The Elder Invasion: CHAPTER 5 - Dystopia

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Hydronine

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Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

<meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/juliarudes/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> Julez and Vincent had slowly approached the man, both focusing with metal sight, trying to figure out what was going on. Julez took the rust into account while Vincent seemed more interested on how these appendages were connected to the rest of the man’s being. Both were still as confused as before, but had managed to get over to the man as he seemed to be in hard concentration to close the rusted contraptions. Every movement seemed to rack his body with pain and they watched as they finally fully closed, the agony driving the man to his knees.
<o:p> </o:p>
“Take that back…. They’re in FUCKING awful shape….” Julez reworded what Vincent had said earlier and stepped towards the man, Vincent following slowly, both curious of the man’s body.
<o:p> </o:p>
Her tails swished as she padded in front of the man, her red eyes focused on him.
<o:p> </o:p>
“Think you can help, dontcha?” Vincent stated, and Julez nodded slightly, he shook his head, Julez paid no attention to him as the man finally opened his eyes and she gazed at him.
<o:p> </o:p>
“We got to get onto the plane, you know.” Vincent stated again, his voice a little louder. Julez nodded and smiled at the man for a moment.
<o:p> </o:p>
“You need help, right? I thought I might have heard you say that… but…. Well…. I…. am very distracted all the time… “ Julez muttered sheepishly, holding a hand out to the man, Vincent looked over at them curiously, then sighed.
<o:p> </o:p>
“My name’s Jul……” Julez looked away for a moment, then smiled again, hand still extended towards him. “Julia Foxtrot, what’s yours?”
<!--EndFragment-->
 
A

Arsenal XA4

Guest
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

The planes were loaded and airborne, Boeing 767 jumbo jets taking civilians and enlisted alike to Underbases slated to become refugee camps. The soldiers would go to rallying units and await their marching orders. For now all they could do was wait and talk.

As one squad was doing.

"They told me you were somethin' else, Lieutenant. A real inspiring individual." Topp said to Ryker. The Hanging Patriots had taken up the rear of the plane they were on.

"'Real inspirin'' yew say? Who, if Ah may ask, 'as said 'at 'bout me?" Ryker asked, writing in his well worn book.

"The detailer. Truth be told, bossman, I was in the rear with the gear during the war so I missed out on almost all of the action." Topp had been with a quartermaster unit, servicing vehicles and platoons that fell back to rearm and resupply. Not once did he ever fire a single shot during the war. Ryker stopped writing, setting the pen aside and closing the book.

"Ah turned many to oor cause in the eighteen years Ah was away. Ah've been ae POW an' converted the guards ta Dystopia's cause. Ah partook in ae tribal uprisin' an' brought the natives inta oor fold. Ah sent millions ta fight an' die whitout usin' ae virus ta coerce them. Whit say yew 'bout me bein' 'inspirin,' Topp?"

Topp took his sunglasses off and stared at Ryker.

"You were the Commandant. The one and only and you gave it all up. Why?" he finally asked.

"Because. Ah belong whit the grunts. Ah canno' abide peace time. Too little ta do, too few battles ta fight. 'At's why Ah went ISAF-EF." Ryker replied, opening the book and writing in it again.

"If that's the case why come back?" Ryker grinned, flipping through the book.

"...fer nae sooner shall Ah return than the world is engulfed in fire yet again. Ah shall take up arms as always an' begin me crusade as Armageddon's Engineer. Many will be displeased whit me. Many will celebrate me return. Many more will die." he read, closing the book. The passage was in the middle of the book.

"You wrote that how long ago?" a Minigunner asked.

"Six years ago."

"Six years?" Topp asked. Ryker nodded.

"Ever since Homac almost killed me Ah've been 'avin' premonitions as Ah sleep. Everthin' Ah've seen 'as 'appened." he said, holding the book up. "Everthin' 'as been written years afore it 'as 'appened."

"So who wins this?"

"Ah will no' say. Fer yew ta know will drive yew mad. Ah am already there."

"This is your captain speaking. We'll be landing in Underbase 34 in an hour. Any families travelling with us please stay together as best as you can. Soldiers are to muster at the police station to receive their assignments." the captain said as the plane shuddered. Topp looked back to Ryker.

"What's in store for us?" he asked.

"War. Always war."

----------------------------------

(OOC)
-Evacuation complete. Planes are en route to the reserve Underbases. Ryker is slightly more off kilter.
(/OOC)
 

Hydronine

The Murrstress
Invitation Status
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per day
  2. 1-3 posts per day
Writing Levels
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  2. Advanced
  3. Prestige
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  5. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
Scifi, Fantasy, Modern, Magical, Horror, Noir, apocalyptic, Grimdark, yaoi, yuri, anything really.
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m4XSAJ80-kw"]YouTube- The Fifth Element - Timecrash[/ame]

<meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/juliarudes/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0/clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> Evacuee plane
<o:p> </o:p>
Julez looked around the crowded plane, edging closer to Vincent and the metal-winged person that they helped into said plane. He seemed to still be in pain from that odd pair rusted wings. He hadn’t said a word since his eyes opened, not even a name, but due to the situation, they had needed to get into that plane and quickly. Julez and Vincent had carried him inside and then tried to make sure that he had enough space, due to the discomfort. As the planes took off, Julez looked over at Vincent, her red eyes glowing.
<o:p> </o:p>
“Vincent, I don’t know where we’re going…”
<o:p> </o:p>
“Hush, we’ll find out.”
<o:p> </o:p>
Julez did as told, quietly surveying the rest of the evacuees as Vincent drowsed, eventually falling asleep as she studied the others people, then her thoughts circled back to Diemon. Circled back to that last night she had with him. Then realized something with utmost shock, her hand raising to her stomach, then looked over at Vincent, obviously needing counsel right now. He was still asleep.
<o:p> </o:p>
She had been getting sick during training, but she always got sick during training. She was more emotional, but Deimon was not with her, so that should have been a good enough explanation. She felt sore at times, but that went back to training. She felt off focus, but again, Deimon. Or was it….? Julez bit her lip and then glanced over at Vincent again, practically trying to wake him up with her shocked and fearful thoughts. Her eyes wide with terror and shock, but also with an underlining calm almost. She finally hissed Vincent’s name until a lazy blue eye opened and peered at her.
<o:p> </o:p>
“I figured out why I’m acting so weird I think….”
<o:p> </o:p>
Vincent closed his eye again and rearranged slightly before sighing
<o:p> </o:p>
“What is it?” He asked, his voice thick with a need for more rest.
<o:p> </o:p>
“I… I think…. I…. I…Vincent…. I…-“
<o:p> </o:p>
“Out with it, dammit, what?”
<o:p> </o:p>
“I think… I think that I’m…”
<o:p> </o:p>
“You are-
<o:p> </o:p>
“Pregnant.”


