trans_9 | The Breaking Point [OPEN Bendytimed to shortly after the Meat n Greet, and the announcement therein]

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The Breaking Point [OPEN Bendytimed to shortly after the Meat n Greet, and the announcement therein]

Characters: Samuel Henderson, OPEN
Location: Corridor outside the Obs Deck, a bit out of the way
Time: Immediately following the explanation of the current state of affairs re: the Ohm, worlds, and whatnot.
Summary: Sam loses it. And nearly himself in the process.
Warnings: Definite blood warning, and anyone that tags may be attacked. Poke me on AIM (girlnamedlance) or via OOC comment if you want to work out something specific. Generally, I'm open to anything, I just don't want any kind of long lasting damage. And I'd like a little chaos to ensue before Spike, Leon, or anyone subdues him. And if he ends up in the brig awhile, I totally understand. Lastly, multiple threads are a-okay. 8D

It would be easier to let go. Give up. Let the beast that slept inside him take hold and exact its revenge for the deaths of his friends and family. But no. It wasn't these peoples' fault. They were all gone. His brother, Jared. His beloved wife, Angelina. His mentor, Dr. Crawford. Lord Ruthwen himself. That a man that had survived so much could be dead just didn't seem real. That the single oldest corporeal entity on Earth was gone...

He ran from the Observation Deck, and blindly made a few turns until the dull noisome drone of the new arrivals faded to nothing. All of his medicinal poise was gone, in its place, was pain he'd long thought he would never have to feel. He'd foolishly grown complacent. He pressed his back against the wall, but his legs shook. His fingers lengthened, grew more bestial. A ring of blood formed and dripped down his fingers as his expanding flesh struggled to overcome the constricting wedding band. His nails became claws, razor sharp and predatory. His eyes were a deep blood red, and the whites bloodshot, giving him a maddened appearance.

How could someone like him be the only one left? How was he supposed to be some kind of chosen when he could fill a page with names of people that would be better suited to this task than himself. It was all a joke. He didn't have the strength to do this, in any sense. That their blood had been spilt for some unknown purpose...

Blood. He could smell it. His own, but even just that was enough. He breathed heavily, his jaw slack, as his fangs grew longer. The drone of voices grew louder in his ear, as his senses elevated. They would have no idea what had hit them before they were dead.

--No! Sam struggled against the bloodlust. Suddenly, he felt as though it had been far too long since he'd last fed. He folded his arms, as though he were physically restraining the reaction inside of him. He clenched his upper arms with his claws, piercing straight through to his skin. The thicker scent of blood in the air only made things worse. He screamed as he fought to regain control. If he hurt anyone he would never forgive himself. If he took anyone's life, he had only his own to offer in reparation.

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The wounds on his upper arms closed before their eyes. Sure, he was still covered in blood, but he wasn't actually wounded, aside from the one his ring created.

He watched him go for his gun again. "That won't save you. Or stop me."

Tycho's eyebrows drew together further at the boy's next words, before his eyes widened. "You're not ..." he took a step backwards, re-drawing his blaster. "Were you the one who screamed," he demanded, voice harsh, "or did you attack someone." Just because a person is covered in blood, doesn't mean it's theirs.

Of course, Tycho was still getting it wrong, but at least he was getting closer ...

"That came from me, yes. But that's irrelevant. I'm hungry, you know." He started toward him a bit more quickly.

Then, faster than one could blink, he launched himself at the pilot, lashing out with both claws as he went. How was your reaction speed without a targeting computer, Tycho?

Tycho's eyes narrowed in confusion again, even as he was backing up more quickly. "Hungry ...?" But the question became completely lost as the boy launched himself at Tycho. The pilot's reflexes were excellent; they had to be, for him to be one of the best pilots in the galaxy. Still, at the same time, Sam was moving at a speed that his ordinary human joints and sinew couldn't hope to match. He got a shot off, and the blaster bolt might have grazed Sam's shoulder, might even have hit a little closer than that, but Tycho couldn't tell, because then this ... creature was on him, clawing an ripping and there were slashes being torn in Tycho's orange flight-suit, lines of red being drawn in the skin underneath. Tycho hit out with his other hand even as he fell, collapsing backwards under his attacker's weight. Shooting blasters as such close quarters was very difficult, and dangerous, but Tycho tried again anyway, attempting to bring the nozzle of his blaster down so that he could get a half-way decent shot in ...

