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Highfort
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Founded: May 11, 2014
New York Times Democracy

Postby Highfort » Sun May 03, 2020 10:15 pm

Stray gunshots rang out as sergeants barked out orders to continue holding fire; a handful of their own were being sucked into the thick, emerging layers of grass that emanated from the "boy". The last thing they needed was for stray rounds to end up doing the monster's job for them.

As soon as the boy had made his point clear, Jim's face scrunched into a hard grimace and he pulled his knife, "Alpha - head to town to get help! Bring the mechs! Bravo, Bradypus, Morsicant - on-point with the Agency folks, cut our boys and girls out! No guns, last thing we need is anyone getting shot! Charlie, Delta - I need you on fire-starting duty!"

The troopers of the SCM moved as fish in water, their years spent colonizing Slate's unforgiving surface and training as units showing in their work. Before anyone could react, two trucks kicked up dirt and dust as they pulled away toward Morsicant. Three full squads, accompanied by their Captain, waded into the weeds, joining Dar, the Barber, and Doc Sawbones in the (seemingly-futile) task of cutting their comrades free.

Only Charlie and Delta seemed to fumble, moving into position with a heavy slowness and disorientation as they muttered among themselves about who would do what.

Gordon slung his AKM and quickly moved to assist the faltering teams. They were down several soldiers and seemed off-kilter without their sergeants there to lead them. He projected out more muted sounds to them, toning down the yelling and bringing up the more calming ambient tones of the forest. They seemed to visibly relax, though they paused in confusion as he forced himself into the center of the group.

"Who's in charge here? What's the situation? Who has fire-starting materials?" he turned to each of them, meeting only blank faces, "We need to get a move-on, quickly. I know some of your friends are in there, but we can't get them out without your help. Who's most senior? Who has the most fire-starting experience?"

An older woman spoke up from within the group, "Jeannette, I'm XO for Charlie; Bill over there is XO for Delta. We've dealt with hostile plant life before, nothing like this, though."

At her words, Bill seemed to find his courage, "Usually they don't talk, and they're averse to fire, like most animals."

"We're not even sure the boy is plant life, it may just seem that way," Gordon replied, "Nevertheless, burning away the grass that's trapping people will be necessary; I don't think we can cut it all away."

The group seemed to come to life at this, now in somewhat-familiar territory. Troopers knelt down to examine their packs and pulled out relevant materials.

"We'll need to approach from multiple vectors to avoid getting swatted away; I want fire bundles from everyone; no gasoline, we don't want this getting out of control," Bill barked, pulling a small leather cloth from his pack along with some cordage, "There should be dry tinder nearby, it doesn't rain here often. Collect as much as you can; Martin, Skoll - get sticks and chop some firewood so we can get a big one going. Anyone who has flint or lighters, I want you front-and-center after we have some tinder. We'll light bundles after we have a solid fire."

"We'll want a controlled burn, since we have friendlies in the grass; get the hoses from the truck and check if the irrigation main still works," Jeannette directed several troopers, pulling a first aid kit from her pack and stacking it with some of the others, "Let's set up a triage center for when we fish people out. Shinji, Kwame, let's pull over the shooting tables and get them ready to receive patients."

"I'll help you; I can help alleviate some of the pain they're feeling," Gordon moved opposite Shinji and helped drag over a table, "It's a... specialty of mine - no drugs necessary, either."

The trio gave him a doubtful look, the two medics deferring to their XO, and she shrugged, "Fine by me, but if someone else needs you, you listen."

"Of course, ma'am."
Last edited by Highfort on Sun May 03, 2020 10:39 pm, edited 1 time in total.
First as tragedy, then as farce

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Holy Lykos
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Ex-Nation

Postby Holy Lykos » Fri May 08, 2020 5:53 am

Once Jormungand noticed the grass coiling his leg, it was a bit too late to extricate himself. With a single motion, Jor quickdrew his weapon and emptied the chambers into the creature's center of mass, unlikely to much effect. With the barrel of his revolver still smoking, he flipped open the cylinder and emptied the remaining casings, reaching to reload. But he got no such chance as, much like Brit and some of the militia, the grass around his ankles suddenly yanked at the hybrid and sent him careening through the air.

"Whoa!" He shouted as he went tail over ears a few times, before landing heavily on the table, near where Dar had been moments before.Nothing broken, but winded heavily, the night stalker laid there to catch his breath with tail on the ground. "Ah, guns," he took a wheezing inhale, "do not work..."

And though that plainly obvious observation was certainly useful, Jor didn't get another word. The grass had him again, pulling him by his tail and eliciting a yowl of pain as it tried enveloping him like the others. The hybrid tore at the grass in panic, great handfuls of the stuff. "Not much of a warning if'n you're trying to kill us right now, y'know!"
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Giovenith
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Left-wing Utopia

Postby Giovenith » Fri May 08, 2020 8:55 pm

The various attempts to cut away the grass proved to have largely temporary relief. The grass fell away as easily as grass could, but was replaced just as soon as it was cut, wrapping and wrapping around all it came in contact with.

The boy, or whatever it is, seemed to glide just out of reach. He observed the chaos unfold, unblinking, and without comment. Occasionally, he cracked his neck in order to direct the grass, apparently willing it to grab at that limb or knock this tool aside, making the experience difficult and threatening but not deadly, yet. It attempted to snatch at the handles of the Barber's scythes to pry them away, same with Jesse's knife. They lashed nastily at Jor, then pooled beneath the table to lift it into the air an attempt to shake him off.

It had a difficult time keeping up with Seamus, clearly not experienced in the art of leprechaun trickery. Dar noticed this in her struggle and had an idea.

"Seamus!" she called out to the little green man. "Try teleporting these people out of the grass!" She gestured towards the soldiers she was trying to free with her knife, constantly slashing away to keep some skin of theirs exposed so they wouldn't be completely lost.

