[shoma!!! charles rolled a 12 so he is not a graceful swan down these stairs, slipping at least once, but he manages to catch himself relatively well enough to prevent anything worse than some bruises.]
You all right, Shoma?
[he holds out a free hand if shoma needs any help with standing or moving, but he's also glancing around, looking for any other possible escape route. a vent, another path—something to shake off this mass of heads and tendrils and flesh.]
[ shoma just falls down the stairs and each strike is rough, stone-hard. but he manages to keep himself together. the helmet cracks, and the air in here begins to seep in - truly fetid and rank, amplified now. charles joins him, catches right up to where he bouncy-balled down to the bottom-most floor again.
the tendrils and the beast itself is roaring now with the discordant sound of hundreds of voices.
something gelatinous slurps in from another direction, carrying with it a figure that is fucking fighting like hell. a few rogue plasma blasts sear forward and hit the creature on the stairs. ]
Shoma—! Cha—!
[ io, comes hurtling in, trapped in a fucking moving, writhing mass of tentacles that is surging forward. but he to fire off twice into the beast following charles and shoma instead, then fires again into the beast that has him before a tendril grabs his wrist tightly and cocks it back. but and at least he gets it to startle a little. he's helmetless, tentacles sliding over his face to try and take him in, but he clings tightly for purchase on misshapen bone and cartilage, digging fingers into dozens of indiscernible faces. ]
Run! [ there's... nowhere else to go. the beast on the stairs is stunned, but it's oozing... slowly... towards you while the other beast made of heads begins to swarm.
you are herded, trapped, not an intention, but a plan because there's nowhere else to go, because this thing is swarming the walls now, crawling and spreading like gelatinous mold over the walls, the floors...
the only thing open to you is the hall right. the only place not swarmed with these things. the big, open-mouthed cavern that temenos and keith had gone down. let's hope that's not a dead end!
[ NO NOT THE SMELL HE'S GONNA DIE (metaphorically. well maybe physically too.) it's manageable for now, and he's up even though everything is sore beyond belief and he's going to be extremely bruised and one of his ankles is definitely twisted but walkable.
none of that matters because theres's charles behind him, and then suddenly the familiar voice. the creature on the stairs is stunned, and they're slowly surrounded, and everything's loud but he can still pick up on io saying run, so-- ]
No! [ YOU STUPID COW WE ARE NOT LEAVING? RIGHT? CHARLES WE AREN'T LEAVING RIGHT???? everything's slowing boxing them in and herding them back down the hall, and yet he's looking at the horrific monstrosity holding onto io. ] We have to get him back!
[ but he's not always the best at risk assessment, and even if he has a gun in his hand he's leaving this up to charles. where he leads, shoma will follow. ]
this kind of decision is always one that charles dislikes making—pragmatism versus compassion. he is not someone who can say he always leans on one spectrum consistently. an idealist, but also someone who favours practicality, knowing that kindness alone does not get results.
he can't even tell shoma to run alone, not sure of what he'll face or if he can reach temenos and keith in time, particularly with his ankle. everything is bad!!]
Shoma, try and keep this—thing at bay!
[he cuts at what he can, but the important thing is that he's trying to reach for io, to see if he can free him from the mass of tentacles at all.]
charles cleaves with his sword mightily. this thing cuts like disgusting, rancid butter, its innards like rotten, marbled meat. black motes flood forth and the thing shrieks. a sharp searing noise is fired again, io's arm surfacing up from the jelly mass of tentacles and aiming haphazardly at the "open wounds."
a harrowing voice surfaces, the room... shakes. the ceiling... begins to crumble downwards. the stunned beast at the top of the stairs begins to climb at mach fuck, shoma you better shoot your shot! ]
IS CLEAVING A SELF-SAME BODY IN TWAIN NOT A KINDNESS TO US!?
[ warbling with thousands of voice... the thing splits from the seam charles has cleaved, and at the very least io drops out of it like a wet fish covered in goop, scrambling back slippery on his feet, gasping and clinging to his pistol. ]
[ oh good. we are going to die. charles says to keep the creature on the stairs at bay so they can try to save io, and his eyes are watering a little as the stifling, offensive smell filters into his helmet. but the important thing is to get all three of them out there. he hears the sound of a slice behind him, and the room shakes and he's immediately onguard. he moves, trying to avoid any of the ceiling actually caving on him before he's grabbing the plasma gun again to shoot his shot as this thing moves at mach fuck.
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
IS THIS A KINDNESS? IS IT. IT FEELS LIKE ALL OPTIONS ARE BAD HERE. but he's hoping it's enough to at least give charles and io time to get up so the three of them can book it. ]
[he yells at nothing in particular but please!!! but io has been freed, so it's time to run. charles will help him get back on his feet/move if need be but uh LET'S GO PROBABLY]
[ shoma shoots his shot and the thing recoils a moment as it strikes it right in the eye of one of its faces. a gush of pus and blood slides forward as it stumbles a bit, oozing off the edge of the steps, thrown off balance. but because it's liquidy... yeah. yeah it's just oozing like oobleck. thankfully it seems to be stunned for a second.
