"It had been cold and dark in the oceanic depths.
I had been alone, abandoned, betrayed, and...
I had been alone, abandoned, betrayed, and...
Out of the Fog (Kantai Collection/???)
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TURN - Out of the Fog
"It had been cold and dark in the oceanic depths.
I had been alone, abandoned, betrayed, and left there.
Yet I know that once I found my way I wo-
I mean, found my prey... I...
Aww, fuckweasles!"
You broke off your soliloquy and dropped the emo act for the moment as you lost your groove. It wasn't as though the fog, nor the strangely calm waters which you were sailing through, actually cared how impressive that eerie reverb effect to your voice was.
No matter how many hours you had spent perfecting the darned thing.
You pouted.
You weren't really sure how long you had been skimming across the waves, trying to peer through fog thick enough that you if you stretched out an arm it was hard to see the black and crimson metal of your fingers. You just knew that it had been long enough that it was hard to remember that talking to yourself wasn't a good thing.
In fact you barely remembered much at all beyond the fact that you were an "Abyssal" and that that if you kept going long enough you would eventually find something beyond this endless grey. Amongst the few other things left was a vague sense of rage at something, the knowledge that at one point you been different. That you had lacked arms, legs, and other bits which defined your current shape.
You vaguely remembered having other things too. Not body parts, not really, but large and heavy things made of the same black metal as your hands which had weighed you down and made pressing ahead more of a burden. They had sort of been part of you, but somehow separate, and you'd sort of lost your temper at some point with them.
The memory of the dumb things sinking into the water when you cast them off was surprisingly vivid compared to everything else in your head so they probably had been important.
Right?
You still had a few of them, pushed into that place which wasn't physically there but still somehow just at hand, but you really couldn't be bothered to lug them around until you remembered the reason that you'd kept the stupid things. Not when you had more important things to do such as get your epic soliloquy finished.
At one point you'd had a three hundred lines in it! At least until you realised that you'd been forgetting the old ones, but still increasing the count. Having to start again sort of sucked.
"It had been cold and dark in the oceanic depths." You began again, letting the eldritch tone thrum through the words and quite coincidentally vibrate off the water from the fog which had condensed on your body. "I had been alone, abandoned, betrayed, and left beref-
You stopped, both in your words and in your forward progress, as you glimpsed something in the grey ahead. Just a vague lightness, but there was never anything different about the endless fog. An unfamiliar emotion sparked inside of you and you strained to put on some speed, the spray beginning to whip around you as you headed for this new thing, and your breath caught in your throat as the light continued to grow.
The fog was thinning, the waves around you were becoming rougher, and there was finally proof that your assumption that there was something beyond the fog was proving correct!
Above you the fog was continuing to lighten while ahead it grew darker. There was something, a large something, out there in the greyness and it was growing closer and closer as you put on the speed and...
Impact.
As you slowly picked yourself up, pushing yourself off of the surface of the water and ignoring the throbbing pain in your nose and chest, you stared at the large dark thing which was mere feet ahead of you now. Something that you had just rammed into at high speed and while you were injured the way that bits of it were cracked and crumbling, falling into the water, was a sign that it hadn't come off entirely unharmed.
Oww...
So you're a very lost Abyssal shipgirl with amnesia who just face planted into:
(Vote determines first world wandered into. No write-ins.)
[ ] A big black thing with a white mask.
[ ] A bridge support.
[ ] A partially sunken freighter.
[ ] A scale covered ankle.
I had been alone, abandoned, betrayed, and left there.
Yet I know that once I found my way I wo-
I mean, found my prey... I...
Aww, fuckweasles!"
You broke off your soliloquy and dropped the emo act for the moment as you lost your groove. It wasn't as though the fog, nor the strangely calm waters which you were sailing through, actually cared how impressive that eerie reverb effect to your voice was.
No matter how many hours you had spent perfecting the darned thing.
You pouted.
You weren't really sure how long you had been skimming across the waves, trying to peer through fog thick enough that you if you stretched out an arm it was hard to see the black and crimson metal of your fingers. You just knew that it had been long enough that it was hard to remember that talking to yourself wasn't a good thing.
In fact you barely remembered much at all beyond the fact that you were an "Abyssal" and that that if you kept going long enough you would eventually find something beyond this endless grey. Amongst the few other things left was a vague sense of rage at something, the knowledge that at one point you been different. That you had lacked arms, legs, and other bits which defined your current shape.
You vaguely remembered having other things too. Not body parts, not really, but large and heavy things made of the same black metal as your hands which had weighed you down and made pressing ahead more of a burden. They had sort of been part of you, but somehow separate, and you'd sort of lost your temper at some point with them.
The memory of the dumb things sinking into the water when you cast them off was surprisingly vivid compared to everything else in your head so they probably had been important.
Right?
You still had a few of them, pushed into that place which wasn't physically there but still somehow just at hand, but you really couldn't be bothered to lug them around until you remembered the reason that you'd kept the stupid things. Not when you had more important things to do such as get your epic soliloquy finished.
At one point you'd had a three hundred lines in it! At least until you realised that you'd been forgetting the old ones, but still increasing the count. Having to start again sort of sucked.
"It had been cold and dark in the oceanic depths." You began again, letting the eldritch tone thrum through the words and quite coincidentally vibrate off the water from the fog which had condensed on your body. "I had been alone, abandoned, betrayed, and left beref-
You stopped, both in your words and in your forward progress, as you glimpsed something in the grey ahead. Just a vague lightness, but there was never anything different about the endless fog. An unfamiliar emotion sparked inside of you and you strained to put on some speed, the spray beginning to whip around you as you headed for this new thing, and your breath caught in your throat as the light continued to grow.
The fog was thinning, the waves around you were becoming rougher, and there was finally proof that your assumption that there was something beyond the fog was proving correct!
Above you the fog was continuing to lighten while ahead it grew darker. There was something, a large something, out there in the greyness and it was growing closer and closer as you put on the speed and...
Impact.
As you slowly picked yourself up, pushing yourself off of the surface of the water and ignoring the throbbing pain in your nose and chest, you stared at the large dark thing which was mere feet ahead of you now. Something that you had just rammed into at high speed and while you were injured the way that bits of it were cracked and crumbling, falling into the water, was a sign that it hadn't come off entirely unharmed.
Oww...
oOo
Out of the Fog
A Kantai Collection Inspired Crossover Quest
Asilly totally serious and emo gothic-horror Quest.
Updates a day or two after enough votes appear.
oOo
Out of the Fog
A Kantai Collection Inspired Crossover Quest
A
Updates a day or two after enough votes appear.
oOo
So you're a very lost Abyssal shipgirl with amnesia who just face planted into:
(Vote determines first world wandered into. No write-ins.)
[ ] A big black thing with a white mask.
[ ] A bridge support.
[ ] A partially sunken freighter.
[ ] A scale covered ankle.
INFO - Traits
Revealed Traits
- Anti-Shipper
You don't like big boats. Your default reactions towards ships are inclined towards the negative. - Birth of Darkest EvilTM
Drawing on the death of a ship which is "significant" you may cause an Abyssal to spawn. If you can remember a name to call...- Apparently if you draw on the death of a ship, and don't get an Abyssal, then you might get some supplies instead.
- Empty Handed
In a fist fight you're a rudder-fucker. You scale your hand-to-hand combat damage in the same way as any other type. - Heavy Metal
You are a warship despite your appearance and apparent size. You take damage as one and sometimes have the mass of one. - Impact Cushions
Ramming or frontal collisions with other ships may be really sore, but do reduced damage to you under normal circumstances. - Lost for Words
Your time in the fog has caused you to forget many key concepts and words. Hopefully they'll come back to you.
- Watery Weapons Locker
You maybe, just might possibly, have dropped your detachable weapons into the ocean depths for some reason in the past. Oops? - Rotary Cannon Thingy
You don't know the name, but it has multiple barrels and fires at a respectable rate. There isn't much ammo though and it fires bullets rather than proper shells. Needs both hands for now.- Can be given an Abyssal ammo supply for 1 Ammo.
- Can be mounted properly for 1 Metal.
- "Eager Puppy" (Abyssal: Unknown Class)
She sounds really enthusiastic (and bitches love her 5" cannons), but isn't too bright and may be more fragile than you.- Far too adorable. It's hard to properly angst when you just want to hug her!
- She didn't like it when you were screaming...
- Ammo (2 Unit)
You can't seem to use this just now, but maybe Puppy can do something with it?
You've figured out this can be used to supply weapons and do some modifications to them. - Fuel (2 Unit)
You didn't even realise how hungry you had been. It's yummy in your tummy, but you don't know much apart from that.
It can, apparently, be used to help fix up minor or cosmetic damage rather than wasting other Resources. - Metal (2 Units)
There are probably lots of uses for this. You can already feel that it'll help, and speed up, repairs though.
Seems like it can also be use for 'improvised modifications' although those may not be good things to keep.
Last edited:
TURN - A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.1
For a moment you rubbed your sore nose and indulged in thinking about how unfair the world was. Glaring at the dented metal hull ahead, you put on hand on the painted surface then exclaimed in your most eerie voice:
"What a world of dark injustice this is!
To harm a pale maiden's pride and her... her... chest swells?"
You paused, trying to think about what the proper word for the soft bits on your chest which had 'cushioned' your crash in a painful way, then gave up and tried again.
"What a world of dark injustices this is!
To abuse a pale maiden's hopes before dashing them against uncaring iron.
'Tis a place of horrors that would grant hope of freedom,
Then harm her as she exited... the... fog..."
Your words trailed off slowly and your eyes went wide as the reality of the situation hit you.
The fog had surrounded you for so long that you had given up on actually paying attention to your surroundings in favour of what was going on inside of your head. Now though, as you slowly turned your head, it clicked that there was something other than the endless grey around you.
You were standing on the water right next to a freighter, the ship tilted slightly towards you in a manner which seems decidedly unnatural. This close it was a wall stretching out to both sides, looming over your head, but it was actually something you could see!
While you managed to fight down an urge to hug the metal, such a reaction being totally really unsuitable for someone of your gravitas, a quiet squee! of happiness did escape you and it was almost impossibly not to grin gleefully.
Reaching out, you kept one hand on the hull as a touchstone even as you turned and looked away from the ship. It was perhaps silly of you, but in the back of your mind was a vague worry that if you lost contact with it then the entire thing would vanish and leave you back in the grey once more.
Fortunately it wasn't fog that greeted your cautious scan of your surroundings, but instead electric lights and the looming shape of other vessels. As you had theorised in a short (only fifty nine stanza long) poem the darkness was, indeed, your ally against the tyranny of illumination and allowed you to pick you other things of import.
More ships were clustered around you and the dark shape over there could only be a breakwater. What seemed for a moment to be a wall behind several of the ships was actually, when you thought about it, the side of a dock. Indeed, you could even pick out the shadowy shape of a cargo crane against the faint glow of the sky.
"...did I ever write anything about finding a safe harbour?" You couldn't think of any such things in the selection of your Epic Verse which came to mind. However, unless you were hallucinating again, it seemed as though your nigh endless trip through the hated shroud was at an end.
You made a mental note of that turn of phrase, as it seemed suitably goth, then your smile slowly turned to a frown. There were ship here and, unlike that wonderful freight which had been your first encounter with the port, they were eminently seaworthy from all appearances.
And something inside you hated that fact.
