CLOSED SIGNUPS The Evrensel Conflict:Act 1--Chapter 2, Mission: Distress Call

Wiggin

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Thomas “Trigger” Holden
Location: The corridor outside the meeting room
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“Yeah, yeah, I got it!” Trigger shouted to Garrus as the alien prepared to take down the robotic feline. He made sure to stand next to Ami in case the two of them needed to move out of the way again, and held up his shotgun to fire a few more blasts into the body of the robot. The hallway echoed with the sounds of gunfire, mechanical whirring, and metal scraping. It honestly sounded awful and would have made the untrained ear wince with pain. The air smelled thickly of oil and smoke. There might’ve been a bit of singed hair in the mix, but it was hard to tell.

“I fuckin’ hate fighting bots!” Trigger groaned as he continued to shoot from the hip. It was typical that robots were sponges for bullets essentially. Their mechanical exoskeletons and slim features usually allowed for anything besides a laser to bounce off the surface, and it didn’t seem to be too much of a difference between worlds. Not to mention the arsenal that robots usually had inside of their metal casings, which would probably take down a small army if given the chance. It was overall just annoying to deal with.
 

Wade Von Doom

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Garrus Vakarian

As soon as Garrus had the shot, he took it; firing right at where the exposed parts of the beasts metal neck was. It was milliseconds, putting two rounds through the throat with the armor-piercing mod for the extra damage, then firing two more at the bots eyes in hopes of either blinding it, or adding even more damage to make sure it stayed down.
 

Wade Von Doom

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WDO5Emi.png
The numbers impossibly constant in front of her eyes rise in value. She starts to think… when one of those undead was ‘taken care of’, the numbers she sees increases. Is someone keeping score? Like Ballista? Could it be this is some kind of Ballista tournament? But the beings she has seen thus far are nothing like she has seen before.

Without realizing it Vaasha has purchased operation of the lift. She sees the initial number… and she ducks when she hears the ‘cash register’ out of nowhere, the fur along her tail standing on end for a few moments. Her hand shoots outwards to steady herself as the lift abruptly begins its ascent. Into a crouch the Mithra goes, leaning against the near wall of the lift. She closes her eyes, her arms wrapping around her robed form as she scowls, ears flattened against the top of her head. She can feel herself shivering, despite her want to keep her emotions in control. But she is scared. It’s been a long time since she has been so frightened, and so very out of her element.

The lift would come to a stop, and Vaasha pushes herself to her feet. Reaching around her waist she grasps her staff and holds it in front of herself. The moment the doors of the lift slide open, her nose wrinkles and one hand shoots up to cover it. She almost vomits with the sudden smell, it’s far worse than it was before in the previous level. And she is particularly sensitive to such things. She, sadly, has been exposed to corpses before. But you are never truly ready for it. Intrepidly she moves forward, leaning out of the lift to get a better idea what has gotten into now. Carefully would she step out fully now, her hand still covering her nose and mouth. A moment’s concentration, and the end of her staff seems to suddenly burst into flame. Orange, red and yellow flames dance around the end of the staff, but the staff does not burn. A fairly simple Fire spell, a defense in case of… well whatever there might be here.

Down the hall of dread she moves now slowly, each step careful and with purpose. The young Mithra does her best to keep her eyes level, to not have to see the carnage she traverses now. She just now realizes that everywhere she has been in this strange place… the walls are comprised of sleek metal. Superior (in appearance at least) to anything she could find at the Metalworks in Bastok. Perhaps she is just now seeing this, since she has a moment or so of not having things trying to devour her. And as she moves along the curved corridor, she makes note of the damaged walls. Were those undead here also? Did all of this machinery get destroyed by them? Are these corpses what is left of the Humes that tried to fight them? Is it possible the undead are on this floor also? It doesn’t occur to her that there is a possibility the ‘Humes’ and the machines were combating one another. She feels at this moment that the undead were the singular enemy at work.

Moving slowly, something catches her attention. Her ears perk up seeing the outline of another weapon. Vaasha’s head tilts to one side, seeing the ‘cost’. If she understands this whole number thing so far… she gets higher numbers when she is responsible for the undead being destroyed, or one of her Summons. She boarded the lift with 1800, the lift apparently cost 1250 to use. So she is left with 550. She doesn’t exactly remember what the cost of the first thing she was offered was… but she does wonder if she had gotten it… would she have had enough to ‘pay’ for the lift off of that floor? A dreadful prospect, to be sure. This new offering, the shotgun (although she doesn’t know what a shotgun is) costs 500. That would leave her with 50. If she has to use these numbers as cost to get out of here, she can’t afford to take chances on things she may not understand.

