The Connection
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Anakira on 29-07-2010, 05:59:24</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anakira</strong> on <strong>29-07-2010, 05:59:24</strong>
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				Some time had passed since the world had gone quiet before the survivors began to wake. The place was dead quiet and while it was freezing cold, it was a strange, piercing chill that penetrated their jackets...even the blonde's band uniform, which she'd always complained was too heavy. Skeletons littered the ground around them as did the ruins of what once was Kenner City Park. Remnants of broken, dirty lights hung limp off of rotting, broken wood; tattered cloth floated in the occasional, weak breeze. Various instruments; broken, dented, rusting and dull were scattered along the ground as well. Some of them still had their owner's severed, bony hands attached. One skeleton loosely gripped a baton, still dressed in the suit meant for that night's performance though it was dry-rotting off of the body. The only thing left intact was a tie depicting some musical notes on a staff.. Hair was still attached in tufts on some skulls, and perhaps you could recognize the skeleton of the lady you were once standing next to just what seemed to be a few hours before. What the hell had happened?<br><br>A tall blonde girl still clutching her flute lay curled up on the ground. She sure seemed dead, but unlike the other bodies, she was whole and if she had died, it was only a few minutes ago. Not even a few seconds had gone by before her hand twitched...once, twice...her body shifted completely then. A groan escaped her vocal chords as a hand slowly crept to her throbbing, screaming head. Slowly, she sat up quite stiffly, for she had not moved in... really, how long had it been? Her joints ached, muscles tight and refusing to move, and that all was without her heavy decorative coat restricting her! Somehow it had remained a clean white and black. Strange...the other few uniforms that managed to survive the blight were nearly black with grime.<br><em><br>Wait.</em><br><br>There was a shriek, the flute dropped into her lap as the girl suddenly took in her surroundings. Dead people, dead people, and more dead people. Forgetting about the silver instrument for a moment, she crawled over to a long skeleton with bits of what could be recognized as a suit. Running her hand over the tie she’d given the owner just yesterday during school, recognition settled in. This was sickening, maddening, even! Shock began to subside as she removed the baton from the former director’s hands and slipped it inside of her coat before rising to her very shaky feet, not before picking up the instrument she dropped a moment prior.<br><br><em>Nobody's left alive but me... This is crazy! What happened?! Wait...Seren!?</em><br><br>Heather gave a yelp of delight, nearly throwing the flute from her half-gloved hands again as she rushed over to the still foggy form of her best friend. “Seren!? Seren!!!” She called, shaking the boy roughly, “Seren!! Please tell me you're still alive!!”<br><br>--<br><br>The Castiel was a large ship; not huge by any means, and certainly not cargo class, but it was certainly not a favored ship for those who called themselves bounty hunters. Most of those chose small crews, small ships, and hardly became attached to said crew at all. The Freeborn however, were different. They always had been a big group, even back in the old days when Irea's crew and Cid's crew had merged. To accommodate, there were two bases; one on the ship and one on ground, and this even remained true today. Though few others than the senior staff were allowed on deck at any point in time, the ship was reminiscent of a small flying community where everyone's role was quite vital to the function of their little society.<br><br>The senior crew consisted now of three people. Three people doing the jobs of six. It wasn't so hard, especially not for Kara, and the newer captain had been trained to do his job well. The alien on board...he just seemed to pick things up quickly and learned the ship inside out in record time. If anything had gone wrong inside, at least Kara was sure as she could shoot a gun Seven could find out what it was. Perhaps she was over glorifying his ability, though. When it came to the...alien...she tended to do that. There was plenty he didn't let on about, which really, <em>really</em> should have creeped her out.<br><br>“Distress call from Sector 146011 Quadrant C. ...That sounds familiar.” It was a sudden announcement.&nbsp; The professional tone in Kara's voice faltered toward the end of her report. Suddenly, she also sounded less tired. “....Really, it's not a distress call, it's more...Life signs have all but disappeared. Guys, we've got another S&amp;R. Been a while, too...” Leaning back in her chair, the woman began to twist a few pale locks of her bangs around two of her slender fingers. “I don't like this. Decorus has been idle for...what, three, four months? What would possess her to stop and go like that?” The chair swiveled back so she could see the rest of the senior crew. “...Whatever. We haven't much time, if any at all. If there's anyone left alive, they won't be for long if we don't move. Setting coordinates;&nbsp; Ettie, take us on out. We're actually not very far away at all!”<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saragato</strong> on <strong>29-07-2010, 06:21:07</strong>
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				Sparks of color, some muted and others quite bright and unreal to the eye, assaulted the blackness and caused a dizzying show that, were he any sort of epileptic, would have had him twisted in on himself, writhing in agony and bucking against the pain. He could hear what he only assumed was the Apocalypse ringing out, shrieks of terror, shouts of prayers that would forever be unfinished as they would always just stop short of the absolute 'amen', most likely dead before their message was sent off to the deity that had forsaken them in this moment. Children cried for their parents, parents cried for their young, friends wailed their regrets and lovers said nothing as they either had gone first or were using their last seconds to kiss their last. Above it all rose a chilling and almost inhuman cackling, a mad laughter that he supposed even if it wasn't real would seep into the marrow of his bones and haunt him late at night and in any moment of silence.<br><br>It was hard to say how long he'd been in this realm of nothing, this gateway of near-death but the oxygen assaulted his lungs, inflating them so that his chest had to arch to be able to withstand the force and the exhale was a painful shudder bringing with it the realization he was laying on an uneven surface with jagged pebbles, or what he supposed were pebbles, cutting into his cheek, neck, and right arm that was twisted cruelly under his body. <em>It really hurt.</em><br><br>"...ren? Seren!!!"<br><br>That voice, it was full of distress, pain, helplessness. He knew that voice. And that name, was it his own? Surely not.<br><br>Hands grabbed his shoulder and ribcage for he was laying on his side nearly rolled onto his stomach and could not present this person both shoulders for an even hold when they began shaking him violently. Like the shock of oxygen the movement caused him to jolt, gasp, and even fly a hand to his mouth as he staved off hurling whatever was left in that pitiful stomach as he rolled free of his assailant's grasp. Something came up anyway, a rather salmon colored concoction that led him to believe he'd ingested milk at some point and the absence made him shudder then quickly go rigid as something cracked under his knee. <em>Ah hell... those weren't...?</em> He stared at the broken leg to his glasses, sighing heavily. Of course. He put them on anyway, carefully tucking the wobbly limb so if he didn't move too swiftly they'd go without slumping at an obtuse angle on his short, cherry-round nose.<br><br><em>Oh right...</em><br><br>"Fucking hell, Heather." It was all he could think to say upon laying eyes on his best friend, who was covered in ashes, a few wayward teeth in her blonde hair, and who looked for the most part a survivor from a really low-grade zombie film. Looking down at himself, he could see he wasn't much better, the jacket he'd been wearing littered with things he was sure were not supposed to be there. It wasn't really clicking that they were in a sea of bodies, some intact and others in so many pieces not even the King's Horses and all of His Men could put them back together. Then again, he was still half convinced he was stuck in the nightmare that had begun with the lights and unseen carnage. He gulped heavily, his throat parched and begging for sating, that hot chocolate he'd had long gone. The water fountain had melted. Perfect.<br><br>"E-exactly what happened here?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Shihong</strong> on <strong>29-07-2010, 07:06:54</strong>
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				<div align="center"><span style="font-size: 24pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: impact;" class="bbc_font">SEVEN</span></span></div><div align="center">---Current Location: Living Quarters---</div><br><div class="floatright">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v296/rcburner/Alien%20Civilization/InsectShogun-1.jpg)</div><br><em>An anomaly.&nbsp; Left-side front-hand wall.&nbsp; Zero point three Human Meters beneath Electroluminescent Dial.&nbsp; Embedded in semi-permeable membrane.&nbsp; Touching...</em><br><br>The third member of the Castiel's skeleton crew was vastly unlike its other two members.&nbsp; While both Etienne and Kara seemed quite content to remain entirely unalarming and normal by human standards, the alien known only as <strong>Seven</strong> was vaguely reminiscent of something one might concoct in one's most fervent nightmares after ingesting twice the recommended dose of hallucinogenics, presumably while frothing at the mouth and shrieking incoherently about polyester neckties.&nbsp; <br><br>He towered at a full eight and a half feet when straightened up--which was a rare sight aboard the ship, whose dimensions had been set to comfortably suit far smaller passengers.&nbsp; Evolution had evidently misplaced his skin at some point down the line, as most of his body consisted of interwoven bands of semi-gelatinous muscle tissue held together with sleek metal augmentations, flexible walls of cartilage, and rigid plates of bone-like chitin.&nbsp; His angular skull hung forward upon a massive neck decorated with armored crests, and ten black eyes whirled in their sockets above a set of complex mandibles that filled the air with an ambient chittering just barely audible to the human ear.<br><br>And he was currently poking at what seemed to be a very large pimple growing out of the fleshy, pulsating organic mass that he had seen fit to fuse to every available surface in his living quarters.&nbsp; His powerful yet slender fingers prodded at the growth tentatively, flinching back whenever they made contact. <br><br><em>Surface is inelastic.