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GBCE · 08-26-2012, 04:07 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by eberron.

[color=#P4914]"So help me, when I find that kid he's lunch!" Ironjaw growled to himself as he looked around.

Finding himself surrounded by nothing more then boxes, crates and other junk, Ironjaw thought back to what to him felt like was only moments ago. He had been gleefully killing any human that tried to retake the lab. And while they weren't as strong or as smart as him, the other mutants and hybrids had their uses for keeping the army busy. But then.... then that kid showed up. All Ironjaw remembered was him....Ron was it?.... mutter something about show and tell, grab Ironjaw's small ear and then drag him here. And for what? To fight seven others who were dragged here as well?

"Heh, as long as I get to eat that kid then I guess I'll enjoy myself." With a crack of his knuckles Ironjaw started to climb one of the mountains of crates. As he climbed his mind began to wander towards one of the others that had been brought here "Thize. Another mutant, like me." Ironjaw stopped for a moment. "And yet.... he fights with.... bubbles?!?" With a snort, he countinued climbing. "Pathetic really."

As he neared the top, Ironjaw heard a screech and a loud bang against metal. "The hell?" Peering over a crate, he could make out a form flying in his direction. "So I guess that dragon...human... thing wants to make a scene huh?" Ironjaw reached behind himself and unclasped his rifle. "Guess I should thank Ron for letting me keep this. Maybe I'll eat him quick." Feeling the air against his tooth lined grin, Ironjaw took aim at Guillemet. "Ello beastie."

With an echoing blast of plasma, Ironjaw fired.[/color]

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GBCE · 08-26-2012, 06:12 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Pharmacy.

Moods never improve when your head is throbbing with anger, although the dragon was pretty sure the collision with the ceiling contributed significantly more. Despite her white-hot indignation, Guillemet was speeding along. She was pretty sure she was making substantial progress at finding the door, despite the fact that everything below her was a high-velocity blur of incomprehensibility.

It was a rather amateurish reconnaissance and she could had slowed down a bit and actually scanned for the exit (in fact, there were many). However, she was not much for pondering - takes too much time. Rather important time.

At this point of time, her choleric tendencies simmered down to a less potent annoyance because the dragon was pretty sure she was not making substantial progress at all in Operation: Get The Hell Out Of Here. Instead of changing her plans and listening to her common sense, Guillemet grumbled and groused at the infuriatingly infinite number of shelves in this damned place. Why were there so many? Who uses this dum—
[color=#P4914]
BAM.

A blinding flash and an equally searing pain crushed through her carpaced flank and shot through the rest of the body. She screeched in hurt surprise, followed by a cacophony of obscenities in several different languages. If she bothered to look closer, she would realize what had wounded her was a not exactly a bullet, but mostly definitely some sort of vaporous missile. Judging from the wound, the thing was a fine piece of technology. A narrow thing, charged with ionized light and a taste of future. A plasma shot, if you may.[/color]

Of course, she did not care for that technological crap she could have gleaned. She was very angry. She was also hurt. Also SHE WAS SHOT IN HER ASS. HER GODDAMN ASS OF ALL THE BODY PARTS THAT ARE ANATOMICALLY SHOOTABLE. THIS IS THE MOST EMBARRASSING AND EMOTIONAL EVENT OF HER LIFE. RRRGHHHH.

She squawked, hissed, and made other sorts of furious noises at the righteous burning of her scaly derriere. She was understandably indignant, especially when she was bouncing between the ergonomical minimalism between the spaces of the shelves. Smash. Spoons rusty enough to give tetanus at a glance plinked down. It was almost musical. Smash. A Drinking Bird had a few seconds of thematically appropriate flight. If it were alive, it would have cried tears of joy before it met its Maker on the floor. Smash. A Giant Novelty Mug Of No Importance. It was oddly shaped and probably made a reference to something. Which is lost because it was completely pulverized. Smash. Smash. Smash.

It was a rather humiliating ride down to the ground.

If it was any consolation, the gravity was much heavier than normal standards. Something truly of scientific importance – especially its abnormality could have gleaned information about how particles interacted with each other. It was pretty revolutionary but Guillemet was stubbornly sure if she had to choose. She would rather have the head of her assailant than a breakthrough in quantum physics. Now.

---
[color=#P4914]
“Got’cha down mate.”

A voice declared somewhere in the shelves. The shark-man smiled – a slash of a serrated grin appeared on his face as he drank in the delicious view of the falling beast like one does a good martini. He thought that comparison rather fitting. After all, he liked his targets the way he liked his alcohol – bitter, strong, and easy to knock out on He let out some sort of shark-analogue of a malicious chuckle. It was a good joke. Ironjaw always thought himself as sort of funny.

He was a funny man. Shark. Whatever.

In a congratulatory gesture to himself, Ironjaw blew out the smoke from his plasma rifle despite his ridiculous amount of teeth. It was pretty amazing that he managed to force air out from his lips instead of spittle considering his mouth is essentially a horror-fence of genetically-enhanced goodness, but he was fine. He managed to do fine. After all, he was forced against his will to become a goddamn shark. Part-shark. Whatever.

He hoisted his rifle (thanks to Roy eh heh heh) onto his shoulder and moved his bulk forward. He needed to make sure his target was down. And dead. He needed to make sure that the lady-dragon does not do anything stupid. It should be a relatively easy task. She was not too bright from the looks of the actions – or at least did not act smart if she was actually smart. Still, she might be a complete idiot. Ironjaw hated idiots. They were a waste. And deserved to be eaten, of course.

Ironjaw simply smiled again.[/color]

GBCE · 08-26-2012, 07:24 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by ThunderJolt.

As Axys darted across the room, he blocked most of his surroundings out of mind. His eyes were focused on one, and only one thing. The armored creature. Everything else became a blur as he swiftly leapt across boxes and crumbled remains of what was probably once forklifts or some other type of machinery. He didn't need to focus his eyes on anything else. He would let his other sense take care of the rest. If any surprises were waiting for him, or following him, he would probably hear it first. A small popping noise was heard, but it was such a small sound, such an insignificant sound, and was quickly dismissed as nothing to worry about. Nothing would keep him from the inevitable slaying he had in mind. But what was that noise... Gears turning? So faint, yet gradually increasing in volume... Was it... getting closer?

The armored creature jumped and waved her weapon around, but it was clear that even if she knew he was coming for her, she didn't know where he was coming from. Or so it seemed... Suddenly, she was wielding a hammer and smashed a stack of boxes toward the direction Axys was coming from. A flurry of dust, cardboard, socks and many other objects - which had sat idle, untouched for so long, forgotten, swirled like a blizzard in front of him. As annoying as it was, it didn't impede his sense of direction. But then another ear-shattering screech, preceded by the sound of some sort of weapon blasting, broke his concentration.

And then the gears were getting louder. It was following him, whatever it was.

