2019.08.09:Fury Road Pt 3
| Fury Road | |
|---|---|
| The Frostbite pack accompanies the Devil's Own pack to the planet Mars, and a running battle ensues. | |
| IC Date | August |
| IC Time | Afternoon |
| Players | Aaryn Micah Aldric Sten and Royan, and to a lesser extent Jes Branton Isla and Pancake |
| Location | Fortress of Nerigal, Mars |
| Prp/Tp | Previous Fury Road Next |
| Spheres | Gaian Garou |
| Theme Song | War, What Is It Good For, by Edwin Starr |
The enemy's war rig begins to slow somewhat as their Galliard is wounded and his song stopped, which isn't much of a candle on being set on fire by a really angry pyro that never once signed up to be a hood ornament. Now I know what you're thinking; yay, we're winning, lookit those bad guys losin like a buncha chumps! And you ARE winning! Riiiiight up until someone notices the road ahead. And that can be anyone, ya'll have eyes, the only ones too busy to notice probably are Branton, the two Get he's setting on fire in the cab, and maybe Theron who's engaged in a slightly more extended battle.
Up ahead through the break in the storm, the gang barrels towards a huge stone bridge that will take them right up to Nerigal's front door. And that bridge is missing its entire middle. Now Aaryn, she was slightly more prepared for this, being a driver, and has made sure she's got full control over this tank when it comes to the inevitable gap jump. The other Get that are driving? They cant see shit except fire. Branton's back is to the bridge so he's definitely not seeing it.
Hunts the Shadow mutters to himself. "Fuck this shit. Time to get stupid." He slides his bow across his back and leaps toward the driver's side door of the great war machine, shouting the battle cry, "Parkour!" Using his momentum, he punches his clawed crinos fist through the window to grab the driver and is blasted by a roaring gout of flame coming off of Branton. With a growl of pain and rage as his body is lit on fire, Hunts the Shadow grabs the driver by the throat and tears him out through the window and slings him out into the storm to be crushed under the wheels of the racing demolition derby outside.
Theron has trained his whole life for this and it shows. The pure dedication and focus to his craft comes through with every attack. With a singular overheand slash the kinfolk drives Dainsleif through the Minotaur from shoulder to hip, killing it easily. In doing so however he moved within reach and took a claw swipe of his own that struck true through the armor.
Frostbite Pack Chat: Micah says, "We have to jump the canyon! It's a test of courage"
Through the portholes, Aaryn can see that Shadow has leapt free of the tank. As she turns back to survey the road ahead, she notices that the bridge is out. There's only one way to do this, and it's make this tank-puppy fly! ~Come on~ she says as she shoves her foot through the spirit's accelerator, ~you're earnin' your wings today!~ And with that promise, she drives like a Get outtta hell, straight towards the break in the bridge. Of course, tanks are a little heavy, even *if* they are earning their wings, so as the tank pushes past the edge of the bridge, it actually... Well, it doesn't fly. In fact, it crashes through the other end, tearing and breaking even more of the bridge in its drunken stumble. As it bounces, rocks and tilts, it finally does to a stop in a heap of dust and debris. Aaryn, who had braced for impact, looks around the cockpit. "Right," she says with a nod. ~You good in there?~
He was going to do something hilarious, like opening the door to have the enemy warform fall out of the moving vehicle. Hrafn was looking forward to seeing that happen. But then someone turns the entire cab of the car into a burning inferno so, that's a no go. The large winged Warformed Corax then sees it. The bridge up ahead, it is out. And Branton? He's having his back to it, setting shit on fire. And that seals the deal, really. Not even stopping the Ride of the Valkyrie song, the Rara Avis formed Corax suddenly shoots upwards, to then come down. Without warning the poor Sorcerer Kinfolk, he slams into him with his powerful claws, gripping his biceps strongly. His wings then does that textbook action that he has done so many times before. He extends them and applies the airbreaks, essentially turning him into a great big parachute! It yanks Branton from the hood of the car (and most likely pulls some ligaments in his shoulders. Sorry dude) before the bird then just sails away with the man, heading for the nearest friendly vehicle where no one will die whatsoever!
