Cascala had gotten inside so easily perturbed her, the warehouse was no longer secure as long as Cascala and to a lesser extent Klendel himself knew about it. She’d packed her backpack full with radios, energy cells for her laser pistol, a first aid kit, a knife, a length of rope, some tinned food and bottles of water, a towel and importantly the science fiction and detective fiction bookmarks lifted from the Punks’ safe. Tek had after some coercion filled his backpack with tools and equipment and some of his half finished inventions he just couldn’t bear to leave behind.
Without hesitation Empress Phere strode past Klendel, expecting him to fall in behind her. No matter how ill at ease around weapons her companion looked, he didn’t much want to take Phere on here and now. Reluctantly he followed her, hoping for the opportunity to get her alone later. “Where to?” he asked.
“Not sure yet.” Phere quickly replied, “But first things first we have to meet up with Abys.” Phere placed her hand to her ear. “Okay, he’s straight ahead, in the street adjacent to the marketplace. There are these military guys, you can’t miss them.”
“Who was that?” Klendel tried again. He couldn’t help but notice Phere’s abruptness, and her general unease around him.
“Nobody.” Phere said, striding onwards in silence.
--------
It was easy to lose your nerve in the pitch black twisting sewer tunnels that snaked beneath the city, Abys reasoned. Every little sound you heard sounded to your ears like the springing of an Eagles’ trap. You were always hearing rumours of how they preferred to capture you, so that they could eat you alive. She wasn’t one to pay heed to stupid gossip but couldn’t help but feel slightly unnerved as she traipsed through the foul smelling darkness. Abys seldom deemed to show her feelings, but it would have been apparent to any watching her that the thrill of the job she had felt at the castle had dissipated. There she was a shadow, a predator picking off the weak and stealing through the corridors. Here she felt more like the prey, stalked by monsters. What the hell was she doing anyway? Risking her life for some woman who for all intents and purposes might as well have dropped out of the sky a couple hours ago? The Empress had arrived with no explanation, wrested control of the gang and suddenly Abys was putting herself in mortal peril for this complete stranger…?
Abys’ train of thought was interrupted by the noise of something splashing through the sewage. She spun around just as a mutant leapt atop her, all snarling jaws and thick gobs of saliva dripping down onto her. Suddenly without warning mutants seemed to be coming from everywhere. With one arm she held the monster at bay while she swung her mechanical arm into its awful maw. The blow sent it flying off her and into the wall of the tunnel. Quickly she pushed herself up and glanced around. She was surrounded by mutants of all descriptions. For a long moment nobody moved, the mutants and the cyborg scrutinising one another, then Abys quickly blasted away a couple of the more threatening looking mutants with a spray of bullets from her arm. Immediately the crowd fell upon her and she was forced to duck and dodge through the flailing crowd of mutants.
--------
As they walked in silence through the dark streets, Phere had had one eye on Abys’ plight. She cursed under her breath but did little else to express her displeasure at this development. The way things had been going this was just par for the course. They slowed and then came to a stop a manhole in front of them. Phere tapped her feet impatiently and instructed it be opened, when Klendel showed no inclination to do so Tek begrudgingly obliged. He made to climb down but was scolded by Phere and told to step aside. In the distance there was sound of splashing, coming closer, and the roar of angry beasts. Abys limped/ran into the shaft of light, her leg dripping with blood where one of the mutants had got her. She clutched the Stolen Tome tight to her chest with one hand and began to quickly climb with the other. The echoing sound of the chasing mutants grew every second. Phere crouched down at the top of the manhole and reached down.
“Pass me the book.” She commanded. Abys didn’t stop to think about it, she passed the book up and continued climbing. Phere straightened up and as Abys’ head emerged through the manhole she kicked her in the face and then stomped down on her fingers. With a yelp of pain, but not of surprise Abys plunged back into the depths. Phere turned away before she even heard the slam of the assassin’s body hitting the floor. She was already moving before Tek had time to react.
