2019.08.09:Orrery Adventures: Nerigal (Pt2)
| Orrery Adventures: Nerigal | |
|---|---|
| The Devil's Own run into a kidnapping situation while seeking the Celestine for a stone for Iris's Orrery | |
| IC Date | August |
| IC Time | Afternoon |
| Players | Jes, Branton, Isla, Sean, and Iris, and to a lesser extent Aaryn, Micah Starnes, Aldric, Sten, and Royan |
| Location | Slopes of Olympus Mons, Mars |
| Prp/Tp | Previous Orrery Adventure Next |
| Theme Song | Jesus Built My Hotrod, by Ministry |
When we last left our heroes...
The Howling Wrath pack had just kidnapped Branton with a dirty trick, Galliard and Ragabash shoving spirits at the Devil's Own while their Ahroun leader just runs off with their Fire Man. Dicks! The pack had just pushed past their rowdy and violent speed bumps to see Branton get tied to the front of a big, cobbled together war rig made of rage and spirit stuff, and then start to drive off with the poor guy. You could say it's sort of like a parking lot, there's a lot of different sorts of war-based vehicles here; chariots pulled by flaming war steeds, WW2 gunner bikes, tanks, I mean just think of something meant to ride into battle anywhere in time, and it's there somewhere probably. Point is, Grand Theft Auto Mars is now available.
Iris, who has bamphed herself into crinos when her man done got stole, begins to run after the pack but stops short, looking for her packmates. AH SHIT. She cant just run off without them, but they're getting awaaaaaay!
Fiery Bellona was not happy about this either, leaving Sean and Jes to get going on their own, since this was /there/ kinfolk - not just Iris' bootycallfiancedearestlove etc etc. In Crinos, running to take off at top speed, wings out, she is sailing after this vehicle at a breakneck pace. She is /going/ to catch up to them, and /going/ to get a hold of that vehicle and then? Those fuckers will be in a WORLD of hurt.
As always, Death's Jester tries a slightly different tactic. The Lethal Ladies are already in hot pursuit, right? Well, might as well try to hinder the quarry. Shifting up to Crinos height, he roars, >>THE DREAD PIRATE ROBERTS IS HERE FOR YOUR SOULS!<< as his left eye glows a vivid, baleful crimson to inflict pain and misfortune on his enemies.
Branton got kidnapped and strapped to the grill of a giant truck like a big hood ornament. While waiting for whatever the garou who took him did to wear off Branton fidgets and tests the shackles holding him, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Before the Get are completely in and on the go, every one of them howls out a pained sound, but god damn it they're not gonna let this stop them! With a pained whine, the Galliard gets to rocking on top of the cab with his fetish guitar, and the two inside do whatever they do. Whimper a lot, probably!
With Isla in the air, she can see the bare slopes of Olympus Mons ahead of them, and the war rig starts in that direction, picking up speed.
Iris feels that GO! is an approved course of action now that her alpha's taken the lead, and she runs for a chariot. Not into its box though, but onto the burning horse itself with a scream of rage and a kick to get it going. "JES! SEAN!" she calls. She's got an open chariot, after all!
Those War spirits aren't taking this lying down either. Getting jostled around, some dude screaming painfully, and now they're STEALING THEIR CARS! Naturally, the spirits take this as an opportunity to do what comes naturally to them: Give chase and try to kill all of you.
Fiery Bellona is swift and determined. Flying toward destiny of the world of pain she is going to inflict. She aims and lands just perfectly ont the back of this truck, her wings then going away for now. She scrambles up and around to where the shield is blocking the Galliard, and looks at it to figure out the best way to smash it in.
Branton winces as the wind and sand tear at his skin and continues fidgeting and pulling to try and get loose from the shackles or get the shackles loose from the grill of the Rig.
Jes leaps onto Iris' chariot of fire as a springboard, hopping up and unfurling his wings before making a bullet-like leap forward and following his alpha with a battle cry of >>COWABUNGA!<<.
The rig speeds along and Isla's ears are assaulted by that sweet sweet Norwegian metal the Skald is cranking out to effectively Hootenanny his group with. The 'shield' is more a cobbled together mess of fetish work and spirit stuff, it'd be pretty tough to go through and going around or over it IS possible but there's always a risk of falling.
A storm starts to form as the gang speeds along, Jes in flight and Isla just ahead of the pack with Iris and Sean catching up. RIGHT behind them is a massive gaggle of pissed off (just because) War and Violence spirits of all kinds speeding after them for no other reason than to stop them moving forward. And also because it's fun. Lightning begins to flicker and flash, and the sand begins to whip up in little dervishes.
