A typical day in Teyr. The council had just concluded, and Kang had retired to his office to finish up some paperwork. The past few days, he'd been late getting home because of it. Luckily, his mate Fonrar understood, even if she wasn't exactly happy about it. He wasn't happy about it either; he wanted to spend more time with their hatchlings.
"Governor. A messenger from Robann just arrived. He says it's urgent."
Kang looked up immediately, getting a bad feeling. "Let him in."
A human was ushered in, one that he recognized as Lady Hana's nephew. He was breathing hard, and had a panicked look in his eyes. "Governor, Robann... Lady Hana..."
The bozak frowned, motioning towards one of the baaz in the room that served as his bodyguard, "Get him some water. Mark, breathe."
"She's dead!"
"What?"
The baaz handded Mark a cup of water, and the human drank deeply. "She... she was killed. By draconians!"
Wings flaring in surprise, Kang barely held in a growl, "Start from the beginning." This was bad.
Mark nodded, taking a deep breath, "You remember what happened a year ago, when that bozak was killed, and his mate almost went crazy?"
"Harvah'k. Shit," Kang cursed. "Find General Slith, now." One of the baaz nodded curtly and departed.
"Captain Ogla and several of the draconians under her command marched into Robann earlier this morning, demanding that all non-draconians leave Teyr. Hana... she refused. And was shot with a crossbow," The human began to pace, obviously upset. "The town is furious. I barely got out to bring word before they took control and began forcing everyone out of their homes."
Kang stood up, "They're not the only ones that are furious. Captain Ogla and all those working with her will be punished severely for this."
The baaz that had departed earlier came back, "Governor, there's fighting in the streets. The Steel Watch has already been deployed to restore order."
There was a commotion in the hallway, yells and the striking of steel against steel, and a sivak rushed into the room, wearing the tabard of the Queen's Own. Blood dripped from the blade of his bastard sword, and the two baaz in the room immediately pulled their own weapons with a hiss, placing themselves in front of the human and Kang.
The governor growled, low in his chest, "What is the meaning of this, Commander Mitrat?"
"You will not interfere," stated Mitrat calmly. "The aurak female, Thesik, killed General Maranta. She, in turn, will die. Her children, however, will be spared."
"Put your weapons away, and cease this idiocy immediately," Kang drew himself to his full height, his voice low and dangerous. "None of the females are to be killed. There are too few of them still."
Mitrat remained calm, making no move to sheathe his sword. "She will pay for her crime."
"That crazy bastard would have turned us all into mindless slaves, and destroyed our only chance to breed! What the hell are you doing, Mitrat?"
Mark watched, warily, and edged towards the far wall, hand on the hilt of his weapon.
"Governor?" the baaz questioned.
"You will not interfere," Mitrat stated again, nodding at the two sivaks that joined him. "Kill the baaz and the human."
Gritting his teeth in anger, Kang could only watch as his bodyguards and Mark were killed with crossbow bolts, the bodies of the draconians turning to stone almost immediately. He eyed the crossbow as it was turned on him, "It was a mistake letting you live. I won't be making the same one again."
Seemingly out of nowhere, two bozaks appeared behind the Queen's Own, and six baaz ran out of a hidden door, attacking the sivaks.
"Did you really think I'd be stupid enough to leave myself so defenseless?" Kang grinned to himself as the Queen's Own were killed. "Baaz, with me. Bozaks, help to secure the Bastion." He dashed out of the room, his bodyguards surrounding him.
Upon leaving the Bastion, the chaos was easy to see. A female kapak dashed up, breathing heavily. "Governor Kang! Fon and Thes... they're holed up with Artis in the shop, with a few others. They won't be able to hold off the Queen's Own for long. Not only that, but that Dark Knight, Benjimin, he's leading a force of them into the city!"
Kang froze. Shit. So that's how it was. The Dark Knights were taking advantage of the chaos from the infighting to swoop in and finish them off. He and Fonrar's children were only a month old; she didn't go anywhere without them. Not only that, but Thesik had just recently laid her eggs. Despite Mitrat saying they would be spared, an accident could easily happen.
He'd lost control. The fistful of sand he'd been holding so tightly, trying to keep together, had begun to spill, and there wasn't anything he could do to get control of it again. His dream, his hard work... it was gone.
...but Teyr was already gone.
The Ohm had destroyed it, along with the rest of Krynn, and countless other worlds and universes.
This was just a nightmare.
Cursing soundly, Kang drew his sword with a hiss, "You almost had me that time, Nightmare King."
A crossbow bolt slammed into the kapak, and she slumped to the ground, immediately melting into a pool of acid. Letting out another string of curses, the bozak backed away, spotting about ten humans in black armor approaching. Knights. He began to run, knowing full well that he was outnumbered, and could easily die.
Kang knew these streets, and used that to his advantage, losing the Dark Knights in the alleyways and ducking into an unoccupied building to catch his breath and figure out how to snap himself out of the nightmare.
He'd heard all the warnings, and accordingly, he was on the way back from the lab, to his room. He was sure he could keep Fletcher safe there. If they stayed there, and hid until the all-clear was given, they could keep each other safe. If Russel's arm wasn't broken, it would be another story. But since he wasn't at 100%, taking cover was their only option. For now, it was wrapped in a hard, green, cast that resembled many wrapped leaves, but hung in a normal fabric sling.
