Portal Breach: The Collision of Worlds :: v.4.0


    Birds Of A Feather Slay Together

    Share
    avatar
    Mortis
    Petabyte

    Petabyte

    Posts : 942
    Join date : 2014-03-22
    Location : Deadworld
    Level : 60

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    65/65  (65/65)
    Health Bar:
    650/650  (650/650)
    Stamina Bar:
    120/120  (120/120)

    Re: Birds Of A Feather Slay Together

    Post by Mortis on Sun Oct 08, 2017 10:28 pm

    As he had stepped forward to investigate the trash pile, Mortis’ steed neither went unheard no ignored. With a rigid creak he idly turned his snout to face her for a brief moment. He could sense the sinking feeling that welled ever so slightly in her mind, the feeling that one held when they deduced that someone did not have the utmost faith in their ability. Alas, this simply was not true, as he addressed the retreating mare.

    No, no, you have it all wrong. He soothed, a sensation like fingers gently trailing down the back of her neck carried across their shared link. Mon dessstrier, ma jument ssssanguinaire de Diomedessss... I do not doubt you in the slightest. However, it would be unwissse to sssimply throw you into a difficult tasssk without allowing you time to acclimate yourssself to the ssskillsss that are required. Thiss isss why I have decided you would be besst sssuited to sscan the fence.

    As he had said moments ago, the city was nothing like the expansive wilderness. It had its own challenges that came with partaking in a hunt within its confines. However, the undead could understand his equine friend’s frustration, Samhain had always been the overly eager and confident type. If he had not guided her to start out at a more appropriate tier of difficulty, she would have probably buried her snout so deep in this miniature mountain of refuse that he would have needed to dig her out. That was regardless of whether she managed to discern a clue regarding their mystery gun-slingers.

    Clawed fingertips roamed over the surface of the shiny black bags, seeking any strong emotional residue that stuck out to him. At first, the facsimile of the residue that his steed picked up earlier at the corner was all he could find. Old strifes, ancient dusty blood and stale pains. Then, he noticed something stand out, like a brief flash of vivid light against a dull field of grey. It burned in his otherworldly senses and drew his gnarled green fingertips towards it. Panic, gunpowder, the sharp pop of gunfire rang in his psychic senses. Sharp, yellowed talons grazed over something thick and wet, staining their tips a deep crimson. Fur clung to the viscous mass alongside chunks of rent flesh. They were warm to the touch, whatever had left this gruesome mark had left only recently, mayhap less than a few moments ago.

    Ssssamhain, He relayed to his busied steed, leaning away from the trash pile. The crimson substance that the undead could only assume to be possibly blood was idly rolled between his fingertips. Red gleamed faintly in his empty eye sockets once again, Sssamhain, come here. I may have found a lead on our ssshootersss.

    While his steed may not have been so fruitful with her end of the investigation, Mortis had managed to find a fresh psychic imprint. He reached forward, towards the gore and fur that splattered itself over the trash bags. Across their mental link, the undead superfiend connected to Samhain once more.

    I am going to invessstigate thisss further, to be certain. Thisss will take a consssiderable amount of my concentration. You mussst keep an eye on our ssssurroundingsss, I will not be able to do ssso while I ssscan the resssidue. He mentally relayed to the undead mare. Though his steed was a spirited one, he trusted her completely to watch his back while he delved deeper into this mystery.

    The moment he had conveyed his request to his hooved field partner, the undead superfiend slipped away from their link and away from the world. The idle sounds of the city faded to silence, and the dull milky glow of the street lamps were snuffed out. Mortis was soon surrounded by darkness. There was nothing but the void, and the feverish pulse of the psychic imprint that was smeared out before him. Psychic tendrils reached out, gingerly making contact with this fresh, angry wound. Then, they pressed and probed in, seeking out what information may be gleaned from it.




    Mortis
    DP: 65/65
    HP: 650/650
    AP: 120/120

    Power: None
    Weapon: None
    Cooldown: --
    Target: None

    Action: Scanning the bloodstain for more information.
    avatar
    Universal NPC
    Non-Player Character

    Non-Player Character

    Posts : 943
    Join date : 2009-12-09
    Level : ??