Iris just works on getting the chariot close enough so that Sean can jump on if that seems like a Sean thing to do. She surely would like to.
Fiery Bellona climbs up and over the speakers, not fucking around here ONE bit. Getting to the top, the flaming red furred Crimson fiery warrior lands down in the midst of the Get. >> GET THE FUCK OUT! << She snarls at the Galliard, closest to her. He goes flying - but WHAT THE FUCKING HELL?? HE'S BUNGEE CORDED IN? Back he flies toward her as hard as she threw him, and knocks into her. But she is not moving. This does /nothing/ but stoke the flames of anger within the Ahroun.
Branton has an advantage to getting out of shackles designed to restrain a Crinos garou. With enough wriggling and contortions he manages to squeeze a hand free. His now free fist clenches, beginning to smoke, and the glow in his eyes sparks back up. Its on now.
>>WITNESS MEEEEEEE!<< comes the howling holler of Death's Jester as he streaks through the air to the battle wagon, landing with all hands and feet and sticking to the hull immediately. He crouches and springs like a frog to the top of the speaker stacks, closing the distance and getting in danger close to the enemy.
That sandstorm ahead rapidly grows out of control, becoming a massive wall of sand that ripples and flows with currents of air, Lightning begins to strobe within its depths as the war machine heads straight for it without slowing down. Iris and Sean catch up, jumping from their stolen ride onto the big rig itself to climb up the back. Neither of them is quite as angrily speedy as the other two, but they make it work! Right on their heels, spirits swarm the rig, their own vehicles of destruction and murderizing coming up on all sides. They fly, jump and polecat their way onto the thing around the same time Isla is planning murder, Jes is leaping, and Iris and Sean are climbing.
Strangely enough, they DO in fact witness Jes, quite a lot of them actually stop everything they're doing to see a glorious and death defying move in action, echoing in a chorus of blood-lust voices, "WITNESS!" and "WITNESS HIM!" Not that this makes them not want to kill Jes, it's just really cool in their eyes.
This invasion of spirits actually benefits our n'er do well Get up there, as the swarm affects the people bothering their Galliard as well. Sand begins to become more dangerous than annoying as nearing the storm becomes nearing a sand blaster vs bare skin. And waaaaay back behind the group, Frostbite has just stolen several vehicles and is catching up with problems of their own.
Fiery Bellona THIS time grabs the guy, and fucking hell he tries to torch her? If she was not flaming mad already - then this would certainly /literally/ do it for her. She pushes through the pain from the damage inflicted toward her, and knocks him out of the car - BUT WHAT IS THIS? THERE IS ANOTHER BUNGEE CORD!!! The Galliard hangs out the car, there, but not there - like a seat belt that did not get unbuckled, but is loose enough for him to move out for some fresh air.. and hopefully a mouth full of red sand.
You know how sometimes in life you have those moments where you recognize that you've done something awesome like three, four times in a row, you're in the perfect heroic position and pose, you've arrived at the moment of destiny, and you forgot to wear fucking /pants/? That's kind of how Jes feels when he sees the two spirit opponents in range and realizes, dude... you're not armored up or anything. Forsaking the opportunity to do some wicked claw slash or snapping bite, he tries to look menacing while he covers his ass in Luna's Armor, because for fuck's sake it's not like he's an Ahroun or some shit.
While Jes is trying to look cool and not at all like he's about to piss himself for leaping into a fight without armor, one of the spirits snarls and slashes at him, which he just sort of leans aside and dodges. The other one is a bit smarter and uses that opportunity to lead him on the lean and take a bite out of his shoulder, tearing off a bit of fur and skin.
Branton laughs in excitement and bares his teeth in a fierce grin when one of the warrior spirits jumps up on the front of the rig with him. Snapping out with one hand he grabs the visor of the dude's helmet and slams it against the cuff holding his other hand to the grill. There's a sickening crunch and the back of the skull and helm give way but Branton is left frowning when the cuff does not.
The spirits that land on the rig get very stab happy right away, slashing at our heroes and giving no mercy. Iris, for like the first time ever, actually almost murders the shit out of something with a single swipe of her claws, but it's not QUITE enough to kill it. Mortally wounded, even as a spirit, it staggers but keeps its feet, roaring "WITNEEEEEEE-" before suicide-detonating in a spray of glass shards that peppers Iris and Sean. And Branton tries to use a watermellon to open his cuffs and just breaks the damn thing. Er, a war spirit's head, not a watermellon, but it amounts to the same thing in the end.
