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#Post#: 354643--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Dying World and Beyond
By: Demonreach Date: November 24, 2013, 12:51 am
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Even as the flames were dying down, the alien stalked towards
the shadows, his pale green eyes seeming to grow several shades
darker to keep them from reflecting light. He drew the new knife
but heard a familiar voice and stood, startling several men he
had crept up behind. With carefully aimed kicks, he broke their
femurs and disarmed them with a few hits from his knuckles to
their wrists and hit their temples with just as much precision.
They fell dead to the ground.
As the unnamed assailant moved to stand in front of the man, he
cocked his head slightly, the dark green turning to their
original pale green hue; the bloodshot whites making them stand
out moreso. Not a muscle twitched as he watched the man carve
symbols into the ground with a piece of metal, but his eyes were
on the gloves the man wore. For a brief second, wind gathered at
his fingertips, swirling like a drill before they dissipated.
While the strange symbols meant little to him, he understood the
mans intent.
Finally. Someone understood.
But his expression softened some, the hunter lurking the shadows
of his eyes growing fainter; his body bending at the waist in a
bow. Perhaps there was more to the man other than his love for
mechanics. If he would let the unnamed alien walk away, perhaps
he was owed an apology.
So, with a small smile, he pointed his right index finger at the
man then opened his palm to reveal a tattoo carved into the
flesh; a series of interloping circles inside a larger circle
that was surrounded by symbols, carved with extreme and delicate
detail.
But hearing the commotion outside, he frowned and moved towards
the man, though his expression wasn't as soft as before having
returned to its usual fierce expression, he kept his movements
unhurried lest he spook the man.
When he reached the last few feet, he placed the index finger
onto the mans forehead and allowed the memories of his Dying
World to enter this creatures mind. The rush of memories and
emotions that would capture the metal-loving-man would leave him
disoriented, during which time the outsider would watch over
him, dispelling any attacks. But everything remained calm,
though the men in black were still present, if wary.
As the metal loving man would no doubt be reeling from the
hordes of memories implanted into his head, the outsider would
form a dome of air around him as he walked towards the
black-clad figures. He heard them bringing up their boom-sticks,
focusing in on him. His patience worn down, he heated up the air
around the boom-sticks, letting the air seep into the openings
and cracks of the metal. They had gloves on, so the heat
wouldn't reach their hands, which was unfortunate for them.
Eventually the casings of the bullets got hot enough that they
set off the black powder within the bullet casings. It was an
unfortunate side-effect, one he didn't know would happen, as he
just wanted them to drop their weapons. But dozens of the guns
went off at once, blowing up in their face, sending metal shards
into the flesh; they dropped the weapons, as he had intended,
and clutched at their faces, screaming. His head tilted to the
side as he watched.
[center]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~[/center]
It was unreal, watching the unknown attacker walk so calmly
outside and used his magic to set off the guns. The field agent
wouldn't have thought such a thing possible, or that even magic
existed, but this man...
He had been spared the fate of his comrades, as he had just
gotten on scene; and that he was a sniper. Hiding in one of the
taller buildings, he had an excellent view, but fear stayed his
trigger-finger. Fear and a mix of wonder and shock.
The unknown was a predator, and didn't seem to have a conscience
as he stared at screaming men, who either ran or attacked
blindly. The green-eyed figure dispatched them deftly and
quickly, though didn't go out of his way to kill all of them.
Just those that attacked. It made the sniper wonder if the
unknown had meant to set off the bullets. But the unknown was
just so... otherworldly, so alien. He didn't even have a shirt,
and his pants were little more than glorified rags. But it was
his eyes, with their pale green hues, that struck fear into the
heart of this assassin. They hardly blinked and were unnervingly
bright against the dark, tanned-skin; skin that was stretched
tight over bones oddly formed. The unknown was suffering severe
malnourishment and, from the way some of the ribs poked out at
odd angles, it was clear he had broken them various times and
had to set them himself. A poor enough job, that.
With all of this, he couldn't believe this unknown could've
known about the bullets; he simply lacked the knowledge of it.