Her alarm was increased as she caught site of something else — Brit, who had fallen down and seemed to have stopped fighting, was notably starting to be dragged away by the grass towards the emptiness of the valley!
❃she's ripping wings off of butterflies❃

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Highfort
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New York Times Democracy

Postby Highfort » Sat May 16, 2020 11:51 am

Morsicant - Angus and Sons' Garage

"You ever think about putting a cola dispenser in this thing?" a dark-skinned, husky-built man of late-middle age wiped his brow with his sleeve, careful to avoid the grease stains that had built up on his cuffs, and admired his handiwork, "Beautiful piece of work - if I owned one of these I'd sit in her all day. You know, set up her charging dock by the porch and stream the sports telecasts after dinner."

"You know how it is, don't get high on your own supply," Max replied, dropping a fresh six-pack of Terra Blonde on the husky man's workbench, the condensation still present from its long journey in a freighter cryohold, "Haven't drank since Dad got clean, not about to start now."

"That's why I said cola - unless you're afraid of diabetes now," the man chuckled, cracking one of the beers, "Alright man, it's on the house. Angus'll kill me when he squares receipts later, but it ain't much work maintaining Hino's - Japanese know their stuff. Take her for a quick spin and check the servos, make sure they're all calibrated."

Before the bartender had a chance to get in the pilot's seat, a Tacoma swung out wide across the town square, kicking up dust in its wake. Several annoyed shouts and grunts punctuated the sight, breaking the peace of a Sunday morning. Another followed behind it, the duo zipping past the tavern and general store before swinging to a stop in front of the garage. Alpha's captain jumped from one of the truck beds, his face worried and a cold sweat broken out across his forehead.

"Scramble the mechs! We got hostiles out by Chekhov's!"



Chekhov's Field

Thirty men and women grunted and slashed as they found themselves knocked away or, worse, dragged toward the sea of angry grass and tangled foliage. Their knives found purchase in the green hell, but for every tendril of pasture they cut into it seemed there were two more rapidly sprouting to take its place. Jim found himself in the thick of it, one of the grass clusters nearly ripping off his head as he cut his way toward Brit. Barely missing, it grazed the side of his forehead and sent his cap flying.

He called out to the curled-up, silent woman, continuing to slash away as the grass threatened to lift and throw him back toward the trucks, "God-damn it, lieutenant, get up! GET UP!"

Bill frantically blew into the small ember he'd struck with a bit of flint and steel, the small bundle of dry moss and grass igniting into a flame that he promptly dropped onto the growing pile of wood Charlie and Delta team had assembled. Several troopers stood at the ready, small leather fire-bundles cradled in their arms and ready to take a flame.

"Everybody up, time to tango!" Bill seemed almost gleeful as his and Jeannette's squads approached and lit their bundles, "Kevin, how's that main looking?"

"Functional, sir!" the trooper called out, several others joining him in rolling out yards of industrial hoses toward the field, "Just let us know when!"

Jeannette joined the troopers lighting fires, her own hands occupied with a pair of campfire tongs for grabbing larger embers, "Alright, Charlie squad! Everybody with a bundle or a log, on me! We'll bear wide left and start a burn away from friendlies!"

Bill nodded, "Algernon, you have Delta! Bring 'em out front and try burning the grass that's grabbing folks! I'll keep the fire going; anybody gets free, you drag 'em back to triage! Now go!"

Charlie squad fanned out, trying to keep clear of the grass. As soon as they were able to get behind the mass of green, they started tossing their bundles and logs toward the grass. Some of it was too wet and smothered the flames, but the thinner, smaller tendrils came alight. As soon as they let their bundles loose, they ran back to the bonfire to collect more.

Delta waded into the grass where Jormungand, Seamus, Brit, and the others were mired. Bundles were lowered toward the grass rather than thrown, the troopers trying to avoid catching fire to anyone's clothes or, worse, their flesh. They met with more limited success, not chucking any burning logs, though two of them managed to drag a trooper from Bradypus squad free.

Shinji and Kwame got to work examining the man, a portly older fellow who was writhing in pain. Gordon tried to ease him and keep the medics calm, projecting a bubble of quiet over the trio to blot out the din of battle. The duo pulled off his shirt and pants as the Delta troopers eased him onto one of the tables, two medkits open and at the ready.
First as tragedy, then as farce

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Monfrox
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Father Knows Best State

Postby Monfrox » Sun May 17, 2020 12:35 am

Brit hadn't sufficiently calmed down while she pretended to be dead before it was apparent that it wasn't working. One of the long grass blades wrapped around her ankle had started to pull her off. Dirt and dust kicked up and the back of her shirt was coming up from friction. She reached out, scrambling for something to grab as she was yanked along to God knows where. Jim yelled at her from across the way but she was panicking, however even though she didn't hear him, she had heard the tone of his voice. Things started clicking back into place in her brain and the saving grace was brought to the forefront. Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast. Grab that KA-BAR off your belt.

Brit reached down slowly to the leather sheath and pulled the 7-inch long knife out, holding it in one hand as she pulled her leg up to her stomach. And then, with the stainless steel edge, she sliced the grass holding her ankle. Well they didn't like that, and as soon as she stopped she found herself being whipped over and over as other blades tried to grab on. Slowly, but deliberately, she hacked at them as fast as she would allow herself. Everything else went blank. Her whole world was her personal space. She changed hands when her arms got pinned and always made sure at least one of them was free. Before long she was able to stand and started to run back towards the group. She quickly snatched up her still gleaming nickeled gun and picked her way through the brush.

"Shit...sound off!" Brit yelled, wiping her face and smearing it with blood from gashes on her hands and face.
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Sylvanstreak
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Left-wing Utopia

Postby Sylvanstreak » Thu May 21, 2020 8:01 am

The Barber turned this way and that to avoid the grass. One of the scythes had been snatched off the android's back, but the long blade fell apart into a stream of silvery metal and flowed across the grass in Seamus' direction. As soon as it was close enough for the leprechaun to grab, the stream reformed into a large mug.