The lighting suddenly drops to a dull, dark red as the rig and all the pursuing vehicles enter the storm. This isn't a small storm. Lightning incarna flash across the sky in deadly arks, and tornadoes the size of towns have formed, the space between them littered with smaller cyclones. Bolts begin to stab at the ground, getting juuuuuuuust close enough to make the 'little ants' squirm. And maybe crash. The sand is whipped hard enough to sheer fur and skin away in patches.
Fiery Bellona is just a bottle of rage racting now! Those spirits come after her, and she claws them first, slicing, dicing, and julienning one of them, DED. The other comes after her and she gets hit again, resolving her more than ever to ending this, JUST as she is reaching to FINALLY get rid of the Galliard. Raking her claws that direction, she snaps that infernal bungee cord, and WHOOSH! Off he goes into the sand and elements. Hard to say if the bump they felt on the vehicle driving was him being run over, or just a pothold - either way - the Galliard is blasting off again!
Branton looks around as things heat up and more vehicles come swerving in. Bracing himself carefully Branton pulllllls hard and a the grill pulls up and a Raven (the one traveling with the Frostbite pack) comes swooping out of the sky at the lock, The shackle shimmers and opens. Branton is now free, armed, and ANGRY.
Y'know, for all of Jes' protestations that he's a lover not a fighter, a capering clown and not a killer clown, he does have a habit of really throwing the fuck down when the moment is upon him. From his majestic vantage atop the speakers he can see them war fuccbois comin', and when the first ones angel dust him he snarls and lashes out with a Sabretooth-like criss-cross claw slash. One of the spirits gets raked into seeming implosion and just poofs inward like a cloudy pink fart getting sucked back into nowhere, but the second damn spirit had just enough juice left in the tank to pull a "you should've gone for the head" attrition belch of what look like sparkling sandflakes. They ping off of Jes' luminous armor in a mostly harmless fashion, but he sneezes in annoyance and snarls, >>I HOPE YOU END UP AS URINE-FILLED JARS IN HELL!<<.
Broken Claw has kinda lost his cool a little bit. When things shatter and make things HURT, Sean reacts. Oh, boy does he! He lets out a roar of pure rage and launches himself face first at the nearest asshole who fucked up his hair. He bites and gives the dude's arm a good violent shake before he's knocked loose by the OTHER asshole, who cuffs him upside the head. Broken Claw is bleeding from .. well.. several places, but the little Theurge soldiers on wif violence.
The Battle Galliard goes flying off the rig and into the dust as the race to Nerigal rages on, but it noticeably slows. Iris, having a bit of a Black Fury moment, rips a large, dangly appendage off a War-dude to use as a bludgeoning weapon against him. A war machine that's just a ball of pointy, stabby death suddenly explodes to one side, not at all due to the randomly stabbing lightning, but instead from a speeding tank that arrives, aiming and firing at the war spirits trying to swarm the big rig.
And this, this is really gonna piss you off. The truck begins to veer slightly off course, not that it hasn't done its fair share of weaving through hazards, but it's aiming for a glowing speck right next to a MASSIVE tornado. Just as the truck zips under it, forcefully shoving a small group of war spirits into the tornado to be torn apart and devoured, the fucking Galliard hops out of the moon bridge with a little stumble, falls back against the speakers in his original spot, then gives the whammy bar a hit and proceeds to rock. He's so fucked up and injured, and it only gets worse when the Corax that helped Branton swoops down to claw at his face. Still, the rig speeds right the hell back up.
Fighting continues, and we can see how awesomely that's going, but even though the Devil's Own tears through expendables with a penchant for suiciding, they're getting nickle and dimed with small wounds. A couple members of Frostbite crawl out of the tank and leap on the truck, so close to you guys but might as well be on another planet (ha ha) given the activity and the NOISE level. Up ahead, there IS a break in the storm, and a great bridge leading to the volcano. One of the Frostbite pack is perched on the tank top, firing arrows at the god damned Galliard, and looks like he might be about to jump at the driver when someone yells, "THE BRIDGE IS OUT!"
Broken Claw waits.. waits.. waits... then it's just almost TOO late. He crouches, waiting, and then leaps. He realizes as he's going to come up short and lets out a howl that translates essentially to >>Oh, fuck I'm gonna die<< but then he doesn't. He catches the lip of the chasm and his claws skitter off it and he scrabbles for purchase and manages to get it about five feet down. He kicks and scrambles his way up, getting an arm up over the edge.