He turned the corner, and stopped dead in his tracks. There, in the hallway before him, was a shadowed figure with a familiar, curly head of hair. "Russel," said the dry, flat voice. He knew that voice. "Do you honestly think some greenery will bring Xenotime back to life?"
"M-Mr. Belshio..." he stammered. Around him, the ship's hallway changed into the halls of Mugear's mansion.
"Both you and your sorry excuse for a father have already damned this town to die!" he spat, uncharacteristic rage spewing forth.
"Wh-what are you talking about, the Red Water spring has been sealed! They'll find Mugear's body in that mansion before someone ever uncovers it again." He was simply stunned by the accusations being leveled. He had no idea where it was coming from. It'd been a year since all of that happened.
"This town is doomed to die without its children," Belshio finally revealed. It was true, other than Elisa, there were only a few other children that had been hardy enough to survive the first Red Water poisoning. And the second time had claimed the lives of a few infants born in the meantime. That brought the count of those younger than Fletcher in that town to little more than a dozen. The rest were lost, forlorn, and depressed adults. "You, and your despicable father have seen to that!"
No, with that comment, Russel knew this wasn't the real Mr. Belshio. The two men had been friends for a long time, even during the time Nash worked for Mugear. "Shut up!" he spat back. "You're not even real! You're not on this ship!"
With that, it all faded, and Russel was once again standing on his own in Stacy's corridors. He took a moment to collect himself before heading toward their bunk.
But around the next corner something hit him out of nowhere. He was knocked against the side wall, and fell to the ground. It felt like a fist to his skull. He looked up, and there, standing over him, was Nash. He just stared.
"You..." he sneered, stepping closer. He reached down, and lifted Russel up by the front of his shirt. He held him like that, against the wall. "I told you explicitly not to do alchemy, did I not?" Nash's anger in his voice seemed carefully controlled. His fist pressed painfully against Russel's chest.
"Y-yes, sir, you did." A million questions ran through his head, but he had not the time to consider them, he was too wrapped up in fear of his father. While he had no memory of his father ever raising a hand against him or Fletcher, that was when they were still small. He did remember that when he was angry, he was kind of scary, though he never raised his voice, either.
"Then why were you working for that man?" Nash's voice was still carefully controlled, the knuckles of his fist against Russel's chest were white.
"W-we were trying to find you," he said quickly. "I-it was all my idea. Fletcher only came along because he missed you too." Russel could take the punishment for this for his brother's sake, he was sure of that.
"Do you honestly expect me to believe that out of a liar?" he responded. Russel's eyes grew wider.
"But-- It's true!" he insisted, his voice getting more high-pitched. For that, he was rewarded with a knee to the gut.
"Liar!" Nash repeated. "You wanted to seize my work for yourself, didn't you?"
"No! I didn't!"
"You did, and what's more, you couldn't even finish it," he sneered. The intense look of hatred looked strange on the face Russel knew as perpetually tired, but still patient and kind.
Russel looked shocked. "Finishing it meant-" But he was cut off.
"Don't tell me what it took to finish my work!" He pulled his arm back and slammed him against wall periodically to punctuate the sentence. "You killed what was left of my hometown. It doesn't matter what you do now, you can't bring it back."
Nash's other hand promptly came up and slapped Russel across the face. On impact, Russel heard screaming. Fletcher.
"Wait! Let me go!" he finally struggled against the hand.
"You will stay put. You're not going to go anywhere until I say so!"
"No! Please! Fletcher needs me!"
"You're the worst person to take care of Fletcher. How arrogant can you be to insist that you're the best person to take care of him?" With that, Nash tossed Russel on the floor again. Against any other opponent, Russel wouldn't have a problem. But this was very, very, different.
Nash then started kicking him. Hard, and square in the gut. Russel's screams of pain mingled with Fletchers, but soon the younger boy's drowned his out. All he could hear was Nash's constant epithets, calling him useless, worthless, idiotic, and worse, ashamed to call him his son. To be honest, Russel wasn't sure what brought the tears to his eyes, the words, Fletcher's screams that he was unable to alleviate, or the constant barrage his arms, chest, and midsection was taking.
Russel opened his eyes in the course of the beating, and there in front of him laid Fletcher. Blood stained his overalls, his face, and matted the boy's hair. Cuts were all over his body. "No..." he whispered. "Fletcher!" he called to him. But the boy's chest was completely still. "No! Fletcher!" Russel's voice got even more high pitched and desperate. He tried to crawl away from Nash, toward the boy but was rewarded with a kick in the face. His nose broken and bleeding, he still screamed after his little brother. "Fletcher! Fletcher!Fletcher!Fletcher!"
There was screaming coming from the other room, and the scent of blood. Human blood. Kang could barely make out what was being said, and once it clicked in his brain, it made him growl. He actually liked the kid.
Sword in hand, he stormed into the room, pausing for only a moment to take in the scene before moving forward and thrusting the blade into the older man's chest. Before Nash's body could even fall, the bozak shoved it off of the blade with his foot, immediately kneeling down to check on Fletcher, but still keeping a wary eye on Russel. He wasn't sure whose dream this was, exactly. "Is this your dream or mine?"
The attack ceased, and he scrambled over to Fletcher before he realized why, exactly, it had stopped. "Fletcher!" Tears openly came down his face, and his eyes were wide with panic. He pulled Fletcher into his lap.