io's fine, he'll get up on his own, metal leg sliding the ooze but he's fine, just burnt a bit, his suit melted in some places. he fires at the beast on the stairs once more to give shoma time to be helped up so they can fucking book it. the beasts are both... not exactly stunned, but they seem to be pausing in their actions, wavering. moaning, shuddering. the area trembles again, dusty concrete beginning to tumble downwards faster, filling the room with dust that clings to the muck and blood. the beast is struck with a few errant chunks, some big, some small.
and that seems to but you all time... to get going into the only exit left: the maw of a hallway that is slowly becoming fragile as well, fractures becoming apparent. io yells: ]
We're doing something! [ nice. he is probably never going to shoot this well again, and he's not even waiting to see what happens when the fountain of pus and blood erupts from this thing. io's fine, charles, is fine, and the area they're in is very much not fine. with both creatures temporarily stalled he's up and he's booking it to join them.
we're moving! we are all absolutely moving to head down the hall where the others are, and he's only pausing to make sure charles and io are behind him. onward! ]
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You all right, Shoma?
[he holds out a free hand if shoma needs any help with standing or moving, but he's also glancing around, looking for any other possible escape route. a vent, another path—something to shake off this mass of heads and tendrils and flesh.]
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the tendrils and the beast itself is roaring now with the discordant sound of hundreds of voices.
something gelatinous slurps in from another direction, carrying with it a figure that is fucking fighting like hell. a few rogue plasma blasts sear forward and hit the creature on the stairs. ]
Shoma—! Cha—!
[ io, comes hurtling in, trapped in a fucking moving, writhing mass of tentacles that is surging forward. but he to fire off twice into the beast following charles and shoma instead, then fires again into the beast that has him before a tendril grabs his wrist tightly and cocks it back. but and at least he gets it to startle a little. he's helmetless, tentacles sliding over his face to try and take him in, but he clings tightly for purchase on misshapen bone and cartilage, digging fingers into dozens of indiscernible faces. ]
Run! [ there's... nowhere else to go. the beast on the stairs is stunned, but it's oozing... slowly... towards you while the other beast made of heads begins to swarm.
you are herded, trapped, not an intention, but a plan because there's nowhere else to go, because this thing is swarming the walls now, crawling and spreading like gelatinous mold over the walls, the floors...
the only thing open to you is the hall right. the only place not swarmed with these things. the big, open-mouthed cavern that temenos and keith had gone down. let's hope that's not a dead end!
haha]no subject
none of that matters because theres's charles behind him, and then suddenly the familiar voice. the creature on the stairs is stunned, and they're slowly surrounded, and everything's loud but he can still pick up on io saying run, so-- ]
No! [ YOU STUPID COW WE ARE NOT LEAVING? RIGHT? CHARLES WE AREN'T LEAVING RIGHT???? everything's slowing boxing them in and herding them back down the hall, and yet he's looking at the horrific monstrosity holding onto io. ] We have to get him back!
[ but he's not always the best at risk assessment, and even if he has a gun in his hand he's leaving this up to charles. where he leads, shoma will follow. ]
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this kind of decision is always one that charles dislikes making—pragmatism versus compassion. he is not someone who can say he always leans on one spectrum consistently. an idealist, but also someone who favours practicality, knowing that kindness alone does not get results.
he can't even tell shoma to run alone, not sure of what he'll face or if he can reach temenos and keith in time, particularly with his ankle. everything is bad!!]
Shoma, try and keep this—thing at bay!
[he cuts at what he can, but the important thing is that he's trying to reach for io, to see if he can free him from the mass of tentacles at all.]
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charles cleaves with his sword mightily. this thing cuts like disgusting, rancid butter, its innards like rotten, marbled meat. black motes flood forth and the thing shrieks. a sharp searing noise is fired again, io's arm surfacing up from the jelly mass of tentacles and aiming haphazardly at the "open wounds."
a harrowing voice surfaces, the room... shakes. the ceiling... begins to crumble downwards. the stunned beast at the top of the stairs begins to climb at mach fuck, shoma you better shoot your shot! ]
IS CLEAVING A SELF-SAME BODY IN TWAIN NOT A KINDNESS TO US!?
[ warbling with thousands of voice... the thing splits from the seam charles has cleaved, and at the very least io drops out of it like a wet fish covered in goop, scrambling back slippery on his feet, gasping and clinging to his pistol. ]
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fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
IS THIS A KINDNESS? IS IT. IT FEELS LIKE ALL OPTIONS ARE BAD HERE. but he's hoping it's enough to at least give charles and io time to get up so the three of them can book it. ]
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[he yells at nothing in particular but please!!! but io has been freed, so it's time to run. charles will help him get back on his feet/move if need be but uh LET'S GO PROBABLY]
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io's fine, he'll get up on his own, metal leg sliding the ooze but he's fine, just burnt a bit, his suit melted in some places. he fires at the beast on the stairs once more to give shoma time to be helped up so they can fucking book it. the beasts are both... not exactly stunned, but they seem to be pausing in their actions, wavering. moaning, shuddering. the area trembles again, dusty concrete beginning to tumble downwards faster, filling the room with dust that clings to the muck and blood. the beast is struck with a few errant chunks, some big, some small.
and that seems to but you all time... to get going into the only exit left: the maw of a hallway that is slowly becoming fragile as well, fractures becoming apparent. io yells: ]
Sure fucking are—
[ aaaaaa ]
Let's move! Now!
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we're moving! we are all absolutely moving to head down the hall where the others are, and he's only pausing to make sure charles and io are behind him. onward! ]
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