[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zgPwTo5pk7k"]YouTube- The Fifth Element - Protect Life - Remix[/ame]

<o:p> </o:p>
Two minutes went by like two long hours, each second seeming to stretch out for forever as Julez looked up at Vincent, her eyes seemingly innocent as she looked to him for help. He merely stared back at her, amazed and horrified. Finally he cleared his throat and gulped, trying to imagine his niece pregnant. Trying to imagine how a vampire could be able to have a child with a halfbreed kitsune. Trying not to imagine himself wringing Deimon’s neck for this.
<o:p> </o:p>
“We’ll be in Under-
<o:p> </o:p>
“I don’t care about that. Don’t do this! Help me! I don’t even think I can be a…Vincent! I’ve killed people! I’ve slaughtered people! I’m bitchy. I’m rude. I’m intolerable. I’m-
<o:p> </o:p>
“Pregnant….. You’re…. pregnant…”
<o:p> </o:p>
Julez put a hand to her mouth, not to be dramatic, but merely to try and keep herself from throwing up as a wave of nervous nausea passed through her. Her eyes watered and then looked up at Vincent again, fear and uncertainty in her eyes.
<o:p> </o:p>
“What do I do! Tell me! Help me out here!” Julez demanded with a hysterical look in her eyes. With child, in a situation like this, it was easy for Vincent to understand the fear. For herself, for Deimon, for the possible child.
<o:p> </o:p>
“You can always just have it ter-
<o:p> </o:p>
“No! I can’t! I can’t!”
<o:p> </o:p>
“How do you even know!?” Vincent demanded, knowing full well that this may just be paranoia.
<o:p> </o:p>
“My behavior… and the fact that I missed the last two months. Thought it was stress…..” Julez murmured softly, Vincent glanced at her, obviously surprised.
<o:p> </o:p>
“So you and…. Deimon….”
<o:p> </o:p>
“Shut up, Vincent… I’ll… figure something out….”
<o:p> </o:p>
“So you’re willing to let that child come into the world, possibly in the middle of a godforsaken WAR!? These things aren’t even human looking! How are you going to-
<o:p> </o:p>
“I’ll figure something out!” Julez snapped quickly, her eyes roamed down to her stomach, biting her lip.
<o:p> </o:p>
“I mean….. who says the war will still be going on by the time this little one is born?”
<o:p> </o:p>
“Julez, this is-
<o:p> </o:p>
“For the last time: Shut up.” Julez turned away quickly and gulped, not knowing what to do, but certainly knowing that she shouldn’t terminate it without at least telling Deimon what’s going on…. Her eyes closed and she tried to calm down, tried to be happy. The likelihood that Deimon would agree to a termination seemed high, but also, it seemed unlikely that she’s reach him before there are no more options. Vincent muttered about a coat hanger and vodka and Julez snarled at him as quietly as she could, her calm shattered and enraged.
<o:p> </o:p>
“Save it for when we get out of this goddamned plane, Vince.”
<o:p> </o:p>
“Maybe I should get you one of those motion sickness bags, before you throw up and- Julez snarled loudly this time, not caring that people heard and looked on as she slammed her fist into Vincent’s stomach, then grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head against the wall.
<o:p> </o:p>
“No more jokes. No more smartass statements. I don’t want to hear it.” Julez hissed loudly then let go of him, watching as he crumpled to the ground and tried to collect himself. Julez watched him for a moment then turned away.
<o:p> </o:p>
“Nothing to see here.” She muttered as the other people turned away, resuming the act of minding their own business. Her hand came up to her stomach, feeling it as if it was something new that she needed to get familiar with, she practically imagined feeling a heartbeat under her fingertips. Her eyes focused, but her mind off in another world, her thoughts spoke of her fears.
<o:p> </o:p>
‘I hope that this war ends in our victory... Or else… what can I do… to protect you….? What do I do…. What CAN I do?’ Julez thought as she trembled. A cold shiver shimmied up her spine as she tried to struggle with her thoughts and fears.
<!--EndFragment-->
 
A

Arsenal XA4

Guest
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

5 Miles from Underbase 66...

"Check weapons. Safeties off as soon as we cross the city limits." CW01 Stephen Wulf, squadron lead for the 17TH Air Cavalry, the Wolf Pack, called out over the radio net. He had four ACH-47G Guns A-Go-Gos and three RAH-66K Comanche Chiefs at his disposal. They had separated from the Chinooks they were escorting at Colonel Archetype's request, making a beeline for the dead city. Wulf had pulled rank over his wingmates, preferring to be chewed out than to let the lives of beleagured soldiers go to waste.

"Bombshell, what's the status of the Vulcan you're carrying?" he inquired of the Mechalith in one of the Combat Chinooks.

"Cooled and ready, sir." she replied. Like other Mechalith, Bombshell had an obsession with heavy weapons. Unlike other Mechalith she preferred fighting air-to-mud, spraying targets with 20mm DU.

"Alright, safeties off, break, Colonel, we're going hot!"

<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xjlgUx7_aN0&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xjlgUx7_aN0&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>

The helos broke formation as they passed over the defensive wall. The pilots could see smoke where a zombie with a Baraccuda missile launcher had scored a hit on one of the Minuteman cruise missile launchers. The Comanches firewalled their throttles, passing the bigger Combat Chinooks. Their M-197 30mm cannons blazed, depleted uranium slugs tearing into zombies. The bigger gunships entered the fray, Minigunners spraying zombies with full metal jackets and the occasional 'flash bang.'

"It's about god damned time..." Captain Johnston swore, Peregrine dragging Moreno behind a house. They had been pushed further away from the launch site by a few rocket launcher wielding zombies. While they had shown the ability to reload small arms, reloading anti-tank weapons appeared to be beyond their capabilities.

Had they been able to do so, they would have been more than capable of engaging the low flying gunships which were presently tearing them apart.

"Bombshell, get out there and take care of things!" Wulf shouted to the Mechalith.

"Yeah, yeah... Shit..." she swore, the crew chief of her helo opening the rear door. She jumped down, landing atop a car and compacting its roof. "You want some? GET SOME!!!" Her M-61A3 Vulcan cannon opened up, the depleted uranium buzzsawing through the horde of zombies. She had their full, undying attention.

As did a few others.

"Hold fire, friendlies coming in!" a Chimera shouted as she and several others joined Bombshell on the line, P-90s spraying into the ranks. Bombshell saw several, taller Chimeras leap into the zombies.

At least she processed them to be Chimeras.

They tore into the zombies at point blank with laser blades, the Chimeras providing accurate cover fire. Bombshell keyed her radio.

"Alfa Wulf, hold fire on the front line. Got friendlies mixed with hostiles, repeate, danger close fire." she reported in.

"So mark the ones behind them! I brought the firepower, now call down the thunder!" he shouted back. Bombshell shrugged, pulling a grenade from her chest rig. She pulled the pin and threw it well within the rear lines of the zombies. The gunships concentrated their fire on that area, bringing rocket pods and AGM-114K Hellfire anti-tank missiles to the party.

It ended thirty minutes later, the street blackened and slick with gore, houses collapsed, and Johnston's Marines further emaciated but alive.

"Colonel, Alfa Wulf. With all due respect I've got to get back to the helos I was escorting." Wulf reported in to Archetype.

"I copy that. Thanks for the save. Out." s/he replied from '66's TOC. Archetype slumped into a chair, a Chimera bringing hir a drink.

"On the bright side our zombie troubles are over..." s/he mused, sipping at the tea. Hir Chimeras would take care of the cleanup while Peregrine and the others tended to the wounded.

---------------------------------

Air Traffic Control
Underbase 57...


"Sir, we just got word from 27TH Airlift. They're two hours out with 9TH SOCOM and others from the 446TH Airborne." a Minigunner reported to his Lieutenant.

"Copy that. Inform Field Commander McCarthy." the officer ordered of another soldier. The Chinooks that contained the elite helo pilots and SPECWAR operators had firewalled their throttles after Wulf broke the escort off. The less time they spent in hostile airspace the better.

"Captain, what's the order?" one of the HALO Minigunners asked of Captain Pliskin.

"Once we're on the ground we report in with the senior officer. They'll give us our next mission." Pliskin replied. They were silent for a while, some of them choosing to sleep. One man was restless.