There wasn't much time for the android to react. Brit had already managed to free herself by the time it saw her being pulled toward the edge of the valley, and so it moved toward the trapped militia. They might have wanted a less intimidating savior, possibly, as scythe blades whirred within inches of fabric and skin. But they were free of the grass long enough to get out, and so they did. The scene was still so very chaotic, newly freed troopers running this way and that out of the field and forming up on the bonfire.

It dashed toward Jor and Jesse instead, cutting down the grass around the nightstalker, then handing over the scythe.

"Do you think we can reach the kid?" the Barber questioned.
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Holy Lykos
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Ex-Nation

Postby Holy Lykos » Fri May 22, 2020 4:06 pm

Jor continued clawing at the grass, catching as much of his own fur as he did the blades trying to grab and encase him. He was damn glad he'd landed on the table. The shaking was tolerable, especially with his tail was coiled around the leg of the table under him. That is, it was tolerable until the grass coiled and surged upwards, tossing the hybrid up into the air once more. Such was the luck of the hybrid with these plant creatures attacking, it seemed.

"Aw hell! Lookout!"

He rolled this time, at least, ending up on his feet and with his pieces intact. The grass immediately went back on the attack, pulling at his legs and tail once more. He struggled, trying to wade his way out of the seething mass with little effect. He pulled at his legs, only to find it cut away by the deft actions of the Barber.

The nightstalker was more than a bit surprised by the turn, and certainly the scythe was better suited than claws for cutting the grass, so the night stalker accepted the weapon and frowned. He gave the bladed weapon a few swings, a bit awkwardly; he'd never used such an instrument before. It was odd, though well balanced, he really had no idea what to do other than swing and not hit himself. Guess it'd have to do, but he'd much rather have a machete or knife of some kind.

"Well we better try, at the very least. Can't leave someone for dead against a critter like this." Jor nodded towards the Barber, cutting down the grass reaching for the pair of them. "Though we better hurry. That fire's gonna only get closer, and I ain't very good with this scythe. You take the lead and I'll keep an eye on keeping our path as clear as possible behind us."
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Giovenith
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Left-wing Utopia

Postby Giovenith » Fri May 29, 2020 3:18 pm

Snap!

The boy's head lurched towards the first spark of the flame, drawn as instantaneously as gravity. Although he was hardly human looking before, he became even less so as his expression twisted and elongate into a chasm of a mouth that let loose an ear splitting screech. Dar had no choice but temporarily stopped cutting to cover her ears tightly.

And then, in a swoosh of breeze, the boy was gone, and the grass stopped moving. It was still tied around them, still a mess to cut themselves out of, but it was no longer actively trying to strangle them. Just regular, freakishly long grass that was starting to burn.
❃she's ripping wings off of butterflies❃

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Monfrox
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Father Knows Best State

Postby Monfrox » Thu Jun 04, 2020 11:39 pm

Brit held her ears, or would have if not for the fact that she still had the Peltors on her head. Still, the screech was loud and she winced a little before coming over. It was all over in a flash, and with that they had located a possible weakness to their new enemy. If there was one thing she knew for sure, it was time to start doing some digging and asking around. This wasn't a chance happening. They had been targeted, and that meant they had enemies. Great, already out of the frying pan and into the fire. She'd have to take a meeting and get roles set up for everyone to operate in, already lamenting the fact that she may be the only truly qualified combat operative of the group. Gauging the others combat prowess would be on her to-do list in order to form a good basis for who would be sent out should things get heated. She really didn't want to do it all on her own. She'd string herself out way too fast at that rate, and that wouldn't be good for anyone.

"Jim!" She called, pulling her Peltors off and hanging them around her neck. "You- ...you uh...you know what to do, nevermind. You got a handle on things. Uh...let's get a headcount and a once over of everyone for wound treatment and then we'll pack up. Gonna need a rain check on the training session. Oh yeah uh...you wouldn't have a line on any nuclear cores by chance, would you?"
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Xing wrote:Yeah but you also are the best at roleplay. (yay Space Core references) I'm pretty sure a four man tank crew is no problem for someone that had 27 different RP characters going at one time.

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Talchyon
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Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Talchyon » Sat Jun 06, 2020 5:03 am

The field
Seamus


Giovenith wrote:The various attempts to cut away the grass proved to have largely temporary relief. The grass fell away as easily as grass could, but was replaced just as soon as it was cut, wrapping and wrapping around all it came in contact with.

The boy, or whatever it is, seemed to glide just out of reach. He observed the chaos unfold, unblinking, and without comment. Occasionally, he cracked his neck in order to direct the grass, apparently willing it to grab at that limb or knock this tool aside, making the experience difficult and threatening but not deadly, yet. It attempted to snatch at the handles of the Barber's scythes to pry them away, same with Jesse's knife. They lashed nastily at Jor, then pooled beneath the table to lift it into the air an attempt to shake him off.

It had a difficult time keeping up with Seamus, clearly not experienced in the art of leprechaun trickery. Dar noticed this in her struggle and had an idea.

"Seamus!" she called out to the little green man. "Try teleporting these people out of the grass!" She gestured towards the soldiers she was trying to free with her knife, constantly slashing away to keep some skin of theirs exposed so they wouldn't be completely lost.


The little leprechaun was having a fun time, teleporting around and visibly annoying the magic lad, whose long grass couldn't capture him. The more he tried, the more Seamus darted away, taunting the charred-black lad. "So, ya can't catch me, eh? Mebbe ya shud trah harder!"

But when he heard Dar's suggestion, Seamus realized it would probably be more helpful to everyone else if he were to rescue those being pulled underground. So, zapping his way here and there, silently cursing his reduced teleportation ability in this world, Seamus made his way over to the soldiers and did as Dar had suggested. Grabbing several and then teleporting them out some feet away, Seamus repeated the efforts. It did prevent them from being dragged under, those he could grab anyway, but as expected, the grass began to make a reconcerted effort and began picking up where it had left off. Still, what he could do was better than nothing.

When the fire started, and the black skinned lad howled at what was happening, he disappeared! It was more proof where proof wasn't needed. The lad was magical, as magical as he was. Still, it was nice to know he didn't like fire. One thing they could try.