By some chance, he glanced back over at Nash. He saw the large, gaping wound in the dying man. "No!" They were both dead there was nothing he could do. Then he looked up at the source of the mortal wound. There was a massive chimera there, holding the bloody sword that had just felled his father. "Back off!" he snarled, holding onto Fletcher's body possessively. "Get the fuck away from him you goddamned chimera." What he'd said didn't even seem to have sunk in yet.
"It's yours, isn't it? You're Fletcher's brother," Kang realized, pulling a rag out of his pocket and cleaning the blood off of the blade. "I'm not a chimera, and he"--he pointed at Nash's body--"isn't real. He's part of a nightmare. And I'm guessing your brother is, too."
It was that word that seemed to finally cut through into his rational mind. 'Nightmare'. Right. The Nightmare King. This... wasn't really Fletcher. That... really wasn't Nash. The manic look in his eyes faded, and he slowly released the grip on the body. "My father..." he said quietly. "Wasn't like that. He'd never act like that. He'd never do that.." his voice was thick, and he wiped his face with the cloth sling before replacing his arm into it. The cast had a couple cracks in it, but it seemed that no further damage had been done to his arm.
He slowly got himself to his feet again. He was a bit unsteady, given the nature of the beating he'd just taken, but his own force of will demanded he remain upright and on his feet. He closed his eyes. He took a couple deep breaths, mentally reminding himself of what was going on. Nash wasn't here. He'd never treat him that way. Fletcher was safe. He had to be. Of all the times they had to be separated...
Slowly, the scene faded, and returned to Stacy's halls. The bodies vanished. But the damage had been done. Russel leaned back against the wall, panting and exhausted. He looked tiredly over to Kang. "What the fuck are you?" he asked breathlessly. "And how do you know Fletcher?" It wasn't out of anger, it was simply an inquiry.
He was underground, in a tunnel. Everywhere around him was movement - a battle raging, two armies locked in a battle to the death.
No one does war better than ants.
Marco ran through the tunnels, thinking Demorph! Demorph! but he was already human, and even if the midst of the nightmare's terror there was still a part of Marco's mind that was wondering, how come these ants are all tall as I am if I'm human? But there was no time for thinking - Marco had been here before, he could already feel the horror of when the ant ant bit him midsection, ripping him in two and if he couldn't get away it would happen again and why couldn't he morph?
He ran and ran and ran, letting out a string of curses as the ants crawled closer...
It was a good thing Kang was well aware of what a molecule was by that point, or what Russel said would have gone right over his head. "Useful." And with that, he started off down the hallway, sword held in front of him just in case.
A few minutes later, a strange, acidic scent hit him, and his snout wrinkled. One hand went up to warn the human to be cautious, and he slowed his pace, creeping forward. Skittering sounds, and cursing, and then a dark-haired human appeared, running from...
...were those giant ants?
Whatever they were, they were about to be destroyed.
Russel peered around Kang to see what had stopped him. "Ants... Okay, this is the new weirdest thing I've ever seen. Where's the poor bastard that's dreaming about this?" He pulled the dagger out. While he only had one good arm, he definitely had enough fight in him for two.
What the hell? "Who the you?" Marco yells at the newcomers, panting with the effort of running. He eyed Kang. "What the heck are you meant to be? The secret love child of a goat and an alligator?" That was new. Marco was pretty sure he'd never had any nightmares about bizarre goat and gator melding. Although there were the ones about that time when his morphing had gone crazy and made him morph two creatures at the same time, and he did have a goat morph at least...
...okay. Not going there. Nooooot going there.
"Anyway, unless you guys want a giant ant nearly biting you in half - and believe me that is not fun - I would suggest running, okay?"
Kang snorted, shooting a look at Marco, "Right here, Russel. And I'm going to leave that comment alone for now; we have a problem to take care of."
He did take the boy's suggestion to run to heart, but not in the direction that was probably meant. Dodging mandibles, he began to kill the ants, "I'm a bit tougher than an oversized bug. What the hell kind of nightmare is this anyways?"
Russel waded into the fray as well, though he was a bit less intense about it than Kang. He made a point of making sure he knew where that ridiculously huge sword was at all times, and drove the dagger down into some exoskeletons. He knew his insectoid anatomy, and thus, he aimed for the place that would most quickly immobilize the creature, scrambled onto his fallen foe, and continued on in this way to the next.
There was no way Fletcher was going to believe this one.
In the background there was always singing now. Not words, specifically, though there was a clear enough message to it, simply a constant hum that assured her everything was fine, everything was according to plan. The sheer cost of their cause was unfortunate, of course. It had never been Tali’s intentions to hurt anyone, but for the greater benefit of the galaxy certain unpleasant things had to be done. Her father had taught her that. Even as she never saw him, never spoke to him, she knew he was sacrificing so the quarian people, so that she, would have a better future. Shepard had shown her as well. They’d never wanted to destroy all they had, to kill so many, but in the end it was what was required for survival. And the end would wash away all the mess of the path there. It had to.
The shotgun was familiar in her hands as she checked it over one last time. There was nothing wrong with it, there never was, but the mission had to be perfect. This one was important, this one meant something to the galaxy. To their cause. The galaxy was so close to being saved, so close to that perfection that had escaped them. This would be the first, critical step towards the end of their suffering, to brining peace. No longer would the turian loath the krogan or the quarians hunt the geth, soon, so soon if she could only do what she has been called upon to do, that would all be a thing of the past. The thousand pieces of one vast engine, finally working perfectly in synch. Beautiful.