"Sir, I have a question. It's about my paperwork..."

"Lieutenant, I submitted it last week. With all that's happened I won't be surprised if you're still under my command after we land. Whatever happens, Deimon, it happens."

"Yessir... I just thought I'd ask." Lieutenant Deimon Kisaragi replied, slumping into his seat.

--------------------------------

(OOC)
-Johnston's Marines finally recieve support and reinforcements. The zombie problem as 66 is mostly resovled.
-Survivors from the forest attack presently en route to Underbase 57.
(/OOC)
 
A

Arsenal XA4

Guest
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

(Musical Ambience: Cold/Freezing Out, MoozE, S.T.A.L.K.E.R. Shadow of Chernobyl)

Nuclear Weapons Storage
Second Chernobyl, Underbase 17...


"Radiation is high, but not toxic..." a biohazard technician said into his radio as he inspected a rack of 20 kiloton W-87 nuclear warheads. His Geiger counter was ticking off the scale.

"Residuals from the accident a few years ago, I'm sure. Are the warheads still intact?" the operator in control asked. The technician walked around one of the racks then hit a Mk 21 reentry vehicle with a ball peen hammer. Satisfied he keyed his radio.

"That's affirmative. The warheads are still serviceable." he replied.

"What about yourself?"

"I feel sick..." There was a delay from control.

"See the duty medic for some vodka and Motrin." the operator replied. The technician gave his affirmative reply and started back to the airlock. He opened the first door then closed it, the automated decontamination system kicking in and spraying the tech's MOPP suit down with neutralizers. When it stopped the tech stripped out of his suit, depositing it into a trash can labeled 'Contaminants.' He then opened the next door, stepping through into another decontamination station. Here he stripped out of his fatigues and deposited them into another trash bag before being sprayed with water and neutralizers before being air dryed. In the next room over was a stool with a fresh pair of fatigues and boots. He quickly donned them then finally entered the safe zone.

"Another day with the warheads?" a medic asked him, holding out a pair of Motrin tabs and a shot glass of vodka, which the soldier quickly took.

"The radiation can't kill me fast enough..." he replied. "I'm telling you, if I have to go in there one more time I'm going to start beating warheads on the tips till I get one to blow up!" The medic shook his head and laughed.

"You've said the same damn thing the last thirty two times you came out of there. What's wrong, too much of a pussy to eat a bullet?" he challenged.

"Fuck you..." the technician replied as he started back to the barracks, passing the next duty Biohazard Technician as he went into the storage area to inspect the nukes.

Another day in paradise.

---------------------------

(OOC)
-Warhead storage shenanigans.
(/OOC)
 
A

Arsenal XA4

Guest
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

(Musical Ambience: Metalhead, Joel Killen, Positive Vibes)

Airfield, Underbase 57...

The Chinooks carrying survivors from the first contact at Anirune Forest were being marshaled onto the tarmac by ground crew and tower controllers alike. As soon as the helos were on the deck the ramps were lowered and the occupants filed out.

Those that had to be carried out were taken to waiting Humvee Ambulances and taken to the base hospital.

"Captain Vasilev!" a Minigunner shouted to the flight lead of the 446TH Airborne.

"Da, what is situation?" the Slav asked as the soldier saluted him.

"They want you and your men to get to the helo hangars immediately in order to familiarize yourselves with your new birds." Vasilev pulled his flask from his survival vest and took a quick swig of vodka.

"Are we not entitled to down time?" he asked of the soldier.

"Sorry, sir, but the Base Commander wants everyone to get familiar with the new equipment." the soldier replied. Vasilev took another swig of vodka.

"Fine... But we do it in shifts." he said to the man before turning to his own men. "Движение вне!" Further down the flight line 9TH SOCOM disembarked from their helo, the operators heading into the shade of one hangar where an F-22A Raptor sat, emaciated, most likely stripped down for parts.

"So what now?" Lieutenant Kisaragi asked of Pliskin.

"We wait and see, as always." he replied. No more than a minute later a Minigunner in a Humvee rolled up.

"Lieutenant Kisaragi?" he asked. The SAW Operator stepped up.

"That's me..." The Minigunner dug into his satchel and handed Deimon some paperwork.

"You're request for transfer out of 9TH SOCOM went through. The 83RD Mechanized Battalion from the 51ST is waiting for you." the soldier replied as Deimon looked the paperwork over. Behind his mask he was smiling, more than happy to be out of SOCOM.

"Lieutenant..." Deimon turned to Pliskin.

"Good luck." the SOCOM Captain said. Deimon sketched a salute then reached to shake Pliskin's hand.

"It's been an honor, Big Boss." the vampire said, Pliskin giving him a frim handshake. He then turned and followed the Minigunner, getting into the passenger side of the Humvee, the soldier backing out of the hangar and accelerating away from the airfield.

"They told me to find SOCOM as soon as they landed and sure enough I did." the Minigunner said to Deimon as they drove past a convoy of tanks the likes of which Deimon had never seen. He turned around in his seat to get a better look at them.

"Those are XM-32 Wraith Advanced Battle tanks. They're replacing the Assault Crusader and the Advanced Crusader in our division." the soldier explained as he turned down a side street, bypassing refugee traffic.

"They're actually replacing those things? It's about damn time..." Deimon mused.

"Just in the 51ST. The other divisions are keeping theirs. We're getting the shiny, new stuff." The driver pulled up to a hotel which was being used as the 51ST's Divisional HQ. Field Commander McCarthy was inside, looking over battle plans. The Minigunner led Deimon in.

"Sir, I've brought Lieutenant Kisaragi as instructed." he said with a salute. Carl returned the salute then held his hand out to Deimon.

"Nice to meet you, Lieutenant. And before you start, yes I served in the Jilachi, no I don't take the credit..." Carl said, taking the words right out of Deimon's mouth.

"I, ahh, wasn't even going to bring it up..."

"Well, I've heard it from a brigades worth of people today. So you're my new platoon lieutenant, correct?" Deimon looked at Carl then pulled his mask off.

"I am?"

"You didn't read the orders, did you..." Deimon shook his head. "Well, the reason you've been transferred to the 51ST is to create a Quick Reaction Force within the 83RD Mechanized. Since I've had my helicopter gunships taken away I'm having to rely on AFV based QRFs."

"You want my experience from SOCOM, correct?"

"Bingo... The platoon I'm giving you has the highest scores from our last War Games exercise with the Iwakuans. You'll have three Bradley IFVs and a Stryker Engineers Vehicle at your disposal." Carl started. "While you're at it, get familiar with the tank crews as they'll be counting on your men to pull flanking maneuvers and, when needed, vanguard operations. Is that understood, Lieutenant?"

"Yessir!" Deimon barked out.

"You don't have to get hardcore on me. I'm not Captain Pliskin." Carl said, standing up and extending his hand. "That said, welcome to the Steel Battalion."

--------------------------

(OOC)
-The 446TH and 9TH SOCOM land at Underbase 57. Vasilev's men are sent to get acquainted with their new helos and Deimon is transferred to the 51ST Armored Division.
(/OOC)
 

Hydronine

The Murrstress
Invitation Status
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per day
  2. 1-3 posts per day
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
  3. Prestige
  4. Douche
  5. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
Scifi, Fantasy, Modern, Magical, Horror, Noir, apocalyptic, Grimdark, yaoi, yuri, anything really.
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xwhBRJStz7w&feature=channel"]YouTube- Nine Inch Nails - The Hand That Feeds[/ame]

Julez felt at her stomach, unease and fear bubbling up in her throat as she bit her lip, trying to remember how long ago she and Deimon were together last. How far along was this...... what could she do?

