in the end, it's as it should be. reality is cruel and cold - dreams are just that, dreams. go figure it's the sensation that something was nice is what snaps temenos out of it, right? because that life is an impossible one. it all fades away in an instant, and whatever emotional brainspace he could have possibly had to devote to it is immediately taken away by being eaten, which, like, frankly, is preferable!
the crushing pain, he thinks, is maybe navigable. he's not very strong, but he doesn't have to move far - if he can just get his staff. if he can just get his staff, it's just like the heartseed. all he has to do is get to it, cast a divine effulgence, blow the rest of his magic and destroy this thing from the inside. teeth gritted, he tries, tries - and then the muscle is ripped apart by doctor io, baring the light with surgical precision, and the pathway is open.
it's enough. temenos is near the front, he thinks, maybe? it's enough to start to widen, it's enough for movement, and he manages to shove a hand backwards towards whoever's the closest nearby, because he's not leaving without the others, and then starts to go for io like asked. daisy chain of gross... ]
[yeah, more pressing than the dream is that being trapped like this really isn't pleasant, even for someone who doesn't consider himself claustrophobic. he'd rather not be digested today or any day, thanks.
charles struggles against the confined space, trying to ignore the burn, or the way his vision flickers. lightning begins to spark from his hands—ah, there's io. letting the electricity fade now, before he accidentally electrocutes someone. he lets out a little laugh of relief, despite the grimness of the situation.]
You're a voice for sore ears, Io!
[as the gap widens, he tries harder to go for his dagger in hopes of cutting away any membrane that might impede them, to make it easier for everyone else to grab on.]
[ the good thing is that being ripped out of the dream itself isn't actually terrible, because it's not like he ever expected things to truthfully be that way.
the bad thing is being ripped out of the dream and brought here is bad. it's bad! it's so bad, and even if he's not exactly claustrophobic himself this is definitely making a good case for it. as the smallest and without much strength backing him, shoma finds himself trying to struggle ahead but with little avail. he doesn't have enough to wretch himself away from the confines, burning licking its way all around his body and his own vision in his left eye starts to give out, watery and blurred and burning on its own. he doesn't have a weapon he can reach, nor does he have magic, but he can at least hear the others. he can hear io and charles, he can vaguely see the outline of temenos's hand trying to reach for the others, and it's with that that he begins to pull harder against what has him bound to try and rip away and get closer to the opening.
granted he's still bruised as shit and this is really just a bad situation all around, but we're trying. ]
his eyes snap open or well... one does, the left squeezes shut, full of blood and viscera. acid leaking onto the right side of his face and running down to his shoulder. every slash and bruise has reappeared, but did they ever really go away. no.
was that dream ever really real. no. just a far off fantasy, one where his life isn't a mess and the world isn't on fire. and they aren't trapped on some damn ship for eight weeks, worrying about who will die next. and even if it was real... he wouldn't want it. nothing is perfect and he prefers it that way.
there's light and there's io. they have a way out of the belly of this beast. if only he could reach his blade, fuck the plasma sword. he needs what he's familiar with. ]
Ugh-! Stay together... !
[ grabbing onto shoma, as they all daisy chain their way out of this monster. IT SUCKS IN HERE. ]
Real shit... and we're in it now. Out... out... there you go...
[ a few things now… as you get out of the gross vore peapod together. yicky.
your current statuses thanks to your rolls:
temenos: with a 6, 7, 14, the last number saves you from the same fate. while you come out hungry for air, there’s damage on the freshly-aided wounds from before the fall again. rats, rats, and more rats. the light from your staff, as soon as it kisses the air… flickers. without your heed. it doesn’t seem to be drawing anything from you… how lucky…? perhaps, on the way down, you received an answer as you tumbled. you were not abandoned. only lost. add fuel to your fire with it in the way you know how. the voice of roi doesn't leave you, not for a second. is that a good or a bad thing?
charles: with 12, 14, 10, you have survived, but you have not been spared. you swear you can see alaune one moment, with a sad, somber look on her face (why couldn’t you stay? why couldn’t you? just a little longer - you promised. it’s mildly unsettling in the way nails on a chalkboard stone might sound to your ears, but as a sensation on your brain. however, this isn’t your first rodeo, which means that you… you can handle it. because you always handle it. just like you’ll handle this now. you… can handle it, right? your chest hurts (or is it your heart?)
shoma: with a 2, 1, 2, you come out of the pod and you swear that you can hear the whispers of mizuki’s voice, non-centralized around you. all over. however, it’s fast and monotone. it’s unsettlingly not like mizuki… it whispers in and out of your ears. you probably have… the most acid damage of everyone. you were somewhat saved because your suit took a lot of the brunt of it, but your arm hurts the worst. anywhere that isn't healed aches. your lungs… burn. it’s survivable, but wholly unpleasant.
keith: with 13, 17, 2, you started off strong and… now we are here. as soon as you manage to wriggle your wait from the tail end of whatever the hell is holding onto you, you stumble. there’s a muffled noise behind you, a little whine as boom. kosmo comes wriggling out behind, his fur slick and his teeth bared as he clambers and claws his way out. your head hurts, it really fucking hurts, and every time you look around, there’s an occasional glitchy buzz to your vision (only on occasion).
you are here now in the hole, but at least the hole isn't... dark. rather. there are striations of faint light in the walls and on the ground, like veins of dull pulsing gold, all of them threading together towards what looks like another long, dark passage, more like a burrow, a place for a beast to hide.
