|
Post by nighthawk on Dec 8, 2009 20:27:34 GMT -5
And so it begins...
|
|
|
Post by Cy Skywalker on Dec 27, 2009 20:12:28 GMT -5
The tech looked out at the banks of transit pods. They glowed in the blue strip lighting like eggs under a heat lamp, ready to hatch beasts from other worlds.
The tech smiled thinly. Confused as newborn chicks, the people who emerged would be too. It would give the Society for Plot and Canon Preservation no data if the subjects knew exactly what had happened to them, or even that they were subjects. They would be completely free after their decantation--or, to put it more succinctly, they would have no idea that there was anyone nearby to help them. Besides the pods, the building looked like a deserted warehouse, with the observing deck hidden away behind walls that appeared transparent only from the inside. After the defenses went up when the transfer pods activated, even Force users wouldn't know the SPCP agents were here.
A young intern entered the room. "M'am, the link has been completed."
The tech turned around. "Good." The warehouse was now fully ensconced in its in-canon location. She scanned the banks of machinery, looked down at the softly glowing pods one last time, and hit the button for the subjects to be pulled in and decanted.
Then she walked out of the room and followed the intern into their own transfer pods. They disappeared.
***
Lyn walked slowly around the stone that was the spiritual center of her clan, seeking for a good spot to scrape off the stone-dust that each newly-made warrior would wear in a pouch at their belt. This bit of heartstone connected each fighting man and woman to their clan, and let the stone gods recognize them upon their death. It was an important duty that the Clan Guide treated with reverence.
She chose a spot and rubbed her hands against the shiny black surface of the stone. It was a boulder quarried far away and brought to the clan house by rollers, perhaps hundreds of years ago. It would serve warriors and indeed everyone in the clan for many hundreds of years to come. It stood higher than twice her body-length. She whispered a prayer, almost unconsciously hooking a thumb around her lore, the badger claw string on a leather thong around her neck, as she did. Then she raised her chisel to strike off a sliver of stone.
And her world blurred. She felt herself falling backwards and started to cry out, but her breath was sucked back in with shock when she landed on a hard surface surrounded by the sheen of light. She felt her hips aching where she fell, and wanted to shrink in on herself as she looked around at the black walls that shone as if they were slick with moisture. Around her--tentatively she knocked on it with white knuckles--were walls of light, solid but invisible.
She blinked, and the vision didn't go away.
She lay against the curved wall and looked around with wild fear in her eyes.
|
|
|
Post by surfersquid on Dec 30, 2009 1:10:23 GMT -5
Menefr padded through the forest silently on paws of velvet, golden shafts of morning sunlight flickering across her vision as she passed through them. She held her staff rigid, perched under one arm in a nearly vertical position, as she glided over rocks and soil and fallen leaves, making nary a sound as her whiskers twitched, feeling the air currents in the woodland.
It was time for breakfast.
Her pale golden-green eyes flashed with anticipation and her ears flicked forward as they caught the sound she had been seeking--running water. She had been in these woods before; she knew where the streams ran. She held herself aloof, head raised high. Nothing hidden among the trees would dare attack her; she was stronger than them all. She was the hunter.
Menefr paused at the water's edge, her nostrils expanding as they filled with the cool air surrounding the stream. With the slightest hint of a smirk, she looked down with narrowed eyes at the running water, waiting for movement while slowly lowering into a crouch, resting her staff on the ground beside her on one of its points. She did not know where Cuor was; that failed to disturb her. He came and went as he pleased, and she trusted that whatever errand he was running was both beneficial to the order of the world, and none of her business.
There it was--a silver flash amongst the flowing water. Her tail twitched ever-so-slightly as her muscles went rigid and her claws extended. She held her paw slowly over the stream, tracking the fish with practiced efficiency.
And finally, it was time to strike. She jabbed her paw down, could see the fish just barely registering the approach of the pin-sharp claws rushing toward its delicate scales--
And she was suddenly thrown off-balance, into the water, as if she had been pushed, or pulled, she couldn't tell quite what. Except now she wasn't in the water at all, she was in some blur of light and shadow, and then she landed with a thump somewhere.
It took her a moment to take in her surroundings, but a moment was all she needed to know that she wanted out. What fell magic was this? She seemed to be trapped in some sort of glass coffin, lying prone. Menefr bared her fangs as she leapt to her feet--no one trapped her like this. Desperately, she scrabbled at the glass around her with all four paws, her tail lashing violently, but to no avail.
