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 Posted: Sun Aug 05, 2012 7:41 pm
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The cheering had turned for the most part to jeers. The Hunters were talking. This was not fun, it was not entertainment.
Medea stood up. "Lost Clans allies, horsemen, let us have a true conclusion. If these contestants will not fight each other, then we will bend them to our wills. They still think there is hope, and we will crush, tear away every shred they have of it until they understand futility. Until they accept finality from us."
There was a loud roar, just as she moved her wrist slightly, bracelet jangling. The ground beneath the trainees began to peel away, the entire stadium bleed to a dark grey. They were standing on a narrow platform, below them, a pit of black acid, thick and oily. It hissed occasionally, bubbles popping on the liquid surface below, releasing a painful black liquid onto the surface that hurt, burned upon contact.
"Now which of you will be the sacrifice?" The Head Priestess sat down, digging her nails into the surface of her seat. "Which of you heroic, noble Hunters will volunteer yourselves first, and truly, admit defeat to spare the other the same fate? All you have to do is choose one path."
The ground began to crumble dangerously, underneath Wash and Sasha, the liquid, sizzling as it consumed everything below. The answer was simple, after all: there was only one victor.
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Posted: Sun Aug 05, 2012 9:19 pm
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SPECTATOR
As soon as the rock was loosed, Shaheen was already looking away, focusing on the incredibly boring events once more. She kept her gaze firmly fixated on that which she didn't want to really watch anymore, her golden eyes blinking as though in surprise when Shik shouted at her.
Ohhhhhh, but he was really angry now! She might have felt sorry except that she just found it so very funny. Finally, something worth paying attention to, though she couldn't figure out why Shik would be so angry at getting interrupted, considering there was little to watch.
"What are you bellowing on about, Shikoba?" The fact that he had also spun his anger around on Eiseth as well was actually rather amusing. Calling her student a pet was just the icing on the cake.
Shaheen stood up from her seat, giving the student one last look. "Don't mind him. He just gets cranky when his bloodshed quota for the day doesn't get met." She gave Shik the most innocent look she could muster, which was just ridiculous because, well, Shaheen really could not pull off innocent.
At this point she maneuvered her way through he crowd of horsemen, accidentally brushing several with her wings as she moved past, finding the seat directly beside Shik, stepping onto the back of it, then letting herself collapse gracefully beside him, nudging him in the shoulder with her wing.
"Aren't you just a ray of sunshine. How can you even stand to watch this? They aren't doing any----" her words were interrupted when Medea rose and spoke, her attention drawn to the priestess, and then to the arena as it changed.
Ooooooooo, well, that was at least a little better. Still, she had come to see a battle, not a suicidal sacrifice.
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Ravvlet rolled 2 8-sided dice:
6, 3
Total: 9 (2-16)
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Posted: Sun Aug 05, 2012 9:48 pm
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Wash flinched as he felt Sasha's blades lightly graze him, but he held his ground, continuing to glare at the spectators. He could do this. He would do this.
"Wash?"
Damn. He moved his shield, so he could peek around at the girl at his feet. She seemed to have come to- and it couldn't have been a worse time. "You alright now? We're in a bit of a- well. A mess."
Understatement. Before he could continue, the cruel horsewoman from before began to speak. As the ground began to peel away, Wash spread his feet, bracing himself. What hell was this? The floor beneath them quickly faded, revealing a narrow strip of safety surrounded by some horrible boiling liquid. It festered and bubbled, splashing them painfully with a hot, black, tarry substance. There was no apparent escape. He lowered his shield arm, offering his other hand both to help steady the girl and to pull her to her feet.
They might as well meet death standing.
As he did so, he turned to face the crowd- not anyone in particular. They were all letting this happen. They were all evil, one way or another.
"That's no choice, ma'am. To chose to die now, or die later? There's no heroism in that." The soil shook, and he paused, holding his ground, trying to stay away from the roiling liquid. "You can only kill us, ma'am. You can torture, and you can threaten, but the only power you hold over us- is death. And everyone dies, where I come from. One way or another." He spat, and the acid swallowed it up with a hiss.