But

A light from the near room catches her attention. Her body leans to one side and she looks into the doorway that is next to the outline of the Olympia. A box? A coffer, perhaps? Quickly she slips into the room, holding her staff out at her side. Words once more appear before her eyes… the box is your friend… 950… is she being advised to take this box? But the cost is to high. But she truly feels like it would be worth her time to get it. She touches the box lightly with her free hand, still scowling at the aroma wafting through the air. Nothing happens. So… does she need to get more numbers? More points?

It’s about then her eyes widen and her ears perk up. One of her ears twists slightly towards the doorway. There’s movement in the distance… and the distinct sound of undead. A soft whine escapes her lips as the ‘Round 3’ image is shown, and then fades. Rushing to the door she peeks out, seeing movement in the distance. At the end of the hall, movement. She has to assume it’s the undead… did they follow her? Or is this new? Now she steps out of the room, looking around herself in the red light. She doesn’t have time to build a barricade…. she doesn’t yet have strength enough to try another Prime Summon. If she tries and fails, she will only be far weaker. So… a simple summon. Something to buy her time… her eyes flicker towards the flame engulfing the end of her staff, and she has an idea. Maybe she can build up some numbers here. And in turn perhaps that can give her a way out, or at least some kind of advantage. Holding her staff extended in front of her, her other hand now grasps it. Eyes close, and a black electrical energy starts to flow along her body. Her staff is drawn closer to her form, and then thrust outwards before her. 4 feet in front of her, an orb of dark forms. Ribbons of black and purple energy start to swirl rhythmically around it like ribbons. Vaasha’s free hand lowers as she now looks to the Dark Spirit she had summoned. It’s an Elemental Spirit, having no real intelligence to it. It’s more of just a piece of nature, as all of the Spirits are. Unlike her Prime Summons, these Spirits are considered by most to be little more than ‘pets’. She doesn’t see it that way… but most of her ilk would.

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The Dark Spirit floats above the deck, being a total of perhaps 4 feet high. It now starts to move towards the oncoming undead, a soft pulsing sound emanating from it. When it is around 10 feet in front of the front of the mob of undead, it lets out a pulse of purple and black energy. That same energy pulses once more, and flares outwards. Now the area for 15 feet around it is effected by the Dark Spirit’s energy. And this energy is gravity. The gravity within this field doubles… and then triples… and then quadruples. It should be enough to slow the undead mob, or perhaps even make some of them stop or drop all together.

Vaasha takes a few steps forward and then flame around the head of her staff flares up. She swings her staff and balls of flaming energy lash out towards the (hopefully) immobilized undead. Them moving slower will make it easier for the fire to consume them, she hopes. She continues to swing her staff in front of her, sending out flames as she does along the corridor towards those undead.
Her trick would work, as the zombies in front were stuck in place like a large gust of wind stopped them in their tracks; struggling to move another foot forward without losing balance. The only thing pushing them forward still was the other zombies behind them, putting their strength together until all of them were veeeeeeeeeeeery slowly pushing through the dark spirits. But the fireballs would push them back, with seven in front catching fire; their clothes and skin burning away into smoldering ash as smoke started to fill the hallway, and the flames fanned off to the other undead in the group trying to force their way through the dark spirit.

Five more would catch fire, but the flames would die off as it spread any farther, only keeping to the ones burning in the front. Yet, Vaasha's score would continue to rise though, as looking to a wall showed points being added.

+10
+10
+10
+10
+10
+10
+50
+10
+10
+10
+50
+10


For each limb that fell off an undead, like a leg or an arm, fifty points were added, while just burning them gave her ten. Eventually, her scored was raised to the point she could afford to try the box.

Vaasha:
1300


She'd need to make her choice soon of what to do, as back where she just came from, the other end of the hall were the lift was, even more echoey moaning and wailing was emerging, and faint shadows began dancing across the emergency lighting all the way down at the other end. The other other visible way out from where she was standing was the vents above her head, narrow enough to squeeze inside if she pushed in her chest, and a bolted piece of metal that looked loose enough to rip off with her bare hands with enough force.
 