it's silent now save for the crunching of bones. crunch... crunch... crunch...
there's no way back up. there's a little fizzling noise when kosmo maybe even tries to teleport back up on instinct. he just stands there, his ears swiveling towards the burrow passage. io just kind of looks like he wants to die with some acid burns on his face and part of his leg's frame partially broken off, but he's still standing. he holds a bone-like knife in his hand tightly, the other holding the pistol now with its remaining shots. ]
[ well, that was unpleasant!!!! but at least everyone's still alive. temenos glances around the group once they've been freed from being vored, sweeping across injuries and the general state of the party. he's... fine, he's had worse, and if there's a familiar voice, well, it's nothing that strange. why not be haunted? it's not even the first time. as ever, he shakes it off like it's never even happened, dropping the dreamlike for the sake of the logical and the real in front of him, instead. the sound of bones, crunching, and the darkness in front of them. a smaller group, injured and shaken, and smelling to the high heavens, probably, but alive.
temenos takes the moment to take stock of his magic, too, feeling out the connection to the sacred flame. tenuous as it is, at least it's there. ]
Is everyone alright? I still have enough energy to heal again, should we need it.
[ though... anything more than that might be pushing it. somehow, he has the feeling this is not just going to be a fun little walk in the park down the tunnel....
he looks down the tunnel, and holds out his lit staff towards it, to see if they can't just see a little further down the passageway. ]
I don't suppose that was the seed we have to destroy, Io. [ he murmurs, a little dryly, looking back towards their. fleshy former vore prison. uegh. ] Belly of the beast, indeed.
[he'll handle it. of course he will—as though there's any other option, especially at this point. just like how if one more of his friends on death row tells him that they want him to live or that he has to or they'll mcfuckin lose it he's going to ask the senior crew for access to bonk them on the head.
after taking a moment to rub at one of his eyes, he checks for his weapons, as well as the heal gun. phew, still there and not digested.]
Save your magic for now. If need be, we still have the heal guns. Anyone need one right now?
[he turns his gaze to the burrow with a smile, simultaneously vigilant and as easygoing as ever.]
[ out of the frying pan, into the fire. or in this case, out of the belly, into the--erm, well, never mind.
they're out from their fucked up peapod of vore and shoma is...mostly trying to stay upright. his eyes are closed and his head's busy spinning as he hears the sound of mizuki (not mizuki, something worse) and the crunching bones and every single part of him screams in pain from a combination of bruises and acidic burns. he's unaware that he's shaking a little (probably a nice combination of shock and anxiety, really) and he's wheezing out a few breaths. ow. survivable but unpleasant is right. he forces one eye half-open, the hand on his least fucked-up arm patting for where he kept both of his guns. the plasma pistol seems okay, but...well. the heal gun's there, but with the fall from earlier, that's hopeless now. ]
Yeah...save it. [ this is about temenos's magic, and he takes another few moments to collect himself before finishing the thought. ] ...sorry. I think my gun's busted. But we're close, right?
[ why is it always vore... he stumbles, not having much time to stabilize himself, before kosmo is wriggling his way out. ]
I've got you buddy. [ catches his dear space wolf. how did he forget kosmo was here... well he's thankful he seems fine, all things considered. and it's now that the drumming in his head hits him like a mac truck. he moves his right hand up, only to hiss in pain at the reopening of his earlier injury. bad enough he already had a scar on that shoulder, now it's back and bigger than ever, extending down across his chest.
he has to shake his head, his one functioning eye buzzing, almost glitching. what the heck man. at least the shake makes it go away? for now. eh.]
I've still got mine, here. [ he reaches for his heal gun and points it at shoma, while steadying him. fires it twice for a moderate heal. ]
[ once everyone has settled themselves - healed what needs healing (only shoma, poor kid), io looks at temenos and gives a very tired look because he sure wishes that were the fucking case, father. ]
Considering the sounds, I think you know the answer already. [ wipes mouth, spits on ground. eugh. ]
Pretty sure we're as close as we can be to the end. Nowhere else to go. So... let's finish this.
[ personas self for one minor heal in the head a little too comfortably.
-
now. we are just gonna get this party started. it is time to press forward once the group is ready. as they move, they'll see the burrow itself is barely lit, these striations continuing to vaguely illuminate, but dimming the further inside, the pulsing continuing more and more.
at the end of it is... of course... a cavern, circular with what look to be strange fountains made from earth and stone around the place, oozing thick, dark liquid in spurts into their pools. the coppery scent on the air tells you that it's blood, as well. they are each flanked by torches within reaching distance. you can see signs that humans... have been here. have worked here. old footprints, old tools on the ground (picks, shovels, etc. ripe for the bludgeoning of things) but... that's not the most important part, of course.
in front of you… a monstrosity leers down with it's enormous, main head, cascading down it's bloated body are faces and limbs, fatted off the bodies it has eaten. there are steer horns here on the ground, cattle skulls, and the bones of people... including skulls. you can see it, the tortured faces of the girl and the man stuck on this bloated body, and what’s worse, the tortured faces of the workers you have seen - butchers and washing woman alike.
there’s a bulbous gathering of fibers to the leftmost arm, with a large series of bulging, bubbly muscles, another to the rightmost one, which is long and spindly with claw-like fingers. there's a third arm, dead center of it with black-tipped fingers, and then... there's its head, which you can more than easily bait downwards by being your delicious, annoying selves. it snarls down at you because how the literal fuck did you get out of the roots? how did you pull yourselves out of bliss?
sheer fucking spite, perhaps.
as it roars, the ceiling shivers, but doesn't threaten to break like the concrete. it's made of sterner stuff. for the moment, it looks like it's shocked, clicking its too-flat teeth, observing you as it stretches out its palms to brace itself, digging into the ground. in a voice of hundreds, no, thousands... 1,800 voices. ]
Merge with us. Return to us. We love you. Don't split off. You hurt without us just as much as I hurt, torn out of you… Return to our body, our body is our people…
Hey, don't you think you've overeaten a little here? Think it's about time for that stomachache to hit you...