Did he fear death? Of course. Everyone was afraid to die. They'd promised them freedom - but kept adding conditions, kept stepping back. It was silly to have thought their word could be trusted. Foolish, even. No, their only salvation would come from their fellows, and that took time. The woman, safe in her seat with the others, knew that. They all knew that; until their comrades were ready to ride in for rescue, they were at their mercy, a mercy that had apparenty run out. He was tired of their jeering, tired of the abuse- they weren't going to let Sasha go, not even if he let her cut him to ribbons. They'd just laugh at her, and lock her up again. Mock her for her disloyalty; her perceived cowardice.
He bowed his head for a second, forced himself to ignore the crowds. The ground's quaking. He focused on that voice, dripping words issued like barbs from cruel lips and twisted tongue. He glanced up, scanning the crowds, crouching, swinging his arm back in one swift movement. He would not go quietly into the dark.
Wash threw his shield.
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Posted: Sun Aug 05, 2012 10:14 pm
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bipolar bee rolled 1 8-sided dice:
3
Total: 3 (1-8)
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Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2012 7:06 am
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"I -- oh, God."
The ground rumbled beneath her, and Sasha found herself clinging to Wash to prevent herself from being burned by the acrid liquid that surrounded them. With wide, glassy eyes and trembling hands, Sasha released Wash just long enough to move to her feet with his assistance. If she let her terror pull her under, she could feel the bugs crawling on her skin, in her ears, her hair.
It took all of her effort to keep the frantic, consuming emotion at bay.
Sasha forced herself to ignore the occasional, excruciating pain that came when the liquid splashed her legs - when Wash spoke to Medea, she slipped around him as best she could, enduring a particularly vicious blurp-splash of the black, viscous tar.
When Wash threw his shield, Sasha was there to defend him - weak, wobbly, and tearful - but she was not going to stand idly by.
Quote: HP: 50/50 DEFENDING FOR: 3 TAR: Wash CHG: 1/3 || 0/2
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Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2012 5:25 pm
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One second the Head Priestess was standing on the podium-
- The next she stood in front of the two Hunters. The entire expanse, the peeling landscape, the certain demise underneath, this was all within her domain.
Everything slowed, stilled, only the crowd and the figures within the arena maintaining its pace. The illusion, grey, silent.
"How noble it must feel to die righteously, in spirit, fighting until your light has flickered, until finality claims you and the miserable shard of existence finally quiets itself. How honourable, you think, to die a hero, and feel empowered, able to resist forces you cannot understand nor contain." She sharply turned around, facing Sasha. "Do you agree, young Hunter with your comrade? He has signed your death, so shall you not die for him?"
Everything around them flared a dark, angry red, welts of liquid fire replacing the thicker black oil, bubbling upwards, until it was even with the platform the trainees stood in. It was hot, overbearing, their very skin beginning to blister and burn simply from being inside the cauldron, their insides boiling with agony.
"This is my element," Medea began, pulling Sasha forward, grabbing onto her hair, stronger than the horsewoman's fragile appearance suggested. She yanked the Life trainee forward, pressing her head against the ground, even as the lava began to bubble, crawl, and inch forward towards the trainee's face, "This is my domain."
At first, a soft hiss. And then, the liquid fire, the molten lava found Sasha's skin, hissing louder as it burned right through her skin, into her flesh, turning everything black, exposing hollow bone that continued to burn, decay, muscles shriveling, flames consuming everything else. The screaming, the pain of being burned, melted alive was uncontrollable. Medea continued to push Sasha forward, right into the pit of fire, grappling at her limbs that flailed and flailed, involuntarily - there was no more screaming - her entire head was submerged underneath the lava now-
- For a second the Head Priestess pulled Sasha back, revealing only a black lump of where the trainee's head might have been-
- Before that too crumbled into ash, the rest of the body lurching forward as the lava consumed it hungrily, hands permanently curled into claws, legs continuously twitching.
A hiss.
And then everything reversed itself, Sasha simply lying on the ground, the lava gone, the illusion no longer a deep red cavern but a hollow grey landscape. Even still for the Life Trainee, the pain remained, the phantom pain, of dying, of a hollow pit of agony that could not even begin to be described in words.