Breathing hard, starting to panic, her arms fell to her sides and she felt her staff leaning against the wall. She gripped it tightly, welcoming its comfort in familiarity. This strange cage of glass unfortunately lacked enough room for her to get enough leverage with the staff to be able to do any damage, but there was one way she knew of to escape. Drawing back her arm and curling her paw into a fist, she propelled it forward into the glass wall, which shattered on impact. Such a thing would seem like it would require much strength, but Menefr knew how to work around her lack of strength--by making up for it with focus, channeling all of her force into her blows.
She gingerly stepped out of her strange container, meticulously picking pieces of glass out of her fur with her staff in the crook of one arm, looking around cautiously at her surroundings. It didn't take a genius to figure out that something strange had just happened.
|
|
|
Post by Morndakiél on Dec 31, 2009 1:24:58 GMT -5
The air in the rust-red hallways of the Works was cold enough that Darth Maul could see his breath cloud the air in front of him. Outside, midnight lay over Coruscant in a starless black shroud. In here, glowstrips remained active, but nightmares walked. He could sense Sidious dimly, but the Sith Lord masked his presence well--as well as only he could, in a galaxy of two Sith.
Maul quietly moved around another corner and into a hallway nearly identical to the first, his lightsaber loose in his hand and ready to activate--but no use yet. This was a test of subtlety as much as skill; Sidious could appear to him in any guise, offer any challenge. And keeping the tension from tightening Maul's muscles and heightening his Force presence was all part of the test.
So when Sidious shattered down from above and behind him, lightsaber slashing faster than the eye could distinguish one blur of red from another, Maul smiled at the simplicity of it. No strategy here, no questions. Just step back as he steps in and watch the rhythm of his movements and there the Force screams, there is an opening.
They fenced down the length of the hallway, then Sidious raised a gnarled hand and Maul sensed the lightning coming, stepped aside and flicked one thrumming lightsaber blade up to separate hand from wrist--
and the world turned white.
He assumed he had been rendered senseless by the lightning and sprang to his feet, knowing there would be worse to come if he did not. But as no attack came he slowly breathed in and took in his surroundings; first the lukewarm air, and then the curving glass walls of a cage that kept him away from what looked like an ancient, empty warehouse beyond.
There was a life-form out there, a felinoid with a wooden staff tucked carefully under one arm, peering gracefully around.
And this was not the Works. Sidious' Force presence was gone.
The glass wall was clear and irritating in front of him, and so Maul reactivated one blade of the lightsaber still clenched in his hand and carved an oval in one movement. He kicked it out and walked through.
|
|
|
Post by surfersquid on Dec 31, 2009 13:57:06 GMT -5
The sound of movement and glass clattering to the floor and a sudden strange hum, almost like the sound of magic yet not-quite, made Menefr spin around, drawing her staff in front of her and twirling it defensively before holding it in a ready position, prepared to either strike or defend, moving with practiced precision, no extraneous movement, just pure efficiency of momentum.
Not that that could prepare her for the strange and ghoulish sight in front of her. A flinch spasmed through her body unwillingly, and her ears pressed against her head as her tail twitched at the sinister-looking being that had just made his way out of his own imprisonment. His skin was a rather unnatural shade and pattern, she thought, and he had weird facial features, almost like a simian (although she hadn't seen many of those in her life). He lacked a tail completely and walked on the flats of his feet, as well. All in all, a most peculiar creature. And his eyes looked like they were made of the same fire that his sword seemed to be forged from--she had never seen a weapon like it.
Her lips curled as she snarled and hissed at him. She had no idea how she had gotten here, but she was in no mood to talk. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glance of another being, a female, that seemed to resemble this red-and-black male more than Menefr herself, although there were obvious differences; she couldn't bother to observe much more, as her attention was focused on the male, whom she perceived to be the greatest threat at the moment. What strange place was this, populated by hairless simians as it seemed to be?
|
|
|
Post by SilverSergyon13 on Dec 31, 2009 15:38:33 GMT -5
Marcus woke with a start at the sound of breaking glass. Not again... he thought. The last place he wanted to be was back at Skynet, the AI stronghold. He'd be a dead man for sure after helping John Connor escape the grasp of the enemy once more.
Get ahold of yourself, Marcus. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the strange light, he could see that this place was different from the lifeless, white room that had held him at Skynet. In front of him stood two very alive figures, the identities of whom he did not recognize. In fact, he determined they didn't look very human at all.