[i'm like i don't know if this is actually an ability or just charles being inspirational but can he (checks notes) Impart Entire Front Row with Phys. Atk. Up 20% and raise Sword and Polearm damage by 20%
anyway. first thing actually is that he'll grab one of the torches and toss it at the monstrosity to see how effective that is at all. when in doubt, just set things on fire!!
but after that attempt, he is a swordsman first and foremost, so. using his speed, he will try and keep the monster distracted while avoiding what he can so that the more long range fighters can do their thing, hopefully. he's aiming largely for its arms with his sword with the intent of crippling it even a little, and for its head when he can. slash slash hack etc. i am GREAT at fight scenes, can you tell.]
this is the most normal thing we've experienced here so far! like, giant, horrifying monsters? absolutely fine. sometimes you're a jrpg. the only immediate reaction on temenos' face is like a brief furrow of his eyebrows and a frown as they come upon this....monstrosity, and he can't not run his mouth, so: ]
Hurt more.
[ anyway we've not classed into scholar here so we have no weaknesses but you know what we do have? hot, burning holy light and a well of mana that's still fairly decent in size. in a situation where he was less concerned about the amount he had left - a situation with castti here, perhaps - would call for a luminescence, but this is going to be about precision. so.
idk where everyone is targeting but being a distance caster means staying the fuck away from those arms and going for the big one to try and bring that head down some for the others with closer weapons: ]
Holy light, illuminate the darkness. [ and calls up the sacred flame, then drops a holy light spell on its head. ]
[ well. cool. this is absolutely not great, actually. keith's gun heals him enough to at least be able to breathe and walk and keep up with the rest, and he frowns deeply at the idea that they're close to the source.
and so he follows. he follows behind everyone else, fixated on the barely-illuminated walls of the burrow and pressing forward into the opening.
he doesn't have much time to take in the room itself, though it isn't hard to see the overall picture. this is a sacrificial hole after all, people and animals who've been worked to the bone only to be chosen to die (or failed to escape.) the fountain of blood doesn't help the picture, and he's letting himself sweep over the tools on the ground before the monster…you know. does as monsters do and makes itself known. HELLO. OH GOD THIS IS THE SHIT NIGHTMARES ARE MADE OF.
but it is, in fact, spite that has led them here and even when it roars its deafening cry he listens to the wailing of hundreds of voices.
yeah. yeah no. if he's not assimilating with the ship, like hell is he merging with this thing.
there's a brief glance at everyone else before he forces himself to move. if he stays still, that's it, it's over. at least this way he can try to do something. it's hard when he can't quite get his left eye to stay all the way open, and it's equally hard when the acidic burns itch and pull at his skin but it doesn't stop him from moving ahead for a pick to try and fling it like a throwing axe into the rightmost arm, an attempt to render it useless and pin down those claws while grabbing for his plasma pistol in an attempt to shoot one of its eyes. ]
[ ya know. he's seen all kinds of monsters, but this. this might be the monsters of all monsters. because WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!!!???? ]
We're not returning shit!
[ adrenaline sure is an amazing thing, as he takes his knife in one hand and his plasma blade in the other. bum arm/shoulder? blood filled eye?? what about em!! it could be worse, surely. he pushes the pain, the burning and the itching down. away. just operating out of pure spite. any and all survival instincts kicking in.
he darts forward, kosmo beside him, and aims to deliver an onslaught of slashes. if he and charles can act as annoying flies that just won't get out of your face, that'll leave an opening for the other two. then hopefully lead to both melee fighters hitting harder. catch this thing off guard as best they can.
and ya know what's even more annoying. a space wolf that can blip all around the damn place. and it's not just keith, kosmo can and will assist charles as well. confuse the shit out of this thing!! ]
[ if you will not assimilate, if you will not become part of the whole, then you must die. like a virus, like a foreign pathogen, you must be expelled.
everyone's physical damage gets buffed as hell by charles. enjoy the surge of strength that suddenly fills you all. a great start. you'll notice with the combination of the fire from the torch being thrown and the holy light, the beast does not like that, though the torch is at least snuffable for it - the way it oozes over the top of it and it smothers the flame completely. annoying! however, the holy light is not something it can smother, and it shrieks and rises up to try and curl back.
the holy light burns its flesh - and the scent of charred rotting meat fills the room. this does stun it enough with the surprise of how it suddenly burst forth at the behest of that little twinky priest. the pick makes landfall in arm number 2, pinning it to the ground for the moment and as it's distracted shoma can hit one of its eyes...
though a face from its body just slides upwards towards its face..... and takes the place of the whole eye.