"And, in my domain, I am afraid that your partner will continue to die, over and over, because you condemned her to do so with your pride. She will die, suffer, until you finally accept your fate and truly bow to us."
She paused for a second, moving around the pit, her domain, raising her arms at the crowd. "Now, my children. How would you like to see this mortal suffer? There is still much time for lessons to be learned."
OOC ALL HORSEMEN: You can suggest methods for death - HOORAY.
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Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2012 8:36 pm
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Sally sliced through the air, flying toward her mark, barely a wobble. Wash held his pose, his shoulders tense. Would he hit her? Would it matter? He held his breath, waiting for -
And just like that, the daunting figure was gone from her platform, to stand before them; sneering. Wash's blood ran cold, as he listened to her tirade. As she addressed Sasha, his stomach roiled, fear sending bile climbing up his throat. He swallowed dryly.
Then the heat was upon him - on them both. He hissed, long and low, through his teeth, hunching his shoulders, trying to ignore the burning pain, to shield his face from the flames. It cost him seconds, that flinching. Time to fight to hold still, to lower his arms; to squint through the boiling assault.
He almost wished he hadn't. The horrible woman had Sasha by the hair, face kissing the ground delicately, as the lava inched closer. That pretty, soft face, graced with big baby blues. Eyes he'd seen in recent times only filled with terror and agony. And so it would be again. He lurched forward, to grab her, to do something, anything - but it was too late. He watched in horror as the flames and molten rock ate away at her, licking their way up her gracefully arched brows, thick rows of lashes, reducing the slight curve of her cheekbones and the gentle turn of lips into so much burned meat. Even that was soon consumed, until everything was as ash. Muscle and bone followed, in that cruel flame.
At some point Wash had fallen to all fours. He hadn't noticed - his vision was tinged with black, both from revulsion and pain - it was so hot. He gasped for air, and sound popped back all at once. The body that was once Sasha flailed wildly in it's death throes, kicking and twitching, clawing at the air, scuffing loudly into the ground.
And suddenly- everything changed; and yet nothing changed. His chest still heaved up and down, his breath too rapid, eyes wild. That horrible heat was gone, replaced by an almost perverse stillness. Sasha lay there, whole if not hale, face lost to him past the black curtain of her hair.
The woman spoke again then, her words like daggers into his heart. His pride. His fault. But he hadn't acted out of pride, but desperation - frustration, because to give in to them was to give up, and then there would truly be no hope of rescue- wouldn't there? But they'd keep killing her. They might keep killing her anyway. Their lives - and deaths- seemed meaningless, here. All this for his benefit, and it was working. He didn't know how much longer he could watch them drag her over the coals. But there didn't seem to be an out, this time. No little bargain offered here. Bow to them? He looked up at the woman before them, shaking, sickened. He was beyond rational thought. He had to touch the other trainee- had to see her face- had to know if it had been real.
A glimpse of bone. Julie. How many more nightmares would this add to his retinue?
"I'm sorry, Sasha, I'm so so sorry, God-" he whispered, his voice cracking, his mouth dry. "God forgive me." Hot tears trailed down Wash's face, and he succumbed to that protective instinct. He crawled toward her, hesitantly, reaching out to brush the hair from her face, to drag her tortured figure into his arms; to hold her like a child. There was no right answer here; there was nothing for them but pain. For her. Sally was gone; and he'd had no real chance challenging the woman anyway. He'd hoped to frighten them or buy time, to keep death at bay - and in a way, he had; but something had come in it's place.
Pain, robbed of the release of death.
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Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2012 9:53 pm
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Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2012 10:10 pm
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SPECTATOR
Shik could try and get Shaheen's blood, but she'd make him work for it pretty damn hard first. Plus as much as she was messing with him right now, she was actually genuinely irate with him, but doing a fairly decent job (for her) of keeping her temper under control.
The rock had just been a bit of a slip up on that control.
"I feel like I already missed out on all of the best----" Wait a second, did he just call her an idiot? Shaheen slowly turned her gaze towards him with narrowed eyes.