Something was shielding him from exiting this capsule, but he could not quite make out what it was. He tried to move his arms, but his limbs felt heavy and sluggish. He manage to lift one arm enough to feel that it was merely glass holding him. Without another thought, he mustered up the energy to punch through the glass and it shattered in pieces around him.
Keeping an eye on the two figures before him, he stepped cautiously out of his capsule. Instinctively he felt his side for the firearm that gave him so much comfort. He gave a sigh of relief when he realized it was still there, strapped securely at his hip. The glint of metal caught his eye as he realized that he must have cut his hand punching through the glass. A brief feeling of anger and resentment rose through him. He didn't want to think about what he had become.
Movement brought Marcus's attention back to the strange room. One of the two figures was obviously not human. The other appeared human enough. He stood there with a dumbfounded look on his face, attempting to put two and two together. He was not quite sure if he should run or take his chances with the angrily posed individuals before him. Instinct told him to flee, but something else in his head told him to stand his ground.
With an expression that can only be described as somewhere between a grimace and a smile, Marcus addressed the two individuals.
"Uh...Hello?"
|
|
|
Post by Cy Skywalker on Dec 31, 2009 18:56:35 GMT -5
Lyn took a few deep breaths and mustered her courage to look out. But there were beings moving out there, distorted and brightened by the glass; dark-clothed forms on two legs like demons in the night. She hid her head behind her fur-clad arm.
But no. No Guide and matron of Clan Blackhail was going to shy away from anything, not even gods-cursed supernatural beasties dallying about in her own delusions. She looked again. Humanoid forms indeed, and she saw one of them go through the motions of a strong punch. The reflections around him changed; he had broken out of a cage of light.
So Lyn stood up, wrapped her wide sleeve around her knuckles, and hit the barrier with a punch and an elbow that followed through but was barely needed. The barrier shattered, tinkling to the ground like shards of stone. No magic backlash struck her, just a clearer view of the outside world--and the demons.
The man standing nearest to her looked human enough, with a pleasant, weathered face and a long coat. But in front of two other pods stood something with the grace--and tail, and face--of a mountain cat, its fur black jet. And beside it, a demon indeed--perhaps the face was tattooed black and red like some of the Maimed Men did to their skin, but the horns looked bony and natural.
Lyn held her lore so tight the thong bit into the back of her neck, and stepped forward, no words coming anywhere near her befuddled brain.
|
|
|
Post by Morndakiél on Dec 31, 2009 19:04:40 GMT -5
Maul was faced with a felinoid--Trianii or Cathar, the features somewhere in between either species--that rounded on him with admirable poise and instantly went into attack mode. Its lips curled back to show sharp, clean teeth, and the Force--dull here, as if seen through glass, but ever-present-- shouted out her fear and aggression.
He whipped his lightsaber forward to slash at it. Then it would bring that wooden staff around and be carved right through--
but a quiet but commanding voice carried through over the saber-hum and spoke of a serenity in the face of danger. Bystander? No. Maul flicked a glance over his shoulder to see a human male with a holstered blaster, a kind he didn't recognize by make or model. His "Hello" was devoid of aggression. Confused too?
Where were they?
He gave a level look to the human, but his knees stayed slightly bent--if the felinoid made a move--Maul could feel the battlelust climbing up the surface of his arms.
|
|
|
Post by surfersquid on Dec 31, 2009 19:11:38 GMT -5
Menefr's whiskers snapped back as she viewed this fourth occupant of the room out of the corner of her eye, her body still taut and rigid and ready to fend off an attacker. Another bald simian. Did no one here have fur or feathers or scales like normal people?
The pale-faced male spoke, and to Menefr's surprise, she understood. Where-ever she was, it was clearly in her own world, since these unusual creatures spoke the common tongue.
Not that she particularly liked his tone of voice. It seemed weak and sniveling, unsure. She smelled fear in the air. If he thought he was going to garner her sympathy by acting unable to fend for himself, he deserved to die like a worm.
Erstwhile, the female had also broken out of her containment. It was difficult to judge her attitude, mostly because Menefr hadn't really concentrated much on her. She stood still, waiting for one of these three strange creatures to do something more. If they were only going to stand around like mute idiots, though, she was going to leave. She still wanted breakfast.
|
|
|
Post by SilverSergyon13 on Dec 31, 2009 19:20:52 GMT -5
Marcus felt the atmosphere of the room tense up, almost as if the drop of a pin would set off a bomb. And God knows he didn't need anymore bombs going off in his vincinity...at least not today. His brain screamed at him to do something...anything.
