Let's see what I was doing... writing code and napping.
Try something new.
Cyrus positioned his knife's blade towards the oncoming tendril, swinging it around in his hand so the pommel was closest to his thumb. When the tendril met his blade, he tried using the creature's strength against it- hope it would push towards him, create a deeper cut as it pushed further into the blade...
Was it going to work? That was the fun in it, honestly...
"Jack, you have debauched my sloth."With a mighty pull, the Harvester finally managed to pull the gun from Cyrus' hand, and promptly carried it up, placing it delicately in the pouch between it's core and the ceiling. Meanwhile, the thicker tendril made a sudden upwards pull when the knife sunk into it, catching the blade on an especially thick internal metallic tube and tearing it from Cyrus' grasp. The tendril itself was significantly damaged in the process, and the silver caused intense pain, but it had served its part as both distraction and a way to remove the knife. It then attempted to grab the knife in mid-air with one of the thinner tentacles, but missed; instead the knife flew away, clattering to the ground several feet from Cyrus. Well, at least he had the mass driver. So it was satisfied that, for now, the biped could no longer puncture it with those damnable silver bullets. This done, it resumed its repairs.
A wicked grin spread across the young man's face as his hand instinctively slid to his supply pouch.
The beast forgot something.
A thin flash of silver, and the sound of the tiny dart piercing flesh.
Sneaking back over, he used the extra time that the dart bought him to retrieve his knife, keeping an eye on it the entire time...
The first ghost he had ever met to learn that silver does more stuff than just smell bad. Ehehehe.
edited 3rd May '11 8:33:02 PM by CrystalGlacia
"Jack, you have debauched my sloth."Adam shattered a floorboard with a swift kick and ripped a section of plank from the floor. If commonplace projectile weapons are not available, improvise. He took aim, drew back, and launched the plank at the creature like an oversized dart.
Traveling at half the speed of sound, the plank sunk deep into the creature's flesh, ripping right through its tentacles in the process. While it was howling in pain, Adam calmly prepared his next volley.
I've got new mythological machinery, and very handsome supernatural scenery. Goodfae: a mafia web serialKiora sprinted into the room, drawing her sword. She had to trust Kohana to keep an eye on the rest of the group if danger struck. If it comes to that. We're dealing with ghosts. The queen of the undead should be able to help.
"Alright, let me get in on this," she said, sliding to a halt beside Cyrus. "I still really wanna kill something." As long as it's not human...
She eyed the mass of tentacles, parts of the floor sticking out of it, several of its appendages pierced by Cyrus' darts. "What the hell is that?"
No one believes me when I say angels can turn their panties into guns.It finally fell, letting loose one last howl of pain, landing on the floor with a wet thud. It then began, slowly, to melt into a puddle of pure ectoplasm, writhing and flailing wildly at every living creature it could find. It could not afford to die, not here... too much was at stake... too much was at stake... every iota of its will was now focused simply on enduring, on surviving. It could no longer even feel the pain. But it knew it was dying, unable to deny the inevitable. It would take a miracle to save it now. It began to make a sound — to human ears, it sounded like an agonized, horrible scream, mixed with the sounds of metal grinding and nails upon a chalkboard. But there was a vague rhythm and pattern to be made out, if one paid attention; it was a song. A song, sung in desperation, to distract its mind from the oncoming oblivion.
When it fell a pouch, made of real flesh instead of ectoplasm, and placed atop its core, came with it. Contained within were Cyrus' gun, a large pile of rotting meat, a bunch of loose nuts and bolts, and a glass jar, containing a sharp, jet-black shard of... something.
edited 4th May '11 11:18:58 AM by KillerClowns
Well, that was pretty fun.
Taking care to keep his cloak out of the small pool of filth on the floor, Cyrus delicately moved the "pouch" towards him, out of the pool using a large sliver of snapped wood. He knelt down and sliced the top of the "pouch" off with his knife, cutting as much of the pouch walls as he could so he wouldn't have to touch it and could get a better view.
He sifted through mess using the wood sliver, picking through the hunks of rotting flesh for his pistol. It was like performing surgery. Surgery that almost turned his stomach. He'd slaughtered cattle before this during his previous life as a Farmboy, but this... ugh.
He swallowed and tried to ignore the stench. By the time he was done, he had picked out his silver pistol and a little jar with a black shard of some kind.
At this rate, his pistol was probably ruined. He'd need a new one; they weren't going to be happy about that, but...
"Jack, you have debauched my sloth."Mary was about to open the door when she sensed a small smell.
"Eww..." she fanned the air away from her nose using her free hand, "What is that?"