Camleen

I'm going to be my own kind of princess
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The Dark Spirit doesn’t let her down (get it? Uses gravity powers?), and the horde is slowed to nearly a crawl’s pace. The firebolts do their job also, enough damage is dealt that the numbers she is impossibly seeing increases. Her mind keeps track of what the total is with each new number popping up, and she remembers how many she needs for the supposed friendly box.
The total meets the ‘cost’ and that is when she spins on her heels and darts for said box. The flames around her staff dissipate, but the damage they caused the oncoming horde continues. The Dark Spirit is taking damage, and Vaasha knows it won’t last much longer. Innately she can sense when her summoned avatars and spirits are weakened. Now she gets to the box and stares at the number. 950. She hesitates. She is unsure. She is frightened. Now a look around herself at the room she finds herself in. The Mithra mage looks for anything else of use. Another door? A barricade? Anything. Above her is a vent grate, the possibility of having to go up there frightens her a bit more. Her cat ears perk and her gaze whips towards the long hallway, a hallway illuminated by the still burning and smoldering bodies. The Dark Spirit glows dark, and then fades from sight. The heavier gravity it was producing also is gone. She has only moments.
Her staff is held down at her with one hand, her other hand reaches out and presses on the ‘950’ emblazoned upon the box. She feels her teeth grit, letting her hand press down on it for the count of 3 or so. And then she turns, her staff swinging upwards as she growls loudly. With a loud ‘BANG’ sound she hits the piece of metal that is holding the grate in place, and it does budge. But not enough to allow her access. Now she more properly faces the possible escape route and grips her staff with both hands. She swings again and lets out a cry of effort and the piece of metal loudly clangs out of its place, the grate falling open. She jumps back in surprise, almost getting hit herself. She can sense the horde closing in. She can feel death coming.
Her staff is pushed through the grate (it barely makes it), and then she leaps up. Her first jump… she misses the opening completely. Another soft cry is heard as she lands in a crouch, and then her eyes fall on the encroaching mob. And those eyes widen with realization. She prepares herself, stands and this time when she leaps up she grabs that damn edge with no problem. She thinks to herself….
Well I grabbed it… now what!?
Her feet kick as she tries to pull herself up. A loud frustrated cry echoes in the mix of moans and wails from the hallway, her arms trembling. She just can’t summon the strength to pull herself up! Exhausted a moment she then dangles from the grate opening, feeling tears rimming her eyes. The horde is nearly literally at her doorstep… and fear being the great motivator it is… she lets out another soft cry and hauls herself up, her legs kicking and her tail flicking angrily. She gets her elbows in, and finds herself stuck then. Oh come on! Short rapid breaths, and then she breathes in deeply, releases it and then holds her breath. And this allows her to barely wiggle up into the vent. Her tail is the last thing through the opening, and then she just collapses to try and catch her breath.
 

Jenhal

Edgebabby
Brigid Mahoney

“Alright!” Brigid exclaims when the door is breached and Trigger, Garrus and Otto assist with whatever is on the other side. She turns to Minerva.

“Minerva! Check Unrau for-” Brigid starts to instruct the woman, but is aghast to witness her disappear in a flash of green light right before her eyes.

“Shit! We lost Minerva!” She informs the others since she was the only one in the room at the time. Brigid charges out of the hole in the door, seeing no reason to remain in the room and making a bigger hole. Seeing concentrated fire on what appears to be a robotic feline on its last two legs, Brigid turns the barrel of her fifty caliber machine gun down the hallway they had come from. The robot had warned of ‘droidekas’ being on standby before their meeting.

In the context, she could only assume these droidekas were more robots like this cat with firepower. She could only hope the large bore of her bullets would be effective against them.
 

Amber Franklin

Formerly Not_Amy
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DECEPTICONS

Ami’s flash-freeze hits the robot cat full in the face. It lets out a trumpeting, loud staccato yowl and its cannons fire wildly in a wide arc in front of it. The shots from the others cause parts of it to fly off and clatter across the floor. The throat and eye shots from Garrus effectively decapitate it first, then blow it’s head apart due to the flash-freeze rendering it more fragile. The cannons stop firing. The remaining parts of the cat collapse to the floor. It smolders and hisses as parts of it continue to melt from the plasma shots that hit it. The hallway is for a few moments, quiet save for these noises.

The quiet is broken when, behind Ami and Trigger, another large grate falls to the floor, followed by Thea landing on her feet on top of it. Her cheeks are scraped, the elbows and knees of her suit scratched. Thea looks at everyone with a calm steel gaze.

“Reload and prepare to move. Our communications with the Pathfinder have been blocked. We need to find the control room of this ship in order to take control and open communication, if the Pathfinder has not been destroyed already.” Thea marches past the others, back into the conference room to retrieve the pod weapon she had discarded to get into the ventilations system. She notices they are down one member.

“What happened to Minerva?” She asks of the others after walking back out in the hallway.
 

The Wanderer

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Otto Kadovah
Apologizing and in the hallway outside the conference room


After the destruction of the robot cat thing, with an extra shot or two from Otto's plasma rifle to make sure it was effectively down for the count, he looked to the others as they recuperated from the fight for the brief time they had before they had to move. Now Otto wasn't exactly the brightest bulb, but he remembered the turned off robots in the hanger and how they might be inactive, but considering the situation and the robot cat thing, there was no guarantee that the other Droids weren't waiting with blasters at the ready to reduce them to ashes. And deciding to voice his piece on the matter. "The droids in the hanger may actually be functional and not in disrepair as we thought. The elevator could be funnel for us to be trapped and killed. Might need to consider alternative path." He said as he looked towards Thea as she went back into the room to grab her weapon, Otto peeking in to make sure the Protocol Droid was still safe under the table before he pulled his head out of the room, silent shock that the other Mandalorian had vanished into thin air.