Suddenly it was like a switch was flipped and she changed gears. She knew what to do, she knew how to do it. She knew how to act and behave in the situation presented in front of her and how to protect herself and her child.

She got herself a little more space to herself and tried to rest, her body tired, but unable to calm down, too alert to rest herself. Vincent looked over at Julez for a moment, taking her behavior into account and silently watching as the white-haired woman finally slumped over and drifted into a slumber.

[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qSsRt_1l740&feature=channel"]YouTube- Nine Inch Nails - Survivalism[/ame]

Vincent turned the thought over and over again in his head, unable to understand how the girl he had known since before she knew how to take care of herself, was now pregnant, and apart from the man who had obviously sired the child that was being formed inside of her body. He thought of how he hadn't talked to her in a couple years, how he had worried about her and how she had hugged him and begged him to help her get stronger when they met up again recently.

The desperation in her tear-filled eyes, the way her small frame trembled as she whimpered the stories of her experiences and how she felt that she needed to get stronger. The stories about the man she met and needed to find again. The weaknesses in his niece were noticeable and possibly unable to be corrected or protected. There was a reason she had the title of "Kitsune of Distraction".

The problem was, even as driven to distraction as this girl was, was it possible to help her not only improve her skills, but also help her meet her goals?

"Ffffffff.....Sock......gods.....of..... cults...." The sleep-talk of the halfbreed shook Vincent from his thoughts, but solidified one thing for him. He was going to have one hell of a talk with Deimon.
 
C

Captain Nic

Guest
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

Imperial Communications Craft Possum
Low Orbit over Iwaku


The crew of the communications craft were scrambling over their monitors and consoles to observe enemy activity. One officer, seated on his chair, looked over his sensor display, which was monitoring planetary surface conditions, and saw what appeared to be a vast urban landscape.

"Hmm. That's a pretty large settlement." Another officer stopped behind and watched the display. "That's no settlement; it's a fraggin' megalopolis. See all that road and structure? We need a scan on this one." The seated officer panned over his console and gently pushed a button on the holo-panel. The display responded in a snap.

"The sensors show a lot of... energy."

"That's not news at all, officer. What's down there?"

"We've got a few dead zones here and there, and active areas show massive energy output. Possibly weapon-grade."

The officer watching from behind rubs his chin. "Do we still have visual feeds from our probes in the sector?"

"None, sir. Flight recordings report destruction at the hands of what can be identified as... ISAF forces."

Both officers stare blankly as they view the recordings of the surface probes being assaulted by various means, most commonly gunshots.

"They mad, bro. They mad."

[SUMMARY: Preliminary Teknikan observations of Dystopia. What they see does not please them any.]
 
K

Krang

Guest
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

The beast growled again as it juddered over the rocky road. Khang grunted in anger. However incredible the capabilities of their machines where, they certainly weren't comfortable. He tugged at the tight cloth suit the men had given him. It was supposedly very strong, and light, but Khang didn't see how it would stop sword, let alone the fire unleashed on the warpworm. The beast rumbled again as it roared down the road, at such intense speeds Khang was sure they would crash, but the beast's driver handled it expertly. Ahead of them loomed a wall, of such height it astounded Khang. The magics they possessed in this odd place continued to surprise him. He had asked much of Sindri and Warmaster in the period after he had pledged his oath of allegiance, and much of it he still hadn't comprehended. He learned of Iwaku, and the enemy. Warmaster commanded forces in league with the enemy, but lead a smaller secret force in the name of Chaos. Sindri had shown him the way.

There was a bigger threat, giant metal spiders and a great host had already invaded. The courtyard where Khang had landed was the den of the enemy. The puny men who had almost incinerated Khang with their firesticks(Apparently they were called "las-rifles) were the Warmaster's loyalist men.


"Khang, I require you to prove your allegiance."
"All you need do is name it, Warmaster, and it is yours."
"There is something I need, and it is in the hands of another. Change it."
"Point me."

Warmaster had selected several humans from the crowd and waved them off. They returned, a few minutes later in a rolling metal box(A "Hum-vee"). Warmaster told him of a vial, full of some sort of potion. A "Kernal" had a lab, which contained a lot of this potion. Khang was to retrieve one of these, vials and return with it. Warmaster pointed to the men.

"They will get you in. Do not, I repeat, do not attack the enemy. If you see them first, get out of sight."
"And if we're caught?"
"Then I will have no use for you." Khang had grinned in response.
"It was a stupid question anyway."

[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JBy34aPDtnw"]YouTube- Kronk's Theme Song[/ame]

"We're here." The driver announce. The great wall loomed high above them, and Khang gawped as he saw how thick they where as they passed under them. The rattling, rocky road gave way to smooth asphalt, and they were temporarily cast into darkness by the shadow of the wall.

They were in.

(OOC: Grandiose and cliche. Recall. MISSION!! Krunk's theme.

Summary: I'm in a Humvee heading to Underbase 66 to steal me some potion. :O But everyone tells me how scary*waves his hands about* this Kernal is. I haven't found a witch yet that didn't find having her brains bashed out a severe inconvenience. But Warmaster says I have to hide! *pout*)
 
A

Arsenal XA4

Guest
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

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Tactical Operations Center
Underbase 66...


"Mastress, we have movement topside." a Chimera said from her post in the TOC. Unlike the other Chimeras those stationed in the TOC wore ACU fatigues and carried AGR-16A4 Bullpups, making them closer to Minigunners than Chimeras.

"More shamblers?" Archetype asked looking at the main screen.

"Negative... This is mechanical and it's at the main lock." the Chimera replied.

"Show me..." A few keystrokes and the main screen showed the CCTV feed of the lock the contact was at.

It was a Humvee, definitely worse for wear, but moving.

"I want someone to contact Scrap Iron City and Border Guards Service. Ask them if there were any units left at any of the check stations."

"Making the call, Mastress..." a different Chimera replied. The door opened and Captain Johnston made his way in. Peregrine had patched him and his Marines up however they were in no shape for another fight.

"Colonel, I can't begin to thank you enough. I take back half of everything bad I've ever said about you." he said, noticing the main screen.

"You are very welcome, Captain, however we seem to have guests..."

"Mastress, Scrap Iron City is on the line. I'll patch it to the main screen..." The subscreen showing the Humvee was replaced with another one, this one showing Underbase IVs TOC. Prime Minister Rosoft was in full view.

"Colonel, you had a question for us?"

"I did. I need to know if there were any stragglers at Border Guards Service's check stations." s/he asked. Mike turned and asked the same question of the Chiefs of Staff who asked their respective Colonels who went on to ask lower ranked officers. This went on for around twenty minutes.

"The check stations and sentry drones are being monitored and controlled from here." Rosoft replied. "As soon as the raid warnings came in the crews locked down their check stations and bugged out for Underbase 57, changing control over to us. Why?"

"Show him the feed..." Archetype ordered of a Chimera. S/he then watched the Prime Minister's reaction.

"IFF check out?"

"Perfectly. The sig ID matches one from a batch that was misappropriated two years ago. Would Major Scavenger have anything to do with it?"

"I'm afraid not... He's been under tight surveillance by State Security and he hasn't budged since."

"Then we have a problem..." Archetype replied.

"My men can't handle it... Sorry, but we need time to recuperate." Johnston interjected.

"Your men did their best. I think perhaps the girls should have some fun." Someone pushed Rosoft out of the way.

"Colonel, I swear to God, you better not be thinking what I think you're thinking!" Field Commander Crux shouted.