&nbsp; Dark, rugose coating.&nbsp; Protective in nature.</em><br><br>Another hard jab seemed to only aggravate it, causing previously unseen sphincters to unclench and release small clouds of glowing yellow spores in a series of rather rude-sounding <em>Blats!</em><br><br><em>Curious.&nbsp; Naturally evolved defensive mechanism.&nbsp; Anomaly previously undetected.&nbsp; Obscured by Biomass?&nbsp; Or <strong>hiding</strong>?&nbsp; Investigation is warranted before standard liquification procedures.</em><br><br><strong>Guys, we've got another S&amp;R. </strong><br><br>Six of Seven's eyes rolled upwards at Kara's announcement over the intercom, while the rest continued to inspect the protuberance, which had since seemed to calm down and was in the middle of attempting to wriggle its way back out of sight.&nbsp; As fascinating as it was, he was not the sort of creature to allow personal curiosity to delay his reactions.&nbsp; A painful ringing had begun to throb at the back of his consciousness, as though an unfathomably massive weight were pressing in all around it.&nbsp; It narrowed his focus considerably, and soon all thoughts of studying the tumorous blight had dissipated entirely.<br><br><div align="center">----------</div><br>If there was one terrible habit Seven was known for, it was appearing without any sort of warning and impressively <em>looming</em> over friends and acquaintances and scrutinizing whatever they were looking at until he was finally noticed.&nbsp; In anyone else that sort of behavior would just be mildly unsettling, but in his case it had caused quite a number of spontaneous bowel movements.<br><br>Considering Kara was facing <em>towards</em> the door to the bridge at the time, she might wonder how she could have possibly failed to notice the fact that an eight-foot-tall insectoid had managed to enter and was now standing behind her chair whilst simultaneously eyeballing the communications systems, Etienne, and the finger that Kara was currently twirling around.<br><br><em>Hair.&nbsp; Human-based filamentous biomaterial.&nbsp; Light pigmentation.&nbsp; Curly and soft.&nbsp; Soft?&nbsp; Uncertainty.&nbsp; Inquiry:&nbsp; Is Human Kara's hair soft today?&nbsp; Touching...wait.&nbsp; Improper social conduct.</em><br><br>"Decorus is a blighted madness," he said abruptly.&nbsp; His voice was every bit as unnerving as the rest of him, and could be best described as a swarm of crickets and mosquitoes shoved down a man's throat and attempting to approximate the human language by buzzing and clicking in complicated patterns.&nbsp; "Spontaneous.&nbsp; Indefinable.&nbsp; Cretinous.&nbsp; There is no...'rhythm or ripening' to her behavior.&nbsp; When one holds power, one does what one will."<br><br>Seven turned almost imperceptibly, staring with far more intensity at the coordinates of the distress call.&nbsp; "Have you identified the planet that the transmission originated from?"<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anakira</strong> on <strong>29-07-2010, 08:04:21</strong>
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				"Kyaah!! You're alive!!" the blonde threw her arms eagerly around her friend, grabbing hold of him in a bearhug of death that, had he not been used to prior to this event, probably would have shoved the air he just inhaled right back out of his lungs. Her soft body shook against his for a long moment, the sharp inhalation a telltale sign she was either about to, or in the process of, crying. "I almost thought I lost you, Ser, I...There's...everything around here is..." Her voice was shaking, the suspicions were confirmed. She pulled back, running her sleeve across her cheeks to remove the moisture before realizing how <em>fucking</em> hot she was in this coat. Absently, she contorted her arms behind her back to get the damned thing off (it always was much easier to put on than to remove), grunting as she pulled her arms free from her sleeves. Rather unceremoniously, she tossed the thing off to the side, revealing her very simple white t-shirt with the school band's logo sitting on the right breast.<br><br>"Ser...everyone's....... ........ ....dead. We're all that's left..." Her head hung low, though her eyes burned into him. That was the last thing she wanted to say, ever. <em>ever.</em> "....I....I don't what happened, though, I just...remember this...woman. I think she was...I don't know, I don't <em>know.</em>" As a common sign of stress, one hand absently gravitated toward her hair and she began to yank at it. "I...I...are we dreaming? You're in my dream. Get out." <br><br>--<br><br>"JESUS FUCKING <em>CHRIST</em>, SEVEN." The copilot never had gotten used to the alien's just...<em>appearing.</em> He had this nasty habit of making her want to change clothes at least once a day; sometimes, if he was having a rather productive day it was more than that. The voice and his just <em>being there</em> was a bad combination, and had she not been so fond of his innocence she might have treated him with a rather cold touch. Instead, she mostly...put up with him. His habits, rather.<br><br>After forcing her heart to beat more slowly, a breathing exercise she had learned right after Seven had come aboard, she turned around and gave a mechanic nod. "I suppose, I just...got so used to not having her around for a little while. It's been easier to actually make money off of heads instead of playing wild goose chase with this goddamned demon." <br><br>Running a hand through her hair, her nails scraping her scalp, she shook her head. "I actually hadn't bothered to see what other planets were around, my first priority was setting coordinates and getting the hell over there. Let's see, shall we?" Kara wheeled her chair to the next comm over, a circular screen in the middle of a blank table. She keyed in a combination, and a hologram of their current position came up around them. Staring up, the woman keyed in another code and the hologram of stars shifted and twisted until it settled on one spot in particular.<br><br>"Human designation, Milky Way Galaxy, unnamed solar system. Main and only star, Sol. Eight planets, four dwarf planets...Why does this...look so familiar...?" She scrolled down the touch screen to the side, eyes squeezing as she strained to read. "...Earth...? But we've already <em>been</em> here! What the fuck kind of glitch <em>is</em> this?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Travaius</strong> on <strong>29-07-2010, 08:11:26</strong>
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				Etienne rubbed his temples as turned to face Kara, a brief smile coming across his face for a mere moment, then disappearing as his eyes swept over the alien that comprised the rest of the crew. Shaking his head, he turned back to the controls, rubbing his temples as he did so. This was certainly not what he needed. Every search and rescue seemed to take a little more out of him. In the month since the last encounter with Decorus’s work he had hoped that she had died, or at least found some way to entertain herself without eradicating worlds. <br><br>He never really thought he fit in here, he didn’t even want the job. More or less, he was forced onto the ship, circumstances causing him to have no choice. Decorus had visited his planet and he was one of the few survivors. Kara’s ship had come to his planet and saved him, accepting him into the crew. In that time, he had been trained in various forms of combat and even many places on the ship. When the captain retired, Etienne kind of just slipped in. Now he was running the controls of a ship he should have never had to seen.<br><br>Checking the coordinates, he sighed as he through the ship into autopilot, turning around to glance at Kara.&nbsp; A sneer came to his lips as he looked at her.<br><br>“Still hoping that we can save lives? We got lucky that she has been gone this long, that little whore is probably so bored after giving us time off that she obliterated everybody, or let’s hope she left a little present for us like she has a few times before that. That sounds like an amazing amount of fun. But fine, we can go and see what she left for us this time, maybe this will be the time she finally kills me.”<br><br>Spinning away from Kara, he sighed as he focused on the controls. He knew that Decorus’s actions had taken a toll on him, knew that she was getting to him. He remembered in the back of his mind convincing himself not to let her do this to him when he started on the ship, after Decorus had destroyed his planet. Muttering to himself, a smile came to his face as he started to spin around again, then grumbled and stared straight ahead, not looking at anything in particular anymore.<br><br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saragato</strong> on <strong>29-07-2010, 08:26:05</strong>
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				Her arms slipped into their familiar positions around his torso which was not quite frail but was still slight enough to warrant a suggestion of weight lifting to look less like an overcooked noodle with an unkempt mop of dark hair. After so many years of this painful display of affection his body had actually dented where her arms often fell, just enough to give the sensation that they were locked into place instead of just against each other. Instinctively his arms went limply around her shoulders, eyes sweeping the area almost dully. Her body heat, the vibrations of her ragged breathing and general shaking of frame, and the wetness he could feel staining the jacket and down towards skin told him this was hardly the nightmare he believed it had been. This was the unfortunate reality they had woken to and for a good few moments he sorely wished they had been one of the fortunate to die and be dust on the asphalt, not the survivors.<br><br>An absence was felt and his dark eyes roamed back to her, watching her shed the coat she'd been wearing. Hadn't it been freezing out before all this? It didn't snow this far South, or at least it was rare that it did, but he remembered having to give up a bit of his masculinity to beg for a swipe of balm so his lips wouldn't crack. It hadn't helped the stuff had been strawberry scented but he had figured at the time he wouldn't be doing any kissing to warrant anyone knowing. But now it was warm, a heat one would expect in the summer, yet it lacked the skin-molesting slickness that was humidity. Wordlessly his own jacket fell off of him in several graceless shrugs, revealing bruised arms.<br><br>"Are we sure we aren't the dead ones?" That question made no sense. He could feel pain, the dead couldn't. Maybe this was the Hell his mother always spoke about on Sundays and whenever he did something bad. Heather's mentioning the woman brought the shrill guffaw to his ears and he doubled over in pain, clutching his ears to muffle the sound even though it was only in his mind. Ice sipped at his veins and a shudder wound down his spine, causing him to straighten up once more and correct his glasses. "Dreaming...?"<br><br>His eyes swept the area again.<br><br>"They say the truth is stranger than fiction. I think that pretty much answers it."
