Steve Burnside (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
craaazyisland) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trans_92010-11-01 02:37 pm
craaazyisland) wrote in trans_92010-11-01 02:37 pm
Entry tags:
- !location: the city,
- !plot: veronica rising,
- angie spica,
- billy cranston,
- claire redfield,
- devlin levin,
- dustin brooks,
- irma lair,
- jamie mccrimmon,
- jayne cobb,
- katara,
- leon s. kennedy,
- luis sera,
- luke skywalker,
- miku hinasaki,
- nanoha,
- negi springfield,
- queen nanashi,
- renne,
- spider-man (younger),
- steve burnside,
- tsukasa kadoya,
- wash,
- yzak jule
The Rebirth of Veronica (Phase One)
[ooc: PLOT POST IS HERE! Read it!]
He stalked through the hallways like a shadow, moving too quickly for anyone to keep a bead on him for long. There almost seemed to be a purpose in his movement as he made his way through the dark corridors of the ship, though it was impossible to tell where he was headed. Perhaps the young man whose body had been hijacked was exerting some kind of control, or perhaps Veronica was doing the driving.
Whatever the case, the Tyrant made his way to the City.
He emerged from the tunnels and into the wide open space, at last free of the cramped hallway. He took a few steps into the streets and sniffed the air, smelling human blood. He roared, a horrible and twisted noise, then headed into the streets.
She demanded they all bow to her. They were little more than prey for the Queen in the grand scale of things. These thoughts rang hollow in a primal mind, though, but he knew what he had to do.
They would all die.
He stalked through the hallways like a shadow, moving too quickly for anyone to keep a bead on him for long. There almost seemed to be a purpose in his movement as he made his way through the dark corridors of the ship, though it was impossible to tell where he was headed. Perhaps the young man whose body had been hijacked was exerting some kind of control, or perhaps Veronica was doing the driving.
Whatever the case, the Tyrant made his way to the City.
He emerged from the tunnels and into the wide open space, at last free of the cramped hallway. He took a few steps into the streets and sniffed the air, smelling human blood. He roared, a horrible and twisted noise, then headed into the streets.
She demanded they all bow to her. They were little more than prey for the Queen in the grand scale of things. These thoughts rang hollow in a primal mind, though, but he knew what he had to do.
They would all die.
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He paid little or no attention to who or what he was stepping on.
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Unable to hold back the screaming yelp, the oddity holds still for about fiftene seconds to ascertain exactly two things: Something just stepped on him and that was a big something. And it bloody well hurts.
Distancing himself from the pain as much as he's able, his Within slams down a series of walls -- damned if he'd let the Bondeds feel this! -- then reacts in a very primal, very instinctive way. His fangs come down and he bites. Hard.
The stage-one itch of this venom makes athlete's foot look like a mere tickle.
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"Sorry, but this is one monkey that's not getting off your back," he quipped, slamming the Tyrant's head with a double-axe handle.
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The Tyrant barely felt the bite, distracted by the whack in the head. He roared in anger and reached back, snagging the attacker by the foot and slamming him over his shoulder and into the pavement in front of them.
His foot ground down hard on the creature underfoot, then lifted away. Blood began to trickle from the bite wound, igniting into unnatural flame as soon as it touched the ground-- or anything else still stuck to the wound.
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While normally, he likes heat and tends to leech it in the name of survival (the hotter the better), this time, he's dragging/edging himself back to try and avoid another stepping-on.
The voice above the stomping-thing...or is it the stomping thing?...turns his ears forward, then up a bit. Screeching a warning as loudly as he can, his fangs give a flash, then a spray, sort of like a spitting cobra.
Don't laugh at his aim. You can't aim when you can't see but maybe this time, he'll hit the broad side of a
barnrampaging behemoth. Hello, liquid pepper spray.no subject
"Oh. Great. He bleeds fire. This is just the best day ever." He shot a webline, pulling Renne out of the way of the Tyrant's foot, and fired a solid web ball into it's open mouth.
"While I gotta admire your courage, little blue guy? Leave the massive stupidity to the professionals."
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He's a top student of Massively Stupid 101. Chirping with grittef teeth, the beastie crawls/drags back a bit further and spits another twin jet of venom. Push comes to shove, he'll bloody well Transcend.
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The webslinger's mind raced. This fight wasn't going well, and it was high-time they backed off and came up with a new plan. But for that to work, he needed to distract it, and he caught sight of the fact that Steve's heart was sticking out of his chest.
"Hey ugly! Think fast!" He weblined a piece of rubble, flung it with extreme accuracy at the organ, and then ran, scooping up Renne along the way.
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Well, that's a surprise. With as many times as he can count on a paw with someone saving his neck, his startled squeak might not be surprising. Still, the oddity latches onto Spidey. He can't get his nine wings out right now and he really, really doesn't relish falling.
"Yeu do fly?"
Oi. Even amid a crisis, he can still be curious.
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The Tyrant took one final swing at them as they rushed by, stifled by the strike in the heart. He trembled and once they were out of his way, he rushed off down the street and away.
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And then he gives a shake of his head. Whispering at first a very old, very strictly adhered-to line, the oddity doesn't loosen his hold on the spiderhuman.
"Ad na ddyn ar ôl. Rrrr-enne noh do tha-t. Rrrr-enne wahn-t hell-p yeu."
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Once Renne was ready, Peter fired a webline, flying into the air like a streak of light.