For a few moments you luxuriated in the emotion, it being there when so much of you had been lost to the Low Flying Cloud of Lethe (you made a mental note of that turn of phrase too), before even considering acting on it.
If all the ships here had been perfectly intact then you might have done something in knee-jerk reaction. However with your favourite freighter, fragile and slow things that they are, definitely incapable of sailing and another nearby taking on water you didn't feel such a pressing need.
As it was you just ambled away from the hull, your black metal fingers trailing over its surface until you were too far away to maintain contact, you headed out into the middle of the harbour for a better view.
The glow which had let you spot the crane hasn't been something you'd thought much about except for how the orange-ish and wavering colour had made things seem nicely ominous. From your new vantage point, without the hull blocking your sight, you could make out that its source were a few fires both on the decks of some ships and in the midst of the tall stacks of cargo containers.
It was hard, but you could make out figures on the other ships. Sounds of violence going on and the unmistakable noise of metal being bent and pride in horribly damaging way.
No, you told yourself, you would not give another squee. One was enough for a given night even if some marvellous... meat people? (you really needed a dictionary and to look up what people who weren't like you were called) were here and apparently in the process of sinking ships as a way of making you feel welcome!
UPDATE : The traits "Anti-Shipper", "Impact Cushions", and "Lost for Words" have been revealed.
With ships being damaged around you, and some fighting going on, what can you do?
(Vote determines remaining/current weapons. No write-in.)
[ ] Find a meat person tohug thank.
[ ] The fires onshore are pretty. Maybe you can help it along?
[ ] Join in by sending a "boomy thing" at one ship.
[ ] Use a "ratatatat!" at ships in general.
"What a world of dark injustice this is!
To harm a pale maiden's pride and her... her... chest swells?"
You paused, trying to think about what the proper word for the soft bits on your chest which had 'cushioned' your crash in a painful way, then gave up and tried again.
"What a world of dark injustices this is!
To abuse a pale maiden's hopes before dashing them against uncaring iron.
'Tis a place of horrors that would grant hope of freedom,
Then harm her as she exited... the... fog..."
Your words trailed off slowly and your eyes went wide as the reality of the situation hit you.
The fog had surrounded you for so long that you had given up on actually paying attention to your surroundings in favour of what was going on inside of your head. Now though, as you slowly turned your head, it clicked that there was something other than the endless grey around you.
You were standing on the water right next to a freighter, the ship tilted slightly towards you in a manner which seems decidedly unnatural. This close it was a wall stretching out to both sides, looming over your head, but it was actually something you could see!
While you managed to fight down an urge to hug the metal, such a reaction being totally really unsuitable for someone of your gravitas, a quiet squee! of happiness did escape you and it was almost impossibly not to grin gleefully.
Reaching out, you kept one hand on the hull as a touchstone even as you turned and looked away from the ship. It was perhaps silly of you, but in the back of your mind was a vague worry that if you lost contact with it then the entire thing would vanish and leave you back in the grey once more.
Fortunately it wasn't fog that greeted your cautious scan of your surroundings, but instead electric lights and the looming shape of other vessels. As you had theorised in a short (only fifty nine stanza long) poem the darkness was, indeed, your ally against the tyranny of illumination and allowed you to pick you other things of import.
More ships were clustered around you and the dark shape over there could only be a breakwater. What seemed for a moment to be a wall behind several of the ships was actually, when you thought about it, the side of a dock. Indeed, you could even pick out the shadowy shape of a cargo crane against the faint glow of the sky.
"...did I ever write anything about finding a safe harbour?" You couldn't think of any such things in the selection of your Epic Verse which came to mind. However, unless you were hallucinating again, it seemed as though your nigh endless trip through the hated shroud was at an end.
You made a mental note of that turn of phrase, as it seemed suitably goth, then your smile slowly turned to a frown. There were ship here and, unlike that wonderful freight which had been your first encounter with the port, they were eminently seaworthy from all appearances.
And something inside you hated that fact.
For a few moments you luxuriated in the emotion, it being there when so much of you had been lost to the Low Flying Cloud of Lethe (you made a mental note of that turn of phrase too), before even considering acting on it.
If all the ships here had been perfectly intact then you might have done something in knee-jerk reaction. However with your favourite freighter, fragile and slow things that they are, definitely incapable of sailing and another nearby taking on water you didn't feel such a pressing need.
As it was you just ambled away from the hull, your black metal fingers trailing over its surface until you were too far away to maintain contact, you headed out into the middle of the harbour for a better view.
The glow which had let you spot the crane hasn't been something you'd thought much about except for how the orange-ish and wavering colour had made things seem nicely ominous. From your new vantage point, without the hull blocking your sight, you could make out that its source were a few fires both on the decks of some ships and in the midst of the tall stacks of cargo containers.
It was hard, but you could make out figures on the other ships. Sounds of violence going on and the unmistakable noise of metal being bent and pride in horribly damaging way.
No, you told yourself, you would not give another squee. One was enough for a given night even if some marvellous... meat people? (you really needed a dictionary and to look up what people who weren't like you were called) were here and apparently in the process of sinking ships as a way of making you feel welcome!
oOo
Out of the Fog
A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.1
oOo
Out of the Fog
A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.1
oOo
UPDATE : The traits "Anti-Shipper", "Impact Cushions", and "Lost for Words" have been revealed.
With ships being damaged around you, and some fighting going on, what can you do?
(Vote determines remaining/current weapons. No write-in.)
[ ] Find a meat person to
[ ] The fires onshore are pretty. Maybe you can help it along?
[ ] Join in by sending a "boomy thing" at one ship.
[ ] Use a "ratatatat!" at ships in general.
TURN - A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.2
[X] Find a meat person to hug thank.
Part of you really wanted to join in the destruction occurring around you.
That side of you wanted to gleefully stoke the fires into a burning maelstrom, send explosive shells towards the defenceless moored ships, and pull out a thing which went "ratatata!" then spray bullets at their fragile hulls.
Conversely, the larger part of you was too busy to indulge in such flights of fancy. Instead you were mournfully mulling over the vague memory of having dropped your last "ratatata!" things into the waters quite some time ago.
In your defence it had been a pretty heavy thing to lug around while you sailed through the fog and you'd thought that you could maybe get out quicker if you had less weight slowing you down...
"Oh, for the armaments lost and the opportunities found.
How my dark, dark heart weeps black tears at th-"
The sound of gunfire interrupted your soliloquy, causing you to frown briefly before you realised that in your quest for eloquence you had been ignoring your surroundings. That was likely a bad habit and one you promised yourself to get out of.
After all it was only an unappreciative audience who ignored the performance and, with burning buildings and sinking ships, this was quite the show.
Unhurriedly you headed for the nearest wharf where you could see any sort of activity going on. There were meat people moving, small flashes of light, and in general signs that someone there would be the one you could thank for the ongoing destruction.
Vaguely you recalled that there was a sort of thing you did to show liking and approval to someone. It was a very vague memory though, but you were pretty sure that it involve reaching around the meat person. with one arm on each side then not crushing them to death.
It was a difficult maneuver in concept but, with practice, you were sure that you could manage a 'hug'.
While you might not be the fastest thing in the seven seas the harbour wasn't precisely the Atlantic ocean either so it took no time at all for you to reach the wharf from your starting point. The wharf (or maybe pier, the words seemed to overlap) was lower to the waves than the roads at the side of the harbour had been and several small craft tied up here, but of greater import were a cluster of figures ducked behind a set of crates.
With their back to the water this makeshift cover didn't really hide them from you, but it seemed to be doing its job as every so often one or another popped up to fire off a shot. You weren't at all sure who they were trying to shoot, but given how hard they were trying it had to be important to them.
"Greetings from the black heart of the ocean depths!"" You said brightly from right behind them, using your very best eerie voice which just happened to vibrate off the droplets of ocean spray which were making your hair seem a mess. "You have earned my approval through your earnest acts in si-""
The sudden sound of your voice had caused the four men to freeze in place for a moment, obviously paying close attention to your words as they should, but you hadn't gotten through your introductory speech when they dove in all directions.
You blinked, quickly checking the skies for any kind of incoming bombers or barrage which would have caused them to scatter, but nothing presented itself. Looking back down it was apparent that two of the four were running away, one was laying down and leaking red on the pier, and one had scattered in entirely the wrong direction.
Picking your way through the boats (mere future flotsam and jetsam in your opinion given how unarmed they looked) you knelt down on the waves surface. Carefully you took hold of the struggling meat person, who had apparent taken the phrase 'dive for cover' a little too literally or just gotten confused about which direction was which in the dark, then lifted him up out of the water.
"Now that was silly of you." You informed the man, trying not to accidentally break any bits of the fragile thing as you transferred him back onto the dockside. "I'm pretty sure you aren't a submarine to try doing that..."
You were a scion of the darkest waters, a great woman of the seas and death. You were majestic and wilful. And you definitely didn't shriek then drop him in disgust after he coughed a mouthful of something onto you.
"Eeeww!" You scooped a handful of actual sea water up to wash off the 'stuff', "What did you do that for?"
You didn't get any immediate answer as he continued coughing, but as he cleared his lung you kept trying to clear whatever he spat off of your chest.
His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke, still down on all fours, "I.. Thanks for saving me?"
"You are welcome?" You answered, spitefully leaving off the reverb that you'd worked so hard on. Someone who spat on you like that didn't deserve to hear your voice in its full majesty. "I saw the fires and stuff so I came to see if you needed any help or anything."
"Ah...Thanks for the save." He hesitated then admitted, sounding rather sheepish, "We weren't the ones who were putting out the fires or anything. We were trying to have a protest, show that we wouldn't be pushed around, but some people got carried away and then the Teeth showed up."
You nodded even as you thought over the words.
Obviously he didn't want to be mistake for those who were stopping the destruction and gratuitous property damage seemed like a good way for a land-based being to demonstrate that they weren't a push over. That made those 'Teeth' (Perhaps it was a type of meat person?) obviously those who were trying to prevent the damage
"Do you need any help?" You wouldn't have wanted to butt into someone else's fight and accidentally ruin some ongoing strategy they were running. "I don't really have any weapons just now, but I'm stronger than I look."
As well as heavier, but you were not going to admit that. A lady never admitted to being a little over her ideal displacement.
"Well, since you're a cape," A quick glance down showed that you hadn't suddenly gained anything covering your glorious body, but you made the intuitive leap that he was talking about a class of meat person like 'destroyer' or 'cruiser'. "Maybe you could do something. You probably know what you can do better than I would though..."
He shrugged, "I can tell you about what is going on. Whatcha wanna know about though?"
UPDATE : The traits "Empty Handed" and "Watery Weapons Locker" have been revealed.
What single question do you start with?
(Vote indicates intended course of action. Write-ins must be validated by the QM in thread.)
[ ] "How do I tell who is on your side?" (Cooperate with 'allies'.)
[ ] "Do they have any 'capes' here?" (Seek and destroy.)
[ ] "What is in all these containers?" (Attempt to re-arm. Likely to fail.)
[ ] "What sort of weapons do they have?" (Frontal assault.)
[ ] <Write-in: Short question fitting the character + two to three word course of action.>
Part of you really wanted to join in the destruction occurring around you.
That side of you wanted to gleefully stoke the fires into a burning maelstrom, send explosive shells towards the defenceless moored ships, and pull out a thing which went "ratatata!" then spray bullets at their fragile hulls.