Sten looks towards where the damn vehicle is driving over to and there was only one choice the direwolf in the vehicle slams its paw against the damn fucking accelerator howling out his rage cause these damn machines run on it thusly he was trying to make it go faster make it jump higher as he barrels it down towards the ravine, he was gonna go down in a blaze of glory or he was going to make it. Full speed ahead and jump across the damn gulf... barely the back wheels touch the otherside of the bridge and he howls even louder in celebration of not dying to this stupid shit.
Ironsides makes his way towards their kinfolk, tossing people out of the way as he goes. He gets to Theron and grabs him up, it's not glamorous, there will be no swelling music as he's swept off of his feet. The Alpha curls himself around the other man, the big crinos wolf probably smothering him a bit as he grabs on and anchors the two of them to the vehicle as Sten makes the jump.
The break in the bridge is LARGE, it is *exactly* as large as it needs to be for these speeding vehicles though. Not too large and impossible, not too small and easy to pass, it's juuuuuust large enough to make this a 50-50 life or death 'are you brave enough to try me' jump. One MUST be willing to face certain death and still move forward if Nerigal is to even notice you, surely.
Aaryn makes it across, and Sten by some pure fucking magic manages to drive in hispo, sideways, ass end hanging out in the air, and still survive. The war rig is last though, slower because it's larger (and it's driven by Micah but let's not hold that against him). Inside there's a very angry mute crinos, but he CANT stab the Theurge because if he does then he's DEFINITELY going to die! So instead he snarls soundlessly at Micah, a wordless promise of 'I'll kick your ass later for murdering my alpha' and just... holds on.
Aldric and Theron are atop the war rig as well, and by the grace of Ironsides, Theron is spared the indignity of being hurled through the air. At the same time, Branton is yanked off the hood and, through buffeting winds, is sailed by a Corax to the other side to flop down on a still landing Sten-Car. The Galliard atop the war rig's cab is badly injured, but when Hunts begins to sing, he plays back up, giving the rig a tiny little speed boost with his injured guitar playing. HE doesn't wanna die either, so he's willing to help, right?
As for the Devil's Own pack, they're also attached to the war rig and what not, safely out of reach of Frostbite, but you know. There. Somewhere.
Hunts the Shadow reaches for the cord that works on the horn on the war rig to warn anyone on the other side to GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY! If there isn't a cord, he just pumps his arm in the air. Grinding his rage down into the vehicle to get that extra boost he growls at the passenger. "Fuck your alpha, now buckle up asshole!" He grits his teeth and slams his foot down on the gas, grabbing the steering wheel in a death grip. At the top of his lungs his sings "BLAAAAZE of GLOOORORO..." but the song dissolves into a scream of rage as the rig achieves a brief moment of weightlesness. The world around him starts to slow as anything not help down starts achieves altitude within the rig.
Then... SLAMCRASHGRINDROAR the rig slams into the other side, it's tires grabbing traction, losing spiritual rubber and threatening to jackknife on the other side as he hits the breaks to try and avoid hitting Ryn and Stenpy on the other side.
Aaryn tries to get her land-legs back and bounces through the tank's cockpit like a ball in a pinball game. Finally, she is able to stumble upon (quite literally) the hatch. She gives a good twist and a shove and pulls herself up through the opening. Those Parkour classes were really helpful, she'll have to tell Cait... Once she's scrambled to the ground, she makes a mental headcount, assessing the attendance and injury levels of her pack mates, Branton and Hrafn. Her keen eye for trauma and natural instincts leads her quickly to the side of her pack's Alpha. She looks him over and immediately discerns the location of his greatest wounds. She lays her hands across them, allowing her energy to flow through to him, knitting his injury together from the inside out. Once the major injuries are taken care of she slides her hands across his back, and abdomen, to ensure there are no major internal injuries, letting the rest of her energy do its work. When there's nothing left to heal, she squeezes his shoulder, gives him a nod and quickly turns to the next victim.