Feeling a cold pit settle in his stomach as he realized now that he was alone again in regards of being the only Mandalorian on the crew, Otto silently wishing he had one of his fellow clan mates here, or their Clan Mother, who held wisdom on such matters and could quiet his mind. Alas he had to make do on his lonesome and keep up the appearance that he was calm, despite a very obvious tell being Otto wringing his hands under the poncho before he remembered a certain Quarian he had to talk to.

So he began walking over to Ami, silently thinking of how he was going to apologize. Plenty of ideas came to mind but eventually when he finally stood before her, he would begin by saying to her. "I am sorry....If I had known that droid was going to be out here, I would've done things differently." As he finished, he realized that there was one way for him to repay his transgressions.

A life debt.

He had endangered her life, so it was only natural that he owes her to such a degree. Continuing on, he'd add. "For endangering your life, I hereby propose myself and any services you need from me to you. A life debt that shall be held until you release me, or until either of us die." It was a nice proposition, as such a thing was rarely done and of high importance, but he didn't want to force such a thing upon her. So, for now, he simply put it out there.

@Amber Franklin @Wade Von Doom @Noble Scion @Wiggin @Jenhal
 

Noble Scion

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Ami'Lana Nar Marin

Ami would drop to a knee and take a moment to get her breath back as adrenaline continued to pump through her system as the bot was finished off by the rest of the team finally making their way through the door, blood still fresh in her mouth.

Eventually she would drag herself up, making her way first to her gun, then to her destroyed turret, her body the epitome of sadness as she'd pick up her favourite toy, sighing at its damage and uttering a single, soul-shattered word. "Broken."

It had never happened before, and while it wasn't surprising that that it would happen eventually, it didn't make it hurt any less as she'd tuck the wreck of metal and wires away, especially with it happening after being thrust into a fight on her own by her own teammate.

Thea dropping from above and Brigid calling out the news that Minerva had gone missing didn't help her mood in the slightest, combined with Otto practically tossing her into danger and her embarrassing herself in front of Garrus, she didn't think she could feel any worse, that was, until the Mandalorian began talking instead of just leaving it.

Otto declaring a life debt to her just helped to rub it all in, like she needed a bodyguard, like she hadn't spent the majority of her life training for something like this.

Her eyes would narrow on him, raising a shaky fist towards him as though she were about to go off on a rant, but she stopped herself, thinking better of it, her hand dropping back down to her side.

"You...! UGH! leave it. I'm not some fragile engineer that needs protecting! I don't even have time to sulk! Let's just get this mission over with. You will pay for this. later." Ami would hiss at him, her voice low and her rage palpable as she would reload her pistol and rifle in one fast, smooth motion, returning them to her holsters before storming after Thea.

@Amber Franklin @Wade Von Doom @The Wanderer @Wiggin @Jenhal
 

Wiggin

♫ Mr. sandman ♪
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~=========~-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~=========~
Thomas “Trigger” Holden
Location: standing in the hallway
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After the firefight, the robotic feline had finally perished in a grand explosion of sparks and metal parts. “Woooo! Let’s go- wait we lost someone?” Trigger stopped mid-cheer as he registered what Brigid exclaimed amidst the fighting. His arms had made their way up to cheer, but fell limply to his sides, the gun in his hand along with them. There always had to be one loss in these types of jobs, never really got any easier when it was so random though.

Trigger’s funk was soon wiped away as the loud clattering of a falling vent could be heard behind him. He turned around quickly, ready to fire, but stopped upon realizing that it was Thea. “great idea, let’s move and hack these bots or something,” He said nodding, he then sighed, “...And I think Minerva got incinerated in the firefight,” He said, not realizing she was caught up in another teleporting anomaly.

He then looked over at Ami, who was visibly frustrated despite her expressions not fully showing through the helmet she wore. It made sense, her tools were broken, a celebrity it sounded like essentially denied her existence over another dude, and the other said dude had pushed her into battle and apologized with a very lackluster life debt. If it had been other circumstances, he might’ve sounded nicer, but after him shoving her into a more dangerous situation and then going “I’ll protect you” does not boost confidence. He wacked Otto in the back of his helmet as he walked by to follow Thea. “Your actions gotta speak louder than your words metal-head. Shoving her into battle and saying ‘i’ll die for you’ say two very different things!” he commented.