"Don't worry, Crux... With any luck they're just some tourists that lost their way. Who would miss a few tourists, hmm?"

"Still! You're on thin ice as it is, Colonel!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that, could you repeat your last?" Archetype asked, feigning comms errors. As Crux inhaled for a second outburst Archetype cut the link.

"I do not like where this is going..." Johnston mused.

"You just worry about recovering, Captain." Archetype said to the Captain. "Let them in and lock the gate back down as soon as they pass..."

"Yes, Mastress." one of the Chimeras said, typing in commands to allow the Humvee into '66. As soon as they were through the Chimera shut the blast gate and electronically locked it. Archetype picked up a handset and keyed it.

"Pincushion, Sabotage, Recoil, we have guests who I'd love for you to keep busy."

Somewhere in the lab three women stirred.

The fruit of Archetype's loins, hir psychotic, cannibalistic, incestuous daughters.

--------------------

<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3VGjGWwqt7U&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3VGjGWwqt7U&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>

Four miles from Underbase 66...

They rolled to a stop, the three 'Irving' sentry drones. The automatons scanned the crashed Combat Chinooks. One of the drones rolled around the back of one of the burned out hulks and found something intriguing. There were footprints leading further into the nation. It sent a signal to it's fellow drones, the other two 'Irvings' joining it. Something else rolled up.

A 'Carswel' attack drone rolled up behind the 'Irvings,' training it's 75mm gun in the direction of the footprints. The drones then proceeded after the trail.

-----------------------

(OOC)
-Colonel Archetype reports Khang's arrival to '66 and allows him in. S/he puts the call out to hir daughters that they have new playmates.
-Sentry drones follow Drake's path into Dystopia.
(/OOC)
 
K

Krang

Guest
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

The crack of a rifle made Khang jump. He sat forward, hissing at the man standing half-out the top of the "Humvee".

"What was that?" He hissed.
"Shambler." The man replied nonchalantly.
"What?"
"Zombie." Khang snarled. Death Magic? Leathery skinned abominations, antithesis to the thriving beacons of toxic life that were the servants of the Grandfather.
"How much longer till the Underground Base?"
"Underbase. 10 minutes." Khang sat back, impatience boiling inside. The strange glass-covered portholes showed odd square piles, somewhat akin to Dwarven constructions. Long metal poles reflected lamplight unto the asphalt streetway. There were more metal constructs, similar to the Humvee, lying on their sides or embedded in one of the brick pile buildings. Some were intact, but most were burnt-out wrecks. Some war had taken place here, the Humvee constantly swerved to avoid bodies lying in the middle of the street. Holes pockmarked the brick walls, and the lamp poles were knocked over.

A crackling sound emitted from the beast's thrumming heart. A second later, the man sitting near the front of the Humvee grabbed a rectangular piece attached to the dashboard via a stretchy plastic rope. A feminine, yet imperious voice followed, coming from heart of the beast.

Was this the beast itself? Did some magic imbue a spirit within?

The man responded, speaking into the piece. Khang caught some of the words, but most of it was a seemingly odd pattern of numbers and letters. After a minute of the conversation, he was thoroughly lost. The man spoke a while further with the beast, before he nodded once, and reattached the piece. He leaned next to the driver, and began to say something.

IEEEEEEEEECHHHHHHHH!!!!

A piercing cry was all the warning they had. A blurry shape smashed into the glass front of the beast. The Humvee swerved wildly, swinging away to crash into the glass doors of a nearby building, the man halfway out the hatch attempted to withdraw back into the Humvee, and was cleanly decapitated by the building. His headless body collapsed the rest of the way, severed neck spouting gore. Khang pushed the body off of him in disgust.

An arm punched through the windshield, seemingly oblivious to the shards tearing into it's flesh. The arm slammed into the throat of the driver, cutting off the stream of curses. The driver's eyes bulged, and another tearing sound preceded the arm retracting, most of the drivers throat clutched into it's grasps. The second man fumbled with his side arm, but before he could bring it to bear the arm punched in again, its fingers tapered off into talons. They punctured the soldiers skull like it was cloth, with a wet snick! He spasmed once more and went limp.

IEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

The beast on the front of the Humvee let out another cry, and Khang gathered his wits. The arm(Which was not bleeding, despite the great rents torn by the glass shards) cleared away the windshield remains. It glared at Khang, hissing. It's face was human-like, but the beastial snarl cleared up whether it was human. It's dull red eyes held a great fury in them. It let out another cursed cry

IEEEEEEEEEE-

[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F6drEYZC_KM"]YouTube- WHITESNAKE- STRAIGHT FOR THE HEART[/ame]

It cut out as Khang's fist rocketed out and caught it in the chin. The force behind the blow knocked the beast off the Humvee and onto the floor of the tiled building. It rolled once, and smashed into the far wall. Khang clambered out the front of the ruined vehicle, cursing. The two remaining men got out of the sides of the car, drawing their firearms. Khang waved them down, as he hopped off the front of the Humvee.

"It's mine, I claim it as my ki-" The beast knocked into Khang, with such force behind it's leap it staggered him. It clung to him, letting out a constant stream of gibbering fury. They staggered around, Khang trying to push the beast off. It reared back, readying another one of it's lighting strikes. Khang knocked the fist away and headbutted the creature, knocking it away. It rolled unto it's feet, turning to leap once more.

It met the swing of Stigmata beautifully, it's head crunching solidly against the spiked mace. It ceased it's infuriating gibberings and was flung full across the room to impact against the shelf, knocking tin cans off the shelves, skidding a way along the floor before coming to a stop. Khang stalked towards it, Stigmata, held for another battering.

He approached it, ready to catch the beast again, but it lay silent in a crumpled heap. He kicked the beast over unto its back and crushed it's skull beneath his foot.

"Pah." He spat on the body, before turning to face the two men. Who were gone. He snarled.
"Cowards." He stepped out by the Humvee, considering taking the vehicle, but he knew not how to control, let alone if it was even still alive. Shrugging, he stepped out into the street.

A low moaning made him turn around. Behind him stood perhaps fifty shuffling men. They let out an agonized moaning as they stalked, backs hunched towards Khang. Many of their pale faces were caked with blood.

"Cannibals or zombies, you are an affront to the Plaguefather." He raised Stigmata in challenge, but they did not charge like the dessicated husks he was used to combating. They simply continued to shuffle towards him. Khang instead strode towards them. He wondered briefly whether to pick up the fire-spitting weapons of the dead men, but discarded it.

It had been a while since Stigmata had fed.

---

"Daemon, why do you not feed?
This blood is stale, like old milk. It is offensive. Khang shrugged.
"If there is a river in this strange place, I will clean it off." A low snarl was all the response he got.

The bodies of the monsters lay in a pile around him, the occasional skull caught beneath his tread crunched assuringly. He walked down the way the Humvee had followed before the attack, Stigmata laying over one shoulder, returning to its smoldering slumber until it was time to fight again. He stopped abruptly, the street before him descending underground. The way was lit by those odd blue lamps.

He found the entrance to Underbase '66. Now to get the vials and get back to the Warmaster alive. He'd have to work on that.

(Summary: Khang and the former-ISAF men continue their uneventful drive towards the Underbase entrance. A Chimera contacts the Humvee, giving them directions to the Underbase entrance. A Hunter attacks, crashing the Humvee and killing three of the ISAF men in the process. Khang dispatches it with much win, while doing so, the other two men disappear. Khang steps outside, and is "accosted" by fifty or so zombies. After killing them, he proceeds to the entrance of the Underbase.)
 
