025.5
- Location
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This took far too long. And... still doing interlude. Le sigh.
Part 25
You Seal her. You're getting preeeeetty good at it, if you say so yourself (and you do, but, uh. Not out loud! Talking to yourself is bad, okay? Apparently, anyway).
As you move back from her, proud of your work, Pol flinches slightly - probably the effect of the instinctive understanding of her capabilities unfolding in her head like... like a tablecloth! She catches herself almost instantly - not even looking at you - and then reaches to the side, gripping at what seems to be thin air.
Then, while you watch proudly, ignoring Cleo's minor problems, Pol yanks a sword out of nothingness, slashes at the air with a speed and dexterity that rapidly improves as she does so, the air around her seeming to harden and shatter as her form reappears as... well.
Your new magical girl! Yaaay!
Pol pauses. Looks down at herself.
"Oh. My. Fucking. God." She keeps staring down at her boots, one hand reaching up to finger the brim of her new, wide, floppy hat. "I couldn't have a cool trenchcoat or something? Seriously? I looklike a total retard!" You're somewhat confused when she flushes suddenly and peeks at you. "I mean - no offense! There's nothing wrong with being - um - mentally - I'llgofightnowbye!"
... Humans are weeeeeird.
In a flash, she's bounding forwards, sword drawn, cap and hat-feather flowing behind her. You duck into the trees, not overly concerned now by Cleo's look of surprise as she spots her new reinforcement, nor the two helicopters circling overhead, one of them with a massive camera being pointed at the destruction.
Hmm. Probably a good time to... what's the word? Skedaddle! Skedaddlydaddle! Yes!
So that means you should go deal with the escaped beasties, uh-huh?
Avoiding the eyes in the sky, you slink backwards, through the trees and towards the exit of the park, heading for the gunshots. You won't be able to help, not without any MP, but at least you can point Wildstrike in the right direction when she-
1d100-10 → [91,-10] = (81). TREE-HIDER APPEARS!
You pause. Sniff the air. Look up.
There's a woman standing on one of the branches, watching you, not even bothering to hide when you look right at her.
Oh. She looks nice!
1d100 → [99] = (99). .... She has a 99 in Space mana. Enjoy.
And then she's suddenly riiiight in front of you, bent over, face an inch away from yours, smiling sweetly, and there's a horrible, odd throbbing in your stomach. And when you look down, you see there's a biiiig knife in her black-gloved hand, and that knife is currently sticking into you, grey droplets
seeping out from your new hole.
You look back at her and say, somewhat surprised, "Ow!"
Smiling wider, the woman twists the knife in you, and... wow. Wow, that really hurts. Stupid pain receptors. You tilt your head back, blinking up at her; she moves her head forwards, still smiling.
And then you headbutt stabby-bitch, because OW.
"Teth!" she shrieks, stumbling back, knife making a painful, sucking sensation as it's pulled out of you - you're already moving back, mourning your borrowed hoodie, and glad for everyone who ever reminded you that you have a thick skull. They even said it when you didn't have a skull! ... Huh.
Oh. You should probably, like. Run now. Or something. Because 'Teth' is an Imperial curse-word.
...
Runrunrunrunrunrunrun~~~!!!
You hurtle not towards Cleo and Pol, nor towards the outside of Hyde Park, where there seem to be fewer gunshots now, despite the increased number of sirens. Instead, you head deeper into the bushes and trees because - when you've got a stabby-woman who can move that well, it's always best to stick a few obstacles in the way.
Sometimes you kinda hate Space mana.
You zig over some kind of thorny bush, zag past a flowery one (pretty!) and spare a brief moment to make sure your hood's still up. From behind, you hear the rapid-fire crunching of fallen leaves and twigs beneath the woman's feet as she gives chase.
1d100+40 → [95,40] = (135) ... Enemy roll. SIGH.
1d100+10 → [16,10] = (26) ......... Your roll. :|
...
Um. Judging by the sudden pain in your sort-of-skull as you keep running, and the cracking sound that came with it, you currently have one of stabby-lady's knives stuck in the back of your head.
You should probably get better at dodging.