and it lashes out in turn for a tentacle attack, though some of the tentacles on shoma's side are swarming to remove the pick with a snarl. this thing is powerful, but it's meant to stay underground for a reason. things that hide... are both dangerous, but fragile. and you guys happen to have the power of god and anime on your sides. that and charles and keith are playing at being annoying flies, hitting its arms and keeping them all busy for the time being. it's a good tactic.
however. it launches tentacles everywhere with a tentacle attack, trying to grasp you by the limb or torso to draw you in to slam you to the ground, delivering some nasty bludgeoning damage and slamming you into the soft earthy, meaty ground... you can roll to avoid a tentacle bash (dc 15, add dex, shoma you have advantage because it's removing the pick from its paw.) ]
Edited (HELLO THE REST OF MY TEXT) 2024-04-11 01:26 (UTC)
well. 18+1 is a 19 so i guess he manages to dodge out of the way of getting tentacle bashed, and casts another holy light right in this thing's face. eat shit ]
[i don't remember dex bonuses i think it was like +3 with charles's dex? but either way i got a 9 so i don't think he passes
he is getting slammed to the ground! at least he's not falling into a hole this time. as he takes a moment to reorient himself, though, he fires a bolt of lightning in the monster's direction from the ground.]
[ first of all, gross! gross, gross, gross!!!! he is going to become a vegetarian after this, swear to god.
but the light's a good sign, and he's grateful for the way the fire and the holy light banish the creature for a few moments and the holy light burns its flesh. the pick drives into the arm to stall and he takes out an eye. granted, he immediately yells out in surprise when it's replaced by a whole face.
bad. badbadbad.
the tentacles lash out and with his nat 20 and also advantage i guess, jesus, he's able to dodge them. the immediate response is to shoot it again, aiming directly for the meat of the arm itself to try and render that useless. and he's darting ahead to grab a shovel to attempt cleaving down on another tentacle that's going for whoever's about to get their shit wrecked. he's fine? adrenaline's helping. this is the best he can do, and he's 100% not paying attention to the fact he only has one shot left of his plasma gun. but i am. ]
[ oh. bad. 5+4 is a 9, so he does not pass, even with his high dex. rip.
the tentacle wraps around him, picking him and and slamming him right back down. his grip on the plasma blade gets completely fcked, as his bad shoulder gets wacked. goodbye. his head already hurts, what's some more!! turns out you can concuss what's already concussed!! wow!!
with the fuzziness in his head, from the bashing, and the glitching of his vision... he sure does make an attempt to stab the tentacle with his marmora blade. LET GO BINCH!! ]
[ LET THERE BE MORE LIGHT! FUCK OFFFFF! and indeed the creature singes once more, releasing that foul, disgusting smell. the lightning strike hits the creature and with that combined, some of its tentacles slither downwards to dip into one of the strange, blood fountains, the red fluid snaking up its tentacles and starting to restore some of the area that has been kissed by the holy light.
it does let go of charles (WHY'S IT SPICY!?), but then moves with the arm 3 (black claw) to rake over the source of the holy light attack again! temenos (dc 16), it's hand is covered in black motes, and there's a sickliness from it that tells you without missing a beat that this is a diseased-looking limb... so diseased, it's festering.
it doesn't let go of keith just yet, even as he stabs with his knife, though it does shriek in annoyance. however shoma, your shovel finds purchase in one of the tentacles holding keith, which is actually pretty great. not before the slam that has keith getting a concussion sandwich, but at least the creature isn't going to be fucking picking him up for the time being as you sever enough tentacles for the gelatinous texture to sag and tear from his weight. you're free!
(there's a crashing sound and it seems like io is grabbing a pick from the ground and just. bashing into one of the restorative fountains on the other side after seeing that. fuck that noise.)
it takes a chance with its now freed arm 2 (sharp claws) and reaches for a razor sharp raking attack at shoma because of his nat 20 (dc 16).
and it sweeps with arm 1 (muscular arm) to snatch up one of your swordsmen now - charles and keith (dc 13 because it's big and slow). ]
[ every one of my tags is going to end up being (blasts you with holy light) but that is truly just what's happening here. spams the 6 SP holy light button.
alas, this time, temenos doesn't get to aim at the head. because the big gross flesh limb slashes at him and with a seven, he will not be dodging that! so while he's getting his shit rocked, he fires off the holy light spell directly at the hand instead so he can at least counter whatever awful disease he's about to get hit with. or maybe just explode the hand into a thousand pieces. that'd be nice. ]
[ okay well. sorry keith, he tried! he really did try but there was no stopping the tentacle slamming you into the ground. but it's fine. the tentacle's slayed and he has no idea what io is doing and he's not paying attention to anything else because there are claws swiping at him which is not promising! but he has a 14 so he's trying to dodge and fire off his last bullet at the hand, hoping to blow a hole through it to make it stop swiping. ]
[ you're going to feel it... all of you now. the steady hunger, the steady thirst, the steady ache of your tired bones. this place... it's so heavy, it's like the weight of the world is resting right here on its axis. ]
Take my kiss.