Conversely, the larger part of you was too busy to indulge in such flights of fancy. Instead you were mournfully mulling over the vague memory of having dropped your last "ratatata!" things into the waters quite some time ago.
In your defence it had been a pretty heavy thing to lug around while you sailed through the fog and you'd thought that you could maybe get out quicker if you had less weight slowing you down...
"Oh, for the armaments lost and the opportunities found.
How my dark, dark heart weeps black tears at th-"
The sound of gunfire interrupted your soliloquy, causing you to frown briefly before you realised that in your quest for eloquence you had been ignoring your surroundings. That was likely a bad habit and one you promised yourself to get out of.
After all it was only an unappreciative audience who ignored the performance and, with burning buildings and sinking ships, this was quite the show.
Unhurriedly you headed for the nearest wharf where you could see any sort of activity going on. There were meat people moving, small flashes of light, and in general signs that someone there would be the one you could thank for the ongoing destruction.
Vaguely you recalled that there was a sort of thing you did to show liking and approval to someone. It was a very vague memory though, but you were pretty sure that it involve reaching around the meat person. with one arm on each side then not crushing them to death.
It was a difficult maneuver in concept but, with practice, you were sure that you could manage a 'hug'.
While you might not be the fastest thing in the seven seas the harbour wasn't precisely the Atlantic ocean either so it took no time at all for you to reach the wharf from your starting point. The wharf (or maybe pier, the words seemed to overlap) was lower to the waves than the roads at the side of the harbour had been and several small craft tied up here, but of greater import were a cluster of figures ducked behind a set of crates.
With their back to the water this makeshift cover didn't really hide them from you, but it seemed to be doing its job as every so often one or another popped up to fire off a shot. You weren't at all sure who they were trying to shoot, but given how hard they were trying it had to be important to them.
"Greetings from the black heart of the ocean depths!"" You said brightly from right behind them, using your very best eerie voice which just happened to vibrate off the droplets of ocean spray which were making your hair seem a mess. "You have earned my approval through your earnest acts in si-""
The sudden sound of your voice had caused the four men to freeze in place for a moment, obviously paying close attention to your words as they should, but you hadn't gotten through your introductory speech when they dove in all directions.
You blinked, quickly checking the skies for any kind of incoming bombers or barrage which would have caused them to scatter, but nothing presented itself. Looking back down it was apparent that two of the four were running away, one was laying down and leaking red on the pier, and one had scattered in entirely the wrong direction.
Picking your way through the boats (mere future flotsam and jetsam in your opinion given how unarmed they looked) you knelt down on the waves surface. Carefully you took hold of the struggling meat person, who had apparent taken the phrase 'dive for cover' a little too literally or just gotten confused about which direction was which in the dark, then lifted him up out of the water.
"Now that was silly of you." You informed the man, trying not to accidentally break any bits of the fragile thing as you transferred him back onto the dockside. "I'm pretty sure you aren't a submarine to try doing that..."
You were a scion of the darkest waters, a great woman of the seas and death. You were majestic and wilful. And you definitely didn't shriek then drop him in disgust after he coughed a mouthful of something onto you.
"Eeeww!" You scooped a handful of actual sea water up to wash off the 'stuff', "What did you do that for?"
You didn't get any immediate answer as he continued coughing, but as he cleared his lung you kept trying to clear whatever he spat off of your chest.
His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke, still down on all fours, "I.. Thanks for saving me?"
"You are welcome?" You answered, spitefully leaving off the reverb that you'd worked so hard on. Someone who spat on you like that didn't deserve to hear your voice in its full majesty. "I saw the fires and stuff so I came to see if you needed any help or anything."
"Ah...Thanks for the save." He hesitated then admitted, sounding rather sheepish, "We weren't the ones who were putting out the fires or anything. We were trying to have a protest, show that we wouldn't be pushed around, but some people got carried away and then the Teeth showed up."
You nodded even as you thought over the words.
Obviously he didn't want to be mistake for those who were stopping the destruction and gratuitous property damage seemed like a good way for a land-based being to demonstrate that they weren't a push over. That made those 'Teeth' (Perhaps it was a type of meat person?) obviously those who were trying to prevent the damage
"Do you need any help?" You wouldn't have wanted to butt into someone else's fight and accidentally ruin some ongoing strategy they were running. "I don't really have any weapons just now, but I'm stronger than I look."
As well as heavier, but you were not going to admit that. A lady never admitted to being a little over her ideal displacement.
"Well, since you're a cape," A quick glance down showed that you hadn't suddenly gained anything covering your glorious body, but you made the intuitive leap that he was talking about a class of meat person like 'destroyer' or 'cruiser'. "Maybe you could do something. You probably know what you can do better than I would though..."
He shrugged, "I can tell you about what is going on. Whatcha wanna know about though?"
oOo
Out of the Fog
A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.2
oOo
Out of the Fog
A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.2
oOo
UPDATE : The traits "Empty Handed" and "Watery Weapons Locker" have been revealed.
What single question do you start with?
(Vote indicates intended course of action. Write-ins must be validated by the QM in thread.)
[ ] "How do I tell who is on your side?" (Cooperate with 'allies'.)
[ ] "Do they have any 'capes' here?" (Seek and destroy.)
[ ] "What is in all these containers?" (Attempt to re-arm. Likely to fail.)
[ ] "What sort of weapons do they have?" (Frontal assault.)
[ ] <Write-in: Short question fitting the character + two to three word course of action.>
Last edited:
TURN - A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.3
[X] "How do I tell who is on your side?" (Cooperate with 'allies'.)
That question took him by surprise and he stared at you slack jawed for a moment before closing his mouth.
"We're the Dockworkers Association," He said finally, giving you an odd look, "And we're the ones who are dressed up in sensible working clothes. There'll be others about, the Teeth, E88, and maybe even the Merchants but they'll be in gang colours."
That, you decided, was a pretty unhelpful explanation. With the amount of skin covered you were pretty sure that there was no possible way for rigging to secure itself, nor his engines to vent steam if need be, and that made it distinctly not sensible.
And what were gang colours? Green? Blue? Neon pink?
The meat person must have sensed your confusion as before you could open your mouth to ask about that he clarified, "Teeth use a white triangle, the bottom point red. The Empire have swastika or just a double eight. Merchant use this stupid dollar sign thing."
You nodded slowly, taking that in. Triangles were easy to remember, dollar symbols likewise, and the mention of two eights in their symbol made you assume that "the Empire" was the same as the "E88". Hopefully your opponents would be flying appropriate flags though or else it would get messy to spot a smaller symbol on them.
You gave a brief glared towards the meat person's figure covering garb. That, you suspected, wouldn't help spotting such symbols if they were painted on their hulls...
"Anything else you need to ask?" You were embarrassed by the fact that you had been standing their briefly, considering how best to get rid of the concealing layers, and so hurriedly nodded.
"Um, yes..." You felt your cheeks warm and switched to your best eerie voice again to cover up how uncertain you must have sounded,"I mean: Of course there is information that I desire."
When he shuddered, eyes going wide as he almost took a step back, you knew that you had gotten it right.
"Where is the fighting thickest, that blood may be spilled and your kind carries out the will of Lars?" You asked, trying your best to sound seductively terrifying and really hoped that you'd recalled which divinity and planet was the associated with war.
He shuddered.
He actually shuddered.
Success!
"I- I think they were near the harbour mouth." He said, face a little paler than it had been before, "We were just going to show that we weren't to be pushed around, make the big money have to pay out, but then the Teeth got in on it and they were talking about sinking a ship there. Which would close the port of months."
You barely paid attention to this words, struggling to keep your face composed even as you squeed! inwardly at managing to be properly scary, but you got the underlying meaning.
Enemies at the mouth of the harbour, ships to be sunk there, blah blah blah...
That was probably close enough and, anyway, even as he spoke you had been already trying to put together a proper phrasing of your next question.
"In this sweet night, lit by the burning fires, is there any matter which is of greater import?" You asked, "An enemy to grasp, a foe with which to cross arms, a desperate fight against superior force lest there being a dying of the night?"
You took extra care with the phrasing there because it important that the night, and thus the darkness, win in the end.
Black was far better than grey. Endless grey...
You shivered and forced your thoughts to happier things.
"I think that the Empire is coming in slow, over by the gates." The meat person stated carefully, looking a far healthier pale hue than the ruddy face he'd had earlier. It wasn't too far from your own skin colour. "I don't know what the Merchants are doing, but they seem to be defending some of the cargo areas hard while they get some stuff out."
He made a vague gesture at each appropriate point and you glanced in the directions he'd pointed. Interestingly in the direction of the 'gates' you could see a flicker of flames above the intervening obstacles.
Fire, sinking ships, orthieves pirates? That made for an interesting set of choice of where you should join battle.
As you pondered that something about what he'd said earlier stuck in your mind, "Um, aren't swastika's Nazi symbols? I think they are and why would they be using those?"
"...the Empire are Nazis."
"Ah. That makes sense?"
You were pretty sure that you'd ruined the gloriously powerful and terrifying impression you had made on him and you suspect that, out of practice as you were, you'd soon stick your foot further into your mouth.
"Um, I've got to go then?" You told him with a pleasant smile for the meat person, "People to kill, places to blow. Thanks, bye, have a nice war!"
You weren't running away, your face heating with embarrassment, you were merely... charging towards your next destination.
Right?
What will you do first?
(Vote indicates intention assuming no interruptions. No write-ins.)
[ ] Deal with Imperial ambitions.
[ ] Finish the Dockworker's work and sink some ships.
[ ] Stamp out the Merchant activity.
[ ] Take a bite out of the Teeth.
Will you check your internal radio for any transmissions?
(You'll stop listening if distracted. No write-ins.)
[ ] Yes. (Distracts from noticing other things.)
[ ] No. (No chance for information from broadcasts.)
That question took him by surprise and he stared at you slack jawed for a moment before closing his mouth.
"We're the Dockworkers Association," He said finally, giving you an odd look, "And we're the ones who are dressed up in sensible working clothes. There'll be others about, the Teeth, E88, and maybe even the Merchants but they'll be in gang colours."
That, you decided, was a pretty unhelpful explanation. With the amount of skin covered you were pretty sure that there was no possible way for rigging to secure itself, nor his engines to vent steam if need be, and that made it distinctly not sensible.
And what were gang colours? Green? Blue? Neon pink?
The meat person must have sensed your confusion as before you could open your mouth to ask about that he clarified, "Teeth use a white triangle, the bottom point red. The Empire have swastika or just a double eight. Merchant use this stupid dollar sign thing."
You nodded slowly, taking that in. Triangles were easy to remember, dollar symbols likewise, and the mention of two eights in their symbol made you assume that "the Empire" was the same as the "E88". Hopefully your opponents would be flying appropriate flags though or else it would get messy to spot a smaller symbol on them.
You gave a brief glared towards the meat person's figure covering garb. That, you suspected, wouldn't help spotting such symbols if they were painted on their hulls...
"Anything else you need to ask?" You were embarrassed by the fact that you had been standing their briefly, considering how best to get rid of the concealing layers, and so hurriedly nodded.
"Um, yes..." You felt your cheeks warm and switched to your best eerie voice again to cover up how uncertain you must have sounded,"I mean: Of course there is information that I desire."