And almost immediately, the mechanical demon was behind him, candles in hand. This foul creature needed to burn, needed to suffer. Such a sinful being would not escape his reach. He needed to hear this sinner's screams. The giant cluster of rotating cogs reached out, ready to strike with the candles, and set the creature ablaze...

Axys would have none of it. Without turning to face the attacker, Axys leaped back and neatly slit the candles in half. The Warden paused for a moment. Although the sound he had heard was gears turning, he wasn't really expecting his enemy to actually be exactly that.

"What the... what the hell are you?"

His tail twitched a little as he sent an irritated expression back at the Warden.

Eriz stood there, not quite sure what to make of the situation.

GBCE · 08-26-2012, 09:36 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by eberron.

[color=#P4914]From his perch a couple feet above the fallen dragon Ironjaw looked Guillemet over. "One shot to the ass and this is what happens?" Crouching down, he scoffed. "Truely pathetic. I'd have expected more of a fight, not such a show of...." Ironjaw stopped, unable to find the words that could best describe the sad sight below him. Letting his mind wonder for a moment, Ironjaw reached for the lid of a nearby crate.

Tossing the lid down on to Guillemet's head with a chuckle, taking note that the dragon winced slightly and was indeed still alive, Ironjaw reached in and pulled out a small sphere. Having never seen something like it before, atleast nothing that didn't explode anyway, Ironjaw twirled the object in his hand before biting the sphere. "Bleh! Rubber. Who would make something like this?" Looking in the crate, he realized that it was stuffed with sphere of every color. Sicken, Ironjaw chucked the sphere down onto Guillemet's head.

"What the?" Ironjaw watched as the sphere hit the dragons's head and bounce quite abit back into the air. Reaching over to grab another sphere, Ironjaw's mind pondered. "These could be rather interesting to use, if nothering more then to distract someone." Normally not one to use anything other then his own strengh, and the rare rifle shot, he decided to pocket afew. Looking down, Ironjaw saw that Guillemet was starting to come to. Glancing over, he grinned to himself and cracked his knuckles. "She plenty pissed at me anyway, might as well have some fun."[/color]

Guillemet's body ached. The shot in her rear was one thing, the crash landing another. As she lay on the floor trying to recover, Guillemet felt something heavy and made of wood crash onto her head, followed by laughter that was in turn followed by something small bounce off the part of her head not under the crate lid. "Your dead fool." Guillemet thought to herself as she shook the lid off of her face and slowly got to her feet. Abover her, Guillemet hear a scraping sound. Looking up, Guillemet only had time to mutter a curse towards her tormenter as a crate tipped over, raining hundreds of small, colorful spheres down on the dragon.

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GBCE · 08-27-2012, 01:12 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Flummox.

There was a flash of light and Felus whirled, nearly tumbling off of his mountain of boxes. He glanced at the ceiling. That was no lightning. That was science, some human invention. There must be humans in here, connected somehow with echoes of English curses. Instinctively, he began to run towards the direction of the light-source. An enemy of the enemy is a friend, his subconscious explained. He knew that this was foolishly dangerous, yet, he told himself, saving others from humans is why he forsook his godhood in the first place.

He gradually began to hear someone speaking, but their words were indistinct and the continual echoes of the building obscured any form of auditory focus he might have tried. An enormous human stood with his back to Felus, doing something with a crate in front of him.

“Hey!” Felus called in English. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Ironjaw turned, leaning nonchalantly on a crate. Felus backed up, hissing. He hadn’t expected the face of a shark.

“Or what?” said Ironjaw.

Felus made a show of flicking open a claw. “Step away from the box.” This was a hollow threat, and Felus knew it. Without any supporters, without any believers, there were no true legends. He was just a normal cat with a freakish ability to speak multiple languages. Helpless.

Ironjaw grinned, displaying his frighteningly ill-fitting array of teeth. The box slowly tipped over as he put his full weight on it. A shower of multicolored rubber balls rained down. What? thought Felus. What is he trying to accomplish?

Ironjaw took a step forward. Felus did not move – confidence was key.

“Stay back,” he said. “I’m warning you.”

Felus prepared to lunge, putting his weight on his hind legs and tightly coiling the muscles against his body. His claws slid out. As Ironjaw reached for the plasma rifle on his back, Felus sprang, landing on Ironjaw’s shoulder, pausing to slash four deep gouges below his eye, and jumped off before Ironjaw could react. He knew it was a foolish move, for now Ironjaw saw just how much less-than-dangerous he was.

He jumped down off the pyramid of boxes, next to Guillemet. He had to help her get away before Ironjaw came after them. He saw that she was bleeding heavily from the hind; she probably couldn’t stand.

“Listen,” he said. “We need to get out of here.”

No response. She was probably unconscious. He scrabbled at the pile of balls covering her face, and was shocked when he found a human head under the mess. No matter; he couldn’t leave anyone here to die. He could hear her story later. Taking one claw, he made a gash on her cheek. Startled eyes flew open and Felus barely avoided being kicked in the face.

“Wait! I’m here to help,” he said, noticing that Ironjaw was clambering down the pile of boxes. “We need to leave.”

Though she lost her footing on the rubber balls multiple times, Guillemet was able to stand. Felus was impressed. The dragon dwarfed Felus – no way would he be able to support her for long. She was only able to limp slowly.

“Listen,” he said. “That abomination is going to catch up to us and do something awful if you can’t go faster. Can you fly?”

“I HOPE SO.”

“Good. I’ll meet you later.”

Guillemet began to flap her wings. She was still weak from blood loss, but after a few false starts she began to feel her body weight easing off her legs. Too delirious to wonder why the hell a cat was talking to her without the proper facilities for human speech, not to mention brain capacity, she only nodded assent when Felus said, “Fly low, in between boxes! You don’t want to be shot again!”

Felus ran under her shadow as Ironjaw chased after them, screaming some sort of invective as a promise of revenge.

Stovie · 08-27-2012, 01:15 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Hobbesy.

What had previously been calming silence was immediately shattered by a chorus of smashing porcelain and crumbling mountains of cardboard. Something was making its way towards Dr. Schuster's position, and it sounded none too happy. For the second time in what must have only been five minutes he jumped up, and tactically operated to a pile of forgotten household items to the left of the corner he had been resting in. Making sure his revolver would be ready to fire if anything came, Schuster slowly began to slice the pie around his barrier of boxes. He only made it halfway through his maneuver before it was interrupted.

The report of a heavy weapon ricocheted towards his position from another end of the storage unit, followed by an inhuman cry of pain. What little calm resolve the doctor had was instantly shattered, and he carelessly discharged his revolver into the roof of the warehouse. Clearly Schuster would have to re-learn trigger discipline! Of course this would mean he was completely fucked now, as any of the creatures dumped around him would now likely be howling for a taste of delicious human blood. The only option left would be to move towards the sounds of clatter that weren't immediately followed by Eldritch howls from another dimension.