    Re: Birds Of A Feather Slay Together

    Post by Universal NPC on Sun Oct 08, 2017 10:30 pm

    A low icy puff snorted from the hulking steed’s nostrils. Her ear and a half swiveled back towards her rider, soon followed by her long snout. She felt the psychic caress down her neck, undoubtedly a soothing gesture. A successful soothing gesture at that. Her flicking tail stilled. Previously pinned ears relaxed and turned to a more attentive position as she listened to her Master’s words. It was not doubt that sent her to investigate the fence, but what the undead steed could only consider to be caution. He thought it was not the right time for her to be amid so many conflicting imprints at once. There was some sense in this, she deduced. But, there was not enough that the undying steed considered it to be completely worthwhile.

    But, Master! How am I to learn the skills you speak of if I am not allowed to find something challenging to test them against?

    Alas, to the mare, her master’s words sounded like eloquently stated red tape. On top of that, the red tape was absolutely unnecessary. Her tail whipped to the side once more with a dull snap of coarse hair upon her composite armor. Though her Master knew far more about all of this... psychic stuff than she did, there were times when she could not help but wonder if- dare she think it- her Master's judgment upon such matters could be flawed. Empty eye sockets went back to the fence she was investigating, notably less interesting and more barren of stinky things than the Stink Pile her master had claimed. Her intact ear swiveled forward, then back as she considered it as she re-approached her task. Her master was one that was swayed by nothing more than demonstrated skill. If she wanted to convince him that she was capable of sifting through the Stink Pile for clues, she would do so by effortlessly finding a clue around this fence! That would make his skull spin for sure, she thought to herself. Though the mare lacked the foresight to see her plan in flawless completion, along with the praise and endless treats it would reward her with, Samhain was confident that nothing about this could go wrong. Of course, Samhain was confident about everything she did, overconfident even.

    Yet as the mare dutifully went back to sniffing and snuffing at her side of the street with newfound resolve, her results were not as she expected. Her mummified snout overturned layers of thickly plastered paper from against the edge of the rust chain link fence. Her icy breath huffed and puffed away small clouds of dust upon the paved, grungy ground.  She found fragments of broken glass and decayed plastic, old flyers and debris. What she did not find, was a single fresh sign of a struggle. Every psychic imprint here was old, registering stale and dull in her supernatural senses. Her ear and the ragged stump of the other pinned harshly, the horse’s mummified lip quirked into a frustrated sneer. There had to be something here, she had to find something to prove her Master wrong...

    Alas, the only exclamation of discovery came from the sheep-skull headed superfiend. Her head lifted with an agitated snort. With a muffled crackle of her neck, she turned her sightless gaze towards her master, and soon the rest of her brutish form followed as she went to regroup with him. Her iron-shod hooves clipped against the asphalt as she trotted over, curiosity briefly overpowering her frustration as she came to a halt next to him. Her ragged ear and a half pricked forward, and her neck craned over her Master’s shoulder as if to attempt to investigate the Stink Pile and see what he found too.

    What is it? What did you find, Master?

    The moment she asked that question across their mental link, she too became aware of that sudden burst. That snap of raw, pained emotion stuck out from among the pile like a flame in the dark. With a small squeal and a snort she took a step back, her head raised high and alert. Was this what her master had described? It had to be. She had not detected anything else like it since they had arrived here. The mare had detected the psychic residue of fleeing beasts and anxious supernatural entities in the wilderness, certainly. However, the fresh stink of blood and sharp bite of gunpowder was a far cry from the musky reek of fear and confusion that she was used to pursuing. Empty sockets glanced back over to her master. Obviously he was well versed with such cues, as he was already prepared to investigate it further. For the moment, she was glad that their alleyway search was no longer the main focus of their excursion or conversation. After she had nearly humiliated herself, she was more than happy to drop the subject of whether or not she was able to seek out psychic residue in the city.

    Very well, Master. I will make sure nothing interrupts your scanning.

    Happily she turned her attention outward, her senses primed for anything that may come near. It was a fine reprieve from an earlier stumble, and one she savored while she waited for her rider to return with any new information.




