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Post by Kain on Nov 7, 2004 19:11:42 GMT -5
About five thousand yards south of the battlefield, a single figure is crouched over a most peculiar vehicle, completely unobscured in the vast plain. As the others have become engulfed by the chaos, the man remained in a rather solitary state, a sentinel ever watching the others dutifully carry out their tasks in this grand scheme of fate. Though the evil entity known by all as MASS has consumed the land, this small band of individuals continues to fight no matter what the odds are. While he is unable to fully comprehend this sort of reasoning, he is well aware that this phenomenon called "hope" is even common to him. However much he may deny it, he has developed strikingly similar thought processes to his human brethren since the events that transpired so many ages ago, moreso than Thanatos.
"I believe it is time to make my move," Kain mutters to himself, all the while making the most minute of adjustments to the scope he peers through. Upon closer inspection, one is able to see the faint silhouette of an extended barrel, protruding from a contraption that vaguely looks like Thanatos's motorcycle. Kain is perched upon it, his chest close to the vehicle as if it were in movement. He steadies the aim of the rifle, which is loaded with Aegisite bullets akin to that of which Syrant posesses. As one of the helicopters comes into view, he pulls on the trigger with the slightest hesitation.
The sound of shattering glass that followed took prevalence over all other sounds, demanding notice by all. The corpse of the pilot is seen plummeting to the ground, followed closely by the helicopter he was in just an instant ago. A trail of blood is seen flowing from his head, another testament to the accuracy only a Mark XIII could achieve.
Kain solemnly looks at the man he has just fallen for the slightest of moments, then proceeds to focus his attention on the second pilot.
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Post by Thanatos on Nov 7, 2004 20:00:40 GMT -5
All of the Mass-controlled entities present on the ground now destroyed, Thanatos stands poised atop the dusk-bathed dune, calculating and strategizing even as he warily eyes the two rapidly-moving machines. The helicopters do not move as if piloted separately; rather, they move as if joined, as it nothing more but mirror images of one another. The pilots within the metallic behemoths might very well be nonexistent; in the end, it is not so much a congregation that has been assaulting our band of fighters as it has beenone entity, one mind.
Thanatos spies the minute adjustments of course, hears the cranking of the guns as they take aim, sees the inevitable result. The goal of the helicopters is the melee straight before them, not sixty meters away, that encompasses two of Nicholi's 'army'. Both natural logic and unnatural emotion dictate that these two warriors must be preserved.
And so even as the two helicopters engulf Thanatos in a swirling trail of sand his synthetic legs are propelling him upwards towards the heavens, one hand outstretched, overcoat billowing about him.
It is at this instant that the innate sensation of a fired shot reaches his mind, followed near-instantaneously after by the overpowering noise of breaking glass and screeching metal.
My brother has arrived.
Even as the helicopter further removed begins its magestic fall, Thanatos' grasping hand finds a hold on the icy tip of the very lowest segment of the remaining machine. It is all that he needs.
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Post by Whitakker on Nov 8, 2004 16:05:03 GMT -5
As Thanatos makes short work of the attackers, Whitakker and Syrant finish unloading their clips at the Mass behemoth. Both men almost expected to see the apparition writhing in its death throes, but it was not to be. It would inevitably take more than aegisite to vanquish this foe. After recovering and gathering itself, the Mass refocuses on the two adversaries. It would take too long to reload. Whitakker and Syrant bolt from the Mass, as it gave pursuit.
"I've temporarily run out of ideas. I wish Nicholi would finish up his business and help us, but I won't press the issue. Your turn to think up a brilliant strategy. Got any ideas?"
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Post by Syrant on Nov 8, 2004 19:35:06 GMT -5
Before Syrant could give an answer he turns to see the Mass Behemoth extending long tentacle 'arms' at the two fighters.
"Move!"
Syrant leaps sideways knocking Whitakker out of the way. Syrant is soon constricted tightly by the powerful tentacles. No matter how much Syrant struggled the tentacles were to much. The Mass then lifts Syrant into the air and retracts the tentacles. Syrant's eyes widen has he is absorbed into the Mass Behemoth’s body. Syrant suddenly feels great pressure around his body, yet no pain. Suddenly images and memories being to flash in his head, voices soon begin to fill his head. Constant whispers over and over in his head.