“You bitch!” he yelled, aiming his rifle at the Empress. “You cold hearted bitch.”
“She was injured.” Phere said, stopping and turning to face the engineer. “She’d have slowed us down. Now move or die, I suggest move because I still have use for you.” For a moment the pair stood staring one another down. “Klendel, make this man cooperate.” As Tek spun to face him Klendel was already on top of him. The cog slammed a shadowy fist into his face, wrenched his rifle away from him and shoved him after the fleeing Empress.
Behind them the Screaming Eagles, having failed to find the Stolen Tome on Abys swarmed up the ladder and onto the streets. Some of the less sentient members of the gang huddled around her, taking bites out of her as she screamed in agony. Though even her flesh tasted vaguely of metal they didn’t mind, they were just glad of a meal.
Abys dropped down into the sewer. It was pitch black, dank and smelt repulsive, but as ever Abys had a job to do and she would get it done. She clicked on her night-vision and quickly spotted the wayward tome. She grabbed it, made an effort to remove the filth it was now covered with and then made to climb back out of the sewers. They were not the optimal way to travel and even if she was a bit sewagey she was still confident she could slip past the others and be on her way. However as began to climb the ladder she heard the unmistakable sounds of a dramatic entry by the ‘Greatest Degeneration’; the genre gang that took their genre so seriously it was difficult to tell them they weren’t actually an army.
On the one hand the certainty of those self-righteous dicks on the other hand the possibility of the sewer dwelling Screaming Eagles. It was an easy choice. She stepped off the ladder and clicked her arm into firearm mode, before setting off through the miserable black tunnels in a direction that she hoped would bring her out somewhere around the industrial district. In the darkness someone that was really better described as something watched Abys, and unnoticed by the cyborg slipped away.
--------
Phere stormed through the warehouse, her fists clenched and her teeth grinding together. In the beginning her plan had been straightforward; she would keep a distance from the book, watch the others bicker over it and use the chaos to pick them off. It would have been so simple, but for the complications that seemed to keep cropping up; Ivan's discovery of Abys, the loss of the Tome, Cascala... just Cascala. It had been The Network's fault. The technology these Punks had was clumsy and inefficient and Tek had promised that they'd be able to rig up a better communicator if the Scifi genre was in effect. She should have left it alone, but the appeal to take control not just of this world but of the lives of those scattered in battles across the multiverse. It had been too much to resist. Now she was spinning out of control over this battle and no closer to gaining control over anyone else's. She was in short, pissed.
Phere was slamming doors and screaming at random Punks who she hadn't bothered to learn the names of. Where the hell had Syn got off to and why the hell was there no notice that some bitch had arrived on the premises? The Punks didn't have good answers to those questions, their memories a little hazy on exactly what had been going on at that point. Irritably Phere returned to the main office/surgery where Syn was waiting with that battery she had gone to fetch. She bit her lip awkwardly as the Empress fumed.
“Are you okay?” she ventured. “I was gone longer than I thought, Tek had taken all the batteries.” She hesitated and with a faint smile held up the battery she had managed to retrieve. “Got this one though.”
"About time." Phere snapped. She sat down on the surgical table, and almost immediately sighed and folded her arms in irritable impatience. “Come on then, what are we waiting for?” She demanded irately. Syn hurried over to her, and began nervously installing the battery. Cascala’s voice crackled over Phere’s hand held radio, demanding the directions she had been assured she would have. Phere scowled and dumped the radio on the table next to her. "You can wait your turn." she muttered to herself.
--------
In a makeshift shack made of old scrap metal a group of scruffy individuals in old torn jackets sat around a burning heap made up of any flammable stuff they could get their hands on. If you examined the vagrants close to you would see off-green skin, unnatural growths, on some you would see scales or claws. The Screaming Eagles were pretty unique as a genre gang in that most of them didn’t actively participate in the genre wars that raged in the streets above them. They rarely left the sewers except to scavenge supplies, and more or less the only time they ever fought anyone was when someone was foolhardy enough to venture down into the sewers. As a group they varied between normal people with unfortunate disfigurements and things that were almost feral and could barely be said to be human any more.