A

Arsenal XA4

Guest
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

(Musical Ambience:
<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PciM-KM7Ikg&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PciM-KM7Ikg&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>
)

Underbase 66 TOC...

"Mastress, sensors are going off like mad in Tunnel 3-07." a Chimera reported to Archetype.

"Show me..." The Chimera brought the camera feed to the main screen. Khang was walking into the tunnel, looking about.

"Well I'll be damned... A walking biohazard..." Archetype remarked. S/he then picked up the handset and keyed it.

"Welcome to my industrial abode. You are a guest and must be accommodated. So please, show my daughters and their friends a good time."

-----------------------------

Tunnel 3-07...

"Show yourself, witch!" Khang snarled, looking about for the voice. The blast door and several anciliary doors started closing, pushing him further into the underground facility. Khang found himself in a motor pool. There were Humvees, Crusader tanks, and Minuteman missile launchers. There was laughter coming from somewhere in the motor pool. Khang looked about, trying to find the source. Bootfalls joined the laughter. Khang never noticed the tank turret traversing, manually cranked into position.

<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Nxs3ssvBWDg&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Nxs3ssvBWDg&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>

The 120mm HEAT round caught the Plague Knight completely off guard, the concussion from the blast flooring him. Chimeras popped out and firing on Khang with their P-90s. Each time he went for them they vaulted over the vehicles, putting reinforced armor plated weapons platforms between themselves and the monster.

"Stand still and fight me!" he roared. A 40mm grenade slammed into his chest and detonated, the Chimeras sending their response.

"Come play with us!" someone sang out, the Chimeras withdrawing.

"We're lonely! Play with us!"

-------------------------

(OOC)
-First contact with the Chimeras.
(/OOC)
 
K

Krang

Guest
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

They had him encircled, they're weapons spitting fire, knocking him down. When he swung, they hopped away, back over their metal beasts, laughing. He swore, another round smashing into his shoulder from behind, the perpetrator giggling.

"Will you play with us?"
"Aye, I'll play with you." Khang growled, a plan forming. "I won't have as much fun unless I have one of your toys."
"We like them better than you."
"Fine." Khang ripped his helmet off, exposing his scar-crossed and pustule pockmarked face, and staring at them with his milky yellow eyes. He leaped at the nearest one, bringing Stigmata around in a wide arc towards her. As expected, she leaped away, laughing. He simply smiled at her, continuing his arc around in a complete circle and launching it across the ring of vehicles. The mace flew in a perfect arc, the mark of much practice, smashing into the stomach of the warrior on the far side. With a metallic oof! she fell back against the vehicle. Stigmata clattering to the floor.

She recovered remarkably quickly for having a twenty pound mace slam into her at 40 miles an hour, but still, not quick enough. Khang put his shoulder down, sprinting across the space. Her comrades poured fire into him, but this unexpected burst of speed threw their aim. Still, it was a struggle for Khang to keep his feet. He slammed into the Chimera right as she stood, barreling into her like a freight train. He smashed her against the metal beast, once, twice, feeling bones crack beneath the pressure. Fire was poured into his back. He dropped the limp form, howling the words of the Plea. The air began to shimmer, and a blast of fetid air emitted from Khang, foul daemonic energies working their way along his form. Cancerous daemons screeched and gibbered as the flew throughout Khang's body. His face distorted, the facial bones cracking and reforming, casting a daemonic snarl across his face. He spat, the saliva fizzling acidically as it came in contact with the cement. He stomped on the weakly struggling form of the Chimera, hearing the crunch as her kneecap snapped beneath the pressure. Whether it was discipline or unconsciousness, she made no noise.

The bullets thudded into his flesh. He laughed, the daemonic energies casting several tones to his voice.

"Ooooh, that tickles." He bent over and lifted the limp form of the Chimera, ripping her helmet off and casting it away. Khang held her in front of him, the fire temporarily stopped. Her eyes had rolled back into her head.

"Can't have you missing any of the fun!" He exclaimed, mock concern in his voice. He shifted his hold, putting each hand under her hair, thumbs underneath her ears, his palms across her cheeks, holding her out like an offering.

"May vos putesco sensim subter supter Nurgle's pes, sino eternus poena ut vestri somes est wracked per mille vomica. Dedi sursum gratiae ut Plaguefather pro suus munia. Iam somnus, bitch." He spoke reverently, as he pressed his middle finger into her eye sockets, pressure increasing slowly. She spasmed in his grasp, and he grinned viciously as his fingers pierced her eyes, driving deep into her skull, he felt the squishy gore overflow, spilling crimson and gelly down her cheeks. Deeper, further, until she stopped moving. He dropped her limp form to the ground, bent and picked up Stigmata. He smashed the end of the mace into the head, reducing the skull to pulp, and laughed again at the slurping sounds as the mace fed.

"Now, you wanted to play?" He grabbed the discarded P-90. He had seen how it was operated, but lacked the aim. He simply hoped there was enough fire to take another down.

(Summary: Sick of their bullshit, Khang tricks them by feigning a swing then tossing it in the same arc. He gets one down long enough to gruesomely murder her, as well as activating the Plea, and offering a benediction to Nurgle. He grabs the P-90 and lets Stigmata drink it's fill.)
 
A

Arsenal XA4

Guest
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

(Musical Ambience:
<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/78GP0_jynoA&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/78GP0_jynoA&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>
)

There was a loud bang followed by an even louder explosion. Khang was thrown to the far side of the motor pool, assisted by a TOW II anti-tank missile. A Humvee had been rolled out of its parking space, the weapon mount loaded and trained. The Chimeras had fallen back but the laughter persisted.

"Play with us some more! Please, make us happy!"

"You want happy... I'll give y-" Khang was cut off as another explosion threw him. He heard a whining noise then a whine as a spinning blade cut into metal. Khang looked up and was greeted by the motor pool's crane as it fell on top of him, two tons of machinery flooring him.

"Play with us! Play with us! Play with us!!!"

-----------------------------------------

TOC...

"Mastress, we've recovered Basset Hound's remains." a Chimera reported to Archetype.

"Send her to the machine shop and mate her with the necessary components. I want her back in the fight as soon as possible." s/he ordered.

"Yes, Mastress..." Archetype watched Khang muscle the crane off of him.

"Persistent bastard." s/he mused.

"Mastress, Chimera batches twenty six and thirty nine are ready for action."

"Deploy them. Have them lure him out of the motor pool and into decontamination."

"Affirmative..." Archetype watched hir Chimeras continue their guerilla tactics, wearing the Plague Knight down. Once he was in Decon the Alphas and Betas would be deployed. There was no need to deploy the Gammas yet.

Keyword being yet...

-----------------------

(OOC)
-Chimeras continue to toy with Khang, despite their losses.
(/OOC)
 
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W

Warmaster Death

Guest
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

Above Underbase 66
The last ISAF Traitor breathed heavilly, sitting as he was in the ruins of a housing complex.
his stomach had been opened by the zombie that lay at his feet, and killing that ahd used up the last of his ammunition.
as the sound of shuffling feet grew ever louder, the ISAF traitor withdrew his last ditch beacon, that all the ISAF traitors had been given, by the Warmaster himself, and told only to use in the most dire of circumstances.
the Traitor licked his lips and activated the beacon, just in time to see the first of the Zombies that had persued him this far shamble through the doorway,



Thunder roared and lightning crackled, and the Traitor screamed in abject agony as his body was consumed by the eldritch lightning.

the zombie's flesh burned and charred but the creature merely kept moving through the unnatural storm towards the traitors corpse, intent on feeding.

its shambling only stopped when it collided with something made of cold steel, and it snarled in displeasure, that is until something smashed through it's skull and threw its corpse against the wall.

with a snarl of pleasure, a power armored figure, the flesh on the right side of its face torn away around the empty eye socket, moved to exit the room and head towards the entrance to underbase 66.

as he stepped into the midday gloom, the figure set its vox to broadcast over all frequencies
"Colonel, this is the Warmaster, we need to talk" he growled softly into the vox, overemphasising the word 'need'

ooc: the ISAF soldiers were all given beacons with which to teleport WMD inside the walls of the city above underbase 66.


one of the mercenaries, enar death and devoid of ammunition, activates his beacon, and WMD materializes, sending a message for archetype over all frequencies as he heads for the entrance to the underbase.
 