"Awaken!"
Syrant’s muscle tighten more and more as memories flow into his head. The voices still continue. Syrant’s eyes turn completely black as angry and pain feel him. The intense pressure from the Mass soon begins to leave. Syrant yells out and breaks free of his bondage. He lets a full load of Aegisite bullets go from inside the center of the Mass. The bullets open a gap in the Mass’ body big enough for Syrant to escape from. Syrant leaps out of the darkness and is blinded by the light of the sun. The Mass’ body slowly begins to burn away from the Aegisite bullets that Syrant left inside the body. Syrant then falls to the ground in complete exhaustion.
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Post by Thanatos on Nov 8, 2004 21:14:28 GMT -5
Only vaguely aware of the combat playing out directly in front of him, Thanatos lithely climbs to his feet while maintaining balance on the narrow rail of the speeding helicopter. His only goal now is both simple and imperative:
Ensure the healthy condition of compatriots so they will be able to continue to fight.
And then, of course, there is a sense of comradery, of distinct attatchment. But that is not something logical enough to properly incorporate...at least not for the moment.
Thanatos reaches the small ledge present on the vehicle, sand-filled winds flapping wildly at his overcoat as his slender black-gloved fingers continue their solid grip on the jagged metal sides of the flying contraption. Gazing through the glass, Thanatos sees the pilot, an unremarkable man whose facial features are all but nonexistent in his near-lobotomized state.
Fighting the pressure of the high winds as they continue to buffet him, Thanatos tears open the side door, in an instant storming into the vehicle and slicing accurately into the pilot's neck with a curved throwing dagger suddenly in hand. Bloody beginning to trickle as the mortal enters its death throws, Thanatos once more stabs his Aegisite-coated blade into his target, this time into the right temple, where a black substance had been attempting to seep away utilizing every available pore. This attack is met with a prompt flash of silver as the unique substance begins to do its work, Thanatos meanwhile casting the body out of the other door, not bothering to watch as it plummets to the sandy earth.
Turning his head back to the control panel, Thanatos' visor studies the controls intently as he attempts to puzzle out the function of the relatively simple display, relating them to memories he possessed of the far more complex set-ups that had existed in the flying machines before the cataclysm.
And to a degree, it works.
Taking controls firmly in hands, Thanatos suddenly alters the helicopter's course, retracting the gun that had been prepared to fire on Syrant and Whitakker. While for the first few seconds the flying is shaky and near-comical to watch, soon the bobbing of the craft subsides as Thanatos' mechanical mind firmly memorizes and puts to good use each mechanism used in manipulation of the vehicle.
It is of a medium size, and is outfitted with a fast-firing gun that has for the most part faded from existence. Its plating is flimsy, however, and its speed not particularly striking; it is not an original flying machine created before the destruction of the Cities, but rather a weak clone created from the wreckage after the veritable appocolypse.
Nevertheless...
A valuable asset.
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Post by Nicholi on Nov 10, 2004 21:22:54 GMT -5
Levithia charges her target blades poised to strike. She unleashes delivers several strikes in a rhythmic pattern only to have them all blocked by Nicholi’s nagita. Nicholi retaliates and begins several thrusts towards his sister only to have them strike the palm of her hand painlessly. The two continue to volley strikes at each other in close combat. Levithia leaps backward and mounts both blades together at their bases. In mid flip she runs her sleeve down from tip to tip to produce a strand. She has now altered her attack scheme by using a ranged bow. Levithia draws back the bowstring, with several shafts in place, and fires arrow after arrow in quick succession at Nicholi. Nicholi is unable to dodge the bulk of the hail. Levithia detaches both blades and prepares for a coup de grace strike at her stunned foe. Nicholi catches glance of his assailant and prepares a counterstrike. As Levithia lunges her blade forward, Nicholi jumps and springboards off her blade into the air, nagita positioned downward.