Sadly, a blaze was now beginning to take over. Seamus looked, and wondered if there might be any naiads in this world who had control over water. Not expecting to find one, and not seeing any in the near vicinity, Seamus did his best to try to stamp out the flames that were spreading. Thankfully, the grass was still somewhat wet from the morning's dew, so it wasn't going to be a wildfire. He called out, "Gener'ly, Ah'm not fond o' flame. Could use several lads to help stamp i' out!"




Dr. Jesse Turnbull (aka 'Doc Sawbones')

The flames had done what knives had proven futile. Now that the strange being that had no heartbeat or brain waves was gone, the grass had gone back to normal - well, as normal as it could. Patches of this field now looked like either someone had used the best lawn fertilizer ever concocted, or that mowing was going to be a bitch. With Jesse's general outlook on life, he was leaning toward the latter.

The fact that the entity hated fire was useful knowledge. Jesse, however, had barely little time to store that in his memory when it became evident that his medical skills were needed immediately.

He walked over to Brit and the commanding officer, and began taking charge of setting up the medical examinations. "We need people - healthy enough to walk - who can report where the wounded are. I have an emergency kit, imagine others do too. Transportation for the seriously injured back to the hospitals. We got a medlab at our base that can be used as well." Then, as Jim wearily nodded and started giving commands over his radio, Jesse got to work, enlisting the healthy, treating the wounded, being a doctor at a time when a doctor was needed.
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Sylvanstreak
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Left-wing Utopia

Postby Sylvanstreak » Sun Jun 07, 2020 6:08 pm

The android took back the scythe and began slashing its way through the grass, cutting a path out of the field and toward the bonfire for Jor and some militia members who were following them. Then it wandered up and down, cutting neat lanes as fire-breaks to keep the worst of it away from the shooting range area - a rough set of semicircles opening back toward the benches and targets.

It turned this way and that, watching to see if the mysterious boy rode the wind back to interrupt them some more. Seeing nothing, the scythes disappeared back into the robot's body.

It increased the priority on conferring with Gordon. Having a meeting place in the port might be more useful now, besides their base in town.
Social ecology in a nutshell = Take care of yourself and the environment both; taking care of each other flows naturally from that.
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Highfort
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New York Times Democracy

Postby Highfort » Mon Jun 08, 2020 2:07 am

Just as soon as the boy had shown himself and made a mess of the Field, he was gone.

It was gone, Jim reminded himself. The strange creature may have rendered itself as a boy, but little boys didn't go around strangling settlers with plant life. He surveyed the aftermath with a sigh, nodding at Brit, Jesse, and Seamus's suggestions, and quickly bark orders for Delta and Charlie to start dragging folks to the triage station. Bravo, Bradypus, and Morsicant were put on firefighting duty, dragging out long hoses and throwing open the irrigation main to get the growing brush fire under control. When everyone was finished, they were to assemble by the vehicles for check-in and debrief, to make sure nobody got lost or thrown wide during the fighting.

"What a God-damned mess," the Captain grunted, sheathing his knife and taking a moment to light a cigarette as he surveyed the surroundings. He replied to Brit's question, somewhat befuddled and annoyed, "Nuclear cores?! We just nearly died and now the town's gonna be in a ruckus about plant-boy running around trying to kill settlers. I got a lot to sort out right now. And given that I just got laid off from Bradypus due to 'downsizing', what makes you think I've got power cells just laying around?"

Shinji and Kwame were relieved to find that the boy hadn't done anything besides the obvious to their compatriot - at least, nothing they could detect. Besides some pretty rough friction burns and bruising from the constrictive grass, he appeared to be okay. The portly man turned to the side of the table and vomited his breakfast onto the grass, Kwame offering him a drink of water from his canteen. He was dazed, and probably wouldn't sleep well for a few days, but he was alive.

Gordon sighed in relief - at the very least, their first outing with the Colonials wasn't going to end with a funeral. As he lifted his influence on the trio at the triage station, he gave the rest of the tables a wide berth so the other medics would be able to work their magic. For now, the bureaucrat had more pressing concerns.

As the fires were stamped and washed away, he whistled to the Gesellschaft team to huddle around him for a debrief.

"Alright folks," he gave everyone time to assemble before starting, "Just making sure everybody's okay. We'll have a more formal debrief back at base, but for now if anyone needs serious medical attention or if anyone's missing we need to prioritize that first."

Before he could start roll call, a thundering clash of metal on earth and the revving of familiar Hino and Daimler diesel engines filled the air.

The cavalry had arrived.

A little ways behind the pickups that had left for town, six bipedal mechs roared into the abandoned agricultural zone at full speed. Their metal legs stretched as far as their creaking frames would allow, allowing them to almost skip across the earth as their arms and shoulders - heavy with weaponry and more utility-oriented payloads - shook and groaned.

As the mechs skidded to a stop in front of the parking area, one continued its lengthy stride before stopping in front of Gordon and the rest of the team.

"Well, well," the cabin's front panel lifted open to reveal the face of the local barkeep, a smile of relief playing across his face as he realized the battle was over, "What's all this, then? Got all of us out here about some plant boy or something?"
First as tragedy, then as farce

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Monfrox
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Father Knows Best State

Postby Monfrox » Tue Jun 09, 2020 1:14 am

Okay, so that wasn't going to work. Maybe Jim got his shorts in a bunch after almost losing someone, which was understandable. Brit chomped down on her sudden rising urge to snap back and instead of glaring at him, she took her voice down a tone and made her face blank. A short, deep breath helped calm the hotness under her collar as she wiped the dirt off her pistol, holding eye contact with the big, burly ex-miner. She couldn't snap at him. They needed him, and so she needed to show that the relationship wasn't going to be entirely one-sided. She didn't have any encouraging words about the use of the machine being also offered for them at the moment, but she quickly formulated her next phrases. Leadership wasn't just about leading in battle, but being an example and also getting people to follow you out of battle.