When he shuddered, eyes going wide as he almost took a step back, you knew that you had gotten it right.
"Where is the fighting thickest, that blood may be spilled and your kind carries out the will of Lars?" You asked, trying your best to sound seductively terrifying and really hoped that you'd recalled which divinity and planet was the associated with war.
He shuddered.
He actually shuddered.
Success!
"I- I think they were near the harbour mouth." He said, face a little paler than it had been before, "We were just going to show that we weren't to be pushed around, make the big money have to pay out, but then the Teeth got in on it and they were talking about sinking a ship there. Which would close the port of months."
You barely paid attention to this words, struggling to keep your face composed even as you squeed! inwardly at managing to be properly scary, but you got the underlying meaning.
Enemies at the mouth of the harbour, ships to be sunk there, blah blah blah...
That was probably close enough and, anyway, even as he spoke you had been already trying to put together a proper phrasing of your next question.
"In this sweet night, lit by the burning fires, is there any matter which is of greater import?" You asked, "An enemy to grasp, a foe with which to cross arms, a desperate fight against superior force lest there being a dying of the night?"
You took extra care with the phrasing there because it important that the night, and thus the darkness, win in the end.
Black was far better than grey. Endless grey...
You shivered and forced your thoughts to happier things.
"I think that the Empire is coming in slow, over by the gates." The meat person stated carefully, looking a far healthier pale hue than the ruddy face he'd had earlier. It wasn't too far from your own skin colour. "I don't know what the Merchants are doing, but they seem to be defending some of the cargo areas hard while they get some stuff out."
He made a vague gesture at each appropriate point and you glanced in the directions he'd pointed. Interestingly in the direction of the 'gates' you could see a flicker of flames above the intervening obstacles.
Fire, sinking ships, or
As you pondered that something about what he'd said earlier stuck in your mind, "Um, aren't swastika's Nazi symbols? I think they are and why would they be using those?"
"...the Empire are Nazis."
"Ah. That makes sense?"
You were pretty sure that you'd ruined the gloriously powerful and terrifying impression you had made on him and you suspect that, out of practice as you were, you'd soon stick your foot further into your mouth.
"Um, I've got to go then?" You told him with a pleasant smile for the meat person, "People to kill, places to blow. Thanks, bye, have a nice war!"
You weren't running away, your face heating with embarrassment, you were merely... charging towards your next destination.
Right?
oOo
Out of the Fog
A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.3
oOo
Out of the Fog
A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.3
oOo
What will you do first?
(Vote indicates intention assuming no interruptions. No write-ins.)
[ ] Deal with Imperial ambitions.
[ ] Finish the Dockworker's work and sink some ships.
[ ] Stamp out the Merchant activity.
[ ] Take a bite out of the Teeth.
Will you check your internal radio for any transmissions?
(You'll stop listening if distracted. No write-ins.)
[ ] Yes. (Distracts from noticing other things.)
[ ] No. (No chance for information from broadcasts.)
TURN - A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.4
[x] Deal with Imperial ambitions.
[x] Yes. (Distracts from noticing other things.)
Nazis were nasty?
You rolled the idea around in your thoughts as you headed across the bay towards the fires and, supposedly, towards where this "Empire 88" were entering the area. There was a blank spot where the meaning of the term "Nazi" should have been, but that didn't real bother you.
(Not that the lack of bother would prevent you from waxing lyrical on the matter once you'd come up with a proper couplet using rhyme for "Nazi".)
Even as part of your mind mused on the matter you didn't neglect the task at hand. With a mental twist you heard first a hiss then a surge of noise as you turned on your internal radio receiver. To your surprise the loud pulses of radar that should have been there were missing and, instead, there was babble of voices and music.
There was no radar? Nothing to warn them of your approach?
Your smile widen in anticipation, teeth bared at the world, and you could feel in your veins the pulsing of your engines as you coaxed their output higher. What had been a steady progress across the bay quickened as you poured on the power.
You were going to hit them like... like... like...?
A snippet of music on the airwaves registered, matching what you wanted your mood to be, and you tuned into that channel.
"Thunder." You stated in time with the music as you continued to accelerate. "I shall hit them like thunder."
(A very small part of your mind tried to protest that thunder was merely a side effect of lighting, but you were used to smothering such uncool thoughts before they could impinge on your monologue.)
Spray whipped by as you surged forwards, pushing your limits in a way that you couldn't remembering doing before.
The harbour was large enough to accommodate freighters, but in was in no way large enough to handle you for long if you weren't merely ambling about. The edge of the bay was fast approaching, but you didn't plan on slowing down.
"And I knew there was no turning back." You sang along with the song as though you'd always known the lyrics, your eyes fix on edge closest to the gates.
"Sound of the drums
Beating in my heart
The thunder of guns"
You sang loudly, letting you voice carry on the air and the airwaves through your radio, and you pushed yourself to go faster as the sound of shooting became audible almost in a response. Slowing down never came to your mind as there was a slipway in your sights and screeching voice in your ears egging you on.
"Tore me apart"
When you hit the concrete slipway, a ramp from the waters to the dry land, you had a brief to regret trying this stunt as the transition tore at you. The pain from that didn't register for long though as your feet went out from under you, sending you into an out of control forward tumble.
Ouch
What did register though was a brief glimpse of a cargo container between you and the gates, seen for a moment before your momentum carried you into it. Such containers were not small things. Made of solid metal and weighing in at perhaps five thousand pounds they were made to tolerate a degree of abuse.
You had been going at over twenty knots and, on one level, your weight might best measured in thousands of tons.
That didn't mean that going through it didn't hurt though.
Ouch!
The uncontrolled tumble came to an end, after a few more collisions with things you didn't have a chance to recognise, with you in an untidy heap on the ground some distance away from the water.
Vaguely you realised that meat people were nearby and staring at you in shock, but the only thing that came to your dazed mind was to speak the words that were still ringing in your ears:
"You've been Thunderstruck!"
Someone snickered.
Something inside of you snapped as the sound and you clicked off your radio as your mood instantly soured.
You were the night.
You were that which was born from darkness.
You were all the hurty things from their worstest dreams!
You were not mortified at how you had horribly botched that attempt at a really cool and dramatic entrance. And you definitely weren't fighting to hold off a sniffle at how sore you were even as you blinked back tears.
"Are you okay, Miss... Thunderstruck?" A vaguely bemused voice vaguely penetrated your misery, "I am unsure what your intentions are, but I believe you have quite thoroughly dealt with that car and the fence."
Trying to struggle out of the metal mesh that had somehow got caught on you during your mishap, you looked up to try and source the voice.
The man who had apparently addressed you was standing about twenty yards away and almost instantly you forgave him for having been a witness to your ignominious entrance attempt. He had a nice voice, seemed concerned, but most of all he had the coolest imitation of rigging ever on. It was all pointy metal bits and sharp edges and he even had a circlet on his head which looked to be made of swords!
(That didn't mean that you wouldn't kill him if need be, but he had a Nice Hat and you wouldn't insult him by lying to yourself about that.)
"Oh, I'm here to kill some Nazis." You told him even as you tried to subtly disentangle a bit of the wreckage wrapped around you which was pressing uncomfortably into your thigh. "Do you know where I can find them? I got told they have this sort of pointy symbol."
You had felt safe enough asking that. After all the symbol emblazoned on his clock (He had a cloak! Oh, his rigging just got cooler the more you noticed about it!) was an E with two eights rather than any sort of swastika.
A glowing young woman next to him seemed to want to say something (and you approved of the all white colour scheme she had even if a little black and blood red could have livened it up), but he put his hand on her arm and she fell silent.
Giving up on trying to get free without being noticed you reached down and just ripped the entangling metal mesh away. Under your hands it tore as though made of tinfoil, letting you brush away the less pieces like chaff, and you only winced a few times as your hands touched your newly acquired scrapes and bruises.
It was when you were distracted that something hit you in the eye.
You yelped then pressed a hand to your face, covering your abused eye. Rubbing it carefully you tried to deal with the cause of your pain, but when you finally managed to you just stared at the small bullet.
Someone had shot you.
In the eye.
With a pistol?
You stared at the meat people behind the man with the rigging for a moment, their presence finally registering as you tryied to figure out who did that, and wondered if that was some sort of insult or just an attempt to gain your attention.
It was a pistol.
Then something clicked as you spotted a familiar symbol on the arms of a few of the meat people and you turned your gaze accusingly to the man with the rigging.
"You're Nazis, aren't you!"
Who will you attack first?
(Vote indicates intention, but plans may not survive contact with enemy. No write-ins.)
[ ] A differently dressed teenager boy who is hanging back.
[ ] Clear away the trash minions first.
[ ] Get rid of the glowing girl who is hurting your eyes.
[ ] Rigging = Dangerous. Kill the man.
[x] Yes. (Distracts from noticing other things.)
Nazis were nasty?
You rolled the idea around in your thoughts as you headed across the bay towards the fires and, supposedly, towards where this "Empire 88" were entering the area. There was a blank spot where the meaning of the term "Nazi" should have been, but that didn't real bother you.
(Not that the lack of bother would prevent you from waxing lyrical on the matter once you'd come up with a proper couplet using rhyme for "Nazi".)
Even as part of your mind mused on the matter you didn't neglect the task at hand. With a mental twist you heard first a hiss then a surge of noise as you turned on your internal radio receiver. To your surprise the loud pulses of radar that should have been there were missing and, instead, there was babble of voices and music.
There was no radar? Nothing to warn them of your approach?
Your smile widen in anticipation, teeth bared at the world, and you could feel in your veins the pulsing of your engines as you coaxed their output higher. What had been a steady progress across the bay quickened as you poured on the power.
You were going to hit them like... like... like...?
A snippet of music on the airwaves registered, matching what you wanted your mood to be, and you tuned into that channel.
"Thunder." You stated in time with the music as you continued to accelerate. "I shall hit them like thunder."
(A very small part of your mind tried to protest that thunder was merely a side effect of lighting, but you were used to smothering such uncool thoughts before they could impinge on your monologue.)
Spray whipped by as you surged forwards, pushing your limits in a way that you couldn't remembering doing before.
The harbour was large enough to accommodate freighters, but in was in no way large enough to handle you for long if you weren't merely ambling about. The edge of the bay was fast approaching, but you didn't plan on slowing down.
"And I knew there was no turning back." You sang along with the song as though you'd always known the lyrics, your eyes fix on edge closest to the gates.
"Sound of the drums
Beating in my heart
The thunder of guns"
You sang loudly, letting you voice carry on the air and the airwaves through your radio, and you pushed yourself to go faster as the sound of shooting became audible almost in a response. Slowing down never came to your mind as there was a slipway in your sights and screeching voice in your ears egging you on.
"Tore me apart"
When you hit the concrete slipway, a ramp from the waters to the dry land, you had a brief to regret trying this stunt as the transition tore at you. The pain from that didn't register for long though as your feet went out from under you, sending you into an out of control forward tumble.
Ouch
What did register though was a brief glimpse of a cargo container between you and the gates, seen for a moment before your momentum carried you into it. Such containers were not small things. Made of solid metal and weighing in at perhaps five thousand pounds they were made to tolerate a degree of abuse.
You had been going at over twenty knots and, on one level, your weight might best measured in thousands of tons.
That didn't mean that going through it didn't hurt though.
Ouch!