Khan, the leader of the Screaming Eagles, was perhaps the least mutated of the Eagles. He would have been considered reasonably attractive assuming that people somehow managed to miss the third eye that grew on his forehead. He was only slightly emaciated and he went to the effort to have a shave now and again. He still harboured the notion that one day the Eagles would take possession of the tome and shift this city into a glorious Post Apocalyptic paradise. For the moment he sat by the fire with a couple of his fellow Eagles and partook in a hearty broth. As the group ate they suddenly found themselves joined by the scaled form of Dreck. The Eagles looked to him expectantly.
“There’th a thpunky little Punk in our thewerth…” he lisped. The Eagles uninterestedly turned back to their meals. “…theth got the Tholen Tome.” Suddenly he had the attention of the room again. He grinned widely… very widely.
--------
Klendel stalked along the shadowy alleyways of the industrial district rehearsing in his head the perfect chain of events that led to Abys fumbling and losing the tome. He heard the sound of approaching footsteps and slunk into the shadows to get a better view of whoever was coming his way.
“Don’t bother.” Phere called. “I know you’re there.” Phere stepped out of the shadows, followed by a guy with short brown hair, spectacles and stubble. Even though the only time that Klendel had seen the Empress was during the introductions he knew that something was different. For starters gone was the eyepatch, though he was not to know she’d ditched that a while ago. Moreover she had changed out of the elegant ballgown she had been wearing; now she was wearing a long dark brown jacket with plenty of pockets, combat trousers. At her waist she had holstered a futuristic pistol, and on her back she was wearing a backpack. Her companion was carrying a high-tech rifle and had a similar backpack. Both packs looked pretty full.
Klendel, having emerged from the shadows had reassessed the situation. Clearly things had changed; his version of events didn’t seem quite relevant at the moment. “What’s going on?”
“I’m on the move.” Phere said rather redundantly. “This is Tek.” She gestured to her nervous looking companion, who not quite knowing what to do shot Klendel a quick salute. Despite the fact that Klendel purported to be in her employ Phere did not trust him. He was still at the end of the day a competitor, perhaps one that would prove useful in furthering her own agenda but sooner or later his agenda would rear its ugly head and he would have to be dealt with. She had her reasons for leaving the Punk’s warehouse, the main one being security. That Cascala had gotten inside so easily perturbed her, the warehouse was no longer secure as long as Cascala and to a lesser extent Klendel himself knew about it. She’d packed her backpack full with radios, energy cells for her laser pistol, a first aid kit, a knife, a length of rope, some tinned food and bottles of water, a towel and importantly the science fiction and detective fiction bookmarks lifted from the Punks’ safe. Tek had after some coercion filled his backpack with tools and equipment and some of his half finished inventions he just couldn’t bear to leave behind.
Without hesitation Empress Phere strode past Klendel, expecting him to fall in behind her. No matter how ill at ease around weapons her companion looked, he didn’t much want to take Phere on here and now. Reluctantly he followed her, hoping for the opportunity to get her alone later. “Where to?” he asked.
“Not sure yet.” Phere quickly replied, “But first things first we have to meet up with Abys.” Phere placed her hand to her ear. “Okay, he’s straight ahead, in the street adjacent to the marketplace. There are these military guys, you can’t miss them.”
“Who was that?” Klendel tried again. He couldn’t help but notice Phere’s abruptness, and her general unease around him.
“Nobody.” Phere said, striding onwards in silence.