"I see." She said slowly, evenly. "So, you must be very, very well rested by now? I wasn't aware that I had hurt you quite that badly since our last encounter, considering you have not bothered to come and find me since then." Yep, a little irate, but still not completely unhinging on him yet.
Yet being the key word.
Still, that discussion would apparently have to wait, as one of the humans threw it's shield at Medea. Shaheen sat up straighter in her chair, leaning forward, mouth quirking into a half smirk. Silly, foolish, ridiculous humans. What were they even thinking? She did not worry for a single moment that the priestess would come to any harm.
And then the show finally started to get interesting. Shaheen may have reached over to grab for Shik's arm in her sudden excitement, forgetting all about their conversation in light of this new fantastic turn of events.
"Flay her!" Shaheen yelled, already imagining all of the blood that could be spilled, all of the screams that could be wrested forth. Her golden eyes glittered with a need for the carnage
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Posted: Tue Aug 07, 2012 10:52 pm
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SPECTATOR
Woman, now was not the time to be bringing up little things like actively seeking out people who went out of their way to do things like throw rocks at his head. So Shik just did his Shik thang and grunted in response, more intent on watching Medea's quashing of the Hunters almost precious little rebellion. Choose their deaths? How delicious. Shaheen and the Death horseman's suggestions had their merits, but he still wanted to contribute and in a booming voice shouted with sadistic glee, "Break their bones and rearrange them to more pleasing forms!"
~ ~ ~
This was getting a little uncomfortable for Mort. Had he personally thirsted for Hunter blood and called for their deaths before? Absolutely. But the battleground had been where those thoughts were driven, not from the safety of the stands above. It felt . . . too distant. Like he was watching a skellyvision, not two living beings.
Yet at the same time all of this appealed to some baser, more violent instinct, and he wanted more. The conflict of rationale and revenge within caused Mort to stay silent, his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line as he watched the proceedings, feeling like a literal corpse in a lively, if bloodthirsty, party.
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Posted: Wed Aug 08, 2012 9:39 am
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There was suffering, and then there was pure, acute agony.
Sasha had descended beyond that. She was in Hell.
Her mind and body both were wracked with such a terrible pain, a flesh-buring cycle of agony that she was forced to relive over and over again. The pain would end in a blissful moment of release - she was freed by death, the pain unable to touch her again - before being thrust once more into the same cycle.
Each time death loomed, she saw the faces of those she cared most about. Her final moments were not filled with regret or anger - but the soft brown eyes of Jerry. The bright flashing smile of Clerise. Rin's delight at her new label-maker. Ami's grumpy face. Killzone. Allan. The doctor. People that had come to mean something to Sasha, all in different ways. She allowed herself a moment to pretend that her papa was proud of her. All of these flashes of her happier, prouder moments - and then death's dark shroud consumed her.
For a moment, she knew peace. Soft, illuminated bliss. A gentle, pure nothingness.
The next instant she was jolted awake, the pain her body faced pushing her further and further away from herself - until she disconnected entirely. She felt the tarry magma as it licked up her legs. She felt it consume her skin, hungrily devour her flesh. She could feel it burn her clothes, her hair - charring her very bones. She could smell her own burning flesh, feel herself melting away until there was nothing left. The pain, so intense, ceased to matter. She stopped breathing as she submerged to her hips - she would say her goodbyes in a startling moment of clarity.
Death would come then.
And once more, that sweet void. For just a moment.
And once more, that jarring, agonizing milisecond where she was jolted from death back into the throes of pure, blinding agony.
Over and over and over again. A vicious, unending cycle.
Terror. Clarity. Warmth.
Pain. Acceptance. Bliss.
Agony. Goodbye. Peace.
Neverending, each time more painful than the last.
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Posted: Wed Aug 08, 2012 12:54 pm
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"Do you hear my children, little Hunters?" Medea half-closed her eyes, reveling in their despair, their Fear. "They want revenge, they will not rest, relentless, ruthless. They will not stop until each of your have suffered tenfold the pain you have brought to us."