The transport finally docked and her squad moved out. No words were required, the same, humming lull of Stacy unified them, made their goals one. A barricade had been set up to stop them, the Mako used as a shield in the middle of the cargo bay and Tali frowned beneath the helmet. The Mako. That wasn’t…
The singing rose to a sharp, painful pitch, and Tali stumbled, knees hitting the cool, familiar metal of the Normandy’s floor. Shepard was firing at them from behind a storage crate, ducking and weaving and taking far more chances than the leader of a mission ever should, and the singing was too loud, their purpose too clear, and the commander had paused for a moment, had recognized her, and in that instant Tali felt her shotgun fire and watched as Shepard fell.
For the first time in months, the singing fell silent as Tali screamed.
Sorry it took us so long, hun - also, this is the perfect backdrop for a Terminarcher
Russel was about to fire back at Marco and Kang again, when a scream cut through the air. He didn't say anything before he took off after it. In his mind, it sounded a lot like Fletcher. He didn't stop to consider that that's exactly what the Nightmare King wanted him to hear.
But, he found himself in the middle of a firefight. Once he saw what was going on, he ducked behind a crate. Once again, he was in a firefight without a gun, and there was no Sergeant Ross or Sergeant Major Broche to protect him this time.
"Hey, guys! Over here!" Russel called back in the direction he'd come.
Marco felt a consideriable amount of exasperation when Russel just ran blindly after the scream - did the guy not realise how incredibly stupid that was? It could be anything! And he'd just run in, unprepared, probably to get get hit by whatever what causing the scream.
So Marco was much more cautious about approaching. He moved much more slowly than Russel, scanning for potential threats as he did.
"Will you shut up?" he hissed under his breath at Russel when he arrived at the crate. "Or do you have some kind of insane deathwish that makes you want to draw the attention of whatever insane nightmare might be out there?"
Speaking of insane nightmares - time to look around and see if he could spot any. What fun. He peered around the crate, spotting the screaming...girl? Hard to tell with the suit. Looked vaguely girl-shaped, anyway. "I'm guessing this is her nightmare," Marco whispered.
"Russel - goddammit," Kang cursed, following the boy just as cautiously as Marco. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe this was a trap?" Too late now, if it was one. They'd already stepped into it.
It was considerably more difficult for him to duck behind the crate, due to his size, but he did the best that he could. He lifted his head, assessing the situation, "More than likely. Question is, how do we snap her out of it without getting caught in the crossfire? I don't have much experience with guns." The reason should have been obvious, from his medieval armor and weaponry.
The blasts continued to fall, incinerating and plasma shots scorched the metal floor of the cargo area, but Tali didn't care. She moved forward, ducking and weaving to reach the fallen form of Shepard. Only she couldn't. Every step forward seemed to bring her further away, the commander's body ever more out of reach, and the singing slowly returned, attempting to tell her it was okay.
A rogue shot hit her shoulder, another hitting her leg, and as the section seals clamped down to prevent infection she knew she had to take cover. Tali Let out a curse of frustration as she turned back, trying her best not to limp as she darted away from the battle to duck behind the pile of crates. An occupied pile of crates.
The instant she discovered she wasn't alone in hiding, Tali attempted to train her shot gun on the people she found there, the weapon pointed at the largest, strangest alien she'd seen in some time.
Remembering what Kang had said about him exploding when he died was enough of an impetus to drive Russel's reflexes to shove the barrel of the shotgun to the sky. "Hey, hey, hey, we're on your side. This is just a nightmare."
The baseball bat cracks across his face. Apollo rocks in his chains, hanging there like a side of beef. His face is a swollen mess of bruises, barely recognizable as belonging to a human. His costume is torn, the skin underneath bloody and bruised.
Last Call snorts, panting for a moment. He's been at this for hours, taking a rotation with the other two figures in the room. "Man, this just doesn't get old." He grins over his shoulder at the Commander, who sips a bottle of beer as he leans his shield against the wall, and Teuton, smiling softly as he watches the entire scene. Last Call hammers the base of his bat into Apollo's mouth, causing him to spit out a tooth.
"C'mon, Call. You've had at the little nancy for long enough. It's my turn now." The Commander grins, adjusting his gloves.
"Hah, it's been that long already?" The Italian cracks his neck. "Fine. I need to step out to get some more beer, anyway." He grins, saluting the pair with two fingers, and heads out the door.
The Commander grins. He advances and opens his round with a harsh kick between Apollo's legs, forcing a cry of pain and helpless wheezing from the chained man. "God, you cry like a girl. It's like the first time, when I bent you over the goddamn cop car."
Teuton looks up, blinking. "You mean, you and he...?" He gestures vaguely, but the other man gets his meaning instantly, nodding with a grin. "Huh. How was he? I'd been considering, but you know how Last Call gets around gay men."
Apollo closes his eyes tightly, trying to do his best to drown them out. Happy thoughts. Anything. But the pain keeps him in the hear and now, and he can't help but work up a glare as the Commander laughs. "He couldn't get enough of it, though I've had better." He looks around, then grins. "Tell you what. Drag that table over here. We'll prop him up a bit."
Apollo whirls his head around, eyes glowing. He tries to blast the pair of them, but he can barely manage sparks enough to light a cigarette, let alone torch two post-humans. Teuton, fully charged with sunlight, knocks him silly with a blow that leaves him seeing stars.