"Won't you come back?" stabby-lady calls, voice sad and warbling across the distance, and you try to hurry it up a little, despite already going at top speed. "Won't you stop and tell me where the lock is, little hivespawn? I promise it won't hurt~!"
Hmmm.
You think she might be lying. It's this niggly feeling you have. Or maybe that's the knife in your head.
It sounds like she's out of sight by now though, in all these trees, so you duck to the side, getting a thick tree-trunk between you and stabby-lady, attempting to reach behind and grab the knife out of your skull without knocking it against the tree.
Ew. You're leaking grey ick.
1d20+5 → [14,5] = (19)
Closing your eyes, you ready yourself and wince as you grip the hilt and tug the blade in one, sharp yank from your skull, somehow managing not to let even a whine of pain escape.
Okay. That huuuuurts, but at least it's out, right?
You open your eyes.
To meet stabby-lady's green ones.
"I can teleport," she whispers conversationally, as if sharing a secret.
Oh poo.
1d20+3 → [20,3] = (23) ... Okay, THAT was your roll.
"Y-" she starts to say. And then, tragically, before you can find out what 'Y-' was going to be, stabby-lady herself is experiencing pointy head pains, because she's falling to the side, an arrow sticking out of the other side of her head and a look of confusion on her face. Her mouth opens, so you kick her in it and start running again.
Ugh. This is so noooot one of Eito's better days. It's a good thing you don't have to worry about silly things like running out of breath, uh-huh!
But, um, you think you'll keep running rather than think about things like that. And maybe ignore the sound of falling, crashing trees and startled birds from where stabby-lady is.
And the explosions.
La la la~!
... Yup, gonna keep running.
HP: 21/30
WHAT THE FRIG IS EVEN GOING ON? WHAT DO?
[ ] Text Wildstrike again. Backup sure would be nice!
[ ] Text Yug-Nug. He counts as backup too! ... Even though he hasn't replied yet...
[ ] Head for Cleo and Pol!
[ ] Head for outside Hyde Park!
-[ ] (Details?)
[ ] Sneak back and see what's happening. That was a helpful arrow...
[ ] Eito, Seal thyself!
[ ] (Write in!)
Part 25
You Seal her. You're getting preeeeetty good at it, if you say so yourself (and you do, but, uh. Not out loud! Talking to yourself is bad, okay? Apparently, anyway).
As you move back from her, proud of your work, Pol flinches slightly - probably the effect of the instinctive understanding of her capabilities unfolding in her head like... like a tablecloth! She catches herself almost instantly - not even looking at you - and then reaches to the side, gripping at what seems to be thin air.
Then, while you watch proudly, ignoring Cleo's minor problems, Pol yanks a sword out of nothingness, slashes at the air with a speed and dexterity that rapidly improves as she does so, the air around her seeming to harden and shatter as her form reappears as... well.
Your new magical girl! Yaaay!
Pol pauses. Looks down at herself.
"Oh. My. Fucking. God." She keeps staring down at her boots, one hand reaching up to finger the brim of her new, wide, floppy hat. "I couldn't have a cool trenchcoat or something? Seriously? I looklike a total retard!" You're somewhat confused when she flushes suddenly and peeks at you. "I mean - no offense! There's nothing wrong with being - um - mentally - I'llgofightnowbye!"
... Humans are weeeeeird.
In a flash, she's bounding forwards, sword drawn, cap and hat-feather flowing behind her. You duck into the trees, not overly concerned now by Cleo's look of surprise as she spots her new reinforcement, nor the two helicopters circling overhead, one of them with a massive camera being pointed at the destruction.
Hmm. Probably a good time to... what's the word? Skedaddle! Skedaddlydaddle! Yes!
So that means you should go deal with the escaped beasties, uh-huh?
Avoiding the eyes in the sky, you slink backwards, through the trees and towards the exit of the park, heading for the gunshots. You won't be able to help, not without any MP, but at least you can point Wildstrike in the right direction when she-
1d100-10 → [91,-10] = (81). TREE-HIDER APPEARS!
You pause. Sniff the air. Look up.
There's a woman standing on one of the branches, watching you, not even bothering to hide when you look right at her.
Oh. She looks nice!