That, and given the curious expression on his face as he had
watched. It seemed nothing surprised him.
"What's the status, agent?"
The agent jumped at the voice of his superior, and answered in a
shaky voice, "Snipers are in position, all ground units are
immobilized, sir. But I believe we should pull back. It wouldn't
do us-"
"I make the orders here! You and the other two are to take this
guy out. He blew up our base about fifty or so miles back south.
He scared one guy so bad he can't talk straight and the other
guy will lose his leg. On top of that, he destroyed that
building AND one of the helicopters. He's killed innocents, man!
So, get your shit together and take this guy out. Am I clear?
"Yes sir."
"Good."
The agent sighed, and pulled back the safety on his gun, sending
the command to the other two snipers in position.
Looking through the scope, he pulled the lever back and pushed
it back in, putting a bullet in the chamber and slowed his mind
and his breathing.
If they missed, they'd be in serious trouble.
As he was counting down to fire, after making sure the others
were ready, he noticed that the 'man' stood at full height,
staring in his general direction, as if some sixth sense gave
him some warning. What was even more unnerving was the fact that
when he looked away, he looked in the direction of the one and
then the other, though he did a full circle to eventually land
on him once again.
"Romanov, sir, are you ready?"
Had they not seen? Did they not know? He felt a chill run down
his spine, goosebumps rising. His body was cold. This unknown
target was something else.
The voices of the other two were more insistent and he shook his
head, looking through the scope was again and centering on the
mans torso. The other two would be targeting his head, in case
one of them missed. There would be no second chance.
Steadying himself and his nerves, the agent took aim...
#Post#: 354819--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Dying World and Beyond
By: CoherentInsanity Date: November 27, 2013, 3:49 pm
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The alien's smile was both haunting and reassuring. Finally,
communication had been made but the alien's intent was still not
clear. Michael cocked his head in intrigue as the man showed him
some sort of ward that was etched into his hand. It seemed to
make sense though when the same index finger reached out towards
his forehead. Michael tensed up and prepared to slice off his
arm if need be, but for now the contact was relatively gentle.
Relatively meaning that soon after Michael was plunged into a
world of darkness. Pain, fear, anger, and confusion rushed into
his psyche, as we witnessed an upside down world where nothing
made sense, and the very air carried a sense of violence and
hatred. Michael was rushed by several nightmarish creatures,
their ever expanding jaws threatening to engulf him in a sea of
teeth. Michael's gauntlets revved up and a flurry of blades,
chains, hammers and axes dispatched of the monsters. But Michael
was battered and bruised at the end of the encounter. Never
before had he fought such ferocious foes, and all at once. One
arm was certainly broken, and one of his gauntlets was
threatening to meltdown. A new batch of monsters appeared around
a gradually shifting boulder. They had heard the commotion and
smelled Michael's weakness.
Michael knew that he had to take flight, and his boots carried
him deftly over the planet's surface, the hounds of hell swiftly
at his feet. One lashed out and left a dark red gash in
Michael's back. He bit back the pain and sped up. Suddenly, part
of the ground gave way, and Michael plummeted into an abyss. The
last sight he saw was the outsider looking down on him. This was
his world, and Michael did not belong.
~
Michael woke up with a fright, and sweat would have been pouring
down his face if not for the grafted mask. Looking around
frantically, he found that he was in the same demolished and
charred building as before he went under. A rather lovely sight
compared to where had just been. The alien could be seen in
distance, watching several soldiers claw at their burning faces.
Michael then turned his attention to his own body, which
mercifully had been left intact. His gauntlets even read normal.
So it was all a dream? or.. something? Michael vaguely recalled
the encounter that led up to the flush into black. Flashes of a
hand, and an alien symbol embedded into flesh. Michael staggered
to his feet, and almost fell over except, his hand caught on an
invisible wall. Confused, Michael ran his hand across the space
in front of him, giving him the impression of a dome around him.
After that brief mime performance, Michael placed his arms to
the side of the domes and vented his gauntlets, dispelling the
dome of air.