    Samhain
    DP: 65/65
    HP: 650/650

    Weapon: None
    Powers: None
    Action: Keeping an eye on the surrounding area.
    avatar
    Universal NPC
    Non-Player Character

    Non-Player Character

    Posts : 943
    Join date : 2009-12-09
    Level : ??

    Re: Birds Of A Feather Slay Together

    Post by Universal NPC on Tue Oct 10, 2017 11:02 pm





    Indeed, it was blood that smeared itself over the undead’s claws. Thick, warm, and fresh, it carried a psychic residue that burned like a flame to those that had the aptitude to sense it. Regarding what to do with this gruesome find, a consensus had been reached. To investigate the gory smear upon the trash bags would be the most prudent approach, instead of looking for any more traces of what may have transpired upon this lonely street.As the sheep skull headed superfiend delved into this mysterious clue, his senses would find themselves warped, twisting as he entered the perspective of another.

    Through Another’s Eyes:


    Hunger. It burned in its mind, and gnawed at its belly with an uncomfortable heat. How long had it been since its had last fed? It felt like days, weeks... And yet the memory of blood draining down its throat was barely an hour old. Lips crumpled aside to run up cruel fangs, gnashing briefly. A wide, slobering tongue swiped itself over its curved canines. Its thoughts were already lusting for another fresh taste of marrow, the soft ripping of flesh against its teeth, the warmth of freshly shed blood dripping over its lips and coating its mouth with sweet copper. Before it, the streets stretched out, inviting. The thought of roaming the open lanes was tempting, from where it was sitting, contemplating in a dark alleyway.

    But, to it, the alleys were not so dark. It could see the detail of every brick, the cracks in its pale mortar. It could discern the color of every flyer and discarded newspaper page that lay strewn across the pavement, even make out the odd characters that were printed upon their surfaces. Yet, there were no lights in this lonesome backstreet. The only lamp that could be seen perched just above the back door of an abandoned building. It’s glass had been shattered, remained shattered to the point where the sharp edges of broken glass had been weathered and worn dull from time. It’s keen sight glanced out towards the street and winced at the sight. The street lamps, though dull in their illumination of the ghetto’s streets, were enough to strain the being’s eyes. The details it could readily discern in little to no light grew faded and misty, partially due to the agitated tears that were welling up in its eyes. A horrid snarl erupted form its throat and it ducked back into the safety of the alleyway. Pavement clapped beneath its claws as it loped on, seeking out far more appealing venues to appease its demanding appetite. The entity’s path snaked around corners, its peripherals lined with grimy brick and tattered debris.  It paused as its path came to an abrupt halt. The comforting dark of the back alley was broken by the glaring brightness of a street. Its vision grew misty once again as it snuffed and took a step back, blinking away the way the street lights stabbed at its delicate senses. After allowing its eyes to adjust, it discerned that another cosy back alley opened up just across the road.

    Its lips quivered and its nose twitched as it regarded its choices. Nothing edible was here, there was no sound of prey walking clumsily within reach. There was no smell of fresh meat. It would have to seek its next meal elsewhere. It would have to endure the painful light, even if for a moment. The back of its neck tickled, hairs standing on end as its body bunched like a spring. Then, the world around it blurred as it dashed like a missile across the street. Its feet only touched the ground once in its fleeting bound across the asphalt. In the time it took one to blink,it was enveloped once again in darkness’ comforting embrace. Within seconds its eyes adjusted, and it resumed its creeping.

    Its gaze dropped to the ground for a moment, joints popping audibly as it crouched low. Its lips parted slightly, deeply drinking in the air. It could smell the coarse stink of rancid alcohol, the musty odor of molding paper. Old urine prickled in its nose alongside tepid, sugary garbage. Rancid meat mingled with it on top of it all, what the entity had decided to be this part of the city’s usual smell. With a low huff it cleared its mouth and nose of the stench, and lifted its head and moved on, its claws softly scraping against the cold, hard ground in a four beat rhythm. Its belly grumbled its complaints. Hunger took its impatience out upon the being in a sensation like nails digging and slowly dragging down the walls of its stomach. It needed to eat, it needed something, anything to drown out that growing need. It felt as if it would go mad if it endured it any longer.

    Then, as it rounded another dark corner, it felt a tickle. this time  it was not the hairs standing on the back of its neck, but a sensation in its ear.