Poor Theron, from one moment of glory killing Minotaur to holding on for dear life to survive the jump. Then when across, his Girlfriend totally heals someone else first. Its fine, the Get is relishing in the glory, sword tight in hand as he takes in the surroundings with a brief moment to try and think.
And he's not turning into a ball of fire? Thats good! The large Rara Avis formed Corax, Hrafn, sails Branton the last bit of the way. He was not meant to carry heavy loads, but in this form .. and while paragliding like this, its really quite a breeze to get over that bridge. Once he sees a place to drop the man, he does so. He descends and then lets go once he is certain the man will land safely on Stens vehicle. Once done, he lets his wings beat hard, ascending into the sky to get e better view of this new.. Fresh Hell.. that they have arrived at. Speaking of fresh hells; he certainly looks like he has been through one. There is nothing majestic about him at all right now. Sandblasted ravens do not make for good showing off! Also? The Ride of the Valkyrie song? He finally stops emitting it.
Ironsides nods his thanks to the Godi as she mends his wounds, stepping back from Theron as everyone gets their footing once more. He looks back across the bridge at what's going on the other side of the gap before motioning for the pack to move further up the bridge. "Once we are mended we should get out of range in case they decide to start throwing things. Or shooting us."
Branton has about lost his shit trying to tear through into the cab of the war rig, setting shit on fire when suddenly a wild Micah appears and when Branton pauses in confusion A flying were-birb pulls him off the truck. The sight of the chasm catches Branton up short and he has just enough time to wonder when he gets dropped on a friendly vehical near what's left of the war rig. Branton starts stalking that way, in the direction of the cab, as the same white lightning from earlier starts up.
Sten gets out of the car. Bit wobbly on the legs but manages >>I TOTALLY JUMPED THAT IN HISPOS!<< the big direwolf grinning as only a wolf... can or can't its just alot of teeth so yeah... you figure it out. He moves over to the rest of them. >>Least Branton is safe<< looking to the big raven and to Branton and then the rest of Pack >>All good to head out?<<
It's a really good thing Nerigal's most likely used to things like explosions and stuff getting wrecked, because no one else would put up with this shit happening on their doorstep. Here, on the other side of the bridge, there is no storm. The air is calm, clear, and back the way the group came, they can see the massive storm breaking up and the incarna that fueled it sparking off to go bother other people trying to approach from some other place, raising hell-storms in the distance. The gang has landed on stone, and the few war machines that made it here are really reeeeeeeally beat the fuck up. Their growling voices coughing with pain and effort. Including the tank, whose vocal thoughts consist of yay, ow, ow ow, yaaaay, ow...
The red stone of the mountain gives way to an opening in the side big enough to fit fifty men side by side, and comfortable enough for a giant to walk through without bumping its head. To either side of the gate of war are two huge, HUGE spears set pointy side up in the ground, each with a massive, grotesque rotting head of a horror beast impaled on the spear blades, their ichor running down the shafts and into pits of purifying fire. Past that great entrance is a city built tier upon tier up inside the mountain, lit with scant floating fires and streams of red molten stone, its buildings hewn from the living rock of the volcano. It's quieter here, dark with shadows and more solemn, less chaotic but still obviously populated by spirits. These war spirits aren't the small, crazed beasts encountered in the shanty town. No, these are the generals of warfare, those that lead from the front. They're the first boot on Normandy beach and the first bullet fired at that boot, the end-game scream of defiance as Fat Man dropped and the poetic, amy-decimating revenge of Boudica, the essence of tactics, the spirit of victory. Here there be Totems. They don't rush the gates, they don't care about the crash or the survivors. You've made it here, and they accept that.
There is a clear, wide path of road leading to the heart of the volcano where a massive fortress looms over all, its design a strange merging of every defensive structure (that worked) ever built.
The driver side door of the war rig's cab opens and Micah...comes tumbling out in his homid form, his rage completely spent. His skin is flayed from standing on the back of the tank in the storm and what isn't flayed has been burned by Branton's flames when he tore into the cab. He hits the ground on all fours and then begins to push himself back up onto his feet, the gifts bestowed upon the Get allowing him to withstand the pain and keep moving. His hair has been partially singed off so it is short on one side, the tip of his left ear blackened gristle. Voice raw from screaming, he silently trudges towards the rest of his pack.