She stood up straight and walked through the living room. Fortunately, the sounds of the fight had diseappered, giving away to the ambience of the rain. She turned a corner into the front hall and peeked out. It seemed like everyone was in one piece.
"Hey," Mary said, pinching her nose, "What died in here?" To her, the answer was quite obvious.
Kiora frowned as she sheathed her sword. "Well that was anti-climactic." Figures. It dies as I run into the room. She turned to Mary.
"Some kind of tentacle monster." Judging from its remains, it had been some kind of ghost, that had taken on physical form somehow. Death had robbed it of its form, except for the pungent pouch Cyrus was digging through.
"Perhaps we should search the rest of the house?" she suggested.
edited 4th May '11 4:05:42 PM by animemetalhead
No one believes me when I say angels can turn their panties into guns."I agree," Valentine suggested as she stepped out from behind a nearby door frame. Seeing the looks she was getting, she held her hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, so I may have tactically retreated, but let's be honest here." She pointed at Adam and Cyrus, "Would you two have been pleased if I had been fumbling around, not knowing what to do, and in your way while you killed the thing you were actually trained to kill?"
Seeing the jar get picked up by Cyrus, she decided to change the subject. "What's that? Looks pretty valuable from what I can guess. A gemstone perhaps?"
edited 4th May '11 5:56:17 PM by GIG
Molly waited behind the doorway while Elise poked her head in, covering her eyes.
"You found a jewel?" Her voice lit up even though there was death that she couldn't smell.
"Hm? Oh, this?" Cyrus held up the jar, still kneeling on the floor. "I... wouldn't call this thing a jewel. Obsidian is black."
What makes a chunk of obsidian special enough to deserve a little jar, though?
He stood up, simultaneously sensing around for any other shit to bust in through the walls. He had the clean the grime off his gun before putting it back in the holster, though- otherwise, it might glue itself in there or something.
"Jack, you have debauched my sloth.""Oh, it's not obsidian." Adam piped in cheerfully. "Contents of the jar are an anomaly, to be precise. It doesn't match any known chemical signatures and I have no record of such a material in my archives. It is, simply put," he airquoted, "stuff. Just stuff."
Rubbing his hands together, Adam looked positively delighted, like a kid in a candy store.
I've got new mythological machinery, and very handsome supernatural scenery. Goodfae: a mafia web serialKiora activated her Byakugan and peered at the jar. "That's... odd," she said, cocking her head to the sight slightly. "It's making the jar opaque when I try and look through it. You don't suppose it could be something magical?"
Should get Kohana in here to look at it, she thought. She'd probably know what it is.
No one believes me when I say angels can turn their panties into guns.Elise stood in the doorway, still with her eyes covered.
"You found a black thingy?"
That... shard gave off an odd feeling that Molly couldn't pin down. It was new to her, yet completely inscrutable; it didn't feel like silver, though...
However, discovering something like that...
Yeah, Cyrus' bosses would kill him if he didn't take it with him.
"Anyone care if I take it with me?"
"Jack, you have debauched my sloth."Mary thought for a moment, tilting her head ever so slightly. The black thing she could do without, "Sure," she said, "I don't need it. Hopefully, it will benefit you."
She looked at the direction of the living room. She gestured at it by shaking her flashlight, "I think I found a green house back there. Do you think we should go there?"
She hoped one of the visitors could start a fire.
"Works for me," Kiora said. "Like I said, I've got your back. And as long as I have this," she shook her sword by its scabbard. "I can fight those ghosts and demons."
She turned to Cyrus and Adam. "You two should search upstairs. Take Valentine with you." That'll keep her fairly safe.
Now where's that damn vampire, she wondered, looking around. Kohana couldn't be far.
Sure enough, there was a tap on her shoulder. "You're coming with me," she said, spinning to face the centuries old creature with a ten-year-old's exterior. "We're investigating the greenhouse. We're dealing with ghosts. Got any tips?"
Kohana shook her head. "Not a damn clue. Never fought ghosts. Met these guys once, though, in New York..."
No one believes me when I say angels can turn their panties into guns.Cyrus shrugged and pocketed the jar.
"From where I come from, ghosts are weak to silver anything. Hence why my weapons are silver." He paused on his words, still sounding insincere and condescending. "So... if you find anything made out of silver around here... I suggest you pick it up."
He stood, walking towards the door and heading past Elise and Molly. "And, Mary... you get the giant koi." He smiled.
As they left the kitchen area, Molly nudged Elise away from the mess behind her over towards Mary, while Cyrus headed upstairs.
Wonder how long this place was underground. It should've been protected from the elements that way, but it still looked weathered. It must've stood outside like a normal house at some point.