[ temenos blasts holy light beacon and gets a raging fever for his hard work, damn! this fever... is the kind that you feel acutely in your body, every crevice, every corner. there's a fire inside of you, and it's not the Flame by any means. it's eating you alive from within. arm 3 is looking much more dark, however, thanks to the blasting. it's fingers are twitching, burnt, because damn THEY DIDN'T ORDER EXTRA HOTS.
the good news is once again... the holy light spells are acting like shotgun slugs, and the beast can't heal forever... one of its wells is dry. one of its wells is destroyed. around the room? there are several poised and full and still ready.
arm 1 bodyslams both keith and charles in one giant fist, their bones colliding together and probably not helping with the pain as they are crushed together by the muscular hand, driving them into the ground. detritus flies up and falls, a mess of picks and shovels, splinters of thick bones - arm bones and leg bones like a rain of sharp projectiles.
one of these projectiles... sinks into charles' chest as it rains down, not dead center, but oh that fucking hurts doesn't it? keith stabs at the grasping appendage and the tentacles surging around it. it manages to let go but it forms a fist and tries to crush you, keith (dc 15, with gravity on its side, heavy and ponderous.)
the arm 2 aiming for shoma claws at him, raking fast from his face, down to his chest, raking downwards with sharpened bone cresting bone, trying to dig, spill blood. it's hungry, and the bone absorbs... what blood it takes, but then a rogue pick gets yeeted into the bony hand with a shout from io's direction because fuck that noise! shoma, your eye... your eye is really fucked up right now. more so than before.
it goes for another fountain, attempting to heal some more holy light damage. ugh. gotta chug the juice blood. ]
no subject
in the end, it's as it should be. reality is cruel and cold - dreams are just that, dreams. go figure it's the sensation that something was nice is what snaps temenos out of it, right? because that life is an impossible one. it all fades away in an instant, and whatever emotional brainspace he could have possibly had to devote to it is immediately taken away by being eaten, which, like, frankly, is preferable!
the crushing pain, he thinks, is maybe navigable. he's not very strong, but he doesn't have to move far - if he can just get his staff. if he can just get his staff, it's just like the heartseed. all he has to do is get to it, cast a divine effulgence, blow the rest of his magic and destroy this thing from the inside. teeth gritted, he tries, tries - and then the muscle is ripped apart by doctor io, baring the light with surgical precision, and the pathway is open.
it's enough. temenos is near the front, he thinks, maybe? it's enough to start to widen, it's enough for movement, and he manages to shove a hand backwards towards whoever's the closest nearby, because he's not leaving without the others, and then starts to go for io like asked. daisy chain of gross... ]
no subject
charles struggles against the confined space, trying to ignore the burn, or the way his vision flickers. lightning begins to spark from his hands—ah, there's io. letting the electricity fade now, before he accidentally electrocutes someone. he lets out a little laugh of relief, despite the grimness of the situation.]
You're a voice for sore ears, Io!
[as the gap widens, he tries harder to go for his dagger in hopes of cutting away any membrane that might impede them, to make it easier for everyone else to grab on.]
no subject
the bad thing is being ripped out of the dream and brought here is bad. it's bad! it's so bad, and even if he's not exactly claustrophobic himself this is definitely making a good case for it. as the smallest and without much strength backing him, shoma finds himself trying to struggle ahead but with little avail. he doesn't have enough to wretch himself away from the confines, burning licking its way all around his body and his own vision in his left eye starts to give out, watery and blurred and burning on its own. he doesn't have a weapon he can reach, nor does he have magic, but he can at least hear the others. he can hear io and charles, he can vaguely see the outline of temenos's hand trying to reach for the others, and it's with that that he begins to pull harder against what has him bound to try and rip away and get closer to the opening.
granted he's still bruised as shit and this is really just a bad situation all around, but we're trying. ]
The hole really was a bad idea! [ UGGGGGGH. ]
no subject
his eyes snap open or well... one does, the left squeezes shut, full of blood and viscera. acid leaking onto the right side of his face and running down to his shoulder. every slash and bruise has reappeared, but did they ever really go away. no.
was that dream ever really real. no. just a far off fantasy, one where his life isn't a mess and the world isn't on fire. and they aren't trapped on some damn ship for eight weeks, worrying about who will die next. and even if it was real... he wouldn't want it. nothing is perfect and he prefers it that way.
there's light and there's io. they have a way out of the belly of this beast. if only he could reach his blade, fuck the plasma sword. he needs what he's familiar with. ]
Ugh-! Stay together... !
[ grabbing onto shoma, as they all daisy chain their way out of this monster. IT SUCKS IN HERE. ]
no subject
[ a few things now… as you get out of the gross vore peapod together. yicky.
your current statuses thanks to your rolls:
temenos: with a 6, 7, 14, the last number saves you from the same fate. while you come out hungry for air, there’s damage on the freshly-aided wounds from before the fall again. rats, rats, and more rats. the light from your staff, as soon as it kisses the air… flickers. without your heed. it doesn’t seem to be drawing anything from you… how lucky…? perhaps, on the way down, you received an answer as you tumbled. you were not abandoned. only lost. add fuel to your fire with it in the way you know how. the voice of roi doesn't leave you, not for a second. is that a good or a bad thing?
charles: with 12, 14, 10, you have survived, but you have not been spared. you swear you can see alaune one moment, with a sad, somber look on her face (why couldn’t you stay? why couldn’t you? just a little longer - you promised. it’s mildly unsettling in the way nails on a chalkboard stone might sound to your ears, but as a sensation on your brain. however, this isn’t your first rodeo, which means that you… you can handle it. because you always handle it. just like you’ll handle this now. you… can handle it, right? your chest hurts (or is it your heart?)