"Easy, Cap'n. I ain't asking you to go fetch me one right now and present it to me on a silver platter. We need it for our doc's heavy duty medical equipment. Since you're in charge of this outfit you got going on here, I figured you out of everyone else here would know where to find one. So where would such enterprising people as ourselves look? Or if you don't know, is there someone else we can go to?" She spoke calmly as she slipped the handgun back into the holster on her pistol belt, keeping her hands down around it to avoid crossing them over her chest and appearing troubled with the man.
Gama Best Horror/Thriller RP 2015 Sequel
I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith.
Xing wrote:Yeah but you also are the best at roleplay. (yay Space Core references) I'm pretty sure a four man tank crew is no problem for someone that had 27 different RP characters going at one time.

The Grey Wolf wrote:Froxy knows how to use a whip, I speak from experience.

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Holy Lykos
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Ex-Nation

Postby Holy Lykos » Fri Jun 12, 2020 12:32 pm

Jormungand, one moment fighting for his life as the grass increasingly engulfed his lower body, soon found that the desperate clawing was making headway. He wasn't sure why, but pressed on and soon freed one of his legs and kicked himself up to a standing position. The entire world had fallen away in the rush of adrenaline, and being back on both feet he rapidly looked around to see what'd happened.

Of course, this came moments before his ears were assaulted by a sound that was ear-splitting for humans. For him, it was beyond excruciating. The hybrid let out a yelp of pain, hands immediately clasping over both of his ears as he jumped and scrambled backwards away from the source. His ears were left ringing by the acoustic trauma, but at least the flight of the crass creature had left him able to escape with the sheer terror the sound had induced tore the grass around his ankle.

The night stalker stumbled to the overturned table and sat himself down, trying to catch his breath as he watched the large mechs approach and the militia work to clear the grass and free people who'd been caught. Jor swallowed, breathing heavy as pain was starting to flare up where he'd landed and where the grass had attempted to grab and crush him. And from his ears, now too. Looked like his claws had also cut up his legs and pants in places too in the panic...

"Ah, hey Doc?" Jor tried flagging down their medic, speaking a bit loud as his hearing hadn't re-adjusted yet, "I might need a bit of help here when you got the time.. That critter threw me around something fierce. Don't think anything's broken at least. Legs feel a bit wobbly or I'd offer to help you transport people and get me checked out later."
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Giovenith
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Left-wing Utopia

Postby Giovenith » Fri Jun 12, 2020 2:10 pm

Dar smiled and nodded in appreciation for the help from Seamus and the Barber. She immediately went to work herself, cutting a few remaining soldiers from the grass and helping them up on her shoulders. Nobody seemed to be seriously hurt, but she was keen on waiting around and finding out what else that little creature was capable of.

"I think all of this talk would be better had a hospital," said Dar, helping one of the soldiers settle near the vehicles. "We can load everyone up, get patched up, and talk together about what happened there."

One thing was for sure, this definitely put a dent in her plan with the squikums. First the bugs, now the grass child? It seemed like protecting these colonizers would take more than it seemed.
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Highfort
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Postby Highfort » Sun Jun 21, 2020 2:00 am

Jim puffed on his cigarette for a moment, his annoyance giving way to tiredness as he addressed Brit's question, "Only place that might have one is the shipyards - if you're lucky a passing freighter will sell ya one for a pretty penny. You might try asking Angus or one of his boys at the garage if they have a tip. The mechanics have a special relationship with the freighter crews, on account of fixing their maintenance mechs and ship systems and whatnot, so they'll have access to any incoming manifests and can tell ya if they have cores to spare."

He turned to the lieutenant, "Just so you know, corps frown on swiping from supply runs, so I didn't tell you this. And anyone who sells you a core didn't say anything to you."

Before she could say anything else, the Captain put out the stub and walked over to the newly-arrived trucks, directing teams to pack up supplies and overseeing the loading of the wounded. He had a hell of a report to file at the next town hall.

--

"Fair enough," Gordon replied to the survivalist and turned to the barkeep, "Sorry to bring you out here, Max; Dar's right, we should regroup in town where it's safe and sort out what we saw there."

"Right-o," Max nodded, "Y'all take off first, then. We'll follow up the rear in case the plant boy comes back; when we get into town, I'll meet you at the hospital and we can arrange an emergency meeting to tackle the issue. Best get everyone on high-alert and keep folks close to the domes and town while this is happening."
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Sylvanstreak
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Left-wing Utopia

Postby Sylvanstreak » Sun Jun 21, 2020 10:50 am

Post moved.
Last edited by Sylvanstreak on Thu Jun 25, 2020 10:30 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Social ecology in a nutshell = Take care of yourself and the environment both; taking care of each other flows naturally from that.
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Monfrox
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Father Knows Best State

Postby Monfrox » Thu Jun 25, 2020 1:11 am

Brit watched Jim walk off, a lump still lodged in her chest. When he was gone, she huffed a heavy sigh mixed with anxiety and frustration. It's not your fault. She told herself as she headed off to see everyone else. She wiped the sweat that ran down her face in an annoyed grunt, only to realize it was blood from all the cuts when she pulled her hand away.

"Oh...shit..."

The thought of stitches and whatnot came to her mind as it raced and made her a bit light-headed. But she got herself under control and pushed on. Head wounds bled a lot, naturally. She wasn't going to die just yet. She approached the group and did a quick headcount. Everyone was here and still able to walk and talk for the most part, which was good.

"Alright, let's pile in and get moving. Looks like training will have to happen some other time." She paused to wipe the blood from her eyes again. "Shit...does anyone have a band-aid? Or like...fifty?"
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Sylvanstreak
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Left-wing Utopia

Postby Sylvanstreak » Thu Jun 25, 2020 11:30 pm

The Barber remained silent, during the ride to the hospital. Max and his fellows in the mechs vanished into the distance as the team rode back into town. Sitting statuelike in the back of the truck, the only sign the android was still “on” was its scanning the others, or the landscape outside, from time to time. The field dressing the SCM medics had given Brit gave her a tougher image, in the android’s very limited fashion sense. As for Jor, well...