"Jack, you have debauched my sloth.""Well now," Valentine smirked, "I guess I should try to fix some burned bridges, now shouldn't I?" Following after Cyrus, she climbed the stairs behind him.
"So Cyrus," Valentine started, "I think that was started off on the wrong foot when we first met-" Insofar that I blatantly lied to you and tried to pick a fight with a ninja. "and then when we met up again-" In retrospect I really should not have tried to pick a fight with a guy who can wreck demons and ghosts quite easily. "So I just wanted to say I'm sorry for being so rude." She held out her hand for him to shake. "So, apology accepted?"?"
Cyrus paused for a moment, as though trying to search for a reason to not trust her or accept her apology.
He couldn't find one.
"Eh, sure." He returned the gesture, then went back to trying to pinpoint something... it was weak, but felt like it was coming from everywhere. The place must've been haunted before it descended underground, definitely...
Christ, what an entry-level assignment.
Oh, well. At least he was having fun.
He felt his phone vibrate in his pants pocket, but he didn't want to get it out now... there were people around.
"Jack, you have debauched my sloth."Frederick was keeping his distance. Honestly, he didn't know what else to do. Helen was angry, the dreary, depressing surrounding were doing little to help, and he knew that an angry Helen was a Helen to be best avoided.
"I still don't see what relevance this place has," Helen said, gesturing at the faded reds and blues of the massive tent in front of them. What appeared to be a gothic cathedral was perched haphazardly off to the side. To Frederick it was like the work of a sloppily trained planner, somebody who had not been adequately prepared for their task. It was random and chaotic, and though random chaos had its place the layout of an amusement park was not one of those places.
"You've seen the chat logs. In Hector's own words, this is a 'metaphysically impossible location.'"
"I mean what relevance it has to us," Helen said, furrowing her brow in annoyance. "Nothing we do here affects what happens in Odyssey. What happens here happens in a vacuum, completely irrelevant to our lives."
Frederick shrugged in resignation. "We could die."
Helen raised an eyebrow, challenging Frederick. "We were sent here to observe, and not engage anything. You are dangerous. I am dangerous. How much money are you placing on our mortality?"
When Frederick remained silent, Helen smiled. "That's what I thought. Checking out that Frankenstein-deal place sounds good, no? Let's move."
Frederick managed one more question: "What happens if someone gets in our way?"
"Business as usual, I guess. Are you cool with that?"
"It's agreeable."
The dirt and yellow grass vanished from their view as the two people disappeared from the dilapidated lawn.
Whatcha gonna do, little buckaroo? | i be pimpin' madoka ficsCyrus' group neared a stairwell, which they almost entered had it not been for a noise.
A sharp, metallic creak. In a rhythm, as though it was swinging.
Creaking. Over and over, the remains of decades-old cobwebs having been pulled apart, their silvery threads still hanging from the ceiling, from the chain attached to the ceiling, from the heavier chandelier that pulled the chain taut.
Cyrus remained in the doorway, using his hands to keep his charge out of the area.
It was completely dark, except for dim, flickering lights above.
Making sure not to look directly at the chandelier, he cautiously watched the small cast of light on the wall of the stairwell, as a shadowy shape came into view.
A spider, its tiny body probably magnified by the light's distance from the wall, seemed to begin work on a new web, its old web having been destroyed.
Its eight legs slipping around and spinning invisible threads, it... still never seemed to leave the view of the light.
It would probably do nothing, even though his now-ruined gun would probably work better.
Cyrus felt around for a new dart, flinging it upwards.
The dart sounded like it pierced a ghost's nonexistent flesh as he watched the spider fall out of the light's view, and something tumble a small way down the upper staircase. A body, followed by something metallic clattering.
The entity attempted to collect herself, rubbing her leg as though it had a bruise and muttering small cries of pain as she gripped the banister and pulled herself back up.
Cyrus watched her carefully from the darkness cast by the upper staircase as she moved around, trying to collect the other objects she dropped. Knitting needles. One of them had her project still attached to it, some of the loose threads having been knocked awry.
His halo was glowing bright enough to be noticed. Fuck!
Her footsteps clicked against the wood steps as she came to the landing.
Finally, she emerged, with little more than her outline visible, and he saw a pair or glowing, empty yellow orbs stare blankly back at him.
edited 9th May '11 12:44:26 PM by CrystalGlacia
"Jack, you have debauched my sloth."The bag of flesh smelled like shit.
"Okay, that's definitely not normal blood," Helen said, covering her nose. "Are those...screws and tentacles...? It seems pretty small, too."
Frederick made a quick survey of the room, his body tensed and his hand hovering over the pistol concealed in his jacket pocket. Whatever that thing was, there could be more, and whether or not the things were dangerous remained to be seen.