Michael quietly analyzed the situation as he approached the
alien from behind. The zoom of his bionic eye allowed him to
observe the three snipers in great detail. He even recognized
one of them by name due to previous exploits in Russia. Romanov
was a tool and lacked conviction. Michael wasn't quite impressed
with his deployment here either. Quite conspicuous of placements
to the untrained eye really. Which made it impressive that the
alien didn't seem to need Michael to point them out for him.
Michael steadily and calmly lowered to a crouch, in hopes of not
sparking a premature pull of their triggers. His palms went face
down on the concrete, and nanites discreetly infected the ground
below them. Michael's eyes glared in the direction of the
snipers, waiting for the right moment, or at least hoping that
he'd know what the right moment was, as dazed as he was from the
nightmare moments before.
In a corner near the outsider, a toy sized sculpt of a two men
rose from the ground, and a wall rose in front of them. Michael
hoped the alien would understand the gesture.
#Post#: 355074--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Dying World and Beyond
By: Demonreach Date: December 10, 2013, 1:08 am
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In fact, the unnamed assailant was a bit surprised at the mans
quick recovery, possibly holding on to the panic. It was odd,
that someone would want to repress an emotion of any sort. But
the alien's attitude towards such things were rather biased and
he had ceased that line of thought. He wasn't a simple creature
and understood the complexities of another creatures habits. He
had tracked his monster for days, trying to figure out something
to their pattern, but it all made little sense. As if they were
driven by something distracted. Or there simply was no pattern,
which he didn't think that was the case. Shaking his head
slightly to rid himself of these thoughts, he felt the earth
around him move and frowned, turning towards the man.
He was crouched, metal-wrapped hands holding the earth. From the
outsider's peripheral's, he could see the two 'men' that were
being formed from the earth by the smaller metal pieces. While
he couldn't see them, he could feel the disturbances they caused
in the air and in the earth. Which was mostly how he sensed
anything, really. He could see perfectly, but coming to this
world with its bright and vibrant colors, he had closed the
first three layers of eyelids that helped shade the eyes and
prevent any dust or various other debris to fall into them and
upset them.
Noticing the formation of a wall as he turned back around, he
smiled slightly. The danger wasn't much of a problem, he
thought, if they were too cowardly to come out for themselves.
At least the others were brave enough to face him. Shaking his
head, making an awkward tsking noise as he bade the new ally to
his feet. He was growing tired of this stand-off and would be
leaving, as he had better things to do. While he was thankful
for the mans help, he didn't want the extra body. Especially
when its an unknown. He waved a bit over his shoulder as he
walking away.
He heard it before he felt it.
A boomstick.
He felt the projectile hit his lower back and right calf, though
the latter was more of a graze.
[center]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~[/center]
Romanov hadn't expected Michael to react quite so hastily, which
was why the man was still standing. The agent hadn't bothered to
give the clear to fire, as he wasn't their main target. He
focused back on the odd man.
The unknown creature was so comfortable, standing there. It made
his stomach knot up with hate.
How could something so casually make itself comfortable in
Russia? Especially after done so much to fuck it up? He shook
his head, which was right about the time the man moved.
He heard his comrades curse and looked through his scope,
watching as he turned away from Michael and started to talk.
"Fire." He ordered.
As soon as the word died on his lips, he squeezed the trigger.
He heard two more gunshots barely seconds away from his.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His eyes picked out the directions of the sounds, noticing the
curls of smoke in the air; though barely and even as he saw
them, they dissipated altogether.
All three objects had passed through his body, which he had
pushed the blood away from almost immediately using soft
currents of air and water to help as wall. He didn't want to
pass out from the loss of the pale-red liquid, especially when
there was danger about.
Having memorized where the boomsticks had originated, he pulled
gravity away from himself until he was hovering about two foot
off the ground. He focused on the gravity of the three buildings
and increased said gravity by pulling the gravity from fifty
yards around it. The buildings, having been close to the blown
up one, had suffered from said explosion and the explosion of
the helicopter, were already pretty shaky and the increased
pressure pushed the weakened metal until it broke and the
buildings came tumbling down, slowly, inevitably. He stopped to
watch the resulting crash with a small measure of glee.
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