The non-emergency wing of the hospital had less sterile white and overhangs, and more open spaces and plants. Mostly ivies, wrapped around a series of thinnish pillars holding up a relatively light roof. A service robot, done up in light pink torso and pale pearl gray treads, whirred through, watering the vines and trimming off some of the larger leaves before moving off again. Closer to the entrance’s sliding doors, where the group now clustered, hanging pots of geraniums decorated each side of the hallway.

Despite being under the dome and indoors, the Barber could still make out the wailing of the town’s siren, normally meant for warnings of incoming cicadas. No doubt the siren was Max the bartender’s way of signaling everyone.

A second robot, all white with the classic red cross on the front, bustled out, scanning arm already sweeping over the group. It moved, not toward Jor or Brit, but Seamus.

“Right this way please,” it said, somehow managing to give off a feeling of enjoying its job despite a flat, mechanical voice. Even the Barber couldn’t refrain from giving a double take at this. The medical robot was clearly malfunctioning, but what was it doing? Did it think Seamus was suffering from malnutrition? Or was it expecting normal humans only? Both? Neither? How odd.
Social ecology in a nutshell = Take care of yourself and the environment both; taking care of each other flows naturally from that.
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Giovenith
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Left-wing Utopia

Postby Giovenith » Fri Jun 26, 2020 2:18 pm

Hospital

What little direction the Agency had gained that morning had evaporated in light of the attack. Dar, lucky enough to be physically unhurt, was nevertheless frustrated and terrified at the recent turn of events. Leave the colony, every last person? Would that even be possible? She could bring some people to the sanctuary and then back to where ever they needed to go, but not an entire colony's worth.

As the worst injured were shuffled off to hospital rooms, she stayed behind in the waiting room and paced, pulling at her hair and wiping her hands on her jeans in futile pondering. She was stopped when she felt a vibration in her pocket, and reached in to pull out a compact. It opened with a flick of a wrist, and a small crystal blossom grew out from it.

"Hello?" she asked it, holding it close.

"Hello?" a little boy's voice came from the crystal. "Dar, did you do it?"

She settled a little. It wasn't Ms. Zale. "Hey, Jamie. No, no things went... uh, things went bad."

A gasp. "Did you shoot someone?!"

"No," Dar rubbed the back of her head. "It's more complicated than that." She looked around at anyone else who was in the waiting room. "Listen, now's not a good time..."
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Monfrox
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Father Knows Best State

Postby Monfrox » Sun Jun 28, 2020 3:19 pm

"Ow...ow...ow...ow...OW FUCK!"

"This will go a lot faster if you stop moving."

"Don't you guys have anything for pai-OW! SHIT!"

"Nothing that isn't too strong for this. Now hold still. We're almost done here."

Brit groaned as the doctor put the needle back into her face again. It was the first time she had stitches and it would hopefully be the last. Most of the cuts needed only a few, bar a large gash down the side of her face. Her hands gripped hard on the hospital bed she was laying on as her eyes welled up with tears of pain. She clenched her teeth and tried to stay completely still as she felt the metal needle poking in and out and dragging the sutures with it.

"And...there. Done."

She visibly relaxed from the tension and sighed.

"What's the damages?"

"We'll bill you later since the militia brought you in."

"You guys well acquainted?"

"Tend to be when someone almost blows their nuts off during grenade practice."

"Thanks, doc."

Brit walked out of the emergency room after they rebandaged her face up so that she looked less like a mummy and grabbed a small flask out of her breast BDU pocket. A small swig was taken before it made its way back there. She walked down the hall to the waiting room where the others were waiting.

"Okay...I think once everyone's ready, we'll go debrief back at the HQ real quick and go from there." She touched the gauze on her face where the wounds were sore.



"We're here, Mr. Foster."

A door opened into the headquarters building. There were many doors, but most were never present until needed. A woman wearing a business casual style black suit walked in with the man known as Galen Foster. She was one of the more subtle employees of the Agency, with jet black hair in a neat ponytail and dull red eyes behind a pair of librarian's glasses that she minutely adjusted on the bridge of her nose. She looked around for a bit.

"It seems the team is out right now. Well, do take this opportunity to familiarize yourself with the dossier you were given regarding information on your current assignment and your teammates. I reiterate that last part: your teammates, Mr. Foster. People who will help you as you help them, so please try not to make trouble. The Agency would like to remind you that your contract and or assignment can be terminated at any point in time. Now, your room will be on the second floor near the end of the hall, room 2H. The first floor has many facilities to help accommodate us, but I'm sure you'll find everything you'll need in your room. They work like that, afterall. The rest of the team will arrive shortly, but I can answer any questions you may have now." She gave her spiel in a very matter-of-factly manner.
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Lancearc
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Founded: May 16, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Lancearc » Sun Jun 28, 2020 11:20 pm

Monfrox wrote:"We're here, Mr. Foster."

A door opened into the headquarters building. There were many doors, but most were never present until needed. A woman wearing a business casual style black suit walked in with the man known as Galen Foster. She was one of the more subtle employees of the Agency, with jet black hair in a neat ponytail and dull red eyes behind a pair of librarian's glasses that she minutely adjusted on the bridge of her nose. She looked around for a bit.

"It seems the team is out right now. Well, do take this opportunity to familiarize yourself with the dossier you were given regarding information on your current assignment and your teammates. I reiterate that last part: your teammates, Mr. Foster. People who will help you as you help them, so please try not to make trouble. The Agency would like to remind you that your contract and or assignment can be terminated at any point in time. Now, your room will be on the second floor near the end of the hall, room 2H. The first floor has many facilities to help accommodate us, but I'm sure you'll find everything you'll need in your room. They work like that, afterall. The rest of the team will arrive shortly, but I can answer any questions you may have now." She gave her spiel in a very matter-of-factly manner.