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueShaine</strong> on <strong>29-07-2010, 08:35:39</strong>
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				&nbsp; &nbsp;Marco's body spasmed when he first came aware of lying down. <em>When the hell had that happened?</em><br>&nbsp;The shoulders were stiff, his legs like lead...hell, even his eyelids were complaining that he'd been neglecting to use them. But that wasn't right, at least not to him. Lungs ached when he breathed in and he no sooner took his first gasp of air when he coughed violently to clear it out. "Ffh! F-uuck." Not the greatest words to express, but they fit the mood and time. He opened his eyes to look around.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;And promptly grew worried. "Fuck. <strong>FUCK!</strong>What the hell?!" He was looking at a collection of scattered remains. <em>Human</em> remains at that...he sat upright, regretting the motions but doing it anyway. He ran a hand through his hair to clear the debris out of it and winced before he took another look around.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <em>What had he been doing?</em> Ahh yes, that was right. He'd been here to get out of the house at his uncle's place. But that was before all this happened. Not able to figure it out, he got up slowly. "Why are my clothes in one piece?" He looked at the wreckage and the dead. His coat, his jeans -even his shoes were in better shape than anything else he saw. He reached to the nearest body he'd seen and watched as the fabric disintegrated as he touched it.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;There were noises coming not far off, maybe half a block away. Marco took a few steps towards the road, stumbling at first then carefully stepping around the bones and cracked concrete. His voice wasn't exaclty clear, but he started calling out. "Hey? Hey! Anyone...is anyone out there?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anakira</strong> on <strong>29-07-2010, 09:28:36</strong>
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				"I....I...don't know. I....Don't think so, I hurt all over and...I don't know." The girl's eyes scanned the scene again and she swallowed hard. "....I don't like it here. What do we do...? Do we start walking or....do we stay here and die quietly?" Heather rubbed her arm uneasily as she pulled herself reluctantly to her feet. The ground was black. Just...black. Unnaturally, unholy, black. "Where is there <em>to</em> go?" She was sure the rest of the planet surely did not look like this. Maybe it was just Kenner? Maybe the military had let something go that they shouldn't have...but what would have kept she and Seren alive and pretty much unscathed? <br><br>Her head perked immediately as she heard the voice calling from a few blocks away. Normally they wouldn't have heard, but the dead silence made for a great conductor of sound, and while his voice wasn't the clearest, there was much reason to believe that was a real person and not her finally having snapped.<br><br>"Oiiiii!!!" Heather called back, turning to pull Seren to his feet whether he wanted to or not, "We're here!! Over here!!!" She began to hop around excitedly, a huge grin on her face. Someone else lived! There were other people!They weren't doomed! "Seren, someone else, someone else!!" As if he didn't already <em>know this.</em><br><br>--<br><br>"...I'm suddenly not even worried about any of this. It's just a glitch. But whatever, we'll go check it out. can't hurt, right? Maybe we'll find something growing there and that'll be good news?" The woman exited out the program she'd used to locate the planet, leaned back and folded her arms. "...ETA is about an hour, by the way. I guess that guy can continue stealing cargo for a little while longer."
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Travaius</strong> on <strong>29-07-2010, 09:39:53</strong>
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				“No, it’s most likely her again. It would be exactly like her to do this, make us go back to…this planet. Probably has found some way to torture us, probably dragged up some relative of ours and is using their dead body as a puppet. Wouldn’t put it past her, she is a teasing whore. Always threatening to kill me but never quite pulls the trigger on that one does she. Now we are going to give up a job so we&nbsp; can run back and let her to get to us again…”<br><br>Looking down at his hand for a moment, he sighed. Leaning back in the chair, he shut his eyes for a moment, then spun around to face Seven and Kara. Looking at the alien for a moment, he sighed as he looked him over.<br><br>“You still kind of freak me out, Seven. But you have been a good crew member for…whatever the hell it is you are. I don’t know. I should be drinking right now but Kara would kill me if I started drinking now. Or at least come close to it…Who would win in a fight between us now Kara? Any idea anymore? I mean you used to be able to kick my ass, but now…Hmm.”
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueShaine</strong> on <strong>29-07-2010, 09:46:09</strong>
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				&nbsp; There was a reply - a great sign! Marco began to pick up the pace of his moving along, gaining a bit of speed as he went. The more paces he took felt like his body rythms were coming back to normal, the soreness wore off a bit.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;"I'm on my way, are you all right?" He had noticed the girl who had called out to him jumping and went for their direction. He was thirsty, he was realizing as though for the first time. He'd have to start looking for basic needs, his mind was already telling him. Getting a decent ways closer to the two people he now saw, he stopped a healthy length away. "I'm glad to see I'm not alone. I'm Marco. Marco Bennois."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saragato</strong> on <strong>29-07-2010, 10:09:09</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Death was the only thing he could smell which led him to believe that there wasn't much to be found nearby. He never could walk very far, being as unfit as he was, so imagining scouring the place for miles for any other living thing or just food and water seemed rather tortuous to him. Couldn't they just find some way to kill themselves and have done with it? His limbs felt heavy, filled with rocks, lead, more dead bodies. Oh God--<br><br>He wiped his mouth again, stomach still convulsing despite just having given everything it had left. Good, he would starve first if thirst didn't claim him sooner. Didn't people die of thirst faster than hunger? Well they'd find out. It was supposed to be a painful death as well.<br><br>It was quite unlike him to be so morbid, those thoughts having ceased long ago when he'd turned his mind on everything but his home life and the lack of any strong male influence, but the situation was not leaving much room for optimism to squeeze in like a greased-up whore and work for its keep. So instead he felt his spirit sinking and his want to do anything, even move, dwindling rapidly. Of course when it came to these things he never got much say and soon he was yanked up by Heather as she squawked about something he wasn't really interested in hearing. His focus wasn't on her words, only that she bothered to make noise and make it loudly as she was prone to do whether in anger or joy. He had imagined the day they met she had been the loudest baby in the hospital, squalling at such a volume it made the nurses deaf and other newborns cry in aggravation of being outdone at only minutes old. <br><br>"Heather, really, do you think it matters? We're going to end up another fucking Donner party!" That was if any of them had the skills to build a fire if they couldn't find a Bic lighter amongst the dead. God, he couldn't even look at them now. It made his stomach churn and he was sure a major organ would be coming up in stomach acid's stead if he tried hard enough. <em>Oh what's that? Nothing, just a kidney. I have another one in there.</em><br><br>The voice became a silhouette, which then became a vague figure with discernible color differences to boast he wore clothes, and finally to an actual person. Seren eyed the newcomer with as much interest as one might eye a napkin on the table. He was no threat, clearly, but neither was he any sort of help. He had no supplies and he looked just as bedraggled as the two of them were, if not more so from wherever he'd woken up.<br><br>"Where's Polo?" Seren replied dryly, feeling no need to apologize for his poor humor. "The name's Seren, like it matters. This is Heather, the one that was screaming her lungs out like she didn't think there might be anything that could fucking eat us within hearing range, too. We have no supplies, we don't know what happened, and really I'm trying to find a nice Ruger off a cop, you game?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anakira</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 01:53:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Heather gave a pout at Seren as he introduced her less than excitedly. Shouldn't he be happy to see someone else alive? She sure as hell was! The more people there were around, the higher the chance was of surviving. She knew that already. So long as everyone had their head in the right place, they'd be okay. Right? Her mind was probably very unhealthily focused on everything but the carnage around them, and somewhere, the sanity at the back of her mind was telling her she was going to break down hard later.<br><br>"Marco!!" She called, waving eagerly before dragging Seren over to him with absolutely no regard for whether he was friendly or not. She didn't care what he looked like, really, who he was, but he was young, alive, and seemed healthy! Her smile greeted him more than Seren and his words, and she held her hand out to shake his. "We're gonna be survivor buddies! ....But we still need the 'Asshole' and the 'Token Black Guy'." Her humor probably wasn't going to be very appreciated at a time like this, but it kept her away from more crushing thoughts. Those weren't places she wanted her mind to be. Not around other people.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Shihong</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 04:22:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center"><span style="font-size: 24pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: impact;" class="bbc_font">SEVEN</span></span></div><div align="center">---Current Location: The Bridge---</div><br>Seven brought an arm up to what may have possibly been his chin, rubbing at the lurid chitin nub in a motion that suggested he was deep in thought.&nbsp; It was an uncharacteristically human gesture, and one that he had most likely picked up from one of the other crew members.&nbsp; <br><br>"Puppet?&nbsp; Doubtful.&nbsp; Blight Decorus is spontaneous, but not prone to repetition.&nbsp; Return to Eyarth.&nbsp; Mother of Humans.&nbsp; Significant.&nbsp; Different.&nbsp; She is doing something <em>different</em>.&nbsp; Perhaps, a greater scale.&nbsp; A change.&nbsp; I feel it, burning inside.&nbsp; <em>We</em> feel it."<br><br>Several of his eyes focused on Kara and Etienne in turn as they lamented the sudden change of plans, and he seemed to bristle with irritation that shuddered down the myriad ropes of crimson muscle and ending with a dull ring at the metallic orb that comprised his pelvis.<br><br>"Human Kara.&nbsp; Human Etienne.