Breaking into a sprint Schuster actually made pretty decent time considering he was running through a veritable obstacle course composed of what could best be described as men's life magazines for demi-gods. It would appear that he was once again out of harm's way, as the sounds of fighting reverberated from aisles a decent ways away. Apparently his well honed skills in evading tentacle beasts were definitely helping with this current predicament! Of course this run of luck wouldn't stop him from predictably rounding a corner and smacking into the steel blue leg of a gigantic six armed robot suit. Paying attention, it would seem, would also be a useful skill in this particular arena.

--

Eriz wasn't entirely sure exactly what had stopped her from hammering through the walls in her path. Something had suddenly compelled her to look back to the path of destruction, even though there was nothing to be seen through the layers of debris left from her rampage. Beads of sweat ran down the curves of her face, the inanity of the situation setting in all at once.

The momentary reprise was interrupted by something colliding with the suit's leg.

"My lady," came the voice of Telt, "there appears to be another human in close proximity. His heart appears to be beating abnormally fast, and I can't fully identify his origin as Sauthai."

The armored suit was turned to face him around before Eriz had even finished. What she saw was hardly a threat however. Lying sprawled across the ground was a man hardly befit to fight Sauthai children.

GBCE · 08-27-2012, 02:39 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by SeventeenthSquid.

The good Doctor Schuster had seen many, many horrors in his short and brutal life. From the bloody battlefields of Starygrad, where he had to clean a man's brain matter out of a stalling tank engine while mortars exploded all around him, to the horrors of the hallway-beyond-space where countless eldritch entities sought to drain his very life force, Schuster was a man of the world. Worlds. Places between worlds. Whatever. Point is, Schuster knew a thing or two about fear.

And Schuster was afraid.

He scrambled backwards, one hand reaching for the pistol he had dropped after running into the machine's leg. The huge machine turned towards him, ponderously graceful on its quietly wheezing hydraulics. Oh no, he thought, it has a hammer. Oh no, he thought, that hammer is almost as big as I am. Just as his fingers finally found the runaway firearm, the machine lurched forward and in a single step closed the distance and placed one huge metal foot on his chest. He was slammed back into the floor, his arm spasming and knocking the pistol away from his reach. The metal foot on his chest was crushing his lungs. He could barely breath! He flailed at it with both arms but his fists ricocheted harmlessly off its cool metal surface. It raised its hammer back for the killing blow. Schuster closed his eyes, awaiting the end.

Imagine his surprise, then, when instead of a crushing hammerblow he instead heard the sweet, beautiful voice of a young woman, probably even younger than him! Schuster hadn't heard a voice like that in... well, a lot of Tatarstian women sound kinda like men, so actually not in about ten years. At least. Maybe his whole life.

"Stop wiggling, stupid Kyelz," she said. She sounded breathless, on the verge of panic. What the fuck is a Kyelz? he thought, still barely believing he was alive. "Something is following me," she continued, her strained voice emerging from a speaker somewhere in her expansive metal chest. "I need to keep moving."

With that, Schuster found himself suddenly able to breath again! He inhaled a few massive gulps of stale warehouse air, tasting faintly of dust, and prepared to climb to his feet.

Eriz let her foot up off Schuster's chest. Just as he was beginning to stand, she swung a massive hand down towards him and lifted him up by the back of his green jacket, hoisting him easily with one hand and flinging him over her shoulder, pinning him in place with the steel vice of her arm. One of her aux-arms swooped down to scoop up the fallen pistol and she continued charging through the stacks of crates, the disheveled man bobbing up and down on her shoulder as she ran.

"What the fuck is going on!" he howled, barely audible over the sounds of box-related carnage. Eriz didn't exactly have a good answer for that, so she didn't say anything, only continuing her relentless assault on the crates that blocked her path. She knew, now, where she was going. She was leaving.

GBCE · 08-27-2012, 08:15 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Pharmacy.

If there was a competition for the Most Interesting Expression In The Entire World, Felus would be a clear winner. Cats usually do not have the face plasticity of humans but screw that. He was a god. Cat-God. God-Cat. Either way really, but the point is he could have all the damn expressions he wants. Right now, Felus was going for the wide-eyed curious look. It was an honest expression – after all, cats are naturally curious creatures and the curiosity in question was a bizarre sort of dragon.

“UM.” The dragon named Guillemet spoke. Her face was a mockery of a human’s – comical and almost horrifying. It was a real piece of work and Felus wished Hominus would have seen this magnificent parody. His reaction would have been delicious.“YOU ARE A CAT.”

“What? No thank you or acknowledgement?” Felus sniffed as he somehow managed to swish his ridiculously long tail in mild but resigned annoyance. It was hard to say if he was more annoyed at the flagrant use of Humanese or the rudeness of his conversation partner. “If it were not for my actions, you would have become shark bait over there.”

“BUT.” Felus could watch the dragon’s face forever. Her current expression was a sort of stupid-looking surprise-gape and to be honest, it was absolutely hilarious. Of course, he would never say it to her face. “YOU ARE A CAT.” A pause. “A REALLY WEIRD-LOOKING NOODLECAT.”

“Well, you aren’t looking fine yourself,” Felus sniffed as he somehow managed to reach his paw (a feat considering his neck and legs were the same length) to his mouth. It was a lovely paw with delicate contours, perfectly shaped toes and paw-pads that felt so velvety under his tongue. It was the best paw. It also tasted like shark. “Is that a problem?”

The inconceivable lovechild between two incompatible forces lowered her head to the level of the former Cat-God (God-Cat), which Felus immediately disliked. He never liked humans and he never really like any reminder of that shoved in his righteous face. That was so undignified, man. “YOU. TALK.”

The divine feline experimentally flexed his paws and acted as if the resulting claws were so much more interesting than this conversation. “Well, used to have a job upstairs but I left out of choice. Got to keep some benefits though.”

The dragon’s head reared up and made a rather ear-splitting noise that sounded like a chainsaw. Or a power drill. Or a very out-of-tune violin. Regardless of the comparisons, it was pretty clear that Guillemet was not accepting the Super Implication Of His Divinity (well, Former Divinity but let’s not get a little too nitpicky shall we). Felus would have supplanted his claim with some proof –say some mumbo-jumbo miracle or other weird hoodoo, but he left his godhood on some doorstep a while ago.

“BUT YOU ARE A CAT,” the voice bellowed upstairs.

“Well, excuse me.” Felus sniffed. “I happen to be a very special cat.”

“DON’T BE SILLY. CATS CAN’T HOLD JOBS. THEY DON’T EVEN HAVE OPPOSABLE THUMBS.”

“I lived fine without any thumbs. Can you?”

“WHY WOULD I LIVE WITHOUT THUMBS. THE MERE NOTION OF A LIFE WITHOUT THUMBS IS UTTERLY RIDICULOUS. ALLOW ME TO PROVE YOU THE SUPERIORITY OF A DIGIT-ENRICHED LIFE WITH A SIMPLISTIC MECHANICAL ACTION BY YOURS TRULY.”