Branton nods at Micah on his way by and then with a FLASH of light, disappears. Branton crashing into the cab and tackling someone and crashing out the other side with a shout "We'll catch up!" and then what sounds like a beating being dispensed.
Seeing Micah drag his ass towards them smelling a bit like burnt popcorn, Aaryn rushes to his side. She sits him down and starts to work on his burns, letting her energy knit together his charred flesh. She works as quickly as she can and, when the major injuries are taken care of, she moves her hands across his abdomen, searching for signs of internal damage and letting the rest of her energy flow into him to take care of minor injuries. When she's done, she looks at him and squeezes his shoulder before making haste to Theron.
Seeing all he can see from up above, the large Rara Avis Corax decides that enough is enough. Hrafn never did like the Warform, even if it is .. moderately useful at times. So with a sudden desire to show off, the large creature suddenly turns on his back and folds those wings along his body. As he begins to plummet down, he suddenly sheds that large, hulking form to return to the raven he was always meant to be. He falls, quickly, to then level out at a safe distance from the ground with a quick extension of his wings. Even looking tattered like this, he's still a great flyer! Its not long before the descending bird lands upon the shoulder of one Raven-Steed, aka Aaryn. All in the midst of her trying to heal her pack. He needs a perch. Period.
Ironsides watches their foes dissolve or move off to their next victims makes the Get relax, even if only slightly, and he moves around to check on his pack. Branton's departure gets a raised eyebrow but he says nothing about the kinfolk moving on to another battle. He checks on each of Frostbite in turn, watching as Aaryn spends time with her brother before even he has to let out a small laugh as the raven finds his seat.
Sten looks between them all the adrenaline from the jump dissipating somewhat. Looking towards the city and the volcano >>Shall we go in then?<< the big steel grey dire wolf asks as he pads towards the others then a few steps past towards the gates and the volcano city thing.
Micah lets Aaryn heal him right up, too tired to even do the little brother "i'm fine don't embarass me in front of the other guys" thing that he might otherwise do. He takes out his bow, checking it for damage - just a few blackened areas - and counts the number of arrows his has left. His throat, now healed from all the screaming, allows him to say, "I think we should take the time to let Aaryn heal you, Theron and Hrafn. I don't know how much everyone else has left in the tank but I get the feeling we're gonna need the health we can get. I won't be able to shift for awhile I don't think."
Aaryn reaches Theron's side right as Sten questions what the next course of action is. Her brown knit together as she performs the same healing process on the Berserker. She briefly looks up to Micah, and then to Aldric. If he asks her to see to the others' wounds, she will. Even if they are not major. As Hrafn settles onto her shoulder, she keeps her posture balanced. When she's done, she reaches down to squeeze Theron's shoulder and afford him a brief kiss on the temple before moving to Aldric's side. She absently reaches up to stroke Hrafn's feathers, but pulls her fingers back when she senses the delicate state of... Disrepair, he is in.
Theron, being puppeted by Micah, has spent the last few rounds looking around for anything that might be a cool weapon or souvenir that he can bring home, because that is TOTALLY what Theron would be doing while he is waiting on his turn to be healed. Can't have enough weapons! Nope nope nope. Or fetishes, or talens, or anything that might have a pointed end that could be shoved into someone else.
The raven settles in on Aaryns shoulder, giving out just the slight kra-ing sound at she tries to pet his feathers which, basically, are hanging on by a thread at this point. His head turns, beak pointing at the gates, "We came here to go in there.." he says, but that is all he says about it because, when it comes down to it..
His gaze and beak goes to Ironsides, to Aldric.
Ironsides gives Aaryn's shoulder a gentle squeeze, because claws, then drops down to his prefered Hispo form to start walking towards the entrance. He doesn't look back, he knows they're going to be there, as he stalks his way towards the terrifying monolith in front of them.