&nbsp; You are both different, but the same.&nbsp; Pained.&nbsp; It lingers, weighing your limbs, slowing your movements.&nbsp; Your thoughts strike an ashen, sour note.&nbsp; Our prey shows itself again, and you act as though it is an unwelcome distraction.&nbsp; You bleat and bemoan, that we cannot chase an impotent criminal so that you may fill your coffers.&nbsp; Detestable." <br><br>Seven's left hand had clutched the side of a computer databank in order to steady his body, and when it came away again his fingers had left visible indents in the metal.&nbsp; It was difficult to discern emotions in such a bizarre voice as his, but it seemed to be buzzing with extra vigor now.<br><br>"We have only one goal.&nbsp; A purpose that has been bestowed upon us.&nbsp; In this infinite black expanse, we alone nip at the heels of this Blighted madness.&nbsp; We do what others cannot.&nbsp; <em>Will</em> not, due to ignorance, arrogance, and fear.&nbsp; It is our reason for being.&nbsp; The definition of our existence.&nbsp; A Mission.&nbsp; <em>The</em> Mission.&nbsp; The only one that matters."<br><br>His massive bulk collected itself, seeming all the larger in that small space.&nbsp; He gestured towards Etienne, his mandibles snapping like broken bones.&nbsp; "You seek death?" He pointed towards the window sharply.&nbsp; "Open the door, and walk out.&nbsp; Erase yourself.&nbsp; Remove yourself from our sight.&nbsp; But do not continue to fight the Blight Decorus with the hope that she will kill you.&nbsp; Fight with your entire being, or do not fight at all."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueShaine</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 04:45:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp; &nbsp;He'd come across some strange couple. The boy moreso, for the way he was taking it. But he addressed the question Seren had given him to show he was willing to be sociable. "Yeah, score a gun? If any of these people's stuff isn't corroded or eaten away. It's like our personal belongings weren't touched, which honestly makes no damn sense when you look at everything else here." He kicked a sketelon's arm bones away from his shoe. To the girl's comment, he raised a brow.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;"Token....black guy? If we do find one, I'm not sure I'll be able to keep a straight face now." He wanted to help steady the guy, who looked like he wasn't holding up so well. But Marco waited instead.&nbsp; "Okay, so maybe this looks bad on the surface alone. Maybe the basements of some of these buildings are intact. Let's find out."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Travaius</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 05:05:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Etienne’s head whipped around to stare at Seven. His eyes flared in anger and he shook his head. Standing up, he clenched his fists at his sides, taking a step towards the alien. His eyes flicked to Kara and he shook his head, sitting back down and looking at him. Reaching into his pocket, he took a toothpick out and put it into his mouth. Chewing on it for a moment, he sighed as he quickly tried to decide if getting a drink would be a good idea. Knowing Kara would most likely throw him out of the ship if he tried to drink while he was responsible for the ship. His attention turned back to Seven and he shook his head.<br><br>“Look you oversized blender, be careful what you say about me. You have been on this ship six months. I have been hunting this demon longer than you. Do not think that for a minute that you can talk up to me like that. Where do you think I come from? Do you have any idea where my planet is? I do not care about some idiotic criminal for the money. I just don’t want to go to that planet at all, but all you can see is one reason so you run to it. But why do you care about my reasons? Decorus will one day kill me, just like she kills anyone that truly fights her. If not in her action, then she will slowly take pieces of me until the old me is entirely gone.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saragato</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 06:42:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				What the hell was with her reaction? She was taking this like they had merely cracked open a really bad thriller novel and not the real world. Really, would she pull out that inane book about surviving a zombie apocalypse next and start quoting it as though she were some Televangelist leading lambs to greener pastures and from the mouths of wolves? He itched to make some remark toward her about it, maybe even hit her, but he knew he A) had nothing to say and, B) would never hit her. Maybe he was the stupid one for that but even in jest he'd never hit hard enough to leave even a pink residual mark on the victim area. He kept trying to tell himself that it was only the situation, the immediate notion that everyone was <em>dead</em>, turning his otherwise mellow and rather slow-on-the-uptake personality into a bitter, rage-consumed one.<br><br>Of course this fellow, Marco, wasn't exactly helping things but that was hardly his fault. Heaven only knew what he was thinking of the both of them, nevermind the situation at hand. It couldn't be a comfort to stumble upon a seemingly stupid girl and a rather macabre boy. Then again all things can be worse; just not right now.<br><br>"Remind me who in Louisiana has a basement," he cut through the silence of what he supposed had been thought but was now another life dangling on the edge of a cliff, looking to let go of the ledge and fall upon the jagged rocks below. <em>Natural splash of color, hmn? Good, vibrant taint against ALL THE GRAY.</em> Well we wouldn't dwell on that. "We're below sea level, if there's even a sea anymore. So face it, we're fucked. I mean look around. What building looks intact? That fucking government building has a CHUNK OUT OF IT." Uncharacteristically he twisted out of Heather's grasp, shoving her arm back towards her body with a huff that sounded like a muffled curse of some sort. "No weapons, no food, no shelter."<br><br>His hands slipped into his pants pockets just as his spine curved to allow his torso to slump while still keeping him upright. His left hand curled around something, jolting when the pad of his ring finger came into contact with something sharp and pulled back out, showing the reddened area that threatened broken skin and, ultimately, blood. What did he have in there? Again the hand dove, grabbing the smooth length and pulled free a calligrapher's pen, the metal tip still slightly stained with India ink. He had taken to using it for inking sketches and practicing his horrid handwriting, but he couldn't for the life of him remember why he'd had it with him beforehand. Of course he couldn't remember much of before they'd blacked out. What on earth was he going to do with this stupid thing?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anakira</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 07:06:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The teen's face fell. Maybe she was taking the situation too lightly, but it was really all she could do. Offer smiles, bad jokes, the sound of laughter somewhere. Her brain really hadn't processed the death yet, something she was quite known for (It had taken over a month for her to realize her Uncle was dead and for her to mourn properly). "...Also, we're not around any houses. The closest thing is City Hall and all that's there is a bunch of prolly' melted computers and...Well, maybe there were a few cops there, but I don't think anyone gets weapons there. Ser's right though, this place is pretty torn up. No food, no water...no...weapons, we're lucky to even get shelter." Her best friend's unchanging sour mood was starting to drag her own down a few notches though she was fighting it as best she could. But when two people as close as they were shared a bond, it was really, honestly hard to fight much.<br><br>"...Sorry, we kind of came super unprepared for sudden apocalypses...Bahaha, and they said it'd all end in 2012! How dumb, right?! ....Er..." The brief laugh choked from her throat midway and her mouth fell into a frown, one side twitching once or twice in protest. "...Sorry, Ser, I..." The sentence died out midway before she turned her gaze to Marco. <br><br>"So uh, you not from around here or sommin'?" As she asked this, her eyes turned upward. Now that her jacket was off, she could feel the...very distinct weather pattern of....nothingness? The air seemed...stale, there was no breeze, no real temperature. It was neither hot nor cold, humid nor dry. It was the strangest feeling against her skin, though her lungs and sinuses were quick to tell her the air was piercing at the very least. What kind of weather <em>was</em> this?<br><br>--<br><br>The copilot gave a heavy, bodywracking sigh. Her eyes closed and her hand came up to rub the bridge of her nose, the area between her eyes. There was a headache forming there, a worse headache than she usually carried about her. These two were going to be the death of her, rather; <em>Etienne</em> was going to be her death. He was always such a downer in situations he didn't need to be, or he was too fiery when the situation called for a calm mind. There was a better day, a brighter time when he would joke and play...those days were gone. He had really brightened the mood then, really...gave life to the ship, but nowadays it seemed like that job had fallen to Seven. It wasn't really anything he purposely did, either! It was all pure, unadultured innocence and simple cultural differences that made him so...cute? Funny? ...Creepy? All of the above sounded good.<br><br>"Ettie, please." She had finally had enough of listening to him complain. "It's bad enough we know it's going to happen, it's bad enough we're living through it...but really, you don't hear me singing about the eventual end of days. We all know what she's doing, I...would rather not hear it from anyone on this ship. Seven is right....I suppose. Though I never said I would rather be chasing some low-key criminal...it's beyond the point." She waved her hand. "I still set the coordinates, we're still heading there. Pardon my pessimism if I don't want to be greeted by fleshy puppets spewing blood or people still hardly alive screaming for help when we all know where they're headed. Pardon the lack of excitement in my voice as we come within inches of the bitch and she simply...<em>poofs</em> out into a fine black mist from under us! I just...I'm running out of options, I don't know what the Hell to <em>do.</em> I don't know how to kill her, I don't know the first fucking <em>thing</em> about her." Suddenly, hearing herself say that out loud, Kara realized how plain <em>dumb</em> that sounded. <br><br>Suddenly, though, she found she wasn't feeling so well. She had forced some food down for breakfast, something she didn't usually do. The woman ate generally once a day and never with the crew though she usually sat with them.&nbsp; She stood shakily, one hand to her forehead, "...I'm not feeling well. I'll be back in a moment, sorry..." And with great haste she rushed from the bridge to make for the first private area of the ship with a disposal system.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueShaine</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 07:27:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp; Marco dusted his shoulder off to clear more decay off it. "No, I'm not. I was here for vacation with my uncle's family, to get away from my own parents for a bit. It looks like I got more than what I wished for..."