The first shot was a graze across his shoulder that sizzled, but still healed. But one of Sam's hands grabbed the wrist of the shooting arm, and jerked upward. He tightened his grip, painfully so, waiting for the moment for the gun to be released.

"No!"

The word was more yowled than spoken, as a small ball of black fur streaked toward the two of them as fast as she could move. She didn't know Tycho's full name - couldn't put up a person-specific shield - but she had other ways.

The Speech spilled off her tongue, spat out the way an angry cat does at a threat, her eyes wide and her fur standing fully on end. Never in her life had she wished more for the form she took in Old Downside; the sabre-toothed panther would have been able to smack him aside in a heartbeat.

As it was, a shield sprang into place around Rhiow as she launched herself, full force and with the aid of just a little magic, straight into the attacker, all claws extended. The force of the aided blow knocked him clear of Tycho - and might have given him a couple of claw marks to boot. She backed up onto the fallen Tycho's chest and growled three more words, the shield expanding to contain both of them, before she laid her ears back and hissed, glaring with all the angry force a cat could ever muster.

Tycho was wincing in pain, hand shaking as he struggled not to drop his blaster, when suddenly a small black blur sailed over his head. "What ...?" he didn't think he had lost enough blood yet to be hallucinating. What else could it be though? But suddenly the person attacking him was knocked away, and he had a very angry pitten sitting on his chest.

".... Rhiow?" he asked somewhat distantly as he tried to steady his blaster and aim it at Sam. The claw marks weren't that bad, he hadn't lost that much blood, he was fine ... or at least he had enough adrenaline running through his system to feel fine right now ...

Sam didn't understand how a cat could have possibly knocked him away like that. But it had, and it was clearly doing something to keep him from getting at his dinner again. And the human still had his gun. He just sneered, ready to dodge in whatever direction he had to. Perhaps now was a good time to escape while he still could.

"Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrlll," Rhiow said, reduced to an animalish lack of words as he prowled around the outside of her shield. Tycho had begun to stir underneath her, but she stayed where she was, her hackles up and her teeth bared in a snarl.

"Hihhhh sshai-sau sswaiss,¹" she hissed, slipping into Ailurin without even meaning to. "This ehhif² is under my protection, and I claim eius'hss³ over this spot - if you want hruiss⁴, I will shred your ears so badly you'll think you're the Ragged-Eared Tom looking in the mirror."

She lashed her tail. "Lie still, Hhy'shho. As long as you don't leave the circle, he can't get to you. Vhai,⁵ I'm glad I decided to come after all."

1. Bloody crazy son of a bitch
2. Human
3. Control, dominance
4. Territory fight (traditionally between two toms)
5. Damn

Tycho knew about Rhiow's magic in a theoretical sense- he had seen her appear out of thin air in their quarters, so obviously it could do things he wouldn't expect and didn't understand. However, while he knew about machine-generated personal shields, the idea that Rhiow could generate a shield with her magic was again, something foreign to him. She had knocked his attacker away somehow this was true, but he hadn't really been able to see. And now, she paced the edge of something and told him to be lie still. Of course, he trusted her, and of course, he knew Rhiow could fight, could protect herself very well. But still, the idea that she was smaller therefore she needed to be protected was lodged deep in his brain. Ignoring her admonishion to lie still, he rolled over onto his side, using the floor to steady his blaster-hand as he sighted down the barrel at their enemy.

"Rhiow," he said urgently, "be careful, he can move quickly, very quickly-" He had barely been able to get a shot off before, and now that he was fighting injured, and had someone to protect- if Sam made a move, Tycho wasn't sure he would be able to get a shot off in time. Time for a little preemptive shooting then. His finger was already tightening on the trigger ...