"No," He gurgles, as they drag a table over. "No. No. No no no," He groans as they pick him up and settle him on it. He can hear the Commander's belt being undone. "Nonononono." Not again. He clenches his eyes tightly, muscles straining against the heavy chains. Midnighter!
Kara had been lucky enough to get out of her odd little dream reality easily enough. Power Girl and Linda Danvers being better than her. It had hurt, it really did, but she had realized her own self-worth, that each of them had a purpose, and each of them were good at very different things.
Even if Kara wasn't sure what that thing that she was good at was yet though.
Fighting back the machinations of the Nightmare King, maybe?
She froze as she saw the sight in front of her.
This was...this was taking it too far.
Her eyes went red.
And then fiery red heat vision went pouring of them.
"Christ!" The Commander swears, leaping back with nearly inhuman speed to avoid the fury of her vision.
Teuton swears just as loudly in German, flinging up his arms to protect his face. His costume burns, and soon there's the smell of cooking flesh, but he lowers his arms and returns with bursts of solar fire from his eyes. He starts to push forward, an aura of sunlight appearing around his head as he closes the gap between them.
"Teuton, get your hands on that bitch and knock her eyes out!" The Commander pushes himself up and flings his shield at her throat, snarling. "The little skank wants heat? I'll just use her as a rag to clean up when I'm done with the faggot here."
Apollo is stunned at the intervention, and grits his teeth. He can feel the heat of the strange girl's vision. Still, he doesn't think that some heat and pretty looks will help her much with those two, and possibly Last Call, coming back soon. He grits his teeth and begins to strain once more, the heat making the chains a bit weaker than they should be. Several of the weaker links begin to peel apart this time, snapping and pulling apart a bit. In a few seconds, he should be free, for whatever good that will be.
Teuton swings wide, no technique at all to the blow. He's obviously not used to fighting with anything other than brute strength. However, the way he pushed through the heat vision, burns on his arms aside, and his build suggest that he doesn't usually need to worry about such things.
The Commander swears again, shaking his head and turning back to the more important matter at hand. He turns back to Apollo with a scowl. "Now, before I was so rudely..." He's interrupted by the sound of snapping metal, chain links dropping to the floor. Before he can react, Apollo's whirling around, swinging the length of heavy chain at his face. It catches the smaller man across the face, knocking him to the side for a bit.
Apollo stands, chains dangling from his wrists, and weaves a little. He doesn't have much in him right now, not after the beatings he's been taking. He spares Supergirl a quick glance, but has to hope she's good enough to handle Teuton on her own. As the Commander tackles him, well. He's got his hands full.
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1/2 SORRY FOR THE TL;DR, GUYS
"Governor. A messenger from Robann just arrived. He says it's urgent."
Kang looked up immediately, getting a bad feeling. "Let him in."
A human was ushered in, one that he recognized as Lady Hana's nephew. He was breathing hard, and had a panicked look in his eyes. "Governor, Robann... Lady Hana..."
The bozak frowned, motioning towards one of the baaz in the room that served as his bodyguard, "Get him some water. Mark, breathe."
"She's dead!"
"What?"
The baaz handded Mark a cup of water, and the human drank deeply. "She... she was killed. By draconians!"
Wings flaring in surprise, Kang barely held in a growl, "Start from the beginning." This was bad.
Mark nodded, taking a deep breath, "You remember what happened a year ago, when that bozak was killed, and his mate almost went crazy?"
"Harvah'k. Shit," Kang cursed. "Find General Slith, now." One of the baaz nodded curtly and departed.
"Captain Ogla and several of the draconians under her command marched into Robann earlier this morning, demanding that all non-draconians leave Teyr. Hana... she refused. And was shot with a crossbow," The human began to pace, obviously upset. "The town is furious. I barely got out to bring word before they took control and began forcing everyone out of their homes."
Kang stood up, "They're not the only ones that are furious. Captain Ogla and all those working with her will be punished severely for this."
The baaz that had departed earlier came back, "Governor, there's fighting in the streets. The Steel Watch has already been deployed to restore order."
There was a commotion in the hallway, yells and the striking of steel against steel, and a sivak rushed into the room, wearing the tabard of the Queen's Own. Blood dripped from the blade of his bastard sword, and the two baaz in the room immediately pulled their own weapons with a hiss, placing themselves in front of the human and Kang.
The governor growled, low in his chest, "What is the meaning of this, Commander Mitrat?"
"You will not interfere," stated Mitrat calmly. "The aurak female, Thesik, killed General Maranta. She, in turn, will die. Her children, however, will be spared."
"Put your weapons away, and cease this idiocy immediately," Kang drew himself to his full height, his voice low and dangerous. "None of the females are to be killed. There are too few of them still."
Mitrat remained calm, making no move to sheathe his sword. "She will pay for her crime."
"That crazy bastard would have turned us all into mindless slaves, and destroyed our only chance to breed! What the hell are you doing, Mitrat?"
Mark watched, warily, and edged towards the far wall, hand on the hilt of his weapon.
"Governor?" the baaz questioned.
"You will not interfere," Mitrat stated again, nodding at the two sivaks that joined him. "Kill the baaz and the human."
Gritting his teeth in anger, Kang could only watch as his bodyguards and Mark were killed with crossbow bolts, the bodies of the draconians turning to stone almost immediately. He eyed the crossbow as it was turned on him, "It was a mistake letting you live. I won't be making the same one again."