The uncontrolled tumble came to an end, after a few more collisions with things you didn't have a chance to recognise, with you in an untidy heap on the ground some distance away from the water.
Vaguely you realised that meat people were nearby and staring at you in shock, but the only thing that came to your dazed mind was to speak the words that were still ringing in your ears:
"You've been Thunderstruck!"
Someone snickered.
Something inside of you snapped as the sound and you clicked off your radio as your mood instantly soured.
You were the night.
You were that which was born from darkness.
You were all the hurty things from their worstest dreams!
You were not mortified at how you had horribly botched that attempt at a really cool and dramatic entrance. And you definitely weren't fighting to hold off a sniffle at how sore you were even as you blinked back tears.
"Are you okay, Miss... Thunderstruck?" A vaguely bemused voice vaguely penetrated your misery, "I am unsure what your intentions are, but I believe you have quite thoroughly dealt with that car and the fence."
Trying to struggle out of the metal mesh that had somehow got caught on you during your mishap, you looked up to try and source the voice.
The man who had apparently addressed you was standing about twenty yards away and almost instantly you forgave him for having been a witness to your ignominious entrance attempt. He had a nice voice, seemed concerned, but most of all he had the coolest imitation of rigging ever on. It was all pointy metal bits and sharp edges and he even had a circlet on his head which looked to be made of swords!
(That didn't mean that you wouldn't kill him if need be, but he had a Nice Hat and you wouldn't insult him by lying to yourself about that.)
"Oh, I'm here to kill some Nazis." You told him even as you tried to subtly disentangle a bit of the wreckage wrapped around you which was pressing uncomfortably into your thigh. "Do you know where I can find them? I got told they have this sort of pointy symbol."
You had felt safe enough asking that. After all the symbol emblazoned on his clock (He had a cloak! Oh, his rigging just got cooler the more you noticed about it!) was an E with two eights rather than any sort of swastika.
A glowing young woman next to him seemed to want to say something (and you approved of the all white colour scheme she had even if a little black and blood red could have livened it up), but he put his hand on her arm and she fell silent.
Giving up on trying to get free without being noticed you reached down and just ripped the entangling metal mesh away. Under your hands it tore as though made of tinfoil, letting you brush away the less pieces like chaff, and you only winced a few times as your hands touched your newly acquired scrapes and bruises.
It was when you were distracted that something hit you in the eye.
You yelped then pressed a hand to your face, covering your abused eye. Rubbing it carefully you tried to deal with the cause of your pain, but when you finally managed to you just stared at the small bullet.
Someone had shot you.
In the eye.
With a pistol?
You stared at the meat people behind the man with the rigging for a moment, their presence finally registering as you tryied to figure out who did that, and wondered if that was some sort of insult or just an attempt to gain your attention.
It was a pistol.
Then something clicked as you spotted a familiar symbol on the arms of a few of the meat people and you turned your gaze accusingly to the man with the rigging.
"You're Nazis, aren't you!"
oOo
Out of the Fog
A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.4
oOo
Congratulations, you've found Nazis to fight!
You have minor injuries.
UPDATE : The trait "Heavy Metal" has been revealed.
oOo
Out of the Fog
A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.4
oOo
Congratulations, you've found Nazis to fight!
You have minor injuries.
UPDATE : The trait "Heavy Metal" has been revealed.
oOo
Who will you attack first?
(Vote indicates intention, but plans may not survive contact with enemy. No write-ins.)
[ ] A differently dressed teenager boy who is hanging back.
[ ] Clear away the trash minions first.
[ ] Get rid of the glowing girl who is hurting your eyes.
[ ] Rigging = Dangerous. Kill the man.
TURN - A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.5
[X] Rigging = Dangerous. Kill the man.
Your face was already hot with embarrassment about your botched entrance onto the scene, but that didn't stop you from feeling a surge of humiliation about making such an obvious mistake in target identification.
You felt so bad about it that you couldn't blame anyone else.
The dockworker meat person had told you everything you needed to know, even about the 'E88' being he group of Nazit's you were seeking, and the Nazi's themselves hadn't even had a chance to announce their allegiance properly before you went and botched things.
With nobody else at fault you placed the blame squarely on the source of this tragic error.
Obviously the music was to blame.
Now that you had time to think, letting your body move in ways it seemed used to, this was the obvious thing. Carefully you tuned out the tempting evils or rock and roll, letting static will your ears over the radio even as you lunged forward towards the most obvious target.
The enemy flagship.
True, there was the issue of the man in the rigging being the wrong gender and lacking that weight which any proper hull should possess. However, with the hiss of static as company for your thought and your fist cocking back to deliver a punishing blow, he was the closest thing to one around.
You were strong, you were powerful, you were the NIGHT GIVEN FORM.
Nothing could stop one of your strikes when you pushed yourself!
However the man apparently agreed and did the sensible, but rather disappointing for you, thing and hastily dodged out of the way of your incoming fist. You did your best to compensate for the dodge, but your mobility on land was somewhat lacking and instead your fist ended up hitting the ground.
On the upside it seemed that the hardened concrete which covered the ground here also agreed with your self-assessment and promptly shattered into a chunks of a variety of sizes plus a scattering of small fragments which flew like shrapnel.
"You don't kno-" The man in the rigging was saying, but the confidence in his voice wasn't matched by his actions as he moved back to increase the distance between you.
"I know everything." You cut off his words, pulling your hand back out of the ground and ignoring the already fading ache from it. Mentally you made a note to fold your thumb outside of your fist next time. "I have seen the darkness in your hearts, the deeds that you have done!"
Inwardly you preened under the terrified gazes of the lesser Nazi's, taking an ominous step towards your target and smiling (but in a tight scary manner, really) as he took one away from you.
It was at this point that you were suddenly reminded that you had lost track of the glowy girl.
For the second time since you reached this harbour, and once again in front of these Nazi's, you went tumbling head over heels as something struck you in a sudden flare of heat. The first shot surprised you, stunning you for a moment as the light smote you like the fist of... of... like fist of some religions type person.
(Blinking the spots out of your eyes you realised that maybe the two strikes in quick succession may have done a little more than daze you.)
"Oh, come on, that's cheating!" You complained as you traced back where the blasts had come from and saw that the glowing meat person was hovering a good thirty foot up in the air.
"And your surprise assault was not?" This time the man in the rigging was hanging further back, well out of easy lunging range, "I should warn you that the others will be returning now that Purity has shown her presence. While a Brute such as yourself may be understandably confident, but already you face the All Father, his shining envoy, and his specialist. And we are no longer unprepared."
It was a quite eloquent speech and a small part of your admired how well it made every syllable matter, some parts sounding threatening while others made the idea of his largess into something which dripped from each word.
On your side you felt clumsy, awkward, and there was Something Wrong with the instincts which was bothering you immensely. Despite everything you were certain that you shouldn't have missed with that first lunge. Nothing else seemed off, but you had to actually think a little about how you would go about delivering a properly devastating blow.
Inwardly you fumed at that fact. How the Hades were you meant to write a good ballad about your actions curb stomping Naizs if you had to actually focus on the fight?
However, as far as you could tell, there was nothing wrong with the rest of your ingrained reflexes.
You dropped into a crouch, hands clutching at the damaged concrete and making furrows in it, and let out your most intimidating snarl. Your body was tensed as though ready for action and between you and the man a forest of blades, daggers, and metal spears sprang up.
"You claim to be prepared?" You spat out, trying to get back to your earlier intimidating persona, "You do not understand your position do you. I am the darkness. I am the night. I am the wrath of the oceans deep, the tearing of hope, the way that salt into those small cuts so they really annoy you..."
Attempting to get to him would mean testing your body against pointy bits of unknown strength and, despite your confusion and the strange degradation of your unarmed prowess, there was nothing wrong with your actual tactical ability.
Nor any impediment to your ability to plot ballistic trajectories.
The first piece of shattered concrete struck the side of his helmet with as much force as you could muster behind the projectile. Taken off guard by your surprisingly accurate underhand throw he went down, possibly injured but likely just stunned unless he was ridiculously fragile.
Between you and the man the array of bade clattered to the ground, removing the barrier which would have prevented you from getting close. However you were pretty sure that you didn't have long to make use of their surprise.
"Let's get dangerous!"
As you went into action you admitted to yourself that not every line you tried could be a winner...
Maybe the headache you were getting was to blame?
(Vote indicates intention, but plans may not survive contact with enemy. No write-ins.)
[ ] Curb-stomping the fallen "flagNazi" make sure he stays down.
[ ] Heading back to the water which is more suited for you.
[ ] Taking down the glowy girl before she managed to reload!
[ ] That strange teenager is staring. Is it because of your chest swells?
[ ] Thinning the crowd of lesser meat people. The "Golden BB" is a thing.
Your face was already hot with embarrassment about your botched entrance onto the scene, but that didn't stop you from feeling a surge of humiliation about making such an obvious mistake in target identification.
You felt so bad about it that you couldn't blame anyone else.
The dockworker meat person had told you everything you needed to know, even about the 'E88' being he group of Nazit's you were seeking, and the Nazi's themselves hadn't even had a chance to announce their allegiance properly before you went and botched things.
With nobody else at fault you placed the blame squarely on the source of this tragic error.
Obviously the music was to blame.
Now that you had time to think, letting your body move in ways it seemed used to, this was the obvious thing. Carefully you tuned out the tempting evils or rock and roll, letting static will your ears over the radio even as you lunged forward towards the most obvious target.
The enemy flagship.
True, there was the issue of the man in the rigging being the wrong gender and lacking that weight which any proper hull should possess. However, with the hiss of static as company for your thought and your fist cocking back to deliver a punishing blow, he was the closest thing to one around.
You were strong, you were powerful, you were the NIGHT GIVEN FORM.
Nothing could stop one of your strikes when you pushed yourself!
However the man apparently agreed and did the sensible, but rather disappointing for you, thing and hastily dodged out of the way of your incoming fist. You did your best to compensate for the dodge, but your mobility on land was somewhat lacking and instead your fist ended up hitting the ground.
On the upside it seemed that the hardened concrete which covered the ground here also agreed with your self-assessment and promptly shattered into a chunks of a variety of sizes plus a scattering of small fragments which flew like shrapnel.
"You don't kno-" The man in the rigging was saying, but the confidence in his voice wasn't matched by his actions as he moved back to increase the distance between you.
"I know everything." You cut off his words, pulling your hand back out of the ground and ignoring the already fading ache from it. Mentally you made a note to fold your thumb outside of your fist next time. "I have seen the darkness in your hearts, the deeds that you have done!"
Inwardly you preened under the terrified gazes of the lesser Nazi's, taking an ominous step towards your target and smiling (but in a tight scary manner, really) as he took one away from you.
It was at this point that you were suddenly reminded that you had lost track of the glowy girl.
For the second time since you reached this harbour, and once again in front of these Nazi's, you went tumbling head over heels as something struck you in a sudden flare of heat. The first shot surprised you, stunning you for a moment as the light smote you like the fist of... of... like fist of some religions type person.
(Blinking the spots out of your eyes you realised that maybe the two strikes in quick succession may have done a little more than daze you.)
"Oh, come on, that's cheating!" You complained as you traced back where the blasts had come from and saw that the glowing meat person was hovering a good thirty foot up in the air.