Sten follows his Alpha looking to all of the pack to make sure they all come along with them, and looking over what their conditions are. >>You did well Hrafn<< he encourages the raven. >>You all have done well<< he expands to all, cause they all had done well in this crazy chase, now it was time to raise the spirits and walk in with heads held high.
The path is fairly quiet, although in the distance one can here different whistles faintly piping and the quiet, far off sounds of marching, heaving, or even animal breys. The road to Nerigal is made of smooth, round cobbles, and those mighty spirits glimpsed don't appear terribly interested in the pack that walks among them. As the fortress grows closer, its arms and defenses can be seen in all their strange glory. Enormous soldiers in blood red and burnt orange garb, enough weaponry to make Theron's brain explode, honestly if there was one place in the universe that definitely would not fall, it's gotta be this place.
There is a palpable sense of crushing majesty and doom as the pack draws towards the place, like a trip to the principal's office, your first day in bootcamp, the first time you met an elder, and dreading a mentor coming to have a Talk with you all rolled up into one stomach lump sensation. Through the gates, one can just make out an enormous human engaged in some sort of activity that cant quite be made out. Last chance to turn back if anyone's feeling weak!
Ironsides continues walking, heading inside the entrance with the rest of the pack. His eyes and ears are constantly moving, expecting some kind of attack as they head inside the mountain.
Micah trails at the back of the pack, cognisant of his inability to shift and letting the leaders and heavy hitters take the lead. He focuses his keen eyes and less on the road ahead and more on those around them, paranoid that at any moment, any of these spirits might decide to ambush them just to prove a point. He keeps an arrow knocked but pointed down towards ground - ready but not doing anything that might instigate a fight.
Aaryn falls into Step behind her Beta and just in front of Micah. She keeps her attention on the move, waiting for whatever might be next. She gently rubs a hand over her front pocket to soothe Bob. She's pretty sure she hears him cursing at Hrafn in the Spirit's Tongue in there. Her left hand checks to make sure String is still nestled in her hair and her right hand tugs a bottle of the Brew that earned from Journey out of her pocket, taking the cork out with her teeth and drinking a gulp before pushing the cork back in wit her tongue and tucking it away. She remains silent.
For the time being, the large raven that is Hrafn is quite content with riding on Aaryns shoulder into the Bastion of War. Looking down at the floor, the bird lets out a disconcerting Kra-Kra-Kra sound before he slowly begins to play the funeral dirge. Somewhere, he has picked up the funeral dirge and is now emitting it in an eerie manner. Someone has a morbid sense of humour; not to mention sense of decoration.
Hooray for bravery! There's probably a lot more to this fortress than what the pack is currently seeing, but any side routes are blocked by big, heavy doors and they're stuck with only a single short direction to go in. This path leads to a courtyard, but it lacks greenery, comfort or great works of art. Bare and stony, it's lined with racks of weapons, its space taken up by spirits training with each other for fierce combat in the End Days to come. The walls are decorated with more weapons, war trophies and strange celestial glyphs that glow an ominous red. Nerigal strides amongst the sparring groups, larger than life and radiating a strange mix of bravery, dread, blood lust and reserve.
Each individual Garou will see him the way they expect to see him; perhaps as Thor, or something else, this is entirely up to your character, the only constants are that it is male, Very Large, and very much the ideal form of whatever diety-form is seen. So, now that you've gotten here to the man himself, how do you plan to get Nerigal's attention? Whatcha gonna say to a God?
Theron walks to the left of Aaryn, sword at the ready he has a look mixed of determination and wonder. Eyes alert as he stays with the pack..
Frostbite Pack Chat: Ironsides has no idea how to approach a diety.
Frostbite Pack Chat: Sten says, "Fight him? Godis? What you say?"
Frostbite Pack Chat: Ironsides says, "I'd rather not die today.".
Frostbite Pack Chat: Micah says, "We will only die if we show fear and we choose words over war."