Fiery Bellona blinks at the call about the bridge being out, and as they get to it - and too late to do much more, she gets a grip on things - perhaps others there, and they SAIL across! The bumping landing makes her lift up a bit jostled but totally still there! Not dead!!
>>What is this, Looney Tunes?!<< Jes yowls plaintively at the warning, but he sees that his Alpha is set and ready to face this, and it gives him heart. No, seriously; he cowgirls the fuck up, braces himself, and when /she/ leaps, /he/ leaps. This part he knows; tuck, roll, somersault, hope you don't hit a nail or some shit. He hits the ground and bounces and rolls, tumbling ass over teakettle in a tight cannonball before rolling to a stop. He pushes up to his feet, letting the bumps and bruises just fade away as he heals up, then turns around and calls out, >>IF YOU'RE DEAD, SAY SOMETHING!<<
Branton is standing on the hood of the rig, swinging a piece of the grill like a flail at the windshield wildly, yelling "Persés Sas kaíne!" as white hot fire like heart of a star builds around enemy in the driver seat. Branton having gone a little berserk would have missed his jump if the Frostbite Corax friend hadn't come back, this time in war-form and grabbed Branton by the shoulders, flying him to safety.....on the other side of the wrecked rig from the Devil's Own.
One of the garou from Team Badass Cliath dives at the war rig and punches through the window to grab at War Daddy despite the flames, burning himself pretty badly in the process. The elder is wounded and the Cliath somehow manages to pull him out and THROW him from the rig, diving into the driver's seat. Voiceless chooses to hang on for dear life rather than fight as "IN A BLAAAAAAZE OF GLOOOOOR-" comes out of the cab when he slams the go-peddle and makes the jump. The tank jumps as well and, I'm not at all kidding about this, another vehicle also GLORIOUSLY makes this jump with the bald, sand blasted ass of a Hispo wolf hanging out one of the windows. KABOOM SMASH SCREECH CRUNCH! The truck crash lands between the two packs, coughing with pain. Branton is nowhere in sight after his timely rescue, but there's no screaming and over the ringing in your ears and the sound of the clunking war rig, the sounds of non-aggitated voices can be heard, also taking stock.
Meanwhile, Broken claw is falling to his death in a second. Poor bastard. And you know who else is clawing their way up to safety right now? Mufuckin *War Daddy* That son of a bitch caught the back of the rig and is just feet away from Broken Claw, getting himself up to solid ground. Beat the fuck *up*. The Galliard meanwhile is just gonna lay where he was thrown for the moment, and Voiceless is unseen at this moment.
Broken Claw is barely hanging on there. When War Daddy scrambles up, Sean manages to pull himself up over the edge. He's gasping for air, breathing hard, trying not to snort mars dust up his schnoodle. His hair is a WRECK. He needs a brush. And a bath.. and a bandaid, probably.
Fiery Bellona is on her feet, and jumps over to Broken Claw, offers a hand then to get him away from the edge further, and behind her. At this point she stands up to War Daddy. >> Give me a reason /nae/ to knock yer head off and back off the edge. << She is pissed.
Jes is satisfied that Isla has the upper hand on War Daddy here, but he moves to flank the dude anyway, ensuring there's no real chance of a sudden reversal in this situation. She's talking, so he's quiet, for once; he's just keeping his eyes open to see who's taking too savage a beating and might need a healing hand.
War Daddy gets a knee and two hands onto solid ground, knelt down from the action and with one foot hanging over the edge. Burned, badly injured and slowly regenerating a plethora of broken bones and bruises, the smoking Get holds up a hand. "I didn't have a choice." That may not strictly be true, but he seems genuine in his claim. "We would never have made it otherwise. You wouldn't have made it either. I know it, you'd have been stuck there like I was. Like we were."
The busted up door of the rig's cab that's facing the interrogation flies off. Its arc through the air is followed almost immediately by a burning eye'd Branton wreathed in white lightning, he's not berserk but its damn near and he's headed right for War-Daddy "Skeftíkate na zitás gamiméno!"
Iris, after tucking and rolling, had the choice of confronting War Daddy, helping Sean, or looking for her beau, and she chose that latter option. Sean's fine, Isla and Jes can handle it, but Branton is missing! The Fury stumbles to her feet and is just beginning to tear through wreckage when oh, yep, there he is. Oh.. Ooooh shit, Branton's pissed. Iris jogs after the fellow and is currently wondering if it's a BAD idea to try and hold him back!
Sean lets Isla help him up to his feet and he shifts back to homid - for now. He's starting to heal, but goddamn, he's gimped up, bleeding from several pieces. But he still has his staff! Stick got Ole Trusty buckled in at his side. He moves with Iris, though, ready to step in if he can stay on his feet that long.