Seemingly out of nowhere, two bozaks appeared behind the Queen's Own, and six baaz ran out of a hidden door, attacking the sivaks.
"Did you really think I'd be stupid enough to leave myself so defenseless?" Kang grinned to himself as the Queen's Own were killed. "Baaz, with me. Bozaks, help to secure the Bastion." He dashed out of the room, his bodyguards surrounding him.
2/2 SORRY FOR THE TL;DR, GUYS
Kang froze. Shit. So that's how it was. The Dark Knights were taking advantage of the chaos from the infighting to swoop in and finish them off. He and Fonrar's children were only a month old; she didn't go anywhere without them. Not only that, but Thesik had just recently laid her eggs. Despite Mitrat saying they would be spared, an accident could easily happen.
He'd lost control. The fistful of sand he'd been holding so tightly, trying to keep together, had begun to spill, and there wasn't anything he could do to get control of it again. His dream, his hard work... it was gone.
...but Teyr was already gone.
The Ohm had destroyed it, along with the rest of Krynn, and countless other worlds and universes.
This was just a nightmare.
Cursing soundly, Kang drew his sword with a hiss, "You almost had me that time, Nightmare King."
A crossbow bolt slammed into the kapak, and she slumped to the ground, immediately melting into a pool of acid. Letting out another string of curses, the bozak backed away, spotting about ten humans in black armor approaching. Knights. He began to run, knowing full well that he was outnumbered, and could easily die.
Kang knew these streets, and used that to his advantage, losing the Dark Knights in the alleyways and ducking into an unoccupied building to catch his breath and figure out how to snap himself out of the nightmare.
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He turned the corner, and stopped dead in his tracks. There, in the hallway before him, was a shadowed figure with a familiar, curly head of hair. "Russel," said the dry, flat voice. He knew that voice. "Do you honestly think some greenery will bring Xenotime back to life?"
"M-Mr. Belshio..." he stammered. Around him, the ship's hallway changed into the halls of Mugear's mansion.
"Both you and your sorry excuse for a father have already damned this town to die!" he spat, uncharacteristic rage spewing forth.
"Wh-what are you talking about, the Red Water spring has been sealed! They'll find Mugear's body in that mansion before someone ever uncovers it again." He was simply stunned by the accusations being leveled. He had no idea where it was coming from. It'd been a year since all of that happened.
"This town is doomed to die without its children," Belshio finally revealed. It was true, other than Elisa, there were only a few other children that had been hardy enough to survive the first Red Water poisoning. And the second time had claimed the lives of a few infants born in the meantime. That brought the count of those younger than Fletcher in that town to little more than a dozen. The rest were lost, forlorn, and depressed adults. "You, and your despicable father have seen to that!"
No, with that comment, Russel knew this wasn't the real Mr. Belshio. The two men had been friends for a long time, even during the time Nash worked for Mugear. "Shut up!" he spat back. "You're not even real! You're not on this ship!"
With that, it all faded, and Russel was once again standing on his own in Stacy's corridors. He took a moment to collect himself before heading toward their bunk.
But around the next corner something hit him out of nowhere. He was knocked against the side wall, and fell to the ground. It felt like a fist to his skull. He looked up, and there, standing over him, was Nash. He just stared.
"You..." he sneered, stepping closer. He reached down, and lifted Russel up by the front of his shirt. He held him like that, against the wall. "I told you explicitly not to do alchemy, did I not?" Nash's anger in his voice seemed carefully controlled. His fist pressed painfully against Russel's chest.
"Y-yes, sir, you did." A million questions ran through his head, but he had not the time to consider them, he was too wrapped up in fear of his father. While he had no memory of his father ever raising a hand against him or Fletcher, that was when they were still small. He did remember that when he was angry, he was kind of scary, though he never raised his voice, either.
"Then why were you working for that man?" Nash's voice was still carefully controlled, the knuckles of his fist against Russel's chest were white.
"W-we were trying to find you," he said quickly. "I-it was all my idea. Fletcher only came along because he missed you too." Russel could take the punishment for this for his brother's sake, he was sure of that.
"Do you honestly expect me to believe that out of a liar?" he responded. Russel's eyes grew wider.
"But-- It's true!" he insisted, his voice getting more high-pitched. For that, he was rewarded with a knee to the gut.
"Liar!" Nash repeated. "You wanted to seize my work for yourself, didn't you?"
"No! I didn't!"
"You did, and what's more, you couldn't even finish it," he sneered. The intense look of hatred looked strange on the face Russel knew as perpetually tired, but still patient and kind.
Russel looked shocked. "Finishing it meant-" But he was cut off.
"Don't tell me what it took to finish my work!" He pulled his arm back and slammed him against wall periodically to punctuate the sentence. "You killed what was left of my hometown. It doesn't matter what you do now, you can't bring it back."
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Nash's other hand promptly came up and slapped Russel across the face. On impact, Russel heard screaming. Fletcher.
"Wait! Let me go!" he finally struggled against the hand.
"You will stay put. You're not going to go anywhere until I say so!"
"No! Please! Fletcher needs me!"
"You're the worst person to take care of Fletcher. How arrogant can you be to insist that you're the best person to take care of him?" With that, Nash tossed Russel on the floor again. Against any other opponent, Russel wouldn't have a problem. But this was very, very, different.