--------
It was easy to lose your nerve in the pitch black twisting sewer tunnels that snaked beneath the city, Abys reasoned. Every little sound you heard sounded to your ears like the springing of an Eagles’ trap. You were always hearing rumours of how they preferred to capture you, so that they could eat you alive. She wasn’t one to pay heed to stupid gossip but couldn’t help but feel slightly unnerved as she traipsed through the foul smelling darkness. Abys seldom deemed to show her feelings, but it would have been apparent to any watching her that the thrill of the job she had felt at the castle had dissipated. There she was a shadow, a predator picking off the weak and stealing through the corridors. Here she felt more like the prey, stalked by monsters. What the hell was she doing anyway? Risking her life for some woman who for all intents and purposes might as well have dropped out of the sky a couple hours ago? The Empress had arrived with no explanation, wrested control of the gang and suddenly Abys was putting herself in mortal peril for this complete stranger…?
Abys’ train of thought was interrupted by the noise of something splashing through the sewage. She spun around just as a mutant leapt atop her, all snarling jaws and thick gobs of saliva dripping down onto her. Suddenly without warning mutants seemed to be coming from everywhere. With one arm she held the monster at bay while she swung her mechanical arm into its awful maw. The blow sent it flying off her and into the wall of the tunnel. Quickly she pushed herself up and glanced around. She was surrounded by mutants of all descriptions. For a long moment nobody moved, the mutants and the cyborg scrutinising one another, then Abys quickly blasted away a couple of the more threatening looking mutants with a spray of bullets from her arm. Immediately the crowd fell upon her and she was forced to duck and dodge through the flailing crowd of mutants.
--------
As they walked in silence through the dark streets, Phere had had one eye on Abys’ plight. She cursed under her breath but did little else to express her displeasure at this development. The way things had been going this was just par for the course. They slowed and then came to a stop a manhole in front of them. Phere tapped her feet impatiently and instructed it be opened, when Klendel showed no inclination to do so Tek begrudgingly obliged. He made to climb down but was scolded by Phere and told to step aside. In the distance there was sound of splashing, coming closer, and the roar of angry beasts. Abys limped/ran into the shaft of light, her leg dripping with blood where one of the mutants had got her. She clutched the Stolen Tome tight to her chest with one hand and began to quickly climb with the other. The echoing sound of the chasing mutants grew every second. Phere crouched down at the top of the manhole and reached down.
“Pass me the book.” She commanded. Abys didn’t stop to think about it, she passed the book up and continued climbing. Phere straightened up and as Abys’ head emerged through the manhole she kicked her in the face and then stomped down on her fingers. With a yelp of pain, but not of surprise Abys plunged back into the depths. Phere turned away before she even heard the slam of the assassin’s body hitting the floor. She was already moving before Tek had time to react.
“You bitch!” he yelled, aiming his rifle at the Empress. “You cold hearted bitch.”
“She was injured.” Phere said, stopping and turning to face the engineer. “She’d have slowed us down. Now move or die, I suggest move because I still have use for you.” For a moment the pair stood staring one another down. “Klendel, make this man cooperate.” As Tek spun to face him Klendel was already on top of him. The cog slammed a shadowy fist into his face, wrenched his rifle away from him and shoved him after the fleeing Empress.
Behind them the Screaming Eagles, having failed to find the Stolen Tome on Abys swarmed up the ladder and onto the streets. Some of the less sentient members of the gang huddled around her, taking bites out of her as she screamed in agony. Though even her flesh tasted vaguely of metal they didn’t mind, they were just glad of a meal.
Heaven Help Us | Make Room!!!! | I'm Not Okay (I Promise)
Hang 'Em High | The Only Hope For Me Is You | Zero Percent | Early Sunsets Over Monroeville | DESTROYA | Demolition Lovers | To The End
Surrender The Night | Disenchanted | The Ghost Of You | Party Poison | Vampires Will Never Hurt You | The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You
Hang 'Em High | The Only Hope For Me Is You | Zero Percent | Early Sunsets Over Monroeville | DESTROYA | Demolition Lovers | To The End
Surrender The Night | Disenchanted | The Ghost Of You | Party Poison | Vampires Will Never Hurt You | The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You