shoma: with a 2, 1, 2, you come out of the pod and you swear that you can hear the whispers of mizuki’s voice, non-centralized around you. all over. however, it’s fast and monotone. it’s unsettlingly not like mizuki… it whispers in and out of your ears. you probably have… the most acid damage of everyone. you were somewhat saved because your suit took a lot of the brunt of it, but your arm hurts the worst. anywhere that isn't healed aches. your lungs… burn. it’s survivable, but wholly unpleasant.
keith: with 13, 17, 2, you started off strong and… now we are here. as soon as you manage to wriggle your wait from the tail end of whatever the hell is holding onto you, you stumble. there’s a muffled noise behind you, a little whine as boom. kosmo comes wriggling out behind, his fur slick and his teeth bared as he clambers and claws his way out. your head hurts, it really fucking hurts, and every time you look around, there’s an occasional glitchy buzz to your vision (only on occasion).
you are here now in the hole, but at least the hole isn't... dark. rather. there are striations of faint light in the walls and on the ground, like veins of dull pulsing gold, all of them threading together towards what looks like another long, dark passage, more like a burrow, a place for a beast to hide.
it's silent now save for the crunching of bones. crunch... crunch... crunch...
there's no way back up. there's a little fizzling noise when kosmo maybe even tries to teleport back up on instinct. he just stands there, his ears swiveling towards the burrow passage. io just kind of looks like he wants to die with some acid burns on his face and part of his leg's frame partially broken off, but he's still standing. he holds a bone-like knife in his hand tightly, the other holding the pistol now with its remaining shots. ]
Belly of the beast... for real now, huh?
no subject
temenos takes the moment to take stock of his magic, too, feeling out the connection to the sacred flame. tenuous as it is, at least it's there. ]
Is everyone alright? I still have enough energy to heal again, should we need it.
[ though... anything more than that might be pushing it. somehow, he has the feeling this is not just going to be a fun little walk in the park down the tunnel....
he looks down the tunnel, and holds out his lit staff towards it, to see if they can't just see a little further down the passageway. ]
I don't suppose that was the seed we have to destroy, Io. [ he murmurs, a little dryly, looking back towards their. fleshy former vore prison. uegh. ] Belly of the beast, indeed.
no subject
after taking a moment to rub at one of his eyes, he checks for his weapons, as well as the heal gun. phew, still there and not digested.]
Save your magic for now. If need be, we still have the heal guns. Anyone need one right now?
[he turns his gaze to the burrow with a smile, simultaneously vigilant and as easygoing as ever.]
Last stretch, hopefully.
no subject
they're out from their fucked up peapod of vore and shoma is...mostly trying to stay upright. his eyes are closed and his head's busy spinning as he hears the sound of mizuki (not mizuki, something worse) and the crunching bones and every single part of him screams in pain from a combination of bruises and acidic burns. he's unaware that he's shaking a little (probably a nice combination of shock and anxiety, really) and he's wheezing out a few breaths. ow. survivable but unpleasant is right. he forces one eye half-open, the hand on his least fucked-up arm patting for where he kept both of his guns. the plasma pistol seems okay, but...well. the heal gun's there, but with the fall from earlier, that's hopeless now. ]
Yeah...save it. [ this is about temenos's magic, and he takes another few moments to collect himself before finishing the thought. ] ...sorry. I think my gun's busted. But we're close, right?
no subject
I've got you buddy. [ catches his dear space wolf. how did he forget kosmo was here... well he's thankful he seems fine, all things considered. and it's now that the drumming in his head hits him like a mac truck. he moves his right hand up, only to hiss in pain at the reopening of his earlier injury. bad enough he already had a scar on that shoulder, now it's back and bigger than ever, extending down across his chest.
he has to shake his head, his one functioning eye buzzing, almost glitching. what the heck man. at least the shake makes it go away? for now. eh.]
I've still got mine, here. [ he reaches for his heal gun and points it at shoma, while steadying him. fires it twice for a moderate heal. ]
That's it for mine.
no subject
Considering the sounds, I think you know the answer already. [ wipes mouth, spits on ground. eugh. ]
Pretty sure we're as close as we can be to the end. Nowhere else to go. So... let's finish this.
[ personas self for one minor heal in the head a little too comfortably.
-
now. we are just gonna get this party started. it is time to press forward once the group is ready. as they move, they'll see the burrow itself is barely lit, these striations continuing to vaguely illuminate, but dimming the further inside, the pulsing continuing more and more.
at the end of it is... of course... a cavern, circular with what look to be strange fountains made from earth and stone around the place, oozing thick, dark liquid in spurts into their pools. the coppery scent on the air tells you that it's blood, as well. they are each flanked by torches within reaching distance. you can see signs that humans... have been here. have worked here. old footprints, old tools on the ground (picks, shovels, etc. ripe for the bludgeoning of things) but... that's not the most important part, of course.
in front of you… a monstrosity leers down with it's enormous, main head, cascading down it's bloated body are faces and limbs, fatted off the bodies it has eaten. there are steer horns here on the ground, cattle skulls, and the bones of people... including skulls. you can see it, the tortured faces of the girl and the man stuck on this bloated body, and what’s worse, the tortured faces of the workers you have seen - butchers and washing woman alike.
there’s a bulbous gathering of fibers to the leftmost arm, with a large series of bulging, bubbly muscles, another to the rightmost one, which is long and spindly with claw-like fingers. there's a third arm, dead center of it with black-tipped fingers, and then... there's its head, which you can more than easily bait downwards by being your delicious, annoying selves. it snarls down at you because how the literal fuck did you get out of the roots? how did you pull yourselves out of bliss?
sheer fucking spite, perhaps.as it roars, the ceiling shivers, but doesn't threaten to break like the concrete. it's made of sterner stuff. for the moment, it looks like it's shocked, clicking its too-flat teeth, observing you as it stretches out its palms to brace itself, digging into the ground. in a voice of hundreds, no, thousands... 1,800 voices. ]
Merge with us. Return to us. We love you. Don't split off. You hurt without us just as much as I hurt, torn out of you… Return to our body, our body is our people…
[ combat can begin. ]
no subject
Hey, don't you think you've overeaten a little here? Think it's about time for that stomachache to hit you...