<br>&nbsp;Squinting as he looked around, he shook his head. "It's not like there isn't <em>any</em> weapons here, you just need to think primal to get some. Bones...rocks...it's all good. Hell, you've at least got an impromptu shank there, Seren. All I've got is my fists until I can think up something better. It's still a little creepy to take bones from folks I saw the last time I was awake." he shrugged. "But if that's what I need to do, who am I to bitch?"<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He went glancing about for a solid leg bone to pick up.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saragato</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 08:38:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"What do they care what we do with their remains? It's a pity they're skeletons, many fine lassos have been made from the guts of animals and as humans are we not, too, animals? Pity indeed for there is much to be done with just a liver or even the under-appreciated pancreas."</em> As soon as the last words left his mouth, the smallest of the three double over, hacking violently into his hand which did little good for now he was inhaling bone and concrete dust that scratched at the insides of his lungs like a prisoner, raking until nails popped off one by one and causing pain and just a droplet of blood to come up before he stumbled to lean against a post bent at an acute angle, shuddering and wheezing. He was now a good pigment paler than before, eyes wide as he tried to calm down enough to even talk.<br><br>"L-like I was saying... no real weapons. Unless one of us has a secret surname of Mcgyver then we're pretty much starting with some crude stuff that'll break or be too clunky to wield effectively. We can only hope whatever comes along can't move fast and hasn't got any kind of brain power to go off of." For the first time since he woke up, Seren managed a laugh that was not only frail, but quite aware of the hopelessness of it all and still managed to be birthed from his throat to strangle itself in the flat air. "So basically we're hoping nothing like Pyramid Head crops up." Knowing their luck, however, not only would such a creature emerge, but they wouldn't be given the luxury of starting from a save point when the boss came in for the kill with its equivalent of a butcher's knife the size of a grown man.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anakira</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 09:07:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"...Seren...? I...really think this place has gotten to you..." She rubbed her arm, running her tongue over her dry lips in effort to moisten them. It did little good. "...I....want out of here, I really...think...maybe I'm gonna be sick, too." Instinctively, she took a few steps from her friend and toward Marco, a mind that seemed a good deal more stable at the moment. "...I...I really don't like how any of this is turning out, I want to get away from here, really badly, like, right now..." She spoke slowly, deliberately, and fear suddenly tainted her voice like the rot on a banana- quick to appear, quick to spread. Something was wrong, suddenly so very wrong. Could neither of them feel it? Perhaps Seren did before she, but why was Marco so <em>fucking calm!?</em><br><br>Something freezing cold, something not liquid, solid, nor gas began to twine around the leg of the younger man. It snaked around, crawled up, totally unnoticed by the other standing- it was clinging to his leg under the pants-leg, working its way up quite quickly along his body before giving almost a...loving, gentle stroke on the inner thigh. It as almost like icewater save for the dictinct chill it left behind everywhere it touched, burning straight down into muscle and even bone. There was even a sort of sound that flitted through the stale, hanging air...almost reminiscent of a woman laughing...A warped laugh. Or perhaps they had lost it? Hadn't taken very long at all.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueShaine</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 09:17:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp; &nbsp;<em>Christ, what the fuck is wrong with these two?</em> Marco took a femur in his hand and smashed the end with a larger chunk of concrete. The splintered sounds dimly got the wretching sounds Seren was making, and Marco looked briefly with pity before he held back his own gag reflex. Watching someone puke was like yawning. It just made you want to do it, too.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; He was hardier, though. He was scowling as he shook off the nausea and then the air made a noise. Marco stood up and gripped the bone tight. "What was that?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saragato</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 09:53:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He felt truly bad for a moment for causing Heather such pain, knowing his mood was affecting her as though they were twins and not just best friends. This whole situation was causing him to be sick and a wreck of great proportions, which was only going to worsen things for all three of them if he kept it up. Still he could not fight past the hopelessness and he couldn't swallow the horse pill of ultimate bad karma. There was no silver lining, hell there wasn't even a sun or moon. What hour was it? What day, month, year, millennium? How long had they been out? If they were this unscathed with bones around them, who was to say they didn't last longer than the usual week before starvation set in and killed them?<br><br>"Maybe you're right, I'm sorry..." Taking a step, he felt an odd sensation slither around his ankle like a cat might in passing affection, only it did not feel solid and was cold as death itself on a January day. Coiling and moving up and under the baggy jean pant leg, it caressed the pale calf, the knobby knee that was scuffed from rough play on carpet in his younger years, and to the sensitive thigh that despite belonging to one of the male persuasion, was near hairless and smooth, just thick enough to pinch a bit of fat between forefinger and thumb should one be so inclined. Unused to such a touch and not quite in the right state of mind to be any sort of rational, he took in the arctic burn and felt blood rush downward, seeking solace in a place often forgotten that began its shift into a more rigid state, straining against the thick denim and causing more pain for the way it had been tucked into his boxers in haste when he'd dressed. A heavy shudder racked his body and illicited a groan that was somewhere between the beginnings of pleasure and the swelling of pain.<br><br>Then the laughter drifted to his ears.<br><br><em>Her</em>.<br><br>The pen was now in a vice grip, held as one might a knife in offense, and he stumbled gracelessly back, tripping over himself and debris only to land in the middle of a ribcage, the marrow-less bone shattering cleanly upon impact and throwing up dust and bits of bleached bone to settle on him. "You heard that too?" It was directed at Marco though his eyes were everywhere but on him, Heather, or the sick display of fear in his lap. "I've heard that voice before. In a nightmare. Whoever it belongs to... <em>whatever</em> it belongs to... did all this. Has to be."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anakira</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 10:29:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I don't care, I just want away from here." The cold felt worse. Why did it suddenly feel cold? It was a sort of cold from inside, something in her chest that decided to surface just now. It caused her to exhale heavily, but contrary to what she expected, there was no cloud of steam. What was going on? The girl's teal eyes settled on Seren as he stumbled backward though, forgetting her apprehensions suddenly as she ran to help him up. "Ser, a-are you....uh....alright..? What happened...? ...What...What <em>happened!?</em>" She couldn't help but notice the new feature adorning her friend's pants, and immediately she moved her body to shield it from Marco's eyes. Whatever it was, it was probably involuntary and could actually have been a bad sign.<br><br>Laughter. Right? That <em>was</em> laughter, wasn't it? It sounded so strange, though! Nothing human ever made that noise. Ever.<br><br>That snake of cold and ill will continued to slither up, coiling around the show of fear briefly before deciding the area was rather boring and shooting straight up Seren's stomach, quickly dodging under his arm and following his spine up to his neck, where whatever it was caressed him.<br><br><em>"Sssssseren....?"</em> The voice hissed, still as twisted and inhuman as the laugh had been earlier, <em>"That is your name, yes, darling? Oh, </em>my<em> it has been a while...! Why don't we play for a little while, yes?"</em> He hadn't felt it physically, but that hissing voice became more solid, more..tangible, as it were, and before he knew anything he literally had a woman hanging off of his shoulder. The first telltale sign had been Heather's shriek of both shock and the most absolute fear, and the show had caused her to stumble back herself. The girl fell into Marco, a sudden though being she hoped to high hell he could support her weight.<br><br>The cause for the fear was rather obvious by this point. The woman was a pale thing and completely naked save for the shroud of black that covered her skin. Patches of the 'natural' skin tone shown through in swirling patterns, but it seemed useless as a cover for her body as one moderate, perky breast remained almost completely bare, her nipple exposed and full of as much zeal as she seemed to show off in that twisted smile of hers.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueShaine</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 10:57:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;He almost impaled Heather when she fell back into him, but instinct aside he was able to move the makeshift weapon and also tense his arms to stop the girl from knocking the two of them on their asses. As for keeping her up? That wasn't easy with her arms flailing, but it managed&nbsp; to happen with him stepping his foot back to lock the balance in. "Hmph!" He blew out the sound and that was when he noticed the newcomer.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; And what an unusual and gothically distubing sight she was. Modesty kicked in, he dropped his eyes to Seren to see the look of fear and...was that hate? But he wasn't in the rationale of analyzing the spur of the moment. "How in the hell did you do that? How do you know him?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saragato</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 17:27:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He had hoped that if anyone were to bother to drop their gaze that far below that it would be Marco who was not only another guy, but a stranger. At least then he knew that someone would not only understand that this organ was not exactly straining voluntarily but that they just wouldn't care. Unfortunately for him it was Heather who noticed first and, as always, had to make a grand production <em>from</em> noticing. It wasn't the first time she'd caught him giving a handless salute but that did not make any bit of this easier on him, face going red as the blood tried to salvage what was left of the young man's dignity and flee to the opposite end of the torso and up into his head. Again the laughter rang out, dizzying this time and when the same reptilian sensation worked its way around him from base to tip he felt his head drop back, eyes rolling to the back of his head. <em>No no no, this isn't right! Damn it, find a way to get it off you!