Nash then started kicking him. Hard, and square in the gut. Russel's screams of pain mingled with Fletchers, but soon the younger boy's drowned his out. All he could hear was Nash's constant epithets, calling him useless, worthless, idiotic, and worse, ashamed to call him his son. To be honest, Russel wasn't sure what brought the tears to his eyes, the words, Fletcher's screams that he was unable to alleviate, or the constant barrage his arms, chest, and midsection was taking.
Russel opened his eyes in the course of the beating, and there in front of him laid Fletcher. Blood stained his overalls, his face, and matted the boy's hair. Cuts were all over his body. "No..." he whispered. "Fletcher!" he called to him. But the boy's chest was completely still. "No! Fletcher!" Russel's voice got even more high pitched and desperate. He tried to crawl away from Nash, toward the boy but was rewarded with a kick in the face. His nose broken and bleeding, he still screamed after his little brother. "Fletcher! Fletcher! Fletcher! Fletcher!"
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Sword in hand, he stormed into the room, pausing for only a moment to take in the scene before moving forward and thrusting the blade into the older man's chest. Before Nash's body could even fall, the bozak shoved it off of the blade with his foot, immediately kneeling down to check on Fletcher, but still keeping a wary eye on Russel. He wasn't sure whose dream this was, exactly. "Is this your dream or mine?"
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By some chance, he glanced back over at Nash. He saw the large, gaping wound in the dying man. "No!" They were both dead there was nothing he could do. Then he looked up at the source of the mortal wound. There was a massive chimera there, holding the bloody sword that had just felled his father. "Back off!" he snarled, holding onto Fletcher's body possessively. "Get the fuck away from him you goddamned chimera." What he'd said didn't even seem to have sunk in yet.
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He slowly got himself to his feet again. He was a bit unsteady, given the nature of the beating he'd just taken, but his own force of will demanded he remain upright and on his feet. He closed his eyes. He took a couple deep breaths, mentally reminding himself of what was going on. Nash wasn't here. He'd never treat him that way. Fletcher was safe. He had to be. Of all the times they had to be separated...
Slowly, the scene faded, and returned to Stacy's halls. The bodies vanished. But the damage had been done. Russel leaned back against the wall, panting and exhausted. He looked tiredly over to Kang. "What the fuck are you?" he asked breathlessly. "And how do you know Fletcher?" It wasn't out of anger, it was simply an inquiry.
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Move on to Marco or Tali? :O
Re: Move on to Marco or Tali? :O
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He was underground, in a tunnel. Everywhere around him was movement - a battle raging, two armies locked in a battle to the death.
No one does war better than ants.
Marco ran through the tunnels, thinking Demorph! Demorph! but he was already human, and even if the midst of the nightmare's terror there was still a part of Marco's mind that was wondering, how come these ants are all tall as I am if I'm human? But there was no time for thinking - Marco had been here before, he could already feel the horror of when the ant ant bit him midsection, ripping him in two and if he couldn't get away it would happen again and why couldn't he morph?
He ran and ran and ran, letting out a string of curses as the ants crawled closer...
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A few minutes later, a strange, acidic scent hit him, and his snout wrinkled. One hand went up to warn the human to be cautious, and he slowed his pace, creeping forward. Skittering sounds, and cursing, and then a dark-haired human appeared, running from...
...were those giant ants?
Whatever they were, they were about to be destroyed.
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...okay. Not going there. Nooooot going there.
"Anyway, unless you guys want a giant ant nearly biting you in half - and believe me that is not fun - I would suggest running, okay?"
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He did take the boy's suggestion to run to heart, but not in the direction that was probably meant. Dodging mandibles, he began to kill the ants, "I'm a bit tougher than an oversized bug. What the hell kind of nightmare is this anyways?"
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There was no way Fletcher was going to believe this one.
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HAVE FUN WITH THE DRAGONFEAR!
Re: HAVE FUN WITH THE DRAGONFEAR!
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On to Tali!
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The shotgun was familiar in her hands as she checked it over one last time. There was nothing wrong with it, there never was, but the mission had to be perfect. This one was important, this one meant something to the galaxy. To their cause. The galaxy was so close to being saved, so close to that perfection that had escaped them. This would be the first, critical step towards the end of their suffering, to brining peace. No longer would the turian loath the krogan or the quarians hunt the geth, soon, so soon if she could only do what she has been called upon to do, that would all be a thing of the past. The thousand pieces of one vast engine, finally working perfectly in synch. Beautiful.
The transport finally docked and her squad moved out. No words were required, the same, humming lull of Stacy unified them, made their goals one. A barricade had been set up to stop them, the Mako used as a shield in the middle of the cargo bay and Tali frowned beneath the helmet. The Mako. That wasn’t…
The singing rose to a sharp, painful pitch, and Tali stumbled, knees hitting the cool, familiar metal of the Normandy’s floor. Shepard was firing at them from behind a storage crate, ducking and weaving and taking far more chances than the leader of a mission ever should, and the singing was too loud, their purpose too clear, and the commander had paused for a moment, had recognized her, and in that instant Tali felt her shotgun fire and watched as Shepard fell.
For the first time in months, the singing fell silent as Tali screamed.
Sorry it took us so long, hun - also, this is the perfect backdrop for a Terminarcher
But, he found himself in the middle of a firefight. Once he saw what was going on, he ducked behind a crate. Once again, he was in a firefight without a gun, and there was no Sergeant Ross or Sergeant Major Broche to protect him this time.
"Hey, guys! Over here!" Russel called back in the direction he'd come.