As Frostbite's thoughts run through their minds, they are shared amongst one another. But, as they near Nerigal and their footsteps slow, Aaryn lifts Hrafn with a forearm and lifts him toward Micah. She steps up, past Sten. ``Alpha`` She speaks, inside their link, ``You stand. Face-to-Face With Your Gods and Find Out What You Are.`` She comes to rest, beside Aldric and draws herself upright, and then continues to grow, transforming into her War Form. ``Hold Your Heads High, Brothers!`` And then, she chuffs, to ALdric >>HIT ME!<<
Frostbite Pack Chat: Ironsides's shock is evident. "For real?"
Frostbite Pack Chat: Guides the Dead says, "Or, I can hit you?"
Frostbite Pack Chat: Ironsides says, "I would rather, yes."
Ironsides looks askance at Aaryn, then looks over towards the massive form of Thor, because yes that's who it is. He draws himself up to his full crinosed height and roars at the massive deity. "I am Ironsides, Modi Cliath to the Get of Fenris, born on four legs. Descendant of Tarjei Hardrule, Great grandson of Ragnar "Spirit's Way", Grandson of Hilde "Battlemaiden" and child of Thurston "War Hammer" Ahroun leader of the Sept of the Endless Moon. Current Representative of the Get of Fenris with the Sept of the Enduring Spirit and Alpha of Frostbite, pledged to Hildesvini, Freya's Battleswine and of Fenris own. And we will have our audience."
Hrafn is handed off to Micah like so much dead weight! Well, he kinda is actually, right now. He's not really moving, looking a bit glum after ending the funeral dirge once realising he is in the presence of a Celestine. And his feathers are broken. He does not look majestic. So he just sits there, looking looming and glum. Wether it is on Aaryn or Micahs shoulder, it matters not! When Ironsides begins to speak, though, the raven perks up a bit. Now things are happening again!
Theron's feet shift just so, readying his weight and lifting his longsword at the ready. Preparing for a battle he is almost certain Thor...er...Nerigal is going to give them, if not directly than via the other war spirits.
Nerigal turns his head at the sound of this small voice amidst the clash of battle practice, looking around him before looking down to spot the pack. Squinting at the Garou, he eyes them each up and down and says with a coarsly joking smirk, "Bit small, aren't you?" There's no pomp and circumstance with him, no great formalities, he doesn't even introduce himself. Not that he needs to. "What do you want?"
Sten steps up shifting to Galbro which is large but not anyway close to the big guy. "We have come to gain your favor" he wasn't making any flowery speech about it or trying to make it seem impressive, just straight out and to the point since it seemed to be the big mans vibe.
Frostbite Pack Chat: Guides the Dead says, "tell him our purpose, ask him to give us his blessings?"
Frostbite Pack Chat: Theron says, "Go for it...if you dont I will...how often do I get to talk to War Incarnate."
Frostbite Pack Chat: Ironsides says, "Go for it."
Guides the Dead steps up, behind Stormhowler and, pulling herself to her full height and holding her head high, she says, ~We have risen to the challenge given us by our elders and sought your blessings. We have come to test ourselves in your realm, and have defeated our foes and found our way to your doorstep. As you can see, we are extraordinary. We will make our mark as Get of Fenris, as legends. And we would carry your name with us. We ask your blessing, Nerigal, so that our enemies might taste your steel upon our blades and feel the cut of your rage upon our claws.~
The Celestine avatar quirks a brow at the request, looking past them back the way they came, then back to the pack again, "You went through all of that just for my favor?" He sounds a bit surprised, rubbing his jaw with a calloused hand for a moment of thought. "Yes... Extraordinary... Well I'm convinced you're not delusional wraiths or spirits, so extraordinary young Cliaths must be true. Very well, granted." he says, and without warning he produces a hammer from seemingly nowhere and smashes it into the ground, forks of lightning ripping through the ground to frankly zap the ever living shit out of the Frontbite pack. It isn't lethal, but welcome to life with with an electro-afro. It'll wear off eventually, around the same time you stop static shocking yourself on everything. WHAT his 'favor' entails (aside from SURPRISE PAIN!) is yet to be seen, but it's apparently 'granted'.