Fiery Bellona cackles, >> Ye dinnae know The Devil's Own. Makin' enemies of us is more dangerous than ye thought. Now WHAT THE FUCK kept ye there? And why would any of us believe a word you say? << She snarls and growls through clenched teeth, claws at the ready.
Y'know, when ancient sphinx riddles start spewing out of the mouth of a dude with his eyes on fire, the smart folks clear the fuck out. Thusly does Jes take some crabwise scuttles so he is not between Branton and Charbroil of the Future here. His lip does curl at Isla's takedown of the condemned, but he sidles up instead to Broken Claw and asks, >>On a scale of one to fucked up, how busted are you?<<
War Daddy holds up his hands and caaaaarefully tries to move to sit just a little ways away from the edge rather than hovering directly over it. His body language has 'I surrender' stamped all over it, and he isn't trying to move so far that someone COULDN'T kick him over the edge. He's just so tired and all of his parts really, really hurt and kneeling is the worst thing ever purely from an ouch standpoint. Regardless of how that action is allowed to play out, he answers. "Passion. Lack of passion. That, all of that before now was a test, put against us to make us bleed for the honor of being where we are right now. Courage, skill, but most of all passion. We wanted to be here more than anything but we lacked... Something. When that kinfolk beat me, that was a sign that might and glory came to me instead of me to it. But if we didn't fear your wrath, we wouldn't be fast enough, and if we didn't take what you loved, you'd have never weathered the storm." His eyes move tiredly to Branton, still panting and laboring for breath. "My apologies, and my respect, Half Breed." he says with a weak pat of his fist to his chest. "Let us live and seek our totem, and you will have allies in us for as long as we live." To Jes he answers, "I will live, if your alpha permits it."
Sean just.. stares. For a very long moment. Healing. That's what he's trying to do. He's also a little pissed off about the whole thing. "You almost killed us all, you realize that. How's that for passion?"
Branton stopped and listened when War-Daddy started talking and the first thing that changes is the white lightning grounds out and fades from Branton "That makes more sense. I've got too much respect for your rank, your auspice, and all that to think you didn't have a reason." Then he turns to Iris "It all tracks I think."
Jes rubs his muzzle with both huge hands before shifting down to Glabro so he can light up a fucking Nat Sherman while still healing. "Your call, boss," he says to Isla, as always ready to back her play. Once his cigarette is going, he turns the ol' magic fingers on himself, handling his own particular demon damage.
Once Branton's off the war path and saying rational words at her, Iris ATTACKS! With love, and with healing, covering Branton in gigantic crinos slobber and wolf-whimper happy sounds with no particular translation outside of just sounding VERY relieved. And now that tensions seem WAY down, she'll attend to Sean as well with a quick heal as well.
Fiery Bellona growls and snarls. This is not something probably most of them have heard before from her. The fiery anger that burns in her, much like her rite name and her fur is not quenched yet. She states very clearly. >> Accept and Honorable Surrender... Respect for Those Beneath Ye - All are of Gaia. << Quoting the Litany. >> While I dinnae accept yer conclusions that we would not have made it through that without the burning passion to rip ye to shreds fer taking our Fire Man, I can accept yer passion and intention - and yer surrender to my will, and claw. As the Alpha of The Devil's Own, I accept yer pledge. If ye cross us though, I will nae show mercy again. Deal? << The look in her eyes so resolute, and firm.
Branton gets lickysmooched by a crinos fiance and just sort of takes it in stride. Her magic fixing his assorted cuts and bruises, soothing the ligature marks from when he was shackled. A bit of attention is spared for Isla and War-Daddy's conversation once the immediate rush of reunion is past.
"It is a deal, Howling Wrath allies itself with the Devil's Own, and will never seek to cross them." War Daddy doesn't have to think it over, this and getting to live is a pretty great deal and he's willing to take it. "If I may..." Now that deals are struck, he'll tend to a little self healing as well while the Devils do the same, he and his pack patching themselves back together. "I told you that was a terrible, bad, great but also very bad plan." the Galliard complains to his alpha while getting his spleen regenerated.
It's a circle-jerk of healing as those magic hands go all around from woof to woof, and Jes is right in the thick of it giving bruise-banishing backrubs while smoking the fuck out of his expensive cigarette. Once that's all handled, he sighs and ambles to the edge of the cliff, flicking his dead cigarette butt down then unzipping and pissing into oblivion while whistling Queen's "Princes of the Universe".