    ”...Yeah how about tomorrow night?”

    ”Sure, I got nothing better to do...”

    There was sound, there were voices. Even far off, the very murmur of life sent its jaws to water to the point of dripping out of its mouth. It stood taller, seeking a vantage to better sample the air. The stink of tobbacco mingling with the biting odor of some sort of chemical -or was it a musk?- carried on the night air. Regardless, it was enough to draw its attention, and it immediately dropped back down to pursue. It swiped its tongue over its lips again, excitement prickling up and down its body. Its hair stood up from end to end. They could not have been too far off, the two who were talking in the distance. Its ears tickled as it traced their voices, and twitched as it closed in.  It ducked around corner after corner, darted down straight paths lined with brick and rusted metal plating. The being’s surroundings started to blur together as its instincts took over, darting this way and that as it zeroed in on the sound, the scent, the promise of another meal. Finally, it was met with an opening facing out towards the street, its exit blocked off by a flimsy fence.

    Just on the other side of it, there was a parked coupe. Its exterior had seen better days, red paint peppered with spots of rust and dents. But that was not what drew its interest, it was the three that were standing on the other side of it that caught its eye. They were easy prey. Their backs were turned to the alleyway, completely oblivious. What was on the minds of the group glowed a dull red, burning between the fingertips of one young man while another was busy trying to spark another. The third exhaled a cloud of pale smoke, its smell drifting back through the backstreet to burn in its nose. It’s lip curled at the foul odor.  Its body tensed and dropped to the ground, claws digging against the asphalt as it quickly sized up its next meal. They did not even think to turn as a low rumble purred in its throat.

    In a single bound it launched itself over the fence and cleared the roof of the car, slamming claws first into the lad trying to light his next cigarette. Immediately the relaxed mood of the group dropped and soured into a panic. In the time it took to blink, its prey had been tackled to the ground and it eagerly sank its fangs into the pathetic being’s neck. But the moment it tasted fresh blood and felt flesh between its teeth a new sound exploded in its ears. Shouting burst in a terrified chorus, and soon the sharp pop of gunfire followed. Gunpowder and fear mingled in its nose. The world blurred as it swept its gaze to and fro, the sharp scents and loud noises overwhelming to the point of confusing the nocturnal creature. Then, there was a sharp, biting pain in its shoulder. It yelped in agony and staggered aside from its prey. Heat slithered down its arm and a sickly copper odor bloomed in its nostrils. At once a drumming hammered in its ribs, and the world blurred as it started to spin. No longer did its thoughts focus upon the gnawing hunger in its belly, or the fresh meat just inches away from its feet. Gaping and coughing, the entity staggered a few feet more from the sharp pops of pistol fire. Fight or flight took over, and it loped towards the alleyway across the street. The entrance was clogged with rancid filth, but not so much that it did not think its able to leap over it. A single bound carried it to the wall of black plastic and twisted metal, a second launched the entity airborne and soaring over its peak. Pain stabbed into its body once again, searing a gash into its hip and ripping its back.

    Its shaking claws scrambled for purchase upon the paved ground upon landing. Frantic scraping echoed between the walls of the backstreet, and it slipped to fall upon its punctured shoulder. Pain flared, and it found itself unable to right itself as it tumbled down the alleyway to slam into a sub-pile of bloated black bags. There no longer was a sound of pistols snapping and popping, no shouting. There was no more brick lined corridor to be seen, as the imprint left from the bloodstain was finally and fully spent.

    No longer was the psychic superfiend in the realm of the imprint left upon the garbage bags, yet the experience of his insight lingered. A dull pain throbbed in the places where their mystery quarry had been shot. The pale echoes of a gnawing sensation clung briefly to his gut. The memory of copper and fear  was left upon his tongue for a moment, before it too faded into nothing.

    While the blood had been investigated, the streets remained as uneventful as they had been when they had arrived. Not a soul dared to approach either the undead horse or its rider. The only hints of strife to be found were far off echoes from several blocks over, carried upon the wind.



    Mortis gained insight from the bloodstain!





    Music to Explore To:


      Current date/time is Fri Oct 20, 2017 7:37 pm