"And your surprise assault was not?" This time the man in the rigging was hanging further back, well out of easy lunging range, "I should warn you that the others will be returning now that Purity has shown her presence. While a Brute such as yourself may be understandably confident, but already you face the All Father, his shining envoy, and his specialist. And we are no longer unprepared."
It was a quite eloquent speech and a small part of your admired how well it made every syllable matter, some parts sounding threatening while others made the idea of his largess into something which dripped from each word.
On your side you felt clumsy, awkward, and there was Something Wrong with the instincts which was bothering you immensely. Despite everything you were certain that you shouldn't have missed with that first lunge. Nothing else seemed off, but you had to actually think a little about how you would go about delivering a properly devastating blow.
Inwardly you fumed at that fact. How the Hades were you meant to write a good ballad about your actions curb stomping Naizs if you had to actually focus on the fight?
However, as far as you could tell, there was nothing wrong with the rest of your ingrained reflexes.
You dropped into a crouch, hands clutching at the damaged concrete and making furrows in it, and let out your most intimidating snarl. Your body was tensed as though ready for action and between you and the man a forest of blades, daggers, and metal spears sprang up.
"You claim to be prepared?" You spat out, trying to get back to your earlier intimidating persona, "You do not understand your position do you. I am the darkness. I am the night. I am the wrath of the oceans deep, the tearing of hope, the way that salt into those small cuts so they really annoy you..."
Attempting to get to him would mean testing your body against pointy bits of unknown strength and, despite your confusion and the strange degradation of your unarmed prowess, there was nothing wrong with your actual tactical ability.
Nor any impediment to your ability to plot ballistic trajectories.
The first piece of shattered concrete struck the side of his helmet with as much force as you could muster behind the projectile. Taken off guard by your surprisingly accurate underhand throw he went down, possibly injured but likely just stunned unless he was ridiculously fragile.
Between you and the man the array of bade clattered to the ground, removing the barrier which would have prevented you from getting close. However you were pretty sure that you didn't have long to make use of their surprise.
"Let's get dangerous!"
As you went into action you admitted to yourself that not every line you tried could be a winner...
Maybe the headache you were getting was to blame?
oOo
Out of the Fog
A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.5
oOo
You have minor injuries.
oOo
What will you prioritise dealing with?Out of the Fog
A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.5
oOo
You have minor injuries.
oOo
(Vote indicates intention, but plans may not survive contact with enemy. No write-ins.)
[ ] Curb-stomping the fallen "flagNazi" make sure he stays down.
[ ] Heading back to the water which is more suited for you.
[ ] Taking down the glowy girl before she managed to reload!
[ ] That strange teenager is staring. Is it because of your chest swells?
[ ] Thinning the crowd of lesser meat people. The "Golden BB" is a thing.
TURN - A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.6
[X] Thinning the crowd of lesser meat people. The "Golden BB" is a thing
In the middle of the screaming and panic you found your own personal zen.
The unarmed skill that you wanted to rely upon seemed to have somehow vanished, the reflexes that you were sure that you'd had before the fog now having evaporated, but that didn't stop you from doing the straightforward thing.
Approach enemy.
Put a limb through the space they occupied.
Repeat.
It wasn't really rocket science, was it?
There was a peaceful emptiness in your head as you ignored the more noticeable figures and closed on the main body of their force. You felt slow and clumsy on land, with its frustratingly unyielding footing, but as you flailed away with your limbs it seemed that you were quite effective.
A few bullets pinged off of your limbs or flattened themselves against your flesh, but it seemed that there wasn't a proper calibre naval cannon amongst the group so you just shrugged it off like so much spray.
In that calm place where your thoughts had fled you approved of their discipline, if not their tactics, as they maintained position and did their best to concentrate fire on you.
If they'd been thinking then they'd have realised that scattering would have forced you to chase them down individually and their presence wouldn't have risked friendly fire from the glowing woman.
Shaking off some of the wetness from your arm you began absently humming a tune, the lyrics not coming to mind but the sound rather pity. However a random idea came to mind and rather than lashing out again you tried to actually grab hold of the next meat person within easy reach.
That felt far more natural and, as you felt something yield with a snap under your grasp (possibly something structural by how loud the noises that your latest target made), you felt up to experimenting.
"Excuse me," You told him politely as you took a firmer grip on his body and attempted your newly conceived tactic. "I just need you for a minute..."
"Ah... oops?"
The problem with fighting with Nazis was that they, apparently, lacked any sort of real integrity. Fleeing might be a sensible move faced a Glorious Dark-ess such as yourself, but after only a couple of swings your improvised weapon was starting to come apart like the ones that you had hit.
Maybe, you considered briefly, the answer might be dual wielding?
Nevertheless you were truly dominating in this fight and after scooping up one of the leaking meat people from the ground with your off hand you took a moment to pose triumphantly.
"I Am The Dread And August Dominatrix!" You declared proudly, holding the two "weapons" up in a victorious pose, then paused as something about what you had just said niggled in the back of your mind.
Unfortunately it seemed that holding your twin humanshields weapons up high left your midsection unguarded. That fact was pointed out to you in a distinctly painful manner as the tip of something sharp rammed into you there with significant force, causing you to double over and accidentally ruin the holds on both "weapons" as your grip convulsively tightened.
As you tried to recover, one hand pressed against to the pained spot on your stomach, some instinct told you to jinx to the side and you complied without even thinking.
Apparently that instinct was working correctly because a moment later a searing blast tore through where your upper body had been and carry on to put a hole in one of the ships still in the harbour. The attack had been bright enough to cause spots in your eyes, but when you turned towards the source you saw that the glowing woman who had just used a properly damaging weapon was now hovering with her feet barely off the ground.
No, you told yourself sternly, Now isn't the time to get fuzzy feelings for her just because she chose to do the right thing...
She was saying something, possibly explaining herself, but your one time weapon who lay on the ground beneath your feet was making so much noise that it was hard to make out her words.
"Pardon me for a moment," You told her, feeling a little embarrassed that you couldn't hear her monologue. Carefully you lifted one foot then brought it down hard, ending the sounds instantly.
"...you killed them." She sounded both bewildered and shocked.
A glance down then you were nodding slowly even as your cheeks heated.
"Not all of them," You admitted and cursed whatever it was which had been putting you off your game. The lack of integrity that you had previously noticed meant that four or five from your initial assault weren't moving, but apparently they were also sub-par as bludgeoning weapons as almost the same number seemed to be struggling still.
Even if they were mission killed that was a terrible performance given how much you outclassed them!
"Do you want me to can rectify that." You moved over towards the nearest and considered his current state of repair. "I think that this one has an unbroken leg...?"
An arm was missing too, or at least it was a few metres to one side and the remains of which was leaking, but how long that took to fix depending on how good the local meat person equivalent of a dockyard was. They had to have some good internal damage control though, you realised, despite how fragile they seemed.
After all none of them had sunk yet.
Despite your apologetic words the glow around the woman intensified at your words. This, you felt it safe to assume, was a sign that she was unhappy with you and so you reluctantly set aside thoughts on short ballad lamenting how rusty your skills seemed to be.
Instead you tried to assess what you had were facing:
The majority of the group were a non-issue now. A few might return shortly, but all those who weren't currently on the ground around you had fled "for cover".
The glowing woman might be preparing another shot, but she hadn't fired yet. Your reactions seemed faster than hers, but she appeared reluctant to unleash a blast wide enough to ensure that you were struck. The only reasons to do that which came to mind were either limited ammunition or avoidance of friendly fire.
The strange teenage male who had been staring at you earlier had fallen back, glancing out from behind a corner of a shipping container, but seemed content to remain at least that far away. That odd sensations, the clumsiness that was getting in your way, seemed to surge when he was looking at you and ebb when he ducked out of sight so you were tentatively blaming that on him.
The sound of metal on metal came from two different places. From nearby where the blade covered man was unsteadily trying to push himself up into a sitting position and a more rapid and louder noise which seemed to be approaching from somewhere along the shore.
Darn it, if you were going to have a dramatic showdown then couldn't they have given you some time to think up a grand speech? About the only quotable thing that was coming to mind was "Blood for the Blood God!" and that wouldn't do at all....
What will your immediate plan be?
(Vote indicates intentions. Too long plans may be officially Disapproved of.)
[ ] Go for the teenager and then use the shipping container for cover.
[ ] Take out the glowing woman while she's low then retreat to the water.
[ ] Try to grab the man in rigging as a weapon and shield while he is still dazed.
[ ] <Write-in: A sentence or so as per above...>
In the middle of the screaming and panic you found your own personal zen.
The unarmed skill that you wanted to rely upon seemed to have somehow vanished, the reflexes that you were sure that you'd had before the fog now having evaporated, but that didn't stop you from doing the straightforward thing.
Approach enemy.
Put a limb through the space they occupied.
Repeat.
It wasn't really rocket science, was it?
There was a peaceful emptiness in your head as you ignored the more noticeable figures and closed on the main body of their force. You felt slow and clumsy on land, with its frustratingly unyielding footing, but as you flailed away with your limbs it seemed that you were quite effective.
A few bullets pinged off of your limbs or flattened themselves against your flesh, but it seemed that there wasn't a proper calibre naval cannon amongst the group so you just shrugged it off like so much spray.
In that calm place where your thoughts had fled you approved of their discipline, if not their tactics, as they maintained position and did their best to concentrate fire on you.
If they'd been thinking then they'd have realised that scattering would have forced you to chase them down individually and their presence wouldn't have risked friendly fire from the glowing woman.
Shaking off some of the wetness from your arm you began absently humming a tune, the lyrics not coming to mind but the sound rather pity. However a random idea came to mind and rather than lashing out again you tried to actually grab hold of the next meat person within easy reach.
That felt far more natural and, as you felt something yield with a snap under your grasp (possibly something structural by how loud the noises that your latest target made), you felt up to experimenting.
"Excuse me," You told him politely as you took a firmer grip on his body and attempted your newly conceived tactic. "I just need you for a minute..."
"Ah... oops?"
The problem with fighting with Nazis was that they, apparently, lacked any sort of real integrity. Fleeing might be a sensible move faced a Glorious Dark-ess such as yourself, but after only a couple of swings your improvised weapon was starting to come apart like the ones that you had hit.
Maybe, you considered briefly, the answer might be dual wielding?
Nevertheless you were truly dominating in this fight and after scooping up one of the leaking meat people from the ground with your off hand you took a moment to pose triumphantly.
"I Am The Dread And August Dominatrix!" You declared proudly, holding the two "weapons" up in a victorious pose, then paused as something about what you had just said niggled in the back of your mind.
Unfortunately it seemed that holding your twin human
As you tried to recover, one hand pressed against to the pained spot on your stomach, some instinct told you to jinx to the side and you complied without even thinking.
Apparently that instinct was working correctly because a moment later a searing blast tore through where your upper body had been and carry on to put a hole in one of the ships still in the harbour. The attack had been bright enough to cause spots in your eyes, but when you turned towards the source you saw that the glowing woman who had just used a properly damaging weapon was now hovering with her feet barely off the ground.
No, you told yourself sternly, Now isn't the time to get fuzzy feelings for her just because she chose to do the right thing...
She was saying something, possibly explaining herself, but your one time weapon who lay on the ground beneath your feet was making so much noise that it was hard to make out her words.
"Pardon me for a moment," You told her, feeling a little embarrassed that you couldn't hear her monologue. Carefully you lifted one foot then brought it down hard, ending the sounds instantly.