Galen followed his handler, lagging behind the woman as she led him down more alien hallways, which had slowly become familiar sights since his "recruitment" into The Agency. Their immediate surroundings were, as far as he could tell, dead outside of himself and the woman lecturing him just ahead. He couldn't help but crack a dry grin behind the smooth metallic mask that encapsulated almost the entirety of his head when she dedicated a part of her introduction to asking him to, pretty please, not raise any hell immediately after his arrival.

"Yeah, I got you," Galen responded curtly, his voice warped into the sound of cold iron raked across stone. He sauntered to catch up with his guide, hefting a tightly packed rucksack his new employers had provided over his left shoulder while keeping his right hand jammed into the similarly-standard-issue jacket he'd been graced with -- not his style, though he didn't routinely dress for interstellar babysitting assignments.

"So they're already out there making the world a better place and killing bugs, huh," the new arrival asked, noting the two main objectives he recalled from the information that had been provided. "Couldn't help but notice not much was said about how long we're gonna be here."

Galen gave a frustrated tug at the bottom edge of his mask instinctively, succeeding only in pulling at the skin the metal seemed to have become a part of. He'd come to expect nothing less than minimum info from his new friends at The Agency -- after all, he could barely recall how he'd been found, when he'd been taken, or where he'd been hauled off to originally -- but this was a very particular point of frustration. He didn't have any desire to get killed on this rock, and he wasn't getting any closer to finding out how to get the hunk of metal hugging his face off.

Still, Galen wasn't exactly itching to find out what they did with their washouts, so decided it best to bite his tongue. A nearly inaudible, but consistently present roar had been lingering in the back of his mind since their arrival on Slate, and had grown slightly louder since entering the base. It was a common occurrence since merging with the mask, but nothing drove him insane faster than being left alone with the eerie droning. It filled him with a dread that was hard to describe, one that often kept him awake at night and teetering on the brink of tearing his room apart in a whirlwind of rage and despair.

"Don't guess we got a gym, or some fucking alien iPhones? Wanted to keep myself busy or listen to some beats until they're back," Galen asked offhandedly. "Ya'll didn't really let me gather that type of shit before you brought me up here."
Last edited by Lancearc on Sun Jun 28, 2020 11:23 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Talchyon
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Founded: May 05, 2016
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Talchyon » Mon Jun 29, 2020 6:55 am

Before
Dr. Jesse Turnbull (aka 'Doc Sawbones')


Holy Lykos wrote:Jormungand, one moment fighting for his life as the grass increasingly engulfed his lower body, soon found that the desperate clawing was making headway. He wasn't sure why, but pressed on and soon freed one of his legs and kicked himself up to a standing position. The entire world had fallen away in the rush of adrenaline, and being back on both feet he rapidly looked around to see what'd happened.

Of course, this came moments before his ears were assaulted by a sound that was ear-splitting for humans. For him, it was beyond excruciating. The hybrid let out a yelp of pain, hands immediately clasping over both of his ears as he jumped and scrambled backwards away from the source. His ears were left ringing by the acoustic trauma, but at least the flight of the crass creature had left him able to escape with the sheer terror the sound had induced tore the grass around his ankle.

The night stalker stumbled to the overturned table and sat himself down, trying to catch his breath as he watched the large mechs approach and the militia work to clear the grass and free people who'd been caught. Jor swallowed, breathing heavy as pain was starting to flare up where he'd landed and where the grass had attempted to grab and crush him. And from his ears, now too. Looked like his claws had also cut up his legs and pants in places too in the panic...

"Ah, hey Doc?" Jor tried flagging down their medic, speaking a bit loud as his hearing hadn't re-adjusted yet, "I might need a bit of help here when you got the time.. That critter threw me around something fierce. Don't think anything's broken at least. Legs feel a bit wobbly or I'd offer to help you transport people and get me checked out later."


Monfrox wrote:Brit watched Jim walk off, a lump still lodged in her chest. When he was gone, she huffed a heavy sigh mixed with anxiety and frustration. It's not your fault. She told herself as she headed off to see everyone else. She wiped the sweat that ran down her face in an annoyed grunt, only to realize it was blood from all the cuts when she pulled her hand away.

"Oh...shit..."

The thought of stitches and whatnot came to her mind as it raced and made her a bit light-headed. But she got herself under control and pushed on. Head wounds bled a lot, naturally. She wasn't going to die just yet. She approached the group and did a quick headcount. Everyone was here and still able to walk and talk for the most part, which was good.

"Alright, let's pile in and get moving. Looks like training will have to happen some other time." She paused to wipe the blood from her eyes again. "Shit...does anyone have a band-aid? Or like...fifty?"


As the wounded were making their injuries known, Jesse was all business. Knowing how many were needed, he went to people that were the most obviously wounded. His robotic eye aided in the assessment. He knew what was needed, but he had only a field kit to work with. That wouldn't help the soldier with the punctured lung, or the one who tried to wriggle out of the grass and got scorch marks all over his legs. Jesse stopped the bleeding on the one and had to perform a field tracheotomy on the one with a pen casing. Then he applied burn cream liberally and aloe on the other. Every one had something to treat, and time wasn't on his side.

When Jor called out about his leg situation, Jesse nodded and made his way towards him. Scanning the night stalker with his robotic eye, Jesse said, "You pulled a few muscles. Also, your hearing was affected - that affects balance. They can treat you at the hospital when we get back."

To Brit, Jesse scowled and headed over to help stop the bleeding. He wasn't the first on the scene. One of the militia field medics had already come over and was treating her. Jesse made sure to thank the man before he tended to one of the numerous others...




The hospital

Upon arrival at the hospital, Jesse gave his credentials and volunteered his service. Gladly welcomed in by a weary looking corporal, Jesse got the layout of the hospital and asked where he might be most useful. He was sent on to a nurses' station, that had some archaic looking med-drones handling the information flow and treating some patients. There were also a few harried human nurses running here and there. Jesse fell right in and began to work.




The hospital
Seamus


Seamus had been frowning since the attack. The normally fidgety leprechaun had been lost in thought. To any passive observer, he might have looked angry, no doubt angry at the unexpected battle scene and the cost in health. But Seamus wasn't angry. He was trying to remember.