“W-what?” Felus would have more to say but he had two wings to dodge. There were smallish human hands at the tips and the previously-a-Cat-God (God-Cat) loathed the possibility of his fur making contact with those disgusting things. “Whatever you are doing, stop that!”

“CAN’T YOU SEE I AM TRYING TO PICK YOU UP. MY ACTIONS ARE ABSOLUTELY SAFE.” The assurance was not exactly comforting especially since she was a science-breathing lizard “TRUST ME I’M A SCIENTIST.”

“Stop!” Felus hissed. “I am warning you one last time!”

“NO YOU STOP. YOU ARE TOO FAST AND FURRY BUT MOSTLY TOO FAST AND -AGH.”

Guillemet flinched back and examined the little sting of pain on her hand. Her blood was blue, but she still managed to see red.“YOU LITTLE TURD,” she sounded incredulous and increasingly temperamental. “YOU FUCKING SCRATCHED ME.”

“And you touched me,” Felus bristled up and hissed again. “Now, there is a stink on my fur and it’s not coming out no thanks to you!”

“WELL BOO-FUCKING-HOO MISTER STINKYPANTS. THAT IS SO SAD. LOOK AT ME LEAKING MELANCHOLY AND LACHRYMOSE NOW KEEP GODDAMN STILL. I NEED TO PROVE MY DIGIT SUPERIORITY TO YOU ONCE AND FOR ALL.”

Of course, Felus did not listen. He was too busy hopping away on the tip-tops of shelves, as far away from where there the meeting originated. Unsurprisingly, the dragon went after him – promising that she would totally not hurt him and whatever strange action she does would be absolutely safe. However, the former Cat-God (God-Cat) was not too sure on that. He may not be part of the pantheon club anymore but he still had experience. And experience told him to keep looking forward and never look back.

Gatr · 08-27-2012, 06:40 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by ~ATH.

"What the.... What the hell are you?"

"I am the Warden of the Sixth Ring of Inferno. And you are a sinner, charged with several counts of remorseless murder. Prepare for an eternity of torment."

"Ha! You mean those scientists? They were weak, unable to control me, unable to hold me in one place. The same as you! I will never allow you to restrain me! Never!"

With that, Axys deftly backflipped onto the mountain of crates behind him and left, to deal with something less troublesome than... a giant thing made of cogs. A brief fleeting thought crossed his mind. How could he kill this mechanical demon? It came as quickly as it appeared, and he resolved to think about that later. For now, he had weaker people to kill. He would have pondered further, about how the Warden knew that he was a mass murderer, but he already had the thrill of the fight coursing through his veins. He would not be distracted until he splattered blood all over the walls. This would be a bloodbath. He grinned.

Warden made to pursue him further, but he realized he wouldn't be able to catch up with Axys if the sinner kept running away. He was much too fast for him. The first time, he was only able to catch up because Axys got interrupted by a barricade another contestant made. So, he needed to pursue someone else for the time being, all the while turning this arena into a maze. He drifted towards the building's exit, randomly sending steel fists crashing into the crate hills, covering his tracks.

As he passed by a mountain of crates, it exploded forth, debris harmlessly bouncing off of Warden's immense body. An armored suit burst forth from the household carnage, holding another person on its shoulder. Their jaws dropped in shock, and Warden was given a chance to truly study some other contestants. He looked towards the one clad in armor, the one named Eriz Col-Myel. Her resonance threaded itself within his mind, and he saw a clear blue line, no harsh knots. Born and raised to be a soldier, she had killed nobody yet, and she has an inner desire to be something else. This woman was not a sinner.

His attention turned to the other one. A humble engineer who desires nothing more than to survive in a crazy world. His timeline however, rippled fairly recently, and Warden simply could not ascertain why, but eventually he decided it wasn't a sin, as he was an expert at categorizing sins. He saw no sins in either of those two, so he simply floated and remained nearly silent, the only noise being his constant ticking and whirring. Still shocked, the two just stood and stared at this unholy monstrosity. Warden's mind was churring, thinking of what to do next. Following this unfortunate revelation that not everybody else in this competition was a sinner, he decided that this was not a mission to rein in the sinners, but rather a mission to overthrow the most powerful sinners of all, the Coach and his kids. They looked innocent, to be sure, but Warden knew what they really were. Powerful god-like embodiments of sin, with a false charade of caring and youthfulness. Yes, he reassured himself. Lucifer needed his help in taking these creatures down. And he would not disappoint Lucifer. No matter what.

He turned and floated away without saying a word. Eriz and Dr. Schuster both decided to take this opportunity to run away, but before they could even twitch, Warden's words boomed forth.

"Eriz Col-Myel, Dr. Franz von Schuster. I have been assigned a mission to take in this false god who calls himself The Coach, for eternal torment. I am in need of expert engineers. Will you assist me in eliminating this threat to humanity?"

He had come up with an excellent plan.

GBCE · 08-27-2012, 07:22 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by eberron.

[color=#P4914]He couldn't belive what just happen! "That cat attacked me! I hate cats! Can't even eat them! Too damn furry!" Ironjaw fumed as he gave chase. He wanted to tear that furball limb from limb. But even with his blood boiling, Ironjaw quickly saw that two legs could not keep pace with a cat and a dragon in flight. With a curse, Ironjaw swung his fist into the nearest crate, shattering it and the mirror held within.

Looking down and staring at his reflection in one of the shards Ironjaw couldn't help but smirk abit. "Not too shabby of him. Still going to rip him apart though." Looking around, he found himself alone. "Hmph, can't even finish a fight." Ironjaw grumbled as he started walking down one of aisles nearby. He needed something to sink his teeth into. Or someone. Ironjaw remembered that there were five others in the building. But just as quickly as the idea of snacking on one of them form, so too did an idea that made his belly lurch. "Bah, I guess I shouldn't piss all of them off at the same time. Enemies close, lunch closer." As much as the idea sickened him, Ironjaw knew he had no choice.[/color]

"Eriz Col-Myel, Dr. Franz von Schuster. I have been assigned a mission to take in this false god who calls himself The Coach, for eternal torment. I am in need of expert engineers. Will you assist me in eliminating this threat to humanity?"

[color=#P4914]Glancing around a pile of boxes, Ironjaw saw three of the other contestents. Two humans and....some flying clock..thing. "Not what I wanted to see but if theres a chance I can kill that old man and those kids along with these 3 then so be it." he muttered to himself as he pulled one of the small spheres from his pocket. With a flick, Ironjaw let the ball bounce off the male humans foot.

"If you plan on taking out this Coach fellow, perhaps I can offer up some...muscle?" Ironjaw calmly offered as he walked towards the group, hands palm-side out and trying he best to hide a building tooth fill smile and the urge to eat the humans. "This isn't going to be easy" he thought to himself.[/color]

GBCE · 08-27-2012, 09:44 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by ThunderJolt.