“Mother Gaia cries to you. Answer her plight and find sweat rest within her embrace.”<br>
Nicholi falls down with great force into the earthen mass below. His target narrowly avoids the blow but is blown off her feet do to the sheer force of the cleaving blow. Nicholi takes this moment and reaches his fallen opponent ready to fell her. He looms over the body of his sister, nagita ready to deal its final blow through her chest. As he thrusts with his final blow, he stops a hairs breath away from Levithia. Her once cold lifeless black eyes are now the soft blue they once were. Tears roll down her cheeks as she looks upon the face of her brother. Nicholi holsters his weapon and steps backward, feeling he cannot finish the deed.
“Fool.”<br>
Levithia thrusts her blade into Nicholi’s right shoulder. Blood sprays from the wound, painting its surroundings in a crimson tone. Nicholi falls to the ground. Levithia rises from the ground and walks over to the body of her target.
“It is your human emotions that make you weak. They are what make all humans weak. You could have killed me but instead you shoes to let me live and see were it got you? The MASS is a superior life form devoid of these foolish feelings. That is what makes us stronger. That is why is why it was foolish of you to begin this mission of yours. You planned to erase the most powerful life form on this pathetic little dirtball and restore peace to this world? Hah! You’re just one man with a few measly flunkies. How could you possibly hope to accomplish such a pathetic task?”<br>
Nicholi opens his eyes, begins to speak in a weak voice.
“It’s ironic. This scene has been reoccurring for fifteen years. It all started the day I lost you and it keeps coming back to haunt me. Maybe this is Fate’s way of mocking me, telling me that my dream was to forever fail. Maybe you and Argis are right. Maybe it was foolish of me to try and destroy beings stronger than myself. As I lay here dying, my dream dies with me, falling into the dark cold abyss. Kill me now. It is your right as the victor. Finish the edict that was given to you by your master.”<br>Levithia stops. It is like before. Nicholi’s words have breached the barrier that surrounds her true soul.
“What’s wrong? What are you waiting for? Kill me now. By the law of nature the stronger species will live and the weaker must die. If the MASS are truly superior than they must kill their inferiors, humans.”<br>
Levithia’s emotions begin to surge. She cries out in pain. The two conflicting sides of her soul remain in anguish.
“Enough of my charade.”<br>
Nicholi regains his usually stolid expression and rise to his feet. He dusts himself off and raises his glasses over his eyes.
“If it is our emotions that make humans weak, then the MASS are the weaker species since they lack them, or at least that is what I’ve concluded. If the emotions of a fifteen year old girl could overcome the great and powerful MASS then you are the truly weaker species. Hrmph.”<br>
Nicholi pulls out his gun.
“Now, I believe that your residence in my little sister has reached its expenditure. It’s to vacate the premises. Get out you d*** parasite.
Nicholi’s gun begins to whir and a brilliant white light is emitted.
“Sayonara.”<br>
Nicholi fires the bullet towards his sister. As the bullet flies towards its target, a strange barrier appears. Remaining MASS had grouped together to protect Levithia from the shot. The result is a white fog that covers the plateau top. Levithia disappears within the shroud.
“Until the next reunion sister”<br>
Nicholi descends the plateau to aid his companions. He smirks all the way down.
*On this day, an angel fell from the heavens. This fallen angel sought to destroy the human race and bring forth the age of darkness. The angel was confronted by an earthly voice. This voice assaulted the angel with his wit. The angel fell to the harsh tongue of the earthly voice and flew off into the abyss to regain its strength. The earthly voice returned to its domain, awaiting its next encounter with the fallen angel.*
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Post by Whitakker on Nov 11, 2004 18:48:00 GMT -5
*Skye returns to Whitakker after making sure that there were no other enemies within the area. Blood was splotched all over his beak and feathers, making him a sight to behold.*
"Well done, Skye. Well done."
*Whitakker hurries over to Syrant, who has collapsed in a heap on the sand. The Mass has now gathered itself together, and preparing to assault the two yet again. Whitakker loads both his guns with aegisite and takes aim. Whitakker knows this probably won't finish him off, but he'll take that risk. Whitakker pulls the hammers back on his guns...*
"No one touches my partner..."
"I could use some help, Nicholi..."
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Post by Thanatos on Nov 11, 2004 19:55:04 GMT -5
Having now fully learned the layout of the helicopter controls, Thanatos places it at its highest speed, dipping the vehicle downwards even as it flashes over the recovering Mass structure. In another second he has spotted an ailing Syrant, a desparate Whitakker. Apparently, his efforts might very well have been for naught.