"...you killed them." She sounded both bewildered and shocked.
A glance down then you were nodding slowly even as your cheeks heated.
"Not all of them," You admitted and cursed whatever it was which had been putting you off your game. The lack of integrity that you had previously noticed meant that four or five from your initial assault weren't moving, but apparently they were also sub-par as bludgeoning weapons as almost the same number seemed to be struggling still.
Even if they were mission killed that was a terrible performance given how much you outclassed them!
"Do you want me to can rectify that." You moved over towards the nearest and considered his current state of repair. "I think that this one has an unbroken leg...?"
An arm was missing too, or at least it was a few metres to one side and the remains of which was leaking, but how long that took to fix depending on how good the local meat person equivalent of a dockyard was. They had to have some good internal damage control though, you realised, despite how fragile they seemed.
After all none of them had sunk yet.
Despite your apologetic words the glow around the woman intensified at your words. This, you felt it safe to assume, was a sign that she was unhappy with you and so you reluctantly set aside thoughts on short ballad lamenting how rusty your skills seemed to be.
Instead you tried to assess what you had were facing:
The majority of the group were a non-issue now. A few might return shortly, but all those who weren't currently on the ground around you had fled "for cover".
The glowing woman might be preparing another shot, but she hadn't fired yet. Your reactions seemed faster than hers, but she appeared reluctant to unleash a blast wide enough to ensure that you were struck. The only reasons to do that which came to mind were either limited ammunition or avoidance of friendly fire.
The strange teenage male who had been staring at you earlier had fallen back, glancing out from behind a corner of a shipping container, but seemed content to remain at least that far away. That odd sensations, the clumsiness that was getting in your way, seemed to surge when he was looking at you and ebb when he ducked out of sight so you were tentatively blaming that on him.
The sound of metal on metal came from two different places. From nearby where the blade covered man was unsteadily trying to push himself up into a sitting position and a more rapid and louder noise which seemed to be approaching from somewhere along the shore.
Darn it, if you were going to have a dramatic showdown then couldn't they have given you some time to think up a grand speech? About the only quotable thing that was coming to mind was "Blood for the Blood God!" and that wouldn't do at all....
oOo
Out of the Fog
A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.6
oOo
Penta-Kill!
(Plus some maiming.)
You have minor injuries and a sore stomach.
oOo
Out of the Fog
A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.6
oOo
Penta-Kill!
(Plus some maiming.)
You have minor injuries and a sore stomach.
oOo
What will your immediate plan be?
(Vote indicates intentions. Too long plans may be officially Disapproved of.)
[ ] Go for the teenager and then use the shipping container for cover.
[ ] Take out the glowing woman while she's low then retreat to the water.
[ ] Try to grab the man in rigging as a weapon and shield while he is still dazed.
[ ] <Write-in: A sentence or so as per above...>
TURN - A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.7
[X] Go for the teenager and then use the shipping container for cover.
You weren't perfect and you knew it.
You freely admitted to yourself that you had problems remembering things, were missing your entire set of armaments, and utterly lacked a knack for writing haiku. You might not mention such things out loud, but you were secure enough in general to acknowledge these flaws.
However these were your flaws and they were all the ones which you wanted.
Thus it was obvious that the pervert had to go.
(Hopefully before you ended up incompetent at anything important. The idea of regularly finding yourself trying to use 'orange' in a rhyming couplet was terrifying... and what if you found yourself unable to do an inner monologue?)
You were still feeling clumsy, but the sensation didn't seem to be going away. Inwardly you railed against the inherent unfairness of the world, that it didn't simply makes things easier for you.
"The inju-"
Ah, nope!
The way that the glow around the hovering woman flared reminded you that this was not the time to begin an extemporous soliloquy on the darkness and angst which shrouded you. A corner of your mind made a note of the thought, filing away with it the added the unfairness that you didn't have time to say something cool.
The rest of your mind, however, was busy with the fact that she had just unleashed a blast far more powerful than the last ones. This one, a burst wider than your fist sizzled through the air parallel to the ground.
It was your body, and your thankfully unimpeded reflexes for evasion, which copied the earlier actions of the man in the rigging and flung you out of the way of something which looked like it would really, really hurt.
And, look, there was this convenient box shaped piece of cover over there!
You felt a savage grin come to your face as you jigged left then right, feeling how much harder it was to do this on land rather than on the seas, and made your way towards the cargo container. Without turning your head from your destination you could see the flares of light, and hear the sounds of concrete shattering, as the glowing woman sent a barrage of increasingly intense blasts in your direction.
You had been rattled by her attacks before, but now you were going to have to take that glowing meat person more seriously or risk getting actually hurt.
With that thought firmly in mind you did you best to cover the remaining distance to the cover as quickly as possible. The lack of water beneath your feet meant that you were having to run, but you were almost th-
SWORD!
With a sound like a dozen knife sets in a tumble dryer (And how did you know what what that sounded like? It was a really odd thing to know what it sounded like...?), the area ahead and around you was suddenly filled with blades. Curved blades jutted from mid air as though to let your momentum slice you in half, knives angled out of the ground as though it was some sort of demented steel porcupine, and swords plummeted with unnatural speed down upon you.
It was a hail of metal and deadly intent. A storm fit to sunder flesh, flay skin, and carve through bone like wax.
"I"
Razor edged scimitars matched themselves against you...
"AM"
Needle sharp daggers stood like caltrops against your feet...
"NOT"
Descending blades impacted your head and shoulders point...
"MEAT!"
You tore through them all.
A hot rage surged through you as you batted aside blades which found no purchase on your flesh. You crushed the daggers beneath feet, the crimson and black metal of your limbs sneering at such things. You ignored the falling swords and plummeting spears like so much chaff.
As you rounded the corner out of sight you focused on the larger aspect of yourself, scraping a broad mark in the concrete as you killed your forward motion like a ship run aground. There was hot anger in you as you grabbed hold of the meat person... the 'teenager' who had been lurking behind the oversized box.
There were hot tears in your eyes at what had happened, rage fighting with deep disappointment. They had tried to kill you. Just kill you like that. You had thought that they had respected you, the glowing woman working up to her heavier guns in order to conserve whatever passed for her munitions.
They had tried to kill you like you were made out of meat!
With one hand you seized him and slammed him against the container, feeling things squish in a deeply satisfying way, and you voiced the aspect of it which showed that they were just mocking you.
"You bastards scratched my paint!"
A pattern of grey-blue streaks from the blades, where the softer metal had deposited itself on your harder hull, marred the glorious darkness of your blackened limbs. A few faint cuts also littered the paler materials which passed for your flesh, but they were literally cosmetic injuries.
"It's going to take ages to buff that out," You informed him, pouring your emotions into you voice and feeling the flesh under your hand quiver in response. "How am I supposed to strike terror into enemies if I look like I've been half covered with incompetent graffiti?!"
Perhaps in answer to your demand, or perhaps because you had been punctuating your words with another slam against the shipping container, the teenager passed out. Which, admittedly, did make you feel a little better.
Or maybe it was because your bout of 'clumsiness' was now fading?
From here, what do you do now?
(Vote indicates intentions. Write-ins preferred, but mind length limit.)
[ ] Brace yourself here for the arrival of that... Wolf? Blade? Thing?
[ ] Human shield at the ready! Charge back to get the rigging guy.
[ ] Meat people are poor melee weapons. Try this one as a projectile against the glowing woman.
[ ] Teenagers make good distractions. Toss him then dash for the water.
[ ] <Write-in: A sentence or so as per above...>
You weren't perfect and you knew it.
You freely admitted to yourself that you had problems remembering things, were missing your entire set of armaments, and utterly lacked a knack for writing haiku. You might not mention such things out loud, but you were secure enough in general to acknowledge these flaws.
However these were your flaws and they were all the ones which you wanted.
Thus it was obvious that the pervert had to go.
(Hopefully before you ended up incompetent at anything important. The idea of regularly finding yourself trying to use 'orange' in a rhyming couplet was terrifying... and what if you found yourself unable to do an inner monologue?)
You were still feeling clumsy, but the sensation didn't seem to be going away. Inwardly you railed against the inherent unfairness of the world, that it didn't simply makes things easier for you.
"The inju-"
Ah, nope!
The way that the glow around the hovering woman flared reminded you that this was not the time to begin an extemporous soliloquy on the darkness and angst which shrouded you. A corner of your mind made a note of the thought, filing away with it the added the unfairness that you didn't have time to say something cool.
The rest of your mind, however, was busy with the fact that she had just unleashed a blast far more powerful than the last ones. This one, a burst wider than your fist sizzled through the air parallel to the ground.
It was your body, and your thankfully unimpeded reflexes for evasion, which copied the earlier actions of the man in the rigging and flung you out of the way of something which looked like it would really, really hurt.
And, look, there was this convenient box shaped piece of cover over there!
You felt a savage grin come to your face as you jigged left then right, feeling how much harder it was to do this on land rather than on the seas, and made your way towards the cargo container. Without turning your head from your destination you could see the flares of light, and hear the sounds of concrete shattering, as the glowing woman sent a barrage of increasingly intense blasts in your direction.
You had been rattled by her attacks before, but now you were going to have to take that glowing meat person more seriously or risk getting actually hurt.
With that thought firmly in mind you did you best to cover the remaining distance to the cover as quickly as possible. The lack of water beneath your feet meant that you were having to run, but you were almost th-
SWORD!
With a sound like a dozen knife sets in a tumble dryer (And how did you know what what that sounded like? It was a really odd thing to know what it sounded like...?), the area ahead and around you was suddenly filled with blades. Curved blades jutted from mid air as though to let your momentum slice you in half, knives angled out of the ground as though it was some sort of demented steel porcupine, and swords plummeted with unnatural speed down upon you.
It was a hail of metal and deadly intent. A storm fit to sunder flesh, flay skin, and carve through bone like wax.
"I"
Razor edged scimitars matched themselves against you...
"AM"
Needle sharp daggers stood like caltrops against your feet...
"NOT"
Descending blades impacted your head and shoulders point...
"MEAT!"
You tore through them all.
A hot rage surged through you as you batted aside blades which found no purchase on your flesh. You crushed the daggers beneath feet, the crimson and black metal of your limbs sneering at such things. You ignored the falling swords and plummeting spears like so much chaff.
As you rounded the corner out of sight you focused on the larger aspect of yourself, scraping a broad mark in the concrete as you killed your forward motion like a ship run aground. There was hot anger in you as you grabbed hold of the meat person... the 'teenager' who had been lurking behind the oversized box.
There were hot tears in your eyes at what had happened, rage fighting with deep disappointment. They had tried to kill you. Just kill you like that. You had thought that they had respected you, the glowing woman working up to her heavier guns in order to conserve whatever passed for her munitions.
They had tried to kill you like you were made out of meat!
With one hand you seized him and slammed him against the container, feeling things squish in a deeply satisfying way, and you voiced the aspect of it which showed that they were just mocking you.
"You bastards scratched my paint!"
A pattern of grey-blue streaks from the blades, where the softer metal had deposited itself on your harder hull, marred the glorious darkness of your blackened limbs. A few faint cuts also littered the paler materials which passed for your flesh, but they were literally cosmetic injuries.
"It's going to take ages to buff that out," You informed him, pouring your emotions into you voice and feeling the flesh under your hand quiver in response. "How am I supposed to strike terror into enemies if I look like I've been half covered with incompetent graffiti?!"