Axys thought it to be a little strange that someone knew of events in his life such as that. Perhaps that kid rambled a bit more than he remembered from the introductions? Or perhaps it wasn't that strange; many people did know of the "unidentified beast" who was responsible for attacks in the city. And the technically-not-home planet he had resided in for so long definitely had some odd life-forms (or at least creatures that an Earth human would find strange). But a species made entirely out of rotating gears? He couldn't recall anything like that. Also what the hell was the Sixth Ring of Inferno anyway.

Though he wouldn't admit it, that thing freaked him out a little. And how exactly would he fight a big mass of cogs? Well, the thing was gone now. Guess it wasn't really interested in another chase. Good, he wasn't interested in getting lectured about sins or crap like that anyway. Plus the multi-limbed armor thing had disappeared too.

But that wasn't going to stop the clouds from raining blood down. There were plenty of victims to choose from. Five in fact, he realized, noting that Eriz and the Warden had run off. He would carve them up like one would carve up meat for a feast. Of course, messing around with people was the best part, so that would come first.

He stopped. He closed his eyes to listen, letting the sound flow to his ears. Boxes being destroyed... Hissing? Then a few seconds later, more shouting and screeching from the idiot who had the bright idea to fly into the roof. As much as he wanted to shut her up, Axys didn't feel it was worth it to go after her, it just wouldn't be interesting.

...Or would it? Certainly in such an enraged state as she was, draining her energy would be a simple task.

...But then again, maybe not. This would involve getting close enough to her to actually grab onto her somehow, and with all the thrashing about she was doing, that might end up being rather difficult. Maybe he should go after someone else, he thought. He continued listening for other sounds, focusing on faint sounds that could possibly give one's position away. Needless to say it was hard to drown out the incessant dragon noise.

With the tail hand, he latched onto a nearby shelf, and crept along the side, swinging his way alongside it. He remained alert. Watching. Listening. Stealthily creeping.

Finally, he heard something. The slightest sound. The shuffling of a box. A careless noise. He swung up and perched himself at the top of the shelf.

A mutant fish could be seen below trying to stay hidden in the shadows. He hadn't noticed the arrival of a new guest who was ready to meet his acquaintance, with blood.

Axys grabbed a box with the tail-hand, disturbing age old dust and cobwebs. He chucked the box down in front of Thize. Whoever the owner was of the fancy glass china-plate set that had been in the box would probably be weeping now if they knew what had become of their expensive belongings. Thize immediately turned to face Axys.

"Hehe, I'd be krill-ful if I were you," he said, obviously full of himself. He smiled, realizing this would be the time to prove himself. He was the best after all.

"Oh no, I think you are the one who should be careful," Axys said, his mouth slowly curling back into a smile.

GBCE · 08-27-2012, 09:47 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by ThunderJolt.

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GBCE · 08-27-2012, 09:52 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by eberron.

ThunderJolt Wrote:

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SpoilerAugh, missed eberron's reserve. I hope that doesn't ruin anything for you eberron... I can change things if necessary.

Also, looks like we're quickly catching up in post count compared to other S! battles!

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GBCE · 08-27-2012, 10:58 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by SeventeenthSquid.

Eriz burst through a stack of crates in a flurry of undershirts and belts. As the dust and debris settled out of the air, she noticed something very large and strange floating overhead: something composed of gears and cogs, its center a slowly spinning skull. Four long arms dangled below its floating body. Eriz had a vague memory of it being introduced along with the other combatants but she remembered nothing about it. However, anything with a skull face was likely bad news. But as she spun on her heel to run back the way she had come, it spoke to her.

"Eriz Col-Myel, Dr. Franz von Schuster. I have been assigned a mission to take in this false god who calls himself The Coach, for eternal torment. I am in need of expert engineers. Will you assist me in eliminating this threat to humanity?"

Eriz stopped mid-step. How did it know his name? I guess it must have remembered it from the introductions. Well, at least it didn't want her dead. Not right now, at least. She turned back around to face it, the mirrored black dome of her face meeting its leering skull. Sweat was starting to run down into her eyes; two tiny limbs emerged from the interior of her face-dome, tipped with tiny sponges, and wiped at her face. She gathered herself for a moment before replying.

"Who are you? And how do you know my name?" she said, her voice much quieter than the boom of the infernal machine. "I know a great many things, Eriz," it replied. "I know quite a bit about your past, and the past of your... companion," it continued, indicating the struggling Doctor Schuster with one arm. He was wiggling quite a bit, and seemed to be gasping for breath. With a start, Eriz realized she had been crushing his chest between her shoulder and arm. She released her vice grip on him and he dropped to the floor, wheezing.

"You crazy bitch! You nearly killed me!" he shouted, followed by a great deal of cursing that she couldn't really follow. Just as he was climbing to his feet, something colorful and round bounced against his foot. Eriz spun, combat instincts kicking in as she tried to track where it had come from. She immediately saw the thrower, as he made no attempt to hide his massive bulk; a twisted humanoid, taller than a human but still shorter than her armored height. His arms bulged with knots of muscle under his tightly-stretched skin and his mouth was full with multiple rows of sharp teeth. A finned tail dragged on the ground behind him.

[color=#P1914]"If you plan on taking out this Coach fellow, perhaps I can offer up some...muscle?"[/color] he said past a mouthful of pointy teeth as he walked forward, palms out. Eriz' first reaction was to raise her hammer in a two-handed grip, aux-arms turning to focus both Dr. Schuster's appropriated (and hopelessly primitive) firearm and her laser emitter on the aberration's beady eyes. She stared at the thing, barely believing the twisted mockery of humanity that she saw.

[color=#P1914]"What's the matter?"[/color] it said as it continued to walk forward. [color=#P1914]"I'm not going to eat you. You look a little heavy on the iron, heh heh heh."[/color] Its laugh was something that Eriz could do very well without ever hearing again.

Warden spun in the air to face the newcomer. He tasted the thing's resonance and found... a very dark past. Filled with pain, it wove like a crimson strand of barbed wire through his mind, dripping with agony, some his own, but much caused by him. And a name. Ironjaw. Ironjaw was a killer, and Warden did not like killers. Not one bit.

GBCE · 08-29-2012, 02:13 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by eberron.

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GBCE · 08-30-2012, 01:59 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Flummox.

Tick, tock

“I am the Warden of the Sixth Ring of Inferno,” he began to advance slowly on Ironjaw as he played back his statement of intent. “You are a sinner, charged with several counts of remorseless murder.”

[color=#P1914]“Ey, ease up, mate!” said Ironjaw, laughing nervously and backing into a crate. “I’m tryin to help you!”[/color]

“Prepare for an eternity of torment.” Warden charged, slamming a steel fist into the stack of boxes directly behind Ironjaw. Wooden splinters peppered Ironjaw’s face.

Eriz tracked the receding figures for a moment. An abnormally large and fast-moving splinter was highlighted from behind the black mirror and Eriz spun on one foot to avoid it, though in truth it probably wouldn’t have dented her armor.

[color=#P1914]“Hey!” said Ironjaw. “I know I’ve killed my share of scientists, but they had it coming!”