Deactivating the power of the machine as it hovers about five meters upwards and behind his pair of comrades, Thanatos jumps from the pilot's seat, even as the helicopter begins its very rapid and clumsy descent to the sandy ground.
Not taking time to acknowledge either of the two in reference to his newly-aquired asset, Thanatos leaps from the metal frame to slide to a stop alongside Whitakker, standing close to the nearly-unconcious Syrant. Thanatos' words come cold but quick even as he is reaching into those shadowly depths of his overcoat.
"Opponent is severely weakened--spread blows over entire surface area. From its motions, its target is most probably the fallen fighter. Approximitely four seconds before it is in efficient striking distance. 'Good luck.'"
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Post by Whitakker on Nov 12, 2004 6:43:29 GMT -5
*Whitakker aknowledges Thanatos' presence with little more than a nod(along with a sigh of relief). After recognizing the many weak points on the Mass behemoth's figure, his fingers begin to pull back on the triggers...*
Fire...
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Post by Thanatos on Nov 13, 2004 19:06:06 GMT -5
Thanatos withdraws from his overcoat something entirely different from any type of armament that might have been expected, despite the impending attack of the fluid yet ebbing monstrosity.
Instead of a pistol or blade, the item Thanatos holds in his left hand is nothing more than a minute metallic cylinder with two tiny electrodes present on one of its ends. Even with Whitakker's command to "fire", the assassin is turning on his heel to step to where Syrant lies.
To him, even now the remainder of the Mass has been pronounced a minimal threat. Not only is one ally even now firing into the already-weakened creature, but a new entity has been detected that will surely act as a final solid line of defense in case of disaster...
Footsteps echoing through the sand, even their insubstantial reverberations crystal clear to the keen sensory power that the Mark XIII's possess. Those footsteps are composed and resolute, confident in nature. Much can be learned even from the footfalls of an individual; and this particular individual is one who has passed through a daunting tribulation--and succeeded.
Thanatos' right hand moves to swiftly pick up Syrant's weakened and surprisingly light frame. Holding the fatigued warrior in a steady grip, Thanatos takes the few additional steps to the helicopter, battle by this time ensuing amongst all parties gathered behind him. Yet logic, cold dispassionate logic, dictates that one particular winning side is almost entirely assured.
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Post by Nicholi on Nov 15, 2004 18:23:14 GMT -5
Nicholi races to the aid of his comrades. Thanatos helps Syrant leaving Whitakker to contend with the beast. Nicholi leaps into the air and upon descending lays several harsh upon the MASS Behemoth.
"It's best we end this as soon as possible. Whitakker leave this creature to me."
Whitakker nods and steps back towards Thanatos. The MASS behemoth begins its assault on Nicholi, aiming for his wounded shoulder. Nicholi thrusts with his nagita and impales the beast. The behemoth, apparently unharmed, hurls Nicholi into dune. The behemoth begins to walk towards Nicholi. Nicholi gets up, nagita in hand, and waits for his attacker to approach further, focusing on one spot of its body. With only about three yards distance between them. Nicholi tosses his nagita into the air and then jumps up. In mid jump Nicholi kicks the nagita into the spot on the behemoth he was focusing on. The Behemoth cries out in pain and stumbles backward.
"Now to end it."
Nicholi pulls out his gun and prepares to fire. The gun shakes violently as it lets off its white light. Nicholi pulls back the trigger and lets the bullet fly into the behemoth. In a few seconds, there is nothing left of the behemoth except a small black stone attached to the end of Nicholi's nagita. Nicholi walks over to his weapon and takes the stone from the end and places it in his coat pocket. Turning to his companions, he speaks.
"We will head back to the manor now to recuperate but be one guard at all times. This was only one attack force. We may well encounter many more as we go. I believe Thanatos has found us a suitable transport so let us take our leave."
The group all head into the helicopter and lift off. Nicholi sits slumped in a corner. He remains silent for the remainder of the trip home. Today, the beginning of the battle against the MASS began. Time will only tell when it will end.
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