Perhaps in answer to your demand, or perhaps because you had been punctuating your words with another slam against the shipping container, the teenager passed out. Which, admittedly, did make you feel a little better.
Or maybe it was because your bout of 'clumsiness' was now fading?
oOo
Out of the Fog
A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.7
oOo
You have minor injuries and 'scuffed paintwork'.
Worse yet, your feelings are really hurt.
oOo
Out of the Fog
A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.7
oOo
You have minor injuries and 'scuffed paintwork'.
Worse yet, your feelings are really hurt.
oOo
From here, what do you do now?
(Vote indicates intentions. Write-ins preferred, but mind length limit.)
[ ] Brace yourself here for the arrival of that... Wolf? Blade? Thing?
[ ] Human shield at the ready! Charge back to get the rigging guy.
[ ] Meat people are poor melee weapons. Try this one as a projectile against the glowing woman.
[ ] Teenagers make good distractions. Toss him then dash for the water.
[ ] <Write-in: A sentence or so as per above...>
TURN - A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.8
[X] Human shield at the ready! Charge back to get the rigging guy.
The thought passed through your mind that there was something that you had forgotten.
That really wasn't a new thought, you knew that there was a lot of things that you had forgotten while in the fog. It probably wasn't the smartest of moved to stop to wrack your mind for any hint as to what specific thing you had forgot, but the thought was bugging you
For a moment you stood there, idly holding the teenage meat person against the cargo container while he slumped around your hand, and tried to chase down the stray thread of memory
A moment later it hit you and you felt your cheeks heat as you realised just how stupid you had been.
In your haste to do something, to make an impression, you hadn't actually finished off anyone. None of the meat people had sunk, the one with rigging had probably only been vaguely stunned, and in general you had treated them as not being any kind of a threat.
So, of course, that had to be why they had attacked you with those sharp things rather than a proper weapon. They had to be infuriated by how casually you had acted so they had obviously just done the same in return.
"Sorry?" You offered to the slumped teenager who you were holding, feeling really awkward about this. Really, the only way you couldn't have acted more as though this was a game was if you had been fired paint rounds at them. "Don't worry, I'll make it up to you. Somehow."
There was no response and you now felt even worse. You had apparently rattled him worse than you'd thought and there was no way that he could participate in a fight...
Your thoughts hitched and you gave a broad grin as an Idea hit you.
"Don't worry, I promise you'll be involved in this fight." You told him as you shifted to holding him in a firmer two handed grip. "And I think I know what I did wrong last time."
You hesitated for a little longer, pushing your thoughts in order as you prepared to play your part and readied the words which would make all the difference.
Then you moved.
As you rounded the far end of the shipping container there was a flash of light which hissed by you, close enough that you felt the heat against your skin, and a cut off curse from the glowing woman as she was forced to adjust her aim when it had been too late for her to abort her shot.
"I come from the darkest paths where the fallen goes," You proclaimed, keeping the teenager in hand as a shield between you and the woman, "The deepest abyss to which all their sorrow flows."
Metal fractured beneath your feet, the knives suddenly protruding from the ground breaking off harmlessly and doing little more than to make your footing unstable.
As the glow became visible you shifted your portable piece of cover to block her from sight once again. You had expected her to simply shoot him, giving him an honourable sinking in combat, but if she really wanted to hold back then you weren't going to complain.
"This is war, paid for in blood not gold and silver." You announced as you tried your best to cover the distance to where you could make out the man in the encompassing rigging made of blades. Without a proper draft of water beneath you it was a struggle and you were going so slowly compared to what you were used to.
With bits of metal, and relatively intact meat persons, on the ground the footing was pretty bad. However the distances involved weren't great, ridiculously short by your standards actually, and you were there about to pass by your target.
Swinging your improvised shield around, making use of him as a weapon rather than a defence, you opened your mouth to declaim the next line of your poetic epic boast when you hit a problem.
"...what the hell rhymes with silver?"
As this didn't stop the motion of you swinging you then proceeded to hit something a little more physical in a way which utterly distracted you from the important issue of your need for a rhyming dictionary.
Meat hit metal and, to your utter shock, metal lost!
You almost dropped your dripping bludgeon, now somewhat damaged by the spiked projections from the rigging, as the pieces of metal scattered like so much wreckage. A helm hit the concrete with a clang, a pauldron tumbled across the ground and stopped just short of the waters, and all the pieces of the strange rigging were scattered hither and yonder.
Gaping open mouthed at the sight you couldn't quite believe it. You knew about lucky hits, you knew that meat people were fragile, but did you really just turn him into so much disparate piece of scrap to the point that there wasn't enough left to si-
You were half away through the thought, having not had enough time to complete it, when something struck you across the rear hard enough to sting like a life of fire.
No matter what anyone else said, you would stay firm in denying that you let out a squeal and abandoned your 'shield' in preference for clutching protectively at your rear. Behind you a blade tall than you were now lay on the ground from where it had fallen after striking you. However you were more concerned with how much that hard hurt.
Biting your lip you blinked back the tears which had formed in your eyes. The damage from that was not great, but it had come out of nowhere and had really hurt.
It was the sight of the man in the rigging again which startled you as you tried to sooth your... damaged rudder. Things clicked into place as you looked at the encompassing 'rigging' he wore like armour then to the now scattered parts of what you had struck.
Your 'reward' for suffering such a humiliating blow was to have hit a darkness blessed decoy?!
"Can this get any worse?" You muttered, thinking of just how little you'd accomplished. The teenager and the handful of 'plainer' Nazi meat people were on the ground, but there was still the glowing woman and the man in the rigging.
As though in answer to your question a new figure emerged from between two further away shipping containers, gleaming blades merged together into the moving figure of a wolf which was larger than the car which you had rammed through earlier.
It didn't look happy.
"Oh, come off it!"
Everything got worse, but can you handle it...?
(Vote indicates you pulling out an ace. No write-in.)
[ ] Close by a ship has died. You can use that!
[ ] It's not bauxite, but that's very nice metal...
[ ] Not that. Not again. The grey is back...
[ ] Take stand: You shall not be moved.
The thought passed through your mind that there was something that you had forgotten.
That really wasn't a new thought, you knew that there was a lot of things that you had forgotten while in the fog. It probably wasn't the smartest of moved to stop to wrack your mind for any hint as to what specific thing you had forgot, but the thought was bugging you
For a moment you stood there, idly holding the teenage meat person against the cargo container while he slumped around your hand, and tried to chase down the stray thread of memory
A moment later it hit you and you felt your cheeks heat as you realised just how stupid you had been.
In your haste to do something, to make an impression, you hadn't actually finished off anyone. None of the meat people had sunk, the one with rigging had probably only been vaguely stunned, and in general you had treated them as not being any kind of a threat.
So, of course, that had to be why they had attacked you with those sharp things rather than a proper weapon. They had to be infuriated by how casually you had acted so they had obviously just done the same in return.
"Sorry?" You offered to the slumped teenager who you were holding, feeling really awkward about this. Really, the only way you couldn't have acted more as though this was a game was if you had been fired paint rounds at them. "Don't worry, I'll make it up to you. Somehow."
There was no response and you now felt even worse. You had apparently rattled him worse than you'd thought and there was no way that he could participate in a fight...
Your thoughts hitched and you gave a broad grin as an Idea hit you.
"Don't worry, I promise you'll be involved in this fight." You told him as you shifted to holding him in a firmer two handed grip. "And I think I know what I did wrong last time."
You hesitated for a little longer, pushing your thoughts in order as you prepared to play your part and readied the words which would make all the difference.
Then you moved.
As you rounded the far end of the shipping container there was a flash of light which hissed by you, close enough that you felt the heat against your skin, and a cut off curse from the glowing woman as she was forced to adjust her aim when it had been too late for her to abort her shot.
"I come from the darkest paths where the fallen goes," You proclaimed, keeping the teenager in hand as a shield between you and the woman, "The deepest abyss to which all their sorrow flows."
Metal fractured beneath your feet, the knives suddenly protruding from the ground breaking off harmlessly and doing little more than to make your footing unstable.
As the glow became visible you shifted your portable piece of cover to block her from sight once again. You had expected her to simply shoot him, giving him an honourable sinking in combat, but if she really wanted to hold back then you weren't going to complain.
"This is war, paid for in blood not gold and silver." You announced as you tried your best to cover the distance to where you could make out the man in the encompassing rigging made of blades. Without a proper draft of water beneath you it was a struggle and you were going so slowly compared to what you were used to.
With bits of metal, and relatively intact meat persons, on the ground the footing was pretty bad. However the distances involved weren't great, ridiculously short by your standards actually, and you were there about to pass by your target.
Swinging your improvised shield around, making use of him as a weapon rather than a defence, you opened your mouth to declaim the next line of your poetic epic boast when you hit a problem.
"...what the hell rhymes with silver?"
As this didn't stop the motion of you swinging you then proceeded to hit something a little more physical in a way which utterly distracted you from the important issue of your need for a rhyming dictionary.
Meat hit metal and, to your utter shock, metal lost!
You almost dropped your dripping bludgeon, now somewhat damaged by the spiked projections from the rigging, as the pieces of metal scattered like so much wreckage. A helm hit the concrete with a clang, a pauldron tumbled across the ground and stopped just short of the waters, and all the pieces of the strange rigging were scattered hither and yonder.
Gaping open mouthed at the sight you couldn't quite believe it. You knew about lucky hits, you knew that meat people were fragile, but did you really just turn him into so much disparate piece of scrap to the point that there wasn't enough left to si-
You were half away through the thought, having not had enough time to complete it, when something struck you across the rear hard enough to sting like a life of fire.
No matter what anyone else said, you would stay firm in denying that you let out a squeal and abandoned your 'shield' in preference for clutching protectively at your rear. Behind you a blade tall than you were now lay on the ground from where it had fallen after striking you. However you were more concerned with how much that hard hurt.
Biting your lip you blinked back the tears which had formed in your eyes. The damage from that was not great, but it had come out of nowhere and had really hurt.
It was the sight of the man in the rigging again which startled you as you tried to sooth your... damaged rudder. Things clicked into place as you looked at the encompassing 'rigging' he wore like armour then to the now scattered parts of what you had struck.
Your 'reward' for suffering such a humiliating blow was to have hit a darkness blessed decoy?!
"Can this get any worse?" You muttered, thinking of just how little you'd accomplished. The teenager and the handful of 'plainer' Nazi meat people were on the ground, but there was still the glowing woman and the man in the rigging.
As though in answer to your question a new figure emerged from between two further away shipping containers, gleaming blades merged together into the moving figure of a wolf which was larger than the car which you had rammed through earlier.
It didn't look happy.
"Oh, come off it!"
oOo
Out of the Fog
A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.8
oOo
You have minor injuries and 'scuffed paintwork'.
Minor damage to your "rudder".
oOo
Out of the Fog
A (Not So) Safe Harbor 1.8
oOo
You have minor injuries and 'scuffed paintwork'.
Minor damage to your "rudder".
oOo
Everything got worse, but can you handle it...?
(Vote indicates you pulling out an ace. No write-in.)
[ ] Close by a ship has died. You can use that!
[ ] It's not bauxite, but that's very nice metal...
[ ] Not that. Not again. The grey is back...
[ ] Take stand: You shall not be moved.