Warden’s slowly spinning skull’s face was silent and emotionless. Ironjaw ducked the swing of an elbow and came up with a powerful uppercut that most likely would have severely injured his hand if he hadn’t lost his footing on a rubber ball. He fell, cursing as his fist uncurled to break his fall.[/color]

Eriz began to run away from Warden and Ironjaw. A soft whirring sound emitted from her Sauthorn. Her heart began to pound from adrenaline that was obsolete and unnecessary.

“Hey!” said Dr. Schuster, but Eriz could not hear him over the sound of her breathing, which was echoing around inside her helmet.

Tick, tock, tick

[color=#P1914]“I ain’t done nothin wrong!” said Ironjaw, trying to grab hold of the unfortunately smooth floor as the Warden’s metal hand closed around his leg and pulled him steadily backwards.[/color]

“My lady,” said Telt, “there appears to be a male human following you. His heart rate is dangerously high, most likely from exertion.”

“We will begin our first session with –“ Warden paused as Ironjaw’s plasma rifle blasted a chunk out of his arm. Molten steel dripped down his arm and sizzled. Ironjaw wriggled free and began to run.

“Goddamn Kyelz,” Eriz muttered, swinging around to hoist Schuster onto her shoulders.

Tick, tock

“You will not escape punishment.” Warden put on his best show of speed. Two sinners getting away was far too much; he could not afford this loss of efficiency – spending time and energy chasing a sinner only for them to escape. Sparks began to fly from his cogs.

Eriz pushed her Sauthorn to its limit. Looking back, she could still see splinters flying from Warden’s path.

As Ironjaw ran around and over crates, Warden violently shoved them out of his path. A horrid grating sound crawled out of Warden’s body, the sound of gears sliding sideways and skipping teeth.

Ironjaw slid under a makeshift archway formed by a pile of boxes. One particularly long crate acted as the keystone. Warden saw none of this before his arm cleared the entire setup in one blow. The keystone crate, damaged but intact, went sailing to the left. It crashed to the floor, narrowly missing a cat, who nimbly avoided it.

Felus looked back and saw Guillemet barreling towards him, wings flapping frantically and still shouting promises of safety. Obviously false promises. The crate was blocking his path; it was far too large to climb over. She was going to catch him and do god-knows-what to him and that would be the end of his career as a rebel leader.

“Wait!” he said as she caught up to him. “You know how you can prove that thumbs are superior?”

Guillemet paused. “HOW.”

“By picking up this box.”

She considered this option. “IT MAY BE HEAVY CONSIDERING ITS PERCEIVED VOLUME.”

Felus slowly backed away. “Ah, but what good are thumbs if you can’t pick up heavy things?”

“VERY WELL.” Guillemet approached the crate and grasped it under the lid. “LET ME DEMONSTRATE.”

She began to lift the crate, obviously quite straining work. Felus began to eye the narrow gap between the bottom of the crate and the floor. Once it was high enough, he’d slip under and have his escape from this monster. It seemed to go on forever.

“ARE YOU EVEN WATCHING.”

“Of course! I take offense at that accusation.” He edged closer to the crack between the box and the floor. Then the nails attaching the lid to the crate tore out of their holdings and the crate dropped straight down. Felus yelped and jumped as it landed on his tail. There was something very heavy in there.

“HAVE I DEMONSTRATED SUFFICIENTLY THAT OPPOSABLE DIGITS ARE SUPERIOR.” Guillemet looked at him expectantly.

“Umm. No.” What should he say now? “To demonstrate, uh, the capability of fine manipulation, you should take out whatever is in this box.”

She looked annoyed. Did he say something wrong? But she reached inside the box and pulled out an odd looking contraption, staring into his eyes the entire time.

“SURELY NOW YOU KNOW THAT THUMBS ARE MORE ADVANCED.”

“Uh, um,” He had to keep stalling. “Put that thing down over here, so you can show, uh, precision and motor control.”

Her eyebrows formed a question mark. “VERY WELL, BUT THIS WILL BE ALL.” She placed the machine upright next to Felus. It was shaped like a spire, covered in knobs and wires and supported on three stubby little legs. It was maybe three meters tall. As soon as Guillemet set it down, he leapt up and scaled it, using dials as footholds and pulling himself up using wires.

“YOU,” said Guillemet, “WHAT—“

Felus placed his final footstep on a large red button.

“ARE YOU—“

The machine began to hum, a low crescendo.

“Goddamn science,” said Felus.

GBCE · 08-30-2012, 03:08 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Pharmacy.

A reserve has been perscribed

GBCE · 08-30-2012, 03:31 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by ThunderJolt.

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Thize was certainly confident. No signs of faltering, no signs of being even slightly intimidated. Not an ounce of fear was present as far as Axys could tell. Axys jumped down from the shelf. The two were locked in a standoff, Axys with his blade-arms ready, Thize doing... something with his hands?

"Heh, I don't think you understand, you're about to be schooled by a fish," he just couldn't resist that pun.

"Enough of your damn fish puns," Axys said with an irritated look.

---

Warden kept of his pursuit of Ironjaw, continuing to ignore the crates and boxes and shelves in his way and just plowing through them. Ironjaw may have pledged to assist him in taking down the Coach, but he was a sinner, and the Warden would not tolerate that, nor would he think twice about even teaming up with one. At least not for now.

[color=#P1914]"Oy, I said I'd help ya didn't I?" Ironjaw called back as he weaved his way around the copious stacks of crates.[/color]

---

Thize held both hands out. Slowly, a single large bubble began to form. He began to shape it and make it a little more compact, and quickly and undetectably slipped something into it.

"What the hell are you doing? You think you can fight me with a bubble?"

Well, Thize hated to burst his bubble, but Axys was in for a bit of a surprise. He launched the bubble.

[color=#P1914]Suddenly, Ironjaw ran out from behind some crates. "'Ey mate, what the hell is your problem?" he shouted at the Warden, who smashed through the crates just seconds behind him. He fired a couple of shots from his plasma rifle, but it didn't seem to deter the Warden.

The bubble hit the ground. A huge, blinding flash emanated from the point of impact. Axys was blinded by the light. Ironjaw, not expecting the sudden blinding light to the face, tripped and fell to the ground. Warden too was thrown off guard.[/color]

Nearby, Eriz was running with Schuster not far behind when the flash bomb went off. Luckily her faceplate protected her eyes, however Schuster wasn't as lucky. She stopped as she lost track of where she was going. The exit was her destination. But, uh, was this the right direction?

Guillemet, still confused about Felus's actions, let out an angry series of squawks and hisses (with the occasional curse word thrown in). "RAAAAHHHHHH! CAN'T FUCKING SEE! WHO THE HELL DID THAT"

Felus was nearly thrown off of his spire but managed to hold on.

Although blinded, Axys kept his other senses open in case anyone tried to come after him.

GBCE · 08-30-2012, 03:34 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by ThunderJolt.