A

Arsenal XA4

Guest
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

TOC, Underbase 66...

"Curiouser and curiouser..." Archetype mused.

"Mastress, he's broadcasting on all channels." one of the Chimeras reported to Archetype. S/he opened two channels. One to WMD, the other to Scrap Iron City. The screen showed live feed from Underbase IV's TOC.

"Colonel, what's-" Archetype motioned for Rosoft to be silent. S/he picked up a small white board and wrote 'LISTEN' on it, showing it to Rosoft.

"Warmaster Death. What a surprise... I'm going to assume that thing down in the Motor Pool is yours." s/he asked, watching Khang still trying to engage the Chimeras. Archetype's foot soldiers were leading him to Decontamination, the doors cutting off his retreat.

"I'd really like to know why you, of all people, have seen fit to infiltrate a sovereign nation."

-----------------------------

(Musical Ambience:)

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Stoltz Auditorium, Second Los Alamos High School
Underbase 57...


Soldiers sat in the high school auditorium seats or milled about in the aisles. A meeting of the higher officers had been called. The enlisted were making final preparations of their weapons and equipmen even as the last of the refugee planes landed. Backstage Field Commander McCarthy leaned against a wall, a crumpled letter in his hand.

Scrap Iron City had seen fit to give him operational command of the counter offensive as he was the highest ranking officer in the field at the present moment. He was trying to come to terms with the sudden authority that had been placed on his shoulders.

"Carl, listen..." Road Rage spoke up, approaching Carl and pulling him from his reverie. "You gotta show the boys sittin' out there that YOU can do this." Carl nodded, jamming the letter into a mag pouch.

"You're right... Let's get this over with..." the tanker finally said, walking out on stage. The officers in the auditorium stood at attention.

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"As you were." Carl said, the soldiers taking their seats. "Scrap Iron City has been under seige for the last day and a half. They are, for the most part, helpless and unable to move."

"We, on the other hand, have all the mobility the capitol requires for liberation."

"I know most of us were supposed to be on leave today, what with it being Patriots Day, however fate has called us at a time not of our choosing." The lights grew dim and a projector showed the battle plan for the liberation of Scrap Iron City.

"We've seen the monsters that forced us out of our own capitol. These stone spiders." An image of the spiders appeared on screen. "However we've also seen that they can be destroyed." The image was replaced with footage of Sergeant Spears, Marvin, and Jake taking out a spider.

"Unfortunately we know it is too risky to send ground troops against these behemoths. They wiped out two fighter squadrons in their first hostile action before they attacked Scrap Iron City itself."

"To that end we are going to blind and maim these spiders." The image changed again, this time showing Paveway III bunker defeating munitions. "We have determined that the 'eyes' are not only the primary weapon of the spiders but also their primary means of sight. However even without their eyes they have shown the ability to destroy in their orb mode." The image changed yet again to show one of the spiders rolled up.

"The objective is to target the eyes with precision guided munitions. F-117X Black Jets have been selected as the strike fighter of choice for this mission. Once blinded, F-16XL and B-96 Aurora bombers will lash out with JDAMs to tear them limb from limb." The image changed to show both the JDAM bombs and the two bombers.

"After this point it will fall upon ground attack craft and gunships to destroy what is left of the spiders."

"Then the ground war will begin. Our major cities were gassed, in order to prevent the enemy from taking our homes, however we've seen that these spiders have a third form. This allows them to call reinforcements as needed."

"Rock Eaters, your task will be knocking out the summoners when they shift over." Carl said, looking to where the bomber crews of the B-1B Lancer bombers sat. The image on the screen showed the spider Spears, Jake, and Marvin took out in it's summoning form. "We believe that crystal to be the target point. Hit it with precision ordnance and leave the rest to the ground troops."

"Speaking of which..." Carl paused, taking a moment to choose his words. "I will not lie when I say this. There will be mass casualties. But we have to... We MUST show these invaders that we are an enemy to behold and fear."

"They kicked our front door in. Now we must kick them back out."

"Soldiers, attention!" Road Rage barked out, the officers rising.

"Dismissed..." Carl finished, walking off the stage, Road Rage following.

"I need to speak with my tankers..." he confided to the laser commander.

"So do I, bossman... Don't know how many are gonna still be standin' by the end o' the week."

---------------------------------

(OOC)
-Archetype engages WMD over the radio, linking the chat to Scrap Iron City.
-Field Commander McCarthy, now in charge of the counter offensive, addresses the troops.
(/OOC)
 
K

Krang

Guest
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

"Wait up!" Khang called mockingly after the fleeing Chimera's. They taunted him, running a ways ahead. Some magic pushed them to great speeds at little effort, far out matching his own. They sprung ahead, turned, spat fire from their little guns, peppering Khang's bare chest. He had long abandoned the tattered uniform they had forced him into for infiltration. Fat chance of that now. His chest was cut through with the tripled-circled insignia of Nurgle, his back with the Eight-Point Mark of Chaos.

"EGO vigilo cruor cado ex divum! EGO no is run vicissim! EGO perfusus humus in cruor. EGO brought dominatio mugio, quod frendo suum skulls! EGO afflicted civis per vomica interimo millions! Per Prosterno Vox , EGO VADUM ANIMADVERTO VOS TOTUS MORTUUS!" He howled at them. They simply giggled and continued. Khang snarled. He had tricked them once, time to do so once more. Stigmata clattered to the floor. Khang fell to one knee suddenly, feeling the daemonic energies of the Plaguefather desert him. Fatigue weighed on him, his body aching for the Grandfather's caress once more. Khang staggered into a small segway, blocked by massive iron doors. He groaned loudly and fell to the floor, unto his back. The wounds rent by the fire-spitting weapons bled a constant stream of thick, tar-like green blood.

They approached, silent, for once, their guns trained on him. Warily, they stepped around him, conferring with each other somehow. An armored figure knelt next to Khang, and he felt cold metal press into his side. They conferred once more, then circled him again. One stepped forward, pointing her gun at his forehead. Khang jerked his head to the side, feeling the chips of cement thrown up by the shot graze his cheek. His reached out and grabbed the lithe figure's ankle.

"Fool you once, shame on me." Khang squeezed, feeling bone crunch beneath his hand. He rolled over, scrambling up into a charge, catching the Chimera as she tried to limp to the side. He grabbed, her lifting her over his head, turning on the other one. Bullets peppered his chest, throwing more blood to sizzle on the cement. He chucked the wriggling form at her companion, nailing the other one in the chest. He strode over, scooping up Stigmata. The first one up received a massive blow to the kneecap, reversing it in a spray of gore. As she fell to the ground, he kicked away the discarded P-90, and turned on the one trying to limp off on a shattered ankle. He whipped her to the floor with a backhand. He put one foot on her back, holding her in place.