He stepped closer to the two individuals, ignoring the third who had just awoken from the same slumber he slept a few minutes ago.
"Don't let me interrupt you two, but can some please tell me what the heck is going on?" he asked, more stern than before. Friendly didn't seem to work with these two. "What is this place?"
|
|
|
Post by Cy Skywalker on Jan 1, 2010 13:50:45 GMT -5
Lyn stepped closer to the most human-like of them as he spoke up, determined not to remain silent. She didn't really have an answer, but the words flowed easily. "It's a nest of demons. Or at least I have no reason not to assume otherwise until we speak like civilized folk." She met the eyes of the cat-woman--to one used to identifying warriors under levels of fur coat and armor, there was something feminine in the creature's movement and face-- but still distrusted the other. It wasn't just the orange color that spoke of cruelty in the painted man's--creature's?--eyes. The weight of her warhammer was reassuring at Lyn's side.
"My name is Lyn, Guide of Clan Blackhail." After a moment, she paused and thought of a fact that might be more important. "Human."
|
|
|
Post by Morndakiél on Jan 1, 2010 14:19:25 GMT -5
So they weren't going to give him a fight. He thought at first that this might be a test of Darth Sidious', but none of these beings seemed to know why they were here; not the usual attitude for bounty hunters or assassins. He deactivated his lightsaber. Pity, the man had had to stop the momentum of all of them clashing by trying to make peace...
At least it looked like the felinoid would afford him good practice.
"Nest of demons," said a human woman who looked like she came from a primitive society, all furs and blunt weapons. She introduced herself and confirmed his opinion of her species. She waited for a reply, but he wasn't going to give one; he preferred to remain mysterious. Then he would have more leverage in using these people to know where he had ended up.
He examined the pod he had emerged from; no cables ran from it or buttons were available on its surface. It almost looked like a mockery of a futuristic mechanical device, a transporter--if this society had technology like that, it dwarfed his.
|
|
|
Post by surfersquid on Jan 1, 2010 23:53:43 GMT -5
Menefr wanted to say something snide in reply to the male, but nothing good really came to mind. Thankfully, the other female stepped in. Although her comment wasn't any more helpful. She narrowed her eyes at this woman who called herself Lyn.
"'Human'?" she asked, her voice sliding out smooth and deep, with a sharp edge that could easily escalate into a yowl if pitched properly. For now, though, her speech held a tone of detached curiosity. "What is a 'human'?"
This woman was older, Menefr could tell that much from the lines in her face and her silvering hair. She seemed to be a warrior, to some degree, though her rather tremulous attitude was not to be commended. Still, she was Menefr's elder, and had not openly provoked the panther, so there was no need to be hostile toward her. She spoke of strange things, used odd terms such as "guide" and "clan". Well, the concept of the clan wasn't too foreign to Menefr - she knew of several cultures that were clan-based - but still, these people were...unrelentingly strange. It was discomforting. Agitating.
And she did not like being indirectly referred to as a demon.
"I am no demon," she said quietly, rage seething just beneath the surface, although she really looked somewhat pouty, like an upset child (not that she realized this).
She wouldn't give these people the benefit of knowing her name, though. Names were powerful things. If someone knew your name, they had that much more power over you. And Menefr preferred absolute freedom.
|
|
|
Post by SilverSergyon13 on Jan 2, 2010 0:20:23 GMT -5
Marcus felt a bit comforted as the woman called Lyn moved closer to him. At least he wouldn't have to worry about her jumping at his throat. He relaxed slightly.
"Lyn is right. I think we all need to calm down. For whatever reason we all ended up in this room together, and I highly doubt the intended reason was to rip eachother's heads off. My name is Marcus. I am also..." The next word caught briefly in his throat. "Human."
He wasn't quite sure how to explain exactly what a human was so he decided to leave the question hanging.
He looked at each of figures standing in front of him. He half expected the red man to pull out a pillow case and exclaim "Trick or Treat". Marcus smirked. He glanced at the cat woman and snickered almost silently. She may not be human, but her expressions were human enough. Although threatening, he could tell she was just as confused as the rest of them. Like a child, he thought.