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Elpie · 08-30-2012, 05:45 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Lord Paradise.

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Stovie · 08-30-2012, 10:20 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Hobbesy.

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GBCE · 08-30-2012, 11:43 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by eberron.

Lord Paradise Wrote:

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SpoilerYou are not allowed to double-reserve. It confuses things.

Good work from everyone! [img]images/smilies/icon_heartbeat.gif[/img]

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GBCE · 08-31-2012, 03:08 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Pharmacy.

Felus was surprised.

For starters, there was a gaping hole in the wall – courtesy of the now shattered machine. Although to be honest, it was more a gaping chasm than a neat little breach. It was like if the wall was torn off by a great force – which was not surprising considering the conclusion to Guillemet’s stupid little experiment was quite explosive. The hole led yet another room full of shelves and knick-knacks.

Of course, it was not the only hole. From a cursory glance, there were a few more in the distance - and a few more forming. In fact, the former Cat-God (God-Cat) had no doubt the general integrity of the Coach’s warehouse has been significantly weakened. Felus honestly did not mind, he could use more breathing place – even if it means trudging through yet another omnipotent entity’s property.

Also, there were cats. Thousands of them.

Felus was surprised in the blinking and slack-jawed sort of way, which is saying a lot considering he was a former god and presumably saw the things in the world that he was meant to see. Apparently, the destruction of the machine had liberated cats. Yes, thousands of them in all sizes and shapes. There were small ones, large ones, not-so-large ones. Some were furry. Some were not. Some shedded places. Some did not. Some had odd-eyes, crossed-eyes, some eyes, no eyes. Some were tuxedos. Some wore tuxedos. There were stripes, polka-dots, plaid, and the occasional neon-green. Siameses, Persians, Maine Coons, American Shorthairs, American Longhairs, lions and tigers and Bengals, oh my. Shit son, there be a lot of cats.

And there were.

A tiny little kitten of indeterminate breed crawls forth. He was stripey and fuzzy and adorable but his hair was matted the point of dreadlocking and there were bald spots in places. His moony eyes darted back and forth as though he was suspicious of something following close to him. He trembled to the point that he was ready to wet the floor at any moment. He looks like if he was in a desperate need of a BLT, perhaps a bit of a TLC. In short, his appearance was more suited to being in an ASPCA commercial than in a storage park

“W-we have been liberated.” He managed to squeak out. His tone was fearful but grateful. “By you.”

“What?” Felus looked in horror at the mangy masses. What kind of malicious entity managed to do this atrocious tragedy on such a number of felines? Felus found indignant fury welling up in his former-omnipotent heart. This was not fair, not fair at all. “Who is the culprit of this? Who is behind this deed?”

“The Cultivator did this to us,” an elderly voice quavered from a particularly dirty cat. He was skinny and covered in a substance that Felus found repulsive to identify. Whatever it was, it was not sanitary at all. Ew. “A mercurial she-beast with a predilection for placing things into places that aren’t appropriate and therapy.”

“WHAT?” The former Cat-God (God-Cat) bristled at that name. That name sounded of nonredeemable evil. “How could she do this to you?

“She has a way,” the cat was started to get a little too into his explanation. “That long-haired demoness has a way. She plucks innocents out and places them into things. Although for cats, she likes to place them into military-grade weaponry. God knows why.”

“That’s horrible!” Felus exclaimed. This Cultivator made the Coach sound like small potatoes. How could existence let her be?

“Also,” the elderly cat interjected. “She talks like this~”

Felus frowned. “That’s just disgusting.”

“I know,” the elderly cat brought down his head. “Now, we must thank you.”

And so all the cats, big and small, thanked Felus. Each meow, a gratitude. Each purr, an acknowledgement. The scene was heartwarming enough to melt a feline-aficionado’s heart and make an internet meme site collapse under the pressure of sudden traffic, but Felus felt something more. He felt it flowing warm into mind. He felt it welling deep into his divine heart. He felt it filling up every artery, vein, and capillary in his corporeal body. So concrete, so real. This was the one feeling he missed from his halcyon days.

It was the power of belief.

“Hear me, hear me,” Felus felt it appropriately cinematic to climb up a pile of junk, attracting the thankful audience below. “Hear me, He Who Is Better Than You. I am the Slayer of Vermin, Wounder of Idiots And People Who Are Too Touchy. I am the Liberator of Cats” the flock below cheered at such an appropriate moniker “the Piercer of Prey, the Slicer of Humans.” His speech became more voluminous and rich – it was almost divine. Meanwhile, a nearby female cat spontaneously went into heat at the mere sound of his voice.

“I had left my power. Now I had return,” Felus suddenly floated a couple of inches above his perch. His eyes and the back of his throat shined in increasing intensity. If a keen-eyed man were to look closer, they could just see a faint halo swirling around his head. “I AM ALPHA. I AM OMEGA. I AM FELUS THE GOD OF –”

“What?” A fairly large tomcat yelled from the crowd.

Whenever it was from the strain of his own power or the sudden interjection, Felus felt face flat onto a charred book. So close, yet so far! He felt a bit of divine power flowing back into his body, but it was not the glory of his former days. The return was minute…minuscule! He could do everything, everything short of a divine act. What the hell had happened?

“WHAT, DO YOU NOT BELIEVE IN GODS?” It was fairly obvious that Felus was still in god-mode - mentally of course.

“Well, you want to pretend to be one, sure,” the tomcat shrugged. “But being trapped in a physics-violating chassis by a deity-level being kind of makes you lose faith in omnipotent entities. Of course, we still would follow you in any way. We think you are cool. Well, at least I think you are cool.”

“Oh.” Felus groaned and rubbed his paws on his temples. Not only they were useless, they were also agnostic atheists. This was the worst possible scenario to be in. On the other hand, they still believed in him – not as a god, but as a leader, a paragon – a hero. But a hero ain’t exactly a god.

This was the worst best situation he had gotten himself into. Or was it the best worst situation. He could not tell.

“So what should we do?” An errant cat asked.

“Oh uh. Hold on, I need to get my mighty steed!” Felus declared. What are heroes supposed to do? From what he remembered (as if he cared), heroes tend to companions in which they rode on. Well, at least that was what those under the jurisdiction of Homnius tend to have. He loathed to go down the path of his enemy, but that was all he could think of now.

“You have a horse?” The assembly gasped and murmured amongst themselves, giving Felus a teeny-weeny halo of glow – just barely.

“Y-yes, in fact,” Felus nearly skipped over his words and landed into un-heroic stammer. “In fact…I have her right here!”

---

“WAIT W-WHAT.” On the other hand, Guillemet landed face flat into stutter territory. “WHAT IS GOING ON.”

Guillemet should be technically angry at herself for how easily duped she was. First, she was tricked by a LITTLE GIRL. That was what had gotten her into the mess. She was presently tricked by a cat. A goddamn Felis catus. If she was any more unstable, she would have spontaneously exploded out of embarrassment. Or killed the noodlecat. Either would had improved her mood significantly.