"Fool you twice, shame on you." He stomped, silencing her wriggling. He grabbed her around the neck and lifted her, easily supporting her weight on one hand. She stared down at him with uncontained hatred. Khang smashed her into the wall, once, twice, three times until she ceased squirming. He flung the unconcious body away, and turned on the remaining Chimera. She had managed to crawl almost to her P-90, her obliterated knee leaving a crimson trail across the cement. He moseyed over, stomping her fingers when she reached the weapon.

"Oh, no-no-no. I have plans for you." He kicked her over onto her side, stomping in the other knee. She let out a squeak, and Khang smiled.
"Honey to my ears." He straddled her, knee on both arms. "You see, I had so many plans for you, but as your friends are no doubt on the way to see what's taking so long. Plus, I'm on a shortage of sharp objects, so I'll have to make do," He drew her machete. "...with this!" He bent over, his fetid breath making her grimace. He drew her mouth open, relished the horror and disgust in her eyes as she realized what he was going to do to her.

(OOC: Warning, following disposal method is pretty graphic. Like, by "graphic" I mean seriously fucked up.)
He felt his insides churn, and sprayed acidic bile. The screams lasted as long as it took for it to reach her face. Shame, you apparently need oxygen to screech. The eye's were the first to go, similar to water on boil. The acid ate through the skin rapidly, dissolving it with a fleshy hissss. She gurgled in pain, as the acid burned through her throat, eating wholes right through from which poured a mix of crimson and green. A moment later, she spasmed a final time and lay still. Khang grinned and got to work with the machete.

He stepped out from the segway, bearing the grim trophy on his hand, working the mouth with his thumb, and wiggling his fingers through the eye sockets. The entire episode had taken a minute and a half. The Chimera's had just started moving towards the segway when he emerged. He showed them his trophy.

"See?" Khang's voice mimicking the feminine voice as he mimed the speaking with his thumb.

"All he wants, is to get to know us better!"

(OOC: Ryker let me kill one more. I thought How do I out-do popping eye sockets and probing the brain? Why you have to read to find out!

Summary for Boring People: Khang tricks the silly Chimera again, even more gruesomely murdering this one, and incapacitating another.)
 
A

Arsenal XA4

Guest
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

The giggling persisted however there was something else. The Chimeras had fallen back, continuing to laugh.

"Fell for it..." someone said behind Khang. He turned, Stigmata at the ready, however there was nothing there.

Just the door sliding shut and sealing.

"Coward! This will not stop me! HEAR ME!!!" Khang bellowed out.

-------------------

Underbase 66 TOC...

"Number 18, show our guest some hospitality." Archetype said into the handset. There was no reply.

Archetype didn't need a reply. S/he knew the order was being processed.

----------------------------

Decontamination...

The giggling stopped. It was replaced with mechanically assisted breathing.

Lots and lots of breathers. Khang swung about, looking for the source.

They dropped all around him, hunched over forms that looked nothing like the Chimeras that had been toying with Khang.

EgoRangers.jpg


Had they stood upright they would have reached eight feet in height. Khang looked for firearms. He saw no such thing. One Ego-Ranger brought it's right arm up. There was no hand, just a long bar.

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"Is this the best you go-" Khang was knocked onto his face, one of the Ego-Rangers rolling back to it's feet. The cyborgs were moving all around him now. He got back up and was knocked over again, this time tripped up.

"I'm getting tired of this!" he shouted, an Ego-Ranger swinging it's bar arm at him. There was no feeling of impact, however. Instead there was a searing pain in Khang's side. He looked at the Ego-Ranger and saw the edges of the bar arm were glowing green.

The damn bars were laser batons. They came in swiftly, striking him with their laser batons, slicing every which part of him was accessible to them. As swiftly as the attack started it ended, the Ego-Rangers backing away from Khang.

"Commencing decontamination procedures." a voice said over the intercom. Khang watched the cyborgs leap up and climb into the overhead, leaving him as the sprinkler system showered him with chemical neutralizers. It was over in twenty minutes, the far door opening.

"I see you're still alive." Archetype said over the base intercom. "If you turn back now you may just leave with your life."

---------------------------

(OOC)
-Chimeras withdraw and Ego-Rangers engage Khang, inflicting multiple cuts on his body with their laser batons before withdrawing. Khang is then 'decontaminated.'
(/OOC)
 
W

Warmaster Death

Guest
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

Musical Score: (Go To) California - Rob Zombie


Get up get out get inside the outside, get up get out get in.


The warmaster laughed as he passed the ruins of the shattered Humvee, his augmentics had failed him so he had torn them out (for the time being), and he did not hesitate in delivering his reply to Archetype

"Colonel, you wound my Integrity" he purred
"I have done no such thing, merely provided you with a test bed of desease, a paragon of decay and a subject with which to perhaps negotiate the release of some Prolific X virus into my care, as you've no doubt noticed, the Champions of Plaugefather Nurgle are extremely resilliant, even though he wears little more than medevil armor, Khang, who thought he came here to steal vials of the virus, shrugs off wounds that would kill lesser men, wounds that could perhaps kill a 'normal' space marine, surely the ISAF could benefit from such sheer toughness, but that is not all Khang can offer you with just his presence, every Viral agent known to mankind and more live and thrive on his body, and no amount of decontamination or cures can readily be found, for the Plaugefather lovingly lavishes his 'gifts' upon his chosen" the Sapce Marine came to the entrace to the underbase, and stepped through the doorway, as though he were simply entering his home.

"whats more my dear" WMD continued, his tone loosing some of its more, business-like structure as he changed subjects
"i must admit for the longest time i actually feared you, for you reprisented a rather, unique aspect of my history, and particularly your famous Flesh Menagerie, are perfect entreties to Slaanesh, a god to whom I must reseal my allegience, redeclare my loyalty, and all I ask is that you accept the gift of corpses and prisoners i send to you in the coming months and years, and utilise them in your, art" he said smiling as he walked through the now deserted garage area.
 
A

Arsenal XA4

Guest
Re: Dystopia - CHAPTER 5

Underbase 66 TOC...

"Prime Minister, you and I both know Prolific X is too dangerous to release to the hands of another." Archetype said to Rosoft. The Joint Chiefs of Staff had gathered in Underbase IV's TOC.

"True... But wasn't there another virus you were working on? A weaker one?" Rosoft asked.

"Regenesis, yes... But it still doesn't sit well with me, giving him even that." Regenesis was an experiment in reengineering Prolific X as an all purpose healing solution. Archetype had used it on hir own Chimeras, however they died within hours, their bodies reprocessed into Ego-Rangers. S/he then used them on live subjects, soldiers that had recieved mortal wounds in training accidents. While it worked it only kept them stable for a few days. Without regular administration of certain amino acids the soldiers began exhibiting signs of dimmentia, paranoid schizophrenia, and cerebral deterioration.

Three of the twenty symptoms associated with the Hate Plague.

"Do not give him the amino acids. Just give him Regenesis." Rosoft cautioned. "With any luck he'll realize too late what we've given them."

Archetype nodded then put Underbase IV on mute then picked up the handset.

"Warmaster, before a deal is brokered I must ask you something... Why do you want the deadliest virus in Iwaku's history and why should I take a walking biohazard when, through Prolific X's dissection and the application of nanomachines, I have managed to develop cures for most of man's worst diseases?"

--------------------------

(OOC)
-Open negotiations. Prime Minister Rosoft orders Archetype to give WMD a watered down version of Prolific X, Regenesis.
(/OOC)
 
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