</em><br><br>It had the same idea and recoiled, almost disgusted that suggested it was either not after the poor fool's innocence or his tool wasn't quite up to par with what it wanted. Instead it moved around his chest, under his right arm, and followed the barely noticeable knobs that indicated his spine to the back of his neck, almost purposely running against the sensitive area there as well that sent gooseflesh down his back, arms, and even legs. He only broke free from the trance of pleased confusion when he heard his name hissed out, echoing in a cavernous roar inside his mind. It knew his name? How? Surely he hadn't given it back when it caused all this death and destruction, no, he would have been too busy trying to escape like everyone else. But it knew nonetheless, mentioned meeting before, and... what?<br><br>A weight was added to his arm, not as forceful as Heather when she tugged on any limb or leaned against him, but solid and real enough to let him know it was a full grown person. Glancing over he nearly had a perfectly round, perfectly erect and taut nipple thrust into his eye like an erotic needle. The blood doubled in his face, turning the pale flesh almost violet at this point, and he tried putting as much distance as he could between them despite her leeching. Perhaps if she wasn't wearing a demented Cheshire Cat grin he could say she was a 12 on a scale of 1 to 10, but even if she hadn't there was something in her eyes that spoke of darkness, the end of days, and the worst flavor of madness anyone could ever taste and barely live to tell about. Even that was debatable. Something in the back of his mind growled animalistically, a lion finding another predator in its path, which caused the fear to almost entirely drain like a pus-filled sore to give way to metallic anger.<br><br>"Psycho bitch!"<br><br>Without hesitation, the pen, before only a tool for creation and beauty, swiftly became a weapon of pain and sordid ugliness as his hand brought it up and aimed the sharp point straight for one of her wide, almost too-excited eyes. "No means no, goddamnit!"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anakira</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 22:48:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Psycho bitch?!" The demon echoed, the tone of her voice making it sound like she was taken aback. "Seren honey, have you forgotten my name?" Both hands slid to his shoulders and just as swiftly as he had turned to get away from the demon clinging to him, she shifted with him. It did not matter where he went, for she was as light as perhaps an extra shirt, hardly putting any pressure the frightened boy at all. The whole while she continued to touch him, the pen seeming to slide straight through her efffortlessly without drawing a single drop of blood. Her expression softened slightly to one of mild confusion. "You... You're a lot smaller than I remember, boy... How old are you? How many years have you been alive?" With a fluid motion the demoness floated to Seren's front, grabbing him firmly by the jaw and turning his head to have a better look at him. "Curious..." Now that he hands were solid, her touch wasn't quite so cold, so alien. Still, it want quite as warm as a human's hand would be at all. If he felt hard enough, he might have felt a pulse, some semblence of her being alive whatsoever. <br><br>It took a long moment for Heather to regain her balance. She used Marco to stand again, muttering incomprehensibly before she stood firmly on her feet. Her eyes widened at the sight of the woman hanging all over her best friend. Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to put her hands on... HER friend?!&nbsp; "Hey!! Hey, you psycho bitch!! GET OFF OF HIM." Rage had flooded her senses immediately, turning every bit of common sense and reasoning she had off. In any other situation, the best idea was to run. To put distance between them. Survival instinct, to put it simply. But this wasn't just her in this situation, whatver the hell that woman was was scaring Seren and sending chills down her own spine. Something was wrong, something was... Very wong. Her hand fumbled around in her pocket for the baton she had taken less than thirty minutes ago. <br><br>"Again with the name? YOU especially should know who I am!" Decorus' nose wrinkled as her nails dug into Seren's arm. "And when did you get <em>fat?</em> I don't remember you ever looking like THAT."<br><br>The rage flooded out of Heather's body through a blush. "...Really...? You... I.... Did you just...what?!" What was this lady's problem...?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueShaine</strong> on <strong>31-07-2010, 05:58:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Watching Seren scramble around and the thing that laughed and joked and smiled follow after was getting to Marco at last. He was nearly gaping with this thing that showed up. It wasn't completely real or tangible, so was it a ghost? Maybe that Silent Hill joke wasn't too far off. Whatever was happening, the being -she- knew Seren and Heather. And they didn't know her - or at least one of them didn't. Seren's reactions were of a basic fear emerging, like he'd known all his existence as frail as it looked that he should not trust this partially nude woman.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Marco didn't move when Heather started fuming at the woman-thing. He held the femur defensively and waited, but he strongly felt he was going to trust that gut reaction Seren was having soon.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Shihong</strong> on <strong>01-08-2010, 05:06:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center"><span style="font-size: 24pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: impact;" class="bbc_font">SEVEN</span></span></div><div align="center">---Current Location: The Bridge---</div><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=77165.msg3382584#msg3382584">Quote from: Travaius on 30-07-2010, 05:05:00</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"> Decorus will one day kill me, just like she kills anyone that truly fights her. If not in her action, then she will slowly take pieces of me until the old me is entirely gone.”<br></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>"Do not think in inevitabilities," he responded, whipping his arm out in front of him as though to swat away all the oily thoughts squirming around in Etienne's skull and banish them utterly.&nbsp; "You say the Blight will consume you.&nbsp; That it will gnaw upon your being and leave nothing but a hardened carapace, ill of temperament and devoid of passion.&nbsp; You claim this as fact, and fact it will become so long as you hold it to be true.&nbsp; Do not allow her this victory.&nbsp; <em>Refuse</em> it with all your being.&nbsp; Reject her words and actions with every breath you yet draw, and the reality of things will be as you choose them to be.&nbsp; Or succumb, and rot.&nbsp; But if you must, choose to do so in silence."<br><br>Seven's arm retracted with an audible suction, the tension freeing itself from his muscles and seeping out of him with a shudder.&nbsp; So too did his agitation seem to fade, as though merely saying his piece was enough to take the fight out of him, regardless of the man's response.&nbsp; Outbursts like that were rarities for him, and he disliked the confrontation.&nbsp; His thoughts buzzed unpleasantly.&nbsp; Writhing.<br><br><em>Human Etienne.&nbsp; Broken.&nbsp; Hum-...Kara.&nbsp; Exhausted, but clinging to fragile hopes.&nbsp; How can they be this way?&nbsp; How is it possible to see anything but victory?&nbsp; There is no sadness.&nbsp; There is no hopelessness.&nbsp; A constant struggle towards a certain end.&nbsp; I may die.&nbsp; Human Etienne may die.&nbsp; Kara may die.&nbsp; But the Mission lives on.&nbsp; The Ultothar lives on.&nbsp; Eternal, and righteous.</em><br><br>His eyes--every one of them--focused on Kara as she spoke, and followed her as she fled the bridge.&nbsp; It was difficult to read emotions on such a strange and alien mask as his, but something approximating worry lingered there; the subtle twitching of mandibles, a bowing of the head.&nbsp; Bafflement.&nbsp; Concern.<br><br><em>Weakening.&nbsp; Sickening.&nbsp; All to maintain a guise.&nbsp; Shrouding that which remains hidden.&nbsp; And in deception, we all weaken with her.</em><br><br>"I return to my quarters," he said abruptly, casting only one eye in Etienne's direction.&nbsp; "Steel yourself for what is to come.&nbsp; Do not falter in this, Human Etienne."<br><br>He slipped from the room in a flash of red flesh, faded blue, and glinting steel, a slithery bolt that vanished as the door slid closed behind him.&nbsp; Serpentine, he fluidly passed through the maze of corridors, bending around the occasional surprised crewman and hissing stilted apologies until he'd appeared beside what he deduced would be the proper door.&nbsp; His hand hesitantly hovered before it, then rapped against the side.<br><br>"Kara?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anakira</strong> on <strong>01-08-2010, 05:24:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There was a faint retching sound from the back of the woman's quarters as the sparse contents of breakfast came up absolutely undigsted. Her body just couldn't handle it. The crew was well aware the woman was allergic to quite a lot, but there were times-- nearly all the time-- where she would completely disregard her allergies or her health at all to partake in the same activities such as eating the same foods or drinking alcohol. Except alcohol was far more dangerous than anything else; even Kara wasn't quite sure what it was. For having such a strong mind and body in structure, its inner workings were rather lacking.<br><br>The voice that asked for her was absolute. Nobody else, not even if they were professional mimics, could ever come close to what Seven's voice sounded like. The very...texture of it was enough to creep people out, much less the nightmares it <em>must</em> cause to some.<br><br>"Come in..." Her own weak, raspy voice called, though she knew he would enter anyway. Personal space wasn't something he oft respected, and perhaps, in her case, she enjoyed that.&nbsp; She never had someone to stay up with her at night before, never spoke through the night with anyone, not since this horrible insomnia took hold of her. It made her body weak but so did a lot of other habits she kept. The fact she could swing a whip at all or launch bombs at the right angle was a miraculous one.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Shihong</strong> on <strong>01-08-2010, 05:48:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center"><span style="font-size: 24pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: impact;" class="bbc_font">SEVEN</span></span></div><div align="center">---Current Location: Kara's Quarters---</div><br>She was right, of course--Seven hadn't waited for a response before admitting himself.&nbsp; It was enough of a courtesy that he had even bothered to announce himself at all, rather than surprising her yet again mid-retch.