1d100 → [99] = (99). .... She has a 99 in Space mana. Enjoy.
And then she's suddenly riiiight in front of you, bent over, face an inch away from yours, smiling sweetly, and there's a horrible, odd throbbing in your stomach. And when you look down, you see there's a biiiig knife in her black-gloved hand, and that knife is currently sticking into you, grey droplets
seeping out from your new hole.
You look back at her and say, somewhat surprised, "Ow!"
Smiling wider, the woman twists the knife in you, and... wow. Wow, that really hurts. Stupid pain receptors. You tilt your head back, blinking up at her; she moves her head forwards, still smiling.
And then you headbutt stabby-bitch, because OW.
"Teth!" she shrieks, stumbling back, knife making a painful, sucking sensation as it's pulled out of you - you're already moving back, mourning your borrowed hoodie, and glad for everyone who ever reminded you that you have a thick skull. They even said it when you didn't have a skull! ... Huh.
Oh. You should probably, like. Run now. Or something. Because 'Teth' is an Imperial curse-word.
...
Runrunrunrunrunrunrun~~~!!!
You hurtle not towards Cleo and Pol, nor towards the outside of Hyde Park, where there seem to be fewer gunshots now, despite the increased number of sirens. Instead, you head deeper into the bushes and trees because - when you've got a stabby-woman who can move that well, it's always best to stick a few obstacles in the way.
Sometimes you kinda hate Space mana.
You zig over some kind of thorny bush, zag past a flowery one (pretty!) and spare a brief moment to make sure your hood's still up. From behind, you hear the rapid-fire crunching of fallen leaves and twigs beneath the woman's feet as she gives chase.
1d100+40 → [95,40] = (135) ... Enemy roll. SIGH.
1d100+10 → [16,10] = (26) ......... Your roll. :|
...
Um. Judging by the sudden pain in your sort-of-skull as you keep running, and the cracking sound that came with it, you currently have one of stabby-lady's knives stuck in the back of your head.
You should probably get better at dodging.
"Won't you come back?" stabby-lady calls, voice sad and warbling across the distance, and you try to hurry it up a little, despite already going at top speed. "Won't you stop and tell me where the lock is, little hivespawn? I promise it won't hurt~!"
Hmmm.
You think she might be lying. It's this niggly feeling you have. Or maybe that's the knife in your head.
It sounds like she's out of sight by now though, in all these trees, so you duck to the side, getting a thick tree-trunk between you and stabby-lady, attempting to reach behind and grab the knife out of your skull without knocking it against the tree.
Ew. You're leaking grey ick.
1d20+5 → [14,5] = (19)
Closing your eyes, you ready yourself and wince as you grip the hilt and tug the blade in one, sharp yank from your skull, somehow managing not to let even a whine of pain escape.
Okay. That huuuuurts, but at least it's out, right?
You open your eyes.
To meet stabby-lady's green ones.
"I can teleport," she whispers conversationally, as if sharing a secret.
Oh poo.
1d20+3 → [20,3] = (23) ... Okay, THAT was your roll.
"Y-" she starts to say. And then, tragically, before you can find out what 'Y-' was going to be, stabby-lady herself is experiencing pointy head pains, because she's falling to the side, an arrow sticking out of the other side of her head and a look of confusion on her face. Her mouth opens, so you kick her in it and start running again.
Ugh. This is so noooot one of Eito's better days. It's a good thing you don't have to worry about silly things like running out of breath, uh-huh!
But, um, you think you'll keep running rather than think about things like that. And maybe ignore the sound of falling, crashing trees and startled birds from where stabby-lady is.
And the explosions.
La la la~!
... Yup, gonna keep running.
HP: 21/30
WHAT THE FRIG IS EVEN GOING ON? WHAT DO?
[ ] Text Wildstrike again. Backup sure would be nice!
[ ] Text Yug-Nug. He counts as backup too! ... Even though he hasn't replied yet...
[ ] Head for Cleo and Pol!
[ ] Head for outside Hyde Park!
-[ ] (Details?)
[ ] Sneak back and see what's happening. That was a helpful arrow...
[ ] Eito, Seal thyself!
[ ] (Write in!)
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