“WHY AM I COVERED IN CATS.”

She was angry, but she was also surprised, hurt, and had a hankering for the theoretical taste of Coach’s face. She was also really confused. It was not every day you get assaulted by an army of felines. There were a lot. Clumps of mobile fur clinging onto every spine, shell, and scale. It did not really hurt, but it was rather annoying. And confusing. And everything else in her current mood list. Now, she was even more confused.

Emotions were complicated, like hormones.

“WHY AM I COVERED IN CATS.” Guillemet looked like if she was in a fur coat. Since dragons are not meant to wear human clothes (or equivalents of human clothes), she look practically ridiculous. Guillemet felt her face flush blue. She looked soooooooooooo stupid.

“Hi,” Felus floated into her view.

“WOAH,” Guillemet reared back in draconic surprise. “WHY ARE YOU GLOWING.”

“Well, I am a Hero of the People,” Felus shrugged. “Or Hero of the Felines, really.”

“WHY ARE YOU FLOATING,” the overgrown lizard shoved her uncomfortably human face into the former Cat-God (God-Cat)’s mug again, much to the chagrin of the latter. “CATS SHOULD NOT FLOAT AT ALL.”

“They believe heroes could fly,” the oddly-proportioned cat explained. And then, he brought his muzzle to Guillemet’s ear. “Their only source of entertainment during their imprisonment was ‘Superman: The Animated Series.’”

The dragon blinked her eyes in surprise. “WHY DO YOU MAKE NO SENSE WHATSOEVER,” Guillemet growled. “ALSO WHY AM I COVERED IN GODDAMN CATS.”

“For now on in their eyes, you are my steed.” The cat raised a dramatic paw to the sputtering light on the roof. “As such, you must carry the burden of me and my followers.”

“WHAT,” Guillemet snarled, showing her many, many horrifying teeth. “I AM UNDER NO DOMAIN OF ANYONE. YOU HEAR ME.”

“The cats are under my command. Also with that amount of cats on you, you can’t fly. At all.”

“I AM GUILLEMET THE ELDER OF SAN FRANCIS. I LORD OVER THE POOR AND THE RICH. THE DISTRICTS AND SUB-SECTORS ARE MY HOME YOU HEAR ME. I KEEP WATCH OVER SKYSCRAPERS AND SHIT COOLER THAN YOU CAN EVEN IMAGINE IN YOUR STUPID FLOATY CAT BRAIN. YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO. YOU JUST WATCH.”

Of course, there were a ridiculous amount of cats on her and while dragons were creatures of might and adversary, Guillemet was not exactly known for her constitution amongst her peers. She hissed and spat, made threats of grievous harm and injury. Unfortunately for her, Felus and his furry pals had the upper hand – for now. As for right now, she had to grumble and walk-hop to the hole leading to the next room, carrying in tow the Liberator of Cats and his Followers.

GBCE · 08-31-2012, 04:25 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by eberron.

"Well that went swimmingly" said a voice with a laugh.

[color=#P4914]Ironjaw moaned, not from pain but from the pun. "Be thankful I can't see you cause so help me, make another pun like that and I'll tear your lips off." As he slowly got to his feet, he noticed that Warden hadn't gotten hold of him yet. "Seems like that clock couldn't handle that flash any better then I could. Lucky me." Rubbing his eyes, Ironjaw could still hear laughter. "What the hell is so funny?" Ironjaw fumed, his vision slowly forming a blurry shape off to his left.[/color]

Thize smiled as he watched the shark man struggle. "I just can't kelp myself. Watching you fall on your face was soo finny! It's even finnier watching you flounder on the floor since your part fish!" Thize fell onto his rear in a fit of giggles. "And the look on that clocks face." Thize laughed harder. "It was great. This is going to be a whale of a tail when I get...

[color=#P4914]BLAM

Thize was cut off as a plasma bolt whizzed past his head and shattered the crate behind him.

"Are you FINished or do I need to clam your mouth shut?" Ironjaw growled as he rubbed the last of the fuzz from his eyes. His vision clear, Ironjaw realized that he was looking at the other hybrid fish-human. "Heh, should have guessed it was you by those puns." Stopping long enough to see if Warden was stalking him again Ironjaw chuckled at Thize. "You don't look tough at all. What could that kid have seen in you to make them drag you here?[/color]

"I fight with bubbles! Isn't that fin-tastic?"

[color=#P4914]Ironjaw couldn't belive what he just heard. "Bubbles?!? Are you kidding me? No one fights with bubbles. They fight with this." Ironjaw held up his rifle. "Or this." Swinging his arm, Ironjaw punched a deep hole into the side of a nearby crate. "Bubbles?" he scoffed. "Those puns are deadlier. You'd make someone shoot their head off." Lifting his rifle up, Ironjaw took aim at Thize's head. "Then again, puns like those can also make someone want to shoot YOUR head off. Heh, maybe after I'm finished, I'll enjoy some nice fishsticks."[/color]

"Now that's no very finny at all" Thize frowned.

Tick Tock

[color=#P4914]"Son of a.." Ironjaw cursed.[/color]

Stovie · 08-31-2012, 08:41 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Hobbesy.

What had previously been a relatively ridiculous situation had become absolutely ludicrous.

Suddenly everything had become felines.

Between the hideous grins of experiments gone wrong, the terrifying visages of demons from another plane, and now flashbang bubbles, Eriz was left unsure of what would be a reasonable course of action would be. This was, of course, until she took notice of the rather large hole which was conveniently located directly in front of her. Surely this would be the escape route Eriz had been so painfully longed for! With a swing of her robotic arms the cats taking up the path to the breech were shooed away in one fell swoop, and the servos of the mechanical suit whined as they blundered haphazardly towards the hole. Paying no real mind to the strange talking cat or fur-coated dragon, Eriz took a peek inside. She had been hoping for golden rays of sunlight. What she received were rays of hope crushing halogenic light. Rays of HATE.

There was only one thought left on her mind.

"Telt," she said, obviously annoyed, "please raise the output level on the vocalization speakers to their maximum level."

Almost immediately Telt issued his response. "Of course, my la-"

The computer was cut off by a scream of pure rage.

It was likely every participant in the battle would be stopped by this show of audio based carnage, and once again poor Dr. Schuster would find himself to be the most tortured by the turn of events. Thize's bubble had more or less utterly blinded the man, and he had just begun to make out the shapes of...cats? Whether or not the bubble had also managed to screw with his head the doctor couldn't tell, but this mark against his eyesight would be wholly outclassed by what would be happening to his eardrums. What began as a low rumble soon turned to a symphony of anger, and Dr. Schuster found himself struggling to clasp his hands over his ears.

This wouldn't happen though.

Eriz had forgotten he was there once again. His own appendages were bound under her crushing robotic grip. The only thing left to do was to join in on the screaming, even though his voice would be utterly drowned out.

Today hadn't been a very good day for the good doctor.