[i'm like i don't know if this is actually an ability or just charles being inspirational but can he (checks notes) Impart Entire Front Row with Phys. Atk. Up 20% and raise Sword and Polearm damage by 20%
anyway. first thing actually is that he'll grab one of the torches and toss it at the monstrosity to see how effective that is at all. when in doubt, just set things on fire!!
but after that attempt, he is a swordsman first and foremost, so. using his speed, he will try and keep the monster distracted while avoiding what he can so that the more long range fighters can do their thing, hopefully. he's aiming largely for its arms with his sword with the intent of crippling it even a little, and for its head when he can. slash slash hack etc. i am GREAT at fight scenes, can you tell.]
no subject
this is the most normal thing we've experienced here so far! like, giant, horrifying monsters? absolutely fine. sometimes you're a jrpg. the only immediate reaction on temenos' face is like a brief furrow of his eyebrows and a frown as they come upon this....monstrosity, and he can't not run his mouth, so: ]
Hurt more.
[ anyway we've not classed into scholar here so we have no weaknesses but you know what we do have? hot, burning holy light and a well of mana that's still fairly decent in size. in a situation where he was less concerned about the amount he had left - a situation with castti here, perhaps - would call for a luminescence, but this is going to be about precision. so.
idk where everyone is targeting but being a distance caster means staying the fuck away from those arms and going for the big one to try and bring that head down some for the others with closer weapons: ]
Holy light, illuminate the darkness. [ and calls up the sacred flame, then drops a holy light spell on its head. ]
no subject
and so he follows. he follows behind everyone else, fixated on the barely-illuminated walls of the burrow and pressing forward into the opening.
he doesn't have much time to take in the room itself, though it isn't hard to see the overall picture. this is a sacrificial hole after all, people and animals who've been worked to the bone only to be chosen to die (or failed to escape.) the fountain of blood doesn't help the picture, and he's letting himself sweep over the tools on the ground before the monster…you know. does as monsters do and makes itself known. HELLO. OH GOD THIS IS THE SHIT NIGHTMARES ARE MADE OF.
but it is, in fact, spite that has led them here and even when it roars its deafening cry he listens to the wailing of hundreds of voices.
yeah. yeah no. if he's not assimilating with the ship, like hell is he merging with this thing.
there's a brief glance at everyone else before he forces himself to move. if he stays still, that's it, it's over. at least this way he can try to do something. it's hard when he can't quite get his left eye to stay all the way open, and it's equally hard when the acidic burns itch and pull at his skin but it doesn't stop him from moving ahead for a pick to try and fling it like a throwing axe into the rightmost arm, an attempt to render it useless and pin down those claws while grabbing for his plasma pistol in an attempt to shoot one of its eyes. ]
no subject
We're not returning shit!
[ adrenaline sure is an amazing thing, as he takes his knife in one hand and his plasma blade in the other. bum arm/shoulder? blood filled eye?? what about em!! it could be worse, surely. he pushes the pain, the burning and the itching down. away. just operating out of pure spite. any and all survival instincts kicking in.
he darts forward, kosmo beside him, and aims to deliver an onslaught of slashes. if he and charles can act as annoying flies that just won't get out of your face, that'll leave an opening for the other two. then hopefully lead to both melee fighters hitting harder. catch this thing off guard as best they can.
and ya know what's even more annoying. a space wolf that can blip all around the damn place. and it's not just keith, kosmo can and will assist charles as well. confuse the shit out of this thing!! ]
no subject
everyone's physical damage gets buffed as hell by charles. enjoy the surge of strength that suddenly fills you all. a great start. you'll notice with the combination of the fire from the torch being thrown and the holy light, the beast does not like that, though the torch is at least snuffable for it - the way it oozes over the top of it and it smothers the flame completely. annoying! however, the holy light is not something it can smother, and it shrieks and rises up to try and curl back.
the holy light burns its flesh - and the scent of charred rotting meat fills the room. this does stun it enough with the surprise of how it suddenly burst forth at the behest of that little twinky priest. the pick makes landfall in arm number 2, pinning it to the ground for the moment and as it's distracted shoma can hit one of its eyes...
though a face from its body just slides upwards towards its face..... and takes the place of the whole eye.
and it lashes out in turn for a tentacle attack, though some of the tentacles on shoma's side are swarming to remove the pick with a snarl. this thing is powerful, but it's meant to stay underground for a reason. things that hide... are both dangerous, but fragile. and you guys happen to have the power of god and anime on your sides. that and charles and keith are playing at being annoying flies, hitting its arms and keeping them all busy for the time being. it's a good tactic.
