handofrapture (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thisavrou_log2017-01-02 09:15 pm
handofrapture) wrote in thisavrou_log2017-01-02 09:15 pm
Entry tags:
all that blood was never once beautiful [closed]
Who: Big Sister and Rinzler
When: The beginning of January
Where: In one of the nearby caves
What: In Bioshock, red lights are a signal that the being wearing them wants to wear your guts for garters. This presents an obvious problem for a certain red-circuited program minding his own business.
Warnings: Violence, two assholes trying to stab each other in the dark
[It’s finally over
A lack of ADAM means she still doesn’t have access to her plasmids, but as the month comes to an end, at least the heavy, smothering feeling of weakness ebbs away. She’s still not as strong or fast as she was before coming here, but after a month of being too feeble to even wear armor, even a partial resurgence is a relief.
The trip to the caves is more of a test than anything, a chance to see how much of her strength had returned -- and how much still hasn’t. Even at partial strength, she’d been a formidable opponent to the creatures that lived there before. Now, garbed in her full armor and stronger than before, she’ll be even more of a threat. And if things do get chancy, there’s always that mysterious cave water to allow her to either finish a fight or escape from one with the temporary help from her plasmids.
In other words, she feels quite confident stepping into the cave. She knows what kind of danger to expect and she knows how to react to it. At least, that’s what she thought.
As it so happens, she isn’t prepared when, after several minutes of moving deeper into the cave, she hears a low rumble and sees red lights glowing balefully in the darkness. Her mind flips through several options in the space of a second, none of them good. The lights are too small to be a Big Daddy, too mobile to be a turret, and not in the right place to be another Sister. No, this is something new. But that color tells her everything she needs to know about its intentions.
In an instant, the color of her own light changes to match, going from yellow to furious red, and what starts as a growl quickly grows to a steel-edged shriek. If it wants to challenge her, she's more than happy to reciprocate.]
When: The beginning of January
Where: In one of the nearby caves
What: In Bioshock, red lights are a signal that the being wearing them wants to wear your guts for garters. This presents an obvious problem for a certain red-circuited program minding his own business.
Warnings: Violence, two assholes trying to stab each other in the dark
[It’s finally over
A lack of ADAM means she still doesn’t have access to her plasmids, but as the month comes to an end, at least the heavy, smothering feeling of weakness ebbs away. She’s still not as strong or fast as she was before coming here, but after a month of being too feeble to even wear armor, even a partial resurgence is a relief.
The trip to the caves is more of a test than anything, a chance to see how much of her strength had returned -- and how much still hasn’t. Even at partial strength, she’d been a formidable opponent to the creatures that lived there before. Now, garbed in her full armor and stronger than before, she’ll be even more of a threat. And if things do get chancy, there’s always that mysterious cave water to allow her to either finish a fight or escape from one with the temporary help from her plasmids.
In other words, she feels quite confident stepping into the cave. She knows what kind of danger to expect and she knows how to react to it. At least, that’s what she thought.
As it so happens, she isn’t prepared when, after several minutes of moving deeper into the cave, she hears a low rumble and sees red lights glowing balefully in the darkness. Her mind flips through several options in the space of a second, none of them good. The lights are too small to be a Big Daddy, too mobile to be a turret, and not in the right place to be another Sister. No, this is something new. But that color tells her everything she needs to know about its intentions.
In an instant, the color of her own light changes to match, going from yellow to furious red, and what starts as a growl quickly grows to a steel-edged shriek. If it wants to challenge her, she's more than happy to reciprocate.]
no subject
Clearly, the solution is murder.
Rinzler went into the caves looking for trouble. Something to fight, to break, a threat to wipe away and serve his purpose in this group. A distraction, to keep from thinking on what's next. Most of all, he wants a chance to work right. The tooth-creatures he'd run into before were weak and stupid, but they'd at least provided him that opportunity.
The shriek that splits apart the darkness is more promising.
Rinzler turns. Rinzler moves. Hands drop to the batons at his sides, frame ducking from hunch to a coiled, liquid crouch. He takes two steps forward to the left, a zigzag approach to the glowing, shifting pulse of light. Scans are all but null, threat assessment by visuals alone... and there is something familiar about the odd orb of color. But far more familiar is the snarl, the shift, the gleam of light on jagged edges.
Threat threat threat and the enforcer's sound growls back.
Bring it.]
no subject
She wastes no time with formalities. Perhaps if she had her plasmids, she’d open with a blast of Incinerate or see how well the creature dodged a telekinetic whirlwind of stone. Lacking those options, her attack is pure speed and force, one arm braced in front of her as she charges at the red-lit shadow, aiming to barrel it over or, should it try and dodge, lash out with one of the long, sharp needles strapped to her arms. Maybe if she spills blood, she'll get a better idea of what she's up against.]
no subject
Unacceptable. Rinzler hooks the weapon with his own baton, frame slanting in to throw her headlong charge off-balance... before the lean turns to a dragging pull, and he uncoils in a leap. The enforcer's weight drops entirely on the junction of their arms, body twisting in a sinuous roll to bring his lower body up in a two-legged kick, aiming for the side of the threat's neck. Its armor looks solid enough—overbuilt, if anything—but joints are always another issue.