&nbsp; There were rare occasions when he remembered some semblance of social tact, and Kara's irritable stomach would no doubt be thankful that this was one of them.<br><br>Of course, that didn't stop him from being a slippery bastard all the same.<br><br>"Kara.&nbsp; You are unwell.&nbsp; Again," he stated bluntly, almost exasperatedly...from behind her.&nbsp; In the precious few moments between entering and her hoarse words he had somehow managed to nestle himself in the woman's shower stall, his tremendous bulk fitting snugly enough that he had to wrap his arms around his bent legs in order to keep from spilling out of it.&nbsp; <br><br>He scrutinized the unpleasant conglomeration of undigested foods and liquids now stinking up the toilet as though entranced by the sight, then seemed to remember himself and focus instead on the woman that vexed him.<br><br>"It goes on.&nbsp; This behavior.&nbsp; Tasting delicious morsels on the tongue for brief moments of Belonging with your crew, and in privacy you suffer the rancid taste of bile.&nbsp; Sour and unclean."<br><br>He expelled a deep breath, more to display his confusion than anything else--it had long ago become apparent that he didn't need to breathe.&nbsp; He placed a hand on Kara's shoulder to steady her, pressing a bit too firmly on the skin.&nbsp; A curious but common habit.&nbsp; At first it had just been assumed that he was uncertain how much pressure to apply to other species, but perhaps it was not quite so obvious as that.<br><br>"You hide this.&nbsp; You hide this away within yourself like the food that sickens you.&nbsp; It is hurting.&nbsp; It is harming.&nbsp; When will Kara allow this to end?&nbsp; When will she release this weight?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anakira</strong> on <strong>01-08-2010, 06:01:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Protection, Seven." Came her blunt reply as she let her hair go, closing the lavatory and sinking back against it. "Nobody needs to know. Especially not coming home as we do so often." Her homeworld, Oblivion.&nbsp; "If Risil suspected anything, he could take one of our crewmembers and...I don't want to think about what that man is capable of. If nobody knows, nobody has a secret to hide. It's just you and I...and I trust you. Nnnn...not that I don't trust Ettie or anyone else, I just..." The will to finish her sentence faded. It wasn't them she distrusted. It was her own home, really. A place where those who weren't human were killed, tortured, or, at best, deported.<br><br>"I miss how it used to be. Back when I was a war hero, when I was a bounty hunter, when I had...Soren, Walker..." Her hand ran through her hair, resting on the back of her scalp as she rested it against the lid of the toilet. "Seven...I have been unwell for a long time. Have you...ever become attached to anyone? Emotionally, physically...mentally?" Her eyes rested on his hand, the one that locked into her shoulder almost painfully before they came up to see his face. Or rather, what she would consider his face; it was where his eyes were, anyway.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Shihong</strong> on <strong>01-08-2010, 06:25:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center"><span style="font-size: 24pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: impact;" class="bbc_font">SEVEN</span></span></div><div align="center">---Current Location: Kara's Quarters---</div><br>He stared for a moment, tilting his head from side to side in thought.&nbsp; It was a wholly human gesture, as whatever constituted his brain was locked away in the metallic sphere at his waist.&nbsp; Seven had picked up on quite a few mannerisms over the brief six months aboard the Castiel, most of them related to cocking his head at odd angles whenever he was forced to ponder something.&nbsp; That and a particularly hilarious occasion where he kept flipping Etienne the bird with both hands whenever they crossed paths, having confused the gesture for a greeting after seeing it performed by a female crew member towards one of the more uncouth members of the maintenance staff.<br><br>"There is no greater Truth than Connection for me and my blessed kin, Kara.&nbsp; Within the glorious Ultothar we are of one mind and body, joined in a union without equal.&nbsp; There is no greater attachment than the one I feel for the One who bestowed life upon me, and all of its limitless multitudes of children."<br><br>His voice, usually incomprehensible, was somehow thick with emotion, all dull thrumming and deep percussive clicks.&nbsp; But he paused in his revery, casting his face downwards towards the haggard woman in his grip.&nbsp; Though Seven's words were logical and profound in his mind, some faint unease made him begin to doubt that it was the answer that Kara was looking for.&nbsp; To him it was natural, but to aliens it would be nothing more than an abstract concept, undefinable and incomprehensible.<br><br><em>What a sad reality, that there are those who are barred from the brilliant warmth of a Collective Consciousness...</em><br><br>"Individual Attachment.&nbsp; Local.&nbsp; Personal.&nbsp; These are foreign things.&nbsp; Difficult to grasp.&nbsp; To understand."&nbsp; Another pause, and his hand went limp and returned sluggishly to his side.&nbsp; "But we recognize it.&nbsp; Acknowledge it.&nbsp; In the times before, when Human Heather's consciousness still sang with a purity matching that of her blade, we would engage one another in discourse and combat routines.&nbsp; And now, when I pass by areas of the Castiel Organism in which we both tread, I remember these times and feel a jarring Absence."<br><br>"I am uncertain if that is what Attachment is, but it is the only definition I know."<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anakira</strong> on <strong>01-08-2010, 06:55:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her index finger pressed into her lips in thought. Kara was feeling much better now that the food had been purged from her system, and so hardly thought of it anymore. She listened to Seven talk about his great connection with his people, and then about his connection with the late Heather. They were the same and yet so vastly different, or, at least, that was how she pictured it.&nbsp; Having a connection to every living thing and one's own God (or Godlike creature) would be tiring on her own conscious, but she could envision it. A million voices singing, whispering...was that how it was? Her own voice in another's mind somewhere? The thought made her breathe out a low 'wow' before she began to mull over how best to explain herself next.<br><br>"...Sort of like that, yes. I'm not sure if you can...miss..someone, but you feel the emptiness of what was once there that no longer is. When you feel that...absence, how does it make you feel? Isn't there a bit of a longing for her to fill that space again? That is...how I feel, I guess... See, I used to be part of this huge crew of bounty hunters, led by my Father. I practically grew up with these two guys and I felt closer to them than anyone else, ever. In that war they've alluded to back home, one died and the other left...and ...Decorus killed him. I know she did. That demon didn't know me well enough to use someone against me, or know who, or even care.&nbsp; Wasn't much fun anyway, guess I looked too sickly to pick on. She preferred my father, personally. But ah...The absence my two closest friends left, it hurts. It's like being completely rendered through and allowing one's insides to spill everywhere while having ice poured in its place. Everyone keeps telling me I'll get better, but it's been almost five years since Soren died and almost three since I lost Walker. And then Heather? <em>She's</em> gone, the bitch..." It was clear Kara hadn't moved on from much of anything that had happened to her in the past few years.<br><br>"So...tired, yes. I am very tired. A lot of days I hardly have the will to even get out of bed even though I hardly sleep. I haven't eaten properly in months, and the whole damn ship's lucky I still bathe regularly." An eyebrow arched at Seven in an attempt at jest. "But if you see alcohol anywhere around me, I'm going to need you to <em>not</em> let me drink it." This was something she had explained to Etienne once after he offered her a drink, but she wasn't quite sure if she'd ever brought it up around her alien friend.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saragato</strong> on <strong>03-08-2010, 04:12:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Name?<br><br>This... <em>thing</em> had a name? Someone had cared enough to give it something to identify itself as for the rest of its existence? Now that was truly putrid. Whatever she was Seren was sure she had slithered into being in the same manner oil slicked over water, intrusive, unwanted, cold, and hard as hell to get rid of. That thought only left him for the more puzzling one of her mentioning they knew each other enough for them to be on a first name basis, if she even had a surname like any human. Surely not.<br><br>His arm gave all it had in force for what he hoped was a crippling, if not blinding, blow, but the metal sunk into nothing, wisps carelessly curling as though she were smoke and with the momentum he found himself almost crushed against her, feet awkwardly fumbling in the old sneakers to gain enough traction to scoot back. Despite her apparition-esque trick he picked up a scent off her person, finding it a mix of blood, some foreign nothingness one might associate with the smell off an astronaut's suit, and the aura of madness. Most would smell like soap or sweat, she wasn't even giving off a body odor.<br><br>"Apparently long enough for Alzheimer's. I don't know you or your name and really I don't want to." She wasn't worth his time, but that was mainly because he had no idea how to fight, much less fight anything like her and dare think he'd win. She was some parasite, a disease, a plague, a gluttonous she-beast. If he couldn't even best some guy five inches taller than him with a cupcake gut how was he going to even have her get a bruise?<br><br>Heather screamed at her which made him go a little red for the knowledge he was pretty much the damsel and she had taken it upon herself to have the woman's attention averted either for another attack or escape. He'd die if Heather ended up landing a blow, that would be the right true end to his masculinity. But whatever she had planned fell through as the woman again mentioned knowing them... and telling Heather she was fat.<br><br>"Hey fuck off she isn't fat! At least she has enough respect for her body not to flounce her tits like you, slore!" Yeah good job buddy.<br><br>If she knew the two of them, was there a chance she knew Marco as well? Had they battled her before they blacked out, had she been human once and known them all? Exactly what was it that connected them to her, and all of them to this destruction? What purpose had it served, would they ever know that? Chances are they wouldn't but even so. Something in the back of his mind ached, making him taste metal for just a moment, feel his fingers dripping warmth, before it all dissipated.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Shihong</strong> on <strong>03-08-2010, 04:42:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center"><span style="font-size: 24pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: impact;" class="bbc_font">SEVEN</span></span></div><div align="center">---Current Location: Kara's Quarters---</div><br>Seven went silent, turning his face this way and that and fidgeting with his hands as though trying to get at an itch that couldn't be reached no matter how far he reached or how much he scratched.