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So Marco was much more cautious about approaching. He moved much more slowly than Russel, scanning for potential threats as he did.
"Will you shut up?" he hissed under his breath at Russel when he arrived at the crate. "Or do you have some kind of insane deathwish that makes you want to draw the attention of whatever insane nightmare might be out there?"
Speaking of insane nightmares - time to look around and see if he could spot any. What fun. He peered around the crate, spotting the screaming...girl? Hard to tell with the suit. Looked vaguely girl-shaped, anyway. "I'm guessing this is her nightmare," Marco whispered.
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It was considerably more difficult for him to duck behind the crate, due to his size, but he did the best that he could. He lifted his head, assessing the situation, "More than likely. Question is, how do we snap her out of it without getting caught in the crossfire? I don't have much experience with guns." The reason should have been obvious, from his medieval armor and weaponry.
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A rogue shot hit her shoulder, another hitting her leg, and as the section seals clamped down to prevent infection she knew she had to take cover. Tali Let out a curse of frustration as she turned back, trying her best not to limp as she darted away from the battle to duck behind the pile of crates. An occupied pile of crates.
The instant she discovered she wasn't alone in hiding, Tali attempted to train her shot gun on the people she found there, the weapon pointed at the largest, strangest alien she'd seen in some time.
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Feel free to have Tali shooting anything you like during your posts :D
Re: Feel free to have Tali shooting anything you like during your posts :D
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WARNING. TRIGGERY SUBJECTS WITHIN.
Last Call snorts, panting for a moment. He's been at this for hours, taking a rotation with the other two figures in the room. "Man, this just doesn't get old." He grins over his shoulder at the Commander, who sips a bottle of beer as he leans his shield against the wall, and Teuton, smiling softly as he watches the entire scene. Last Call hammers the base of his bat into Apollo's mouth, causing him to spit out a tooth.
"C'mon, Call. You've had at the little nancy for long enough. It's my turn now." The Commander grins, adjusting his gloves.
"Hah, it's been that long already?" The Italian cracks his neck. "Fine. I need to step out to get some more beer, anyway." He grins, saluting the pair with two fingers, and heads out the door.
The Commander grins. He advances and opens his round with a harsh kick between Apollo's legs, forcing a cry of pain and helpless wheezing from the chained man. "God, you cry like a girl. It's like the first time, when I bent you over the goddamn cop car."
Teuton looks up, blinking. "You mean, you and he...?" He gestures vaguely, but the other man gets his meaning instantly, nodding with a grin. "Huh. How was he? I'd been considering, but you know how Last Call gets around gay men."
Apollo closes his eyes tightly, trying to do his best to drown them out. Happy thoughts. Anything. But the pain keeps him in the hear and now, and he can't help but work up a glare as the Commander laughs. "He couldn't get enough of it, though I've had better." He looks around, then grins. "Tell you what. Drag that table over here. We'll prop him up a bit."
Apollo whirls his head around, eyes glowing. He tries to blast the pair of them, but he can barely manage sparks enough to light a cigarette, let alone torch two post-humans. Teuton, fully charged with sunlight, knocks him silly with a blow that leaves him seeing stars.
"No," He gurgles, as they drag a table over. "No. No. No no no," He groans as they pick him up and settle him on it. He can hear the Commander's belt being undone. "Nonononono." Not again. He clenches his eyes tightly, muscles straining against the heavy chains. Midnighter!
Re: WARNING. TRIGGERY SUBJECTS WITHIN.
Even if Kara wasn't sure what that thing that she was good at was yet though.
Fighting back the machinations of the Nightmare King, maybe?
She froze as she saw the sight in front of her.
This was...this was taking it too far.
Her eyes went red.
And then fiery red heat vision went pouring of them.
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Teuton swears just as loudly in German, flinging up his arms to protect his face. His costume burns, and soon there's the smell of cooking flesh, but he lowers his arms and returns with bursts of solar fire from his eyes. He starts to push forward, an aura of sunlight appearing around his head as he closes the gap between them.
"Teuton, get your hands on that bitch and knock her eyes out!" The Commander pushes himself up and flings his shield at her throat, snarling. "The little skank wants heat? I'll just use her as a rag to clean up when I'm done with the faggot here."
Apollo is stunned at the intervention, and grits his teeth. He can feel the heat of the strange girl's vision. Still, he doesn't think that some heat and pretty looks will help her much with those two, and possibly Last Call, coming back soon. He grits his teeth and begins to strain once more, the heat making the chains a bit weaker than they should be. Several of the weaker links begin to peel apart this time, snapping and pulling apart a bit. In a few seconds, he should be free, for whatever good that will be.
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At all.
Kara frowned.
Guess I'm just like everyone else now, she thought. Thank Rao for Amazon training.
She rushed the one called Teuton.
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The Commander swears again, shaking his head and turning back to the more important matter at hand. He turns back to Apollo with a scowl. "Now, before I was so rudely..." He's interrupted by the sound of snapping metal, chain links dropping to the floor. Before he can react, Apollo's whirling around, swinging the length of heavy chain at his face. It catches the smaller man across the face, knocking him to the side for a bit.
Apollo stands, chains dangling from his wrists, and weaves a little. He doesn't have much in him right now, not after the beatings he's been taking. He spares Supergirl a quick glance, but has to hope she's good enough to handle Teuton on her own. As the Commander tackles him, well. He's got his hands full.
Re: WARNING. TRIGGERY SUBJECTS WITHIN.
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