"Bullet holes in the ceiling," Frederick said. "There was a fight."
Helen nodded. “I would assume that that thing was hostile, given what Hector told us.”
“Right,” Frederick said, taking a step towards the putrid pile of shredded flesh.
“What are you doing?” Helen asked.
Yanking a plank of wood from an already-splintered patch of floor as a makeshift probe, Frederick began to inspect the pouch. “You didn’t go through OPD training. Anything not human? Don’t trust ordinary tactics as much as you ordinarily would. Somehow this thing was killed, and I want to know how.”
Turning the pouch over, Frederick uncovered several embedded bullets. “Well, at least these still work,” he said, handing them to Helen. Gingerly placing them between her fingers, Helen held the bullets up to the light.
She paused and frowned. “These aren’t normal bullets. When was the last time you saw tarnish on lead?”
“Silver,” Frederick muttered. “Odd.”
“Of course not. Didn’t you know? Silver is super-effective against werewolves and vampires.”
Frederick laughed dully as he continued to sift through the flesh. “Darts,” he said, removing two. “Also silver.”
“I’ll take those,” Helen said, slipping them into her pocket. “Anything else?”
“No. Feel free to use guns. Silver might be its weakness, but I see signs of ordinary blunt force trauma too. “
Saying so, Frederick drew a plastic tube from his pocket, along with a combat knife. Slicing a bit of tissue off the pile, he placed it inside his tube.
Helen grimaced. “That’s a bit…macabre, isn’t it? Don’t you have a proper scalpel?”
“I didn’t expect bio-samples.”
“Yet you brought that tube?” Helen said, crossing her arms.
Frederick cracked a small grin. “Preparation never hurts, no?”
A creaking noise abruptly terminated the conversation. Quickly, Frederick drew his sidearm. Upstairs, he mouthed, finger extended towards the ceiling.
Helen nodded, tying her blonde hair into a manageable ponytail. Another sound came from that direction, sending shivers down Helen’s spine—that of metal slicing through flesh.
Frederick straightened up from the floor and led the way out the door, with Helen close at his heels. They had been told by Hector to observe, but hell, if he had expected them to be able to collect any meaningful observations without getting a little down-and-dirty themselves?
They were armed, dangerous, and ready to deal with any threat, human or not.
edited 9th May '11 11:47:42 PM by Chubert
Whatcha gonna do, little buckaroo? | i be pimpin' madoka ficsMeanwhile, Mary was on the first floor. She stood in the hallway, examining the dead corpse. The smell was racid, and the floor was stained seriously. How could such a thing exist?
"I need to be better," Mary said, scratching one of her palms. She turned to her group.
"Follow me." she walked away and towards the green house door.
Kiora glanced around nervously as they entered the greenhouse. She drew her sword, catching Kohana's eye. The vampire nodded at her. Well, she thought. At least my vigilance is approved.
She wasn't sure if she should be comforted or worried by that thought.
The overgrown area was a mess of half-dead plants, various vines and more hardy specimens taking over the place. With low light, there was no way to see much farther than a few feet down each aisle. Another uncomfortable thought.
No one believes me when I say angels can turn their panties into guns.

The creature was desperate now. It awakened, just a bit, enough to survey the situation more clearly.
It was under assault by a horrendously ugly semi-sentient biped, which was emanating light from its head — highly abnormal for members of its species — wielding a mass driver and knife, both of which had severely damaged it. The biped possessed no discernible cybernetic enhancements.
It briefly considered that it may have miscalculated before its shut down. Perhaps these bipeds were fully sentient? Certainly, if they were, they possessed a bizarre, alien mind — so passionate, so unfocused, so inefficient. No, no, they were far too bestial, despite their impressive mastery of tool use. They showed some primitive signs of self-enhancement, certainly, but the creature knew that in order to be counted as truly sentient, a creature needed to have modified itself quite a bit more than these beasts ever had. Clearly, they weren't intelligent enough to negotiate with; the only option was to destroy them, or chase them off.
The Harvester calculated scenario after scenario. Without its weapons, the biped would be no match for it, but attempting to remove the mass driver had resulted in attack by the knife. Attempting to grab the knife was impossible, unless...
It ran the calculations several times. The damage to itself would be severe. And yet...
All three of its undamaged tentacles went for Cyrus' gun, again pulling to towards a blank spot and attempting to pull it from his grasp. Then it detached one of its massive support tendrils, thicker than a man's arm, and swung straight at Cyrus.
Sorry for the edit: I changed my mind halfway through the writing, and forgot to change the first line to match. Done now.
edited 3rd May '11 2:30:11 PM by KillerClowns