however. it launches tentacles everywhere with a tentacle attack, trying to grasp you by the limb or torso to draw you in to slam you to the ground, delivering some nasty bludgeoning damage and slamming you into the soft earthy, meaty ground... you can roll to avoid a tentacle bash (dc 15, add dex, shoma you have advantage because it's removing the pick from its paw.) ]
no subject
well. 18+1 is a 19 so i guess he manages to dodge out of the way of getting tentacle bashed, and casts another holy light right in this thing's face. eat shit ]
no subject
he is getting slammed to the ground! at least he's not falling into a hole this time. as he takes a moment to reorient himself, though, he fires a bolt of lightning in the monster's direction from the ground.]
no subject
but the light's a good sign, and he's grateful for the way the fire and the holy light banish the creature for a few moments and the holy light burns its flesh. the pick drives into the arm to stall and he takes out an eye. granted, he immediately yells out in surprise when it's replaced by a whole face.
bad. badbadbad.
the tentacles lash out and with his nat 20 and also advantage i guess, jesus, he's able to dodge them. the immediate response is to shoot it again, aiming directly for the meat of the arm itself to try and render that useless. and he's darting ahead to grab a shovel to attempt cleaving down on another tentacle that's going for whoever's about to get their shit wrecked. he's fine? adrenaline's helping. this is the best he can do, and he's 100% not paying attention to the fact he only has one shot left of his plasma gun. but i am. ]
no subject
the tentacle wraps around him, picking him and and slamming him right back down. his grip on the plasma blade gets completely fcked, as his bad shoulder gets wacked. goodbye. his head already hurts, what's some more!! turns out you can concuss what's already concussed!! wow!!
with the fuzziness in his head, from the bashing, and the glitching of his vision... he sure does make an attempt to stab the tentacle with his marmora blade. LET GO BINCH!! ]
no subject
it does let go of charles (WHY'S IT SPICY!?), but then moves with the arm 3 (black claw) to rake over the source of the holy light attack again! temenos (dc 16), it's hand is covered in black motes, and there's a sickliness from it that tells you without missing a beat that this is a diseased-looking limb... so diseased, it's festering.
it doesn't let go of keith just yet, even as he stabs with his knife, though it does shriek in annoyance. however shoma, your shovel finds purchase in one of the tentacles holding keith, which is actually pretty great. not before the slam that has keith getting a concussion sandwich, but at least the creature isn't going to be fucking picking him up for the time being as you sever enough tentacles for the gelatinous texture to sag and tear from his weight. you're free!
(there's a crashing sound and it seems like io is grabbing a pick from the ground and just. bashing into one of the restorative fountains on the other side after seeing that. fuck that noise.)
it takes a chance with its now freed arm 2 (sharp claws) and reaches for a razor sharp raking attack at shoma because of his nat 20 (dc 16).
and it sweeps with arm 1 (muscular arm) to snatch up one of your swordsmen now - charles and keith (dc 13 because it's big and slow). ]
no subject
alas, this time, temenos doesn't get to aim at the head. because the big gross flesh limb slashes at him and with a seven, he will not be dodging that! so while he's getting his shit rocked, he fires off the holy light spell directly at the hand instead so he can at least counter whatever awful disease he's about to get hit with. or maybe just explode the hand into a thousand pieces. that'd be nice. ]
no subject
I GUESS CHARLES WAS UNFORTUNATELY STILL REGAINING HIS BEARINGS FROM BEING SLAMMED BECAUSE I ROLLED A 1
but if he's snatched he will at least try to stab this arm with his sword damn it]
no subject
no subject
4+4 is 8 baby so... get rekt idiot.
he can feel his right arm just one bash away from snapping completely. there's a strangled noise he makes as he's rag dolled.
going to just try and slash at the tentacle again, with his knife. ]
no subject
Take my kiss.
[ temenos blasts holy light beacon and gets a raging fever for his hard work, damn! this fever... is the kind that you feel acutely in your body, every crevice, every corner. there's a fire inside of you, and it's not the Flame by any means. it's eating you alive from within. arm 3 is looking much more dark, however, thanks to the blasting. it's fingers are twitching, burnt, because damn THEY DIDN'T ORDER EXTRA HOTS.
the good news is once again... the holy light spells are acting like shotgun slugs, and the beast can't heal forever... one of its wells is dry. one of its wells is destroyed. around the room? there are several poised and full and still ready.
arm 1 bodyslams both keith and charles in one giant fist, their bones colliding together and probably not helping with the pain as they are crushed together by the muscular hand, driving them into the ground. detritus flies up and falls, a mess of picks and shovels, splinters of thick bones - arm bones and leg bones like a rain of sharp projectiles.
one of these projectiles... sinks into charles' chest as it rains down, not dead center, but oh that fucking hurts doesn't it? keith stabs at the grasping appendage and the tentacles surging around it. it manages to let go but it forms a fist and tries to crush you, keith (dc 15, with gravity on its side, heavy and ponderous.)
the arm 2 aiming for shoma claws at him, raking fast from his face, down to his chest, raking downwards with sharpened bone cresting bone, trying to dig, spill blood. it's hungry, and the bone absorbs... what blood it takes, but then a rogue pick gets yeeted into the bony hand with a shout from io's direction because fuck that noise! shoma, your eye... your eye is really fucked up right now. more so than before.
it goes for another fountain, attempting to heal some more holy light damage. ugh. gotta chug the
juiceblood. ](no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
EXEUNT: FROM THE BOWELS OF THE EARTH
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
— MISSION COMPLETE (bidding farewell to a terminal patient)