[[OOC: Right, so Tycho can't see the shield, and he can shoot through it. He still hasn't quite squeezed the trigger all the way yet though, so roll with whatever you want <3]]

Edited 2010-04-07 17:18 (UTC)

When the shot went off, Sam was already moving. He vaulted over the shielded man, over the cat, and onward down the hall. He disappeared around the corner of the next corridor.

He was gone.

That was faster than any human Rhiow had ever seen move - but then, it had become very clear very rapidly that he was not entirely human. She looked back at Tycho, the growl dying in her throat. "Are you all right? I told you not to move-"

As she spoke, she felt her shield fizzle and die in her mind and pressed her ears back to her skull in annoyance. So they were still doing that. Wonderful.

Tycho relaxed as the man disappeared, forehead sagging forward against the ground. "I'm fine," he mumbled from his face down position. "Fine ... just a couple scratches." A couple scratches that were soaking his flight suit red instead of orange, and now starting to drip onto the floor.

"I'll just go down to medical, slap a couple patches on, and I'll be good to go. Just ... gimme a second ..." The adrenalin was starting to leave, and Tycho was definitely starting to feel the sting of it. He winced as he shifted, in preparation for getting back up.

Rhiow flipped her tail at him in annoyance, the hackles rising again on the back of her neck as he struggled to sit up. She could smell his blood thick in the air and it frightened her. "By the Queen Iau, stop moving, would you?" she said, her tone strained.

She trotted around him, laying out the basics of a long-jump transport circle - those characters, glittering gold on the deck of the ship, he would surely see. "Name for me, in order, your full name, your date of birth, your place of birth, your favorite time of day-" she continued, listing all sorts of inconsequential details about him. Let him think she was questioning him to make sure he hadn't hit his head on the way down. She needed his name, and was cursing herself for not getting it before now.

Rhiow cocked her ear to the side, listening to the Whisperer breathe the syllables of his name in her ear as each answer came to her.

Tycho grimaced as he pressed his hand to his abdomen, trying to slow the bleeding. He turned, trying to rip at the sleeve of his flight suit to make an improvised bandage ... not enough fabric. He might have to go for the leg. Fortunately, before he could bend over, he was momentarily distracted by the characters that were appearing on the floor in Rhiow's wake.

"Uh." Tycho blinked. "Rhiow ...? You're not ...?" His face crinkled in confusion at her questions, but he began to answer them, even as he winced as the movements of his chest stretched the cuts, causing more blood to leak over his fingers. Grimacing again, he pressed his other hand to his chest as well. "Colonel Tycho Celchu, born XXXXX by the Alderaanian standard calender, Aldera City, Alderaan ..." A pause for breath, and more blood flowed over his fingers. Two hands was not enough to cover the wounds completely. They were relatively shallow, but still, he'd been bleeding long enough that he was starting to feel a little dizzy. "Favorite time of day is- uh-" Tycho shook his head. "Early morning?" he tried. "Rhiow, what are you ...?"

Tycho's name slowly began to take shape on the floor, the characters slotting together in that natural way they did when they were forming the innermost description of a person. Rhiow tried to ignore the knowledge that came with reading it - planet destroyed long ago, loves his mate dearly. She snagged the end of the character string with one claw and pulled it over next to her own, plugging it into the placeholder and tacking it in place.

"I'm taking you to Medical," she said, not bothering to waste breath chastising him for moving again. Instead, she settled down and began reading the spell. Tycho would hear it for what it was - it was in the Speech, of course. "This is a localized spatial relocation construct for long-jump transport between the following two coordinates-"

As she continued the spell, the sounds of the ship fell away, until the two of them were contained in a bubble of silence - and then as she continued, the silence seemed to lean in and listen. "-spell for transport of the following persons-" she barreled through her own name, the familiar feeling of it falling off her tongue flattening the fluff of her fur slightly, and then came to Tycho's. She slowed, lingering over each syllable and pronouncing them with a great deal of care. "Power to be taken from Rhiw'aow in the form of personal energy exchange, including minimal standard atmosphere-" the spell wound down to a close, the pressure of the air around them seeming to squeeze-

And then with a sharp clap of displaced air, they vanished from the observation deck and appeared in Medical.

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The Breaking Point [OPEN Bendytimed to shortly after the Meat n Greet, and the announcement therein]

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