This wasn't the first magical being he had come across. Other than himself, that was. Not by far. It just had been a long time since he had met someone as powerful as the charred grass lad. Several decades ago, maybe a century or two. He remembered as young lad when he and his clan had encountered a Dullahan. That was a tough outing. How do you go about stayin' safe when there's a death being out there that can't be looked at? They had gotten away, somehow. But Seamus was trying to remember the specifics, and was failing.

Sylvanstreak wrote:The non-emergency wing of the hospital had less sterile white and overhangs, and more open spaces and plants. Mostly ivies, wrapped around a series of thinnish pillars holding up a relatively light roof. A service robot, done up in light pink torso and pale pearl gray treads, whirred through, watering the vines and trimming off some of the larger leaves before moving off again. Closer to the entrance’s sliding doors, where the group now clustered, hanging pots of geraniums decorated each side of the hallway.

Despite being under the dome and indoors, the Barber could still make out the wailing of the town’s siren, normally meant for warnings of incoming cicadas. No doubt the siren was Max the bartender’s way of signaling everyone.

A second robot, all white with the classic red cross on the front, bustled out, scanning arm already sweeping over the group. It moved, not toward Jor or Brit, but Seamus.

“Right this way please,” it said, somehow managing to give off a feeling of enjoying its job despite a flat, mechanical voice. Even the Barber couldn’t refrain from giving a double take at this. The medical robot was clearly malfunctioning, but what was it doing? Did it think Seamus was suffering from malnutrition? Or was it expecting normal humans only? Both? Neither? How odd.


Getting to the hospital, Seamus was startled to see a white cylindrical contraption with a red cross approach him. It spoke, but Seamus couldn't say how. Some voice from within the cylinder asked him to come along. Seamus' jaw dropped.

"Wha' in the blue blazes am Ah s'posed to come wit ya fohr?" The contraption didn't force a move. It just kept repeating itself in that same mysterious voice. "Right this way, please."

Seamus looked around at his group, trying to figure out if this was a prank of some kind. They didn't look like they were about to crack up in hysterics. Maybe they were good at playing a joke.

The white contraption repeated itself again, in the same voice as before. "Right this way, please." Seamus shrugged, and then just to shut the thing up, went along with it.

The contraption led Seamus through a maze of corridors, first a right, then two left, then another right, then around a curve, until he was hopelessly lost. All the while, it began to recite what seemed like the most useless conversation piece ever, about whether or not Seamus was aware that he had been informed that his medical information was private and wouldn't be released to anyone, whether he consented to treatment, that any lawsuits brought about for poor treatment may not be legitimate, answer yes or no, and other such trivialities. When Seamus tried to either ignore it or to start up a different conversation, the contraption repeated itself. Seamus, annoyed at the uselessness of this thing, said yes to everything... again, just to shut it up.

Finally the contraption led Seamus to a room. "Please be seated. Someone will come to see you right away." Seamus said, "But wha' if Ah don' WAHNT ta'sit?" He started fidgeting. The contraption repeated itself. "Shut yer stupid mouth!" But the contraption didn't listen. The voice inside it kept repeating. And repeating. Finally, Seamus howled out, "ALRIGHT, YA LUNKHEAD!" And sitting on the stool near a desk, Seamus glared at the thing bloody murder as it politely left the room and closed the door.

Jumping up from his seat, Seamus fidgeted around the room, picking odds and ends up and putting them down. One device on a wall had a black curly cord with a strap of some kind. He took the strap and walked as far as he could, but the cord wouldn't come out. Shrugging, Seamus dropped it, jumped up on the high couch, leaped over to the desk, jumped down, and stewed. Finally, after about a minute, he had had enough. He opened the door, saw the white cylindrical contraption with the red cross was nowhere to be seen, and took off the down the hall, trying to find his way back to his group.
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Icarus - A sci-fi story about people from all different timelines and backgrounds, rescued right after they had died, and now on missions to find out what happened, why, and to stop renegade time travelers from destroying the past.

Awake in Prefeton - A superhero story about school students discovering they have powers. Was more on character then on fights, but now there is the fight for the future and for freedom. Now in the final chapter.




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Giovenith
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Founded: Feb 08, 2012
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Giovenith » Sun Jul 05, 2020 9:57 pm

General Kilimanjaro Africanus arrived on the scene shortly after Galen Foster, the logistics of transporting the giant man having taken a bit more time to piece together. He'd been dropped off by a young man in similarly subtle, professional Agency wear, and told about the current situation on the way there.

"... so it sounds like all of your teammates are piecing themselves back together," he explained, turning the wheel in the car as he pulled up to the headquarters. "They should join you shortly. Unless you'd like me to take you there now? Not much you could do to help though, I imagine."
❃she's ripping wings off of butterflies❃

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Holy Lykos
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Founded: May 01, 2016
Ex-Nation

Postby Holy Lykos » Mon Jul 06, 2020 1:03 pm

Jormungand appreciated the guidance of the Doctor Turnbull. It'd been much easier to get in and out of of the hospital, a place Jor had never been entirely comfortable with. Every experience with medical personnel tended to involve a desire to learn about his biology. Not always in a very civil way. But luckily enough for the hybrid, the medical personnel had a bit of experience with inhuman biology so it was trivial for them to confirm Turnbull's diagnosis along with the additional notice of a few lacerations and cuts along his legs, both from the plants and his own claws and attempts to free himself. Since most of his injuries just needed time, the hospital staff discharged him quickly enough.

Now with a bit more bandaging and a walking stick to help with balance until his inner ears were naturally healed up over time, Jor had quietly ducked out of the hospital after making sure that Gordon at least knew he had gone back to the building. Jormungand was intent on getting some rest, checking in on his own projects, maybe cooking a bit of a meal.

Though, what he didn't expect was a car driving up to the building a bit before he arrived. The mechanic tipped his hat upwards, cobra-like face watching the car and wondering who was visiting, but giving a friendly wave either way.
Agender - They/Them pronouns
Pansexual Polyamorous
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