As the minutes progressed, Marcus became more and more convinced that this was all just some very strange and twisted dream. It sure beat blowing up terminators though. At least fighting with something of flesh and blood would be a nice reprise.
|
|
|
Post by Cy Skywalker on Jan 2, 2010 1:33:38 GMT -5
Hearing that the panther didn't know what human was was like the first time Lyn had talked to a girl boarding in Blackhail, saying she'd never been there before--it was giving a new perspective to a place Lyn always thought of as old. But Marcus was right; they needed to be calm. And hearing the panther speak, seeing the lips move around those fangs, made her more certain that she was as sentient as Lyn herself. Animals did not do such things with so much purpose.
Demons might, but...she'd never heard of one being offended by its name.
And something about the other's face spoke of fear of the dark, like she just wanted to understand...like they all did.
"I apologize for any offense," Lyn said. "Human..." lost for words, she gestured down her body. 'We have tan skin, usually, and...live in groups, and..." she glanced at Marcus for help. She didn't think the others wanted to here we make good pie,which was what kept running through her head. And so much of what defined her, her religion, didn't seem to make sense here. Were the stone gods watching over her here? Marcus had no lore, no sign of clan allegiance. But she would have to trust him for now.
|
|
|
Post by Morndakiél on Jan 2, 2010 1:50:11 GMT -5
Maul couldn't keep his expression from curling with distaste when the other asked what humans were. Backwater species, so ignorant...he thought that he would keep the name of demon if he was given.
And then they clumsily started to explain.
"Human," Maul said, fed up. 'Mammalian, primate, carbon-based. Common as rats."
|
|
|
Post by SilverSergyon13 on Jan 4, 2010 13:20:58 GMT -5
Marcus turned his head to look at the strange "demon". Funny Lyn should call him that...he certainly looked the part. He couldn't believe the turd's half wit attempt at an insult!
"What does that make you, devil boy? Maybe I should give you a taste of this carbon-based fury...See how ya like it."
Marcus grinned. Carbon-based fury....sometimes he cracked himself up.
|
|
|
Post by Morndakiél on Jan 6, 2010 3:49:59 GMT -5
Darth Maul could have said many things. He could have spoken of his species, the Iridonian Zabraks, whose traditions he would have called 'proud' if asked but whom he knew little more about than he did any species that he had studied in order to make killing them easier. He could have spoken of the proud legacy of the Sith, but those were mere words, and common citizens did not understand them--not yet. One day they would know the power of the Sith and fear to mock its myrmidons. But for now...
Now he would get the fight that he had wanted ever since his first step onto this strange new world.
One lightsaber blade activated at his side, Maul took off toward his new favourite target at a sprint, ignoring the blaster he held, ready to sweep his blade up and take the human's head off.
|
|
|
Post by surfersquid on Jan 6, 2010 14:15:16 GMT -5
Menefr nodded at Lyn in acceptance of her apology. It wasn't often the panther was apologized to. It was nice. The woman's attempted explanation of what a human was just added more confusion to the situation, though. Most people Menefr knew lived in groups; in fact, she was uncommon for being so solitary. And the tan skin thing was rather obvious.
The red-and-black-skinned "demon" (which seemed to be a rather apt name for him, she thought) didn't really help either. He tossed about strange and complicated-sounding words, and she didn't really know how to reply to his last comment because it was blatantly untrue--she'd never seen a human before in her life before this day. (She had, however, met plenty of rats, and thought humans didn't really resemble them in the slightest.)
Her ears flicked back and her fur bristled when the demon suddenly rushed toward the male human. As much as she would have loved to watch two males slaughter each other and thus decrease the population of their gender, the demon was attacking in anger, not defense, and thus Menefr knew she had to aid this human man, who didn't seem to have any useful physiology such as fangs or claws to assist him against the demon's strange fire-sword. Not to mention fighting excited her far more than just standing around talking.
She dashed forward and swung her staff at the demon's shins, hoping to sweep him off balance and wondering if he would be smart and quick enough to do anything about it. From the way he moved, she could tell he was a warrior. She wanted to see just how good a warrior.
|
|
|
Post by SilverSergyon13 on Jan 6, 2010 21:02:52 GMT -5
Marcus hardly had enough time to think. He saw the strange light sword expand at this creature's side and before he knew it, the red demon was hurtling towards him.
Marcus ducked under the swing of the saber. He quickly spun around to face his attacker at the same time the cat woman went for the shins. He didn't have enough time to grab his pistol and instead attempted to disarm the devil by grabbing for his wielding arm. His other hand balled into a fist and punched the air where he expected the demon's head to be.
This was certainly shaping up to be an interesting day.
|
|