The Colosseum began to take another form, shifting, gaining flesh and rows and rows of teeth, the literal round base of the structure turning into an eternal pit, a mouth of endless, serrated teeth. The last part of the illusion spread slowly where Medea stood, the Head Priestess addressing Sasha. "Now, show them how you will die. You suffer, for your kind, and yet you suffer because your partner is a coward. He refuses to speak in words, he refuses to grant you freedom, and so you will take his place, his words. You will die for him for our entertainment."
Medea held onto Wash, gripping him tightly in one arm, forcing his head downwards, making him watch every second, every moment, as the illusion completed itself and Sasha fell, slowly, inevitably. Even if he could close his eyes, there was no blocking the noise, the screaming, the jeers, the crunch, the gurgle as thousands of serrated teeth closed in on a single figure, delivering anything but a swift death. They managed to impale Sasha's legs, layers of jagged teeth-covered flesh closing in fold after fold, literally covering the Life trainee. Acidic saliva dripped on her skin, burning away every exposed part of her body, before the pain renewed itself, a slow crunch as the chasm, began to close in on her legs first, chewing slowly, deliberately, piece by piece.
If the pain of drowning in lava was quick, the agony of being chewed, eaten, digested alive, took what seemed eternity. At some point there was no Sasha, just a writhing, screaming mass, just a mass that bended and broke and hissed and stung at all angles at the illusion's pure mercy-
- And yet before she died again, everything stopped. The illusion reversed itself, just as Medea looked up. The top surface of the Lair was shaking, quavering, small pieces of rock falling downwards, accompanied by sand and dust. The ceiling shook again, a muffled noise. She smiled. "And so they come, our other guests."
The Head Priestess dropped Wash back on the ground, signalling to two Famine soldiers. "Put these guests back in the cage and leave the door open. I want to see them join the others in time for all to fall into my domain."
She waited until they were gone with the two prisoners before looking up at the Colosseum. "This event has ended, and another will begin shortly. The Hunters, they tear at the surface of their earth, searching for our Lair. We shall not reveal ourselves, not all of us, not even a few of us, not quite yet. No, they will receive what is coming to them soon. For now, prepare for battle, but do not engage in it. We simply wait, and see where our path take us, the path that is in our favour. When the time is right, we will strike then."
The dis-assembly was as good as any as Medea also took her exit. A battle was coming soon. They should prepare.
OOC - ALL HORSEMEN: it is time to prepare for battle. Feel free to speculate with other horsemen over the turn of events before the potential battle. The next post will be the turn of BATTLE events against the Hunters on the surface. - ALL HUNTERS: You are back in the dungeons with the others. You feel tired, sleepy. You can't help but close your eyes. However, when you wake up, you see that the outdoor door of the prison has been opened. You can try to escape if you want. Simply post all actions you make (escape attempts against the cage) in bold red.
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Posted: Wed Aug 08, 2012 11:30 pm
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Well, Shik hadn't pulled away from her hand that had reached for his arm, and in her excitement she may have just dug her nails into his skin a little harder then necessary. Not that she noticed, really. She was too focused on the main event, her half smirk quirking into a full blown smile full of bad intentions. Shiks contribution towards ideas for killing the wretched hunter was also a good one, and she was now letting go of his arm to stand up and perch herself on the back of the seat in front of her, arms wrapping around her knees as she rocked precariously on the edge, her wings spreading only to curl around her as she leaned forward closer to the show.
It was only slightly disappointing that Medea hadn't taken any of their suggestions, but that was quickly swept away by a certain morbid giddiness when the hunter woman was eaten alive, chomped on, bones cracking, skin torn, blood spurting out of wounds. It was both fantastic and riveting. Shaheen could not bring herself to look away.
And then the show was over.
A quivering of the ceiling that made dust, rocks, and sand shake free from above had Shaheen's gaze lifting upwards, and then Medea's words drew her attention back again.
A battle? With hunters? Oh this day was just getting better and better!
She turned her face toward Shik, her golden eyes glittering. "I think our time to stand together and fight side by side has come, yes?" A wild grin was offered that said it all. She wanted blood. Hunter blood. And she wanted Shik to share in the sweet revenge with her.
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