Maybe he can snap its neck. Or remove it.]
no subject
no subject
Taunting is an art form too.
Noise ticks out, steady and even, but there's a faint skip behind the errors now. Mocking? Satisfied? This is fun, this is right, this is an enemy worth killing. He regards it for a moment, mapping all the sharp-spiked blades and hidden edges, before the black helmet dips, sharp and angled and amused.
Does it want to try again?]
no subject
It doesn’t matter. Both of their lights are still bright and red, which means the fight isn’t over. She doesn’t make an all-out charge again, this time advancing with needles raised defensively. The creature has shown itself to be both quick and acrobatic, but there’s not much space in the cave. If she can push it back so it’s fighting with its back to the wall, it won’t have as much room to dodge or counter. And if it doesn’t back away? She’s still plenty strong enough to do damage with her needles even without a running start.]
no subject
...it makes him itch to pull his disks. Split them, light them, throw and launch and force this creature to charge. Make it match violence with violence, not this steady creep of something that still expects to live. But he can't use his disks—can't even rezz a template from his baton. Not if he wants to stay online.
That's fine. Rinzler is a weapon. And a much better one than it.
One step back. Another. He matches the rhythm of its steps, but doesn't try to hold the distance, letting it close right to the edge of reaching. His next step should stumble, should falter up against the wall. But Rinzler doesn't falter, Rinzler doesn't miss. And that wall isn't a trap for him.
It's leverage.
He steps and kicks, reversing with a jagged, zigzagged lunge. The diagonal takes him to the outside of her leading weapon, baton curving to deflect a spin, and it would be natural to plant, to flip, turn momentum into another display of distance and skill. But Rinzler wants satisfaction, wants shattered code or blood, and instead, the weight that touches down slams back, a dropping, savage kick aiming to crumple its knee inwards. Break it. Ruin it. See what's inside.]
no subject
She takes advantage of the close quarters to lunge at the creature with one of her needles, the other raised and ready to parry. The attacking needle plunges downward; she’s not interested in finding a vein – truth be told, she can’t detect the scent of ADAM or even blood anywhere on the creature. But she’s sure the sound of that black shell cracking and buckling will be just as satisfying.]
Sorry for delay!
Reversing would be a waste of time—and dangerous, with as much reach as its stabbing weapon gives. Rinzler moves instead with his momentum, form twisting narrowly aside from the descending point as he closes the gap. The blades are long, but not flexible, and as closely fused as they seem to be to the thing's arms, he's not even sure it can use them up close. A poor design, for a weapon.
His grip reverses on his own baton, jabbing up beneath the creature's throat, where the bulbous mask connects to its shoulders. Time to test the integrity of that armor. The enforcer's focus stays wide, ready to avoid the spindly limbs... but Rinzler's free hand goes for his PAC-disc, tapping out a quick sequence. In case.]
no problem!
And then the bulk of her helmet slams forward, aiming to smash into the curved dome of the creature’s own mask.
It wants to see how solid her armor is? She’s more than happy to demonstrate.]
no subject
He needs a blade.
The enforcer's head tucks, point down against his chest. For a change, there's no evasion. No effort to retreat or slip aside, no drop or flip or dodge. His frame stays braced, a jagged forward lean as the threat's mask slams down into his own with a rattling impact. It doesn't break the surface, but it's enough to white out visuals. Enough to stun or daze a normal being.
It's enough to hide the view as the long user knife rezzes from Rinzler's PAC-disc to his empty hand. And plunges forward.]
no subject
Only the creature isn’t dazed. She has only a moment to react to the glint of steel flashing through the air before something long and serrated pierces her side, a shriek of pain escaping her throat. She can’t think about it, can only use it as fuel as she follows through with her attack, body twisting as she uses what little distance she has to thrust a needle upwards in an attempt to skewer the creature through its chest. Her wounded side pivots away, the pain only worsening at the movement, and she knows she’ll be the weaker for it in the long run if this fight drags out. Win or lose, this has to end fast.]
no subject
A subtype, maybe. Rinzler postpones classifications for later, swaying back from the upwards jab and hooking his baton around the blade to push with the threat's momentum. If he can create an opening, he'll use the knife again: a quick slice toward the outside of its leading shoulder.]
/necromancies this thread
/bows to your cleric skills~
He could trap it. He could grab the wrist, slip back into its defenses: trip or throw or knock it to the ground. For all its speed and ability, technique isn't something he'd attribute to this threat, and even in his current state, Rinzler is sure that he could outmanuever it if he tried.
Or...
The enforcer glances back, twists his weight onto that hand, and drives back in with a rapid, forceful kick right for that damaged side.]