&nbsp; It wasn't a nervous movement brought on by stress, but one of irritable confusion.<br><br><em>Ignorance.</em><br><br>"Ignorance," he said aloud, squirming his way out of the bath and settling beside Kara instead, legs crossed and hands biting into soft curves that were currently acting as kneecaps.&nbsp; His voice took on a new tone, one that buzzed with activity.&nbsp; "We are small, Kara.&nbsp; Tiny things scrambling in the Great Black in search of answers, when we do not even know the questions they belong to.&nbsp; We take leaps of logic and find that our faith goes unrewarded.&nbsp; We are <em>small</em>."<br><br>He reached forward, finally touching at a wayward lock of the woman's light hair, curling it briefly around a slender finger, then pushing it delicately back into place.&nbsp; His eyes focused in unison, suddenly free of distracting thoughts.&nbsp; "Soft today.&nbsp; As expected."&nbsp; The alien's head shook, and he made a jittering noise that sounded something like an embarrassed cough.&nbsp; "Apologies.&nbsp; Unimportant.&nbsp; Anyway:&nbsp; Ignorance.&nbsp; Before you remarked that we do not know the true nature of the Blight.&nbsp; Upon ruminating on this conundrum, I too confess bafflement."<br><br>Seven leaned his face a bit closer, as though to impart some grave secret that only she should hear.&nbsp; "What we chase cannot be touched if It does not want to be.&nbsp; It sunders worlds.&nbsp; Collapses civilizations.&nbsp; A Wretch playing at God because It does not believe there exists a power that could hold It in check.&nbsp; The Glorious Ultothar could surely balance the Blight Decorus, but It remains elusive.&nbsp; It toys with colonies, avoiding confrontation."&nbsp; <br><br>Then, with marked confusion, "Yet I am sent anyway.&nbsp; My attacks are but physical ones, and like yours can do nothing against the Blight.&nbsp; Why?&nbsp; What is my purpose here?&nbsp; What is our purpose, chasing a ghost without Uncrossable Streams and functional Traps?"&nbsp; A pause, as though listening.&nbsp; "A...distraction?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anakira</strong> on <strong>03-08-2010, 06:17:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"How so <em>very</em> odd, my dear." The demon sang, curling around Seren curiously. "Neither one of you remember me...and you both hate me for something you've no understanding of. Isn't...that....<em>nice.</em>" It wasn't a question. Her tone reverberated both sarcasm and curiosity wrapped into one lacy package as it drifted around him. Her form twisted about his body again until she was only really half there, her arms draped about his shoulders as if she were some scarf of ice he was wearing. <br><br>"No...no, if you knew her, you'd call her fat, too. Look at her!" Her presence slipped like a heavy weight&nbsp; from Seren to curl around the short-haired blonde, sinking her nails into her side as she pinched the girl's skin. "Plenty of it, too...How the fuck do you plan on even trying to fight when you weigh so much?!"<br><br>"Ow!! GET OFF OF ME." Heather shrieked, pawing at her body feverishly. It did no good, and only inspired the demon to grab a roll on the other side and yank. "This is embarrassing. Almost as embarrassing as your friend over there being all skin and bones. What a pathetic lot you all are!" Her form took on a more solid stance as she stood between the three standing there. She was taller than Seren, a slight bit shorter than Heather, and the form of that other one... her eyes finally settled on Marco's taller,&nbsp; "...Hello, what's this?" She mused aloud, her grin slinking back into her features. "you don't look so pathetic..."<br><br>As if to make a point of this, the woman suddenly broke into a fine, black mist and coiled&nbsp; tightly around Marco before disappearing into his nose, his mouth, any orifice that was open.<br><br>--<br><br>"We are indeed small, Seven." Kara replied at some length, her head tilted.&nbsp; The alien had great insight on...everything, really. They'd had enough late night talks for her to understand this. "I think it makes things more interesting and infinitely more frustrating but usually it's worth it. In this case, I just want to scream and cry and throw a fit sometimes. Doesn't help anything, but...such is life. You are quite lucky you've not got the room to pull such immature feats."&nbsp; Her eyes rested on him as he finally grabbed at her hair, her mouth twitching upward. "You do that a lot, Seven. Should I give you my hair the next time I cut it? I have enough to make a wig. I think it would look cute on you."<br><br>"I am unsure...I wish I knew. But it is tiring to be...strung along. So much death, so much...damned destruction. All from one being. I have made an effort to read up on what everyone knows about demons, but I haven't unearthed much. ...If the...Ultothar...if I've said that right... can stop her, why <em>hasn't</em> it, anyway? <em>That</em> makes no sense."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueShaine</strong> on <strong>03-08-2010, 06:25:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His first reaction was to panic and let out a gasp of surprise which he did. Only after did he know what was happening. It was actively looking for a way inside him, so he stopped breathing in an effort to halt whatever that woman was doing. He whipped the bone through the cloud to disperse it, but it did nothing. Worse yet, the feeling was oppresively <em>cold</em> everywhere the cloud touched. His skin through his jacket and shirt were like ice was simply sheeted about him. Well, it didn't stop him from moving, and Marco ran, hoping to draw the thing off and away from the other two.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;His thoughts raced one sentence aloud as he leapt over some torn up pavement.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; '<em>Run, you fucking idiots, run!</em>'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Shihong</strong> on <strong>03-08-2010, 06:57:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center"><span style="font-size: 24pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: impact;" class="bbc_font">SEVEN</span></span></div><div align="center">---Current Location: Kara's Quarters---</div><br>Seven seemed to be hearing Kara through a wave of white noise, ushering in countless thoughts and fastidiously picking them apart, filtering out the unimportant details until only pure, unadulterated truth remained.&nbsp; And behind it, directing and manipulating every ambient consciousness simultaneously, was a mind so vast that it could only push against the very edges of his own, lest it swallow him up utterly and leave naught but an empty shell.&nbsp; His eyes went white, blinded to the reality in front of them and seeing <em>beyond</em> it.&nbsp; Trillions of light years traveled in an instant, and before him an asteroid-pitted face that stretched on into infinite...<br><br>He snapped back with a jolt, awakening and looking back down at Kara with perfect clarity.&nbsp; "The Ultothar the Most Glorious is infallible.&nbsp; All-knowing.&nbsp; Limitless.&nbsp; But though its mind is without measure, it is housed in an imperfect form.&nbsp; Omniscient, Omnipotent, but not Omnipresent.&nbsp; For if it were to exert that power, its children would surely perish.&nbsp; The Blight's movements are not so restricted by concern for others, as it cares for nothing but its own body.&nbsp; Decorus is a Demon.&nbsp; The Ultothar is a <em>World</em>."<br><br>"Then, lacking the apathy or malignancy required to sacrifice its Children to chase the Blight itself, It searches for Another Way,"&nbsp; &nbsp;he uttered solemnly, mysteriously.<br><br>A pause.&nbsp; "I prefer Kara's hair as it is.&nbsp; The length is suitable, and aesthetically pleasing."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saragato</strong> on <strong>03-08-2010, 07:08:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"What the--"<br><br>Watching her break from taunting them and towards Marco had been like watching the world go frame by frame with each staying still for long enough to have you itching to find the remote and fast forward just a bit. She had simply forced her way into him via any hole there could be on his body, invading him like the virus she was before he began running, screaming they do the same. What was he going to do, hope he could carry her far away from them and battle her himself? Surely he wouldn't be a fool and try suicide hoping she died within him. Any move would be one of a martyr and for what seemed hours Seren stood still, watching the stranger he only knew the name of flee with the demon literally inside him for God only knew what reason.<br><br>He looked to Heather, eyes silently roaming her form and seeing red marks where the shirt had bunched up and her waist when Decorus had pinched and tugged at the softer areas that would give with any force. She wasn't bleeding, she wasn't broken anywhere. Even he was physically unharmed, just shooken up. It would only be fair if Marco could come away unscathed physically too, right? It was apparent it was because of them he was in his predicament to begin with and he didn't feel right just letting him run off to die or get raped with some strange impromptu sex toy from whatever that creature found lying around if she didn't just go at him from his urethra. But what could they do?<br><br>"We have to follow him, he can't be left alone with her." Well duh. "Just... grab something sharp or heavy and c'mon! We'll beat it out of him if we have to."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anakira</strong> on <strong>03-08-2010, 08:47:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Laughter. Horribly feminine, twisted, laughter resounded in Marco's mind, it's sultry tone mocking, victorious. <em>"Quite roomy up here. You didn't learn much in school, did you?"</em> It called to him. A chill ran over his shoulders, down his arms, down his back before pulling back abruptly, sliding elsewhere along his body. This chill wasn't just a localized cry of cold, there was something else about it, something...tangible, solid.&nbsp; Something that caused a secondary freeze deeper down in Marco's very soul.&nbsp; <em>"Maybe you should stop running, dear, I don't know what you're trying to accomplish. I haven't really hurt any of you yet. In fact, I could do quite the opposite, if you'll just let me. Too bad you all are far too afraid of me...</em> The chill snaked down the man's stomach, barely, <em>just</em> barely avoiding the sensitive area between his legs as it traveled down, seeing fit to rest its 'touch' on his rear. That chilling giggle resounded again through his mind...<br><br>"No, not at all...What the <em>fuck.</em> ....I'm not fat! I'm <em>big boned!!</em> For reals!" With a huff and a newfound resolve, Heather gripped Seren's hand rather tightly and the conductor's baton in the other and began to run after Marco. There was no way she was going to let this...this...God, what <em>was</em> she!? ...Take over and use her new friend for any reason. Still, there was a part of her mind screaming 'suicide', a large part of her very being that wanted to take Marco's advice to heart and make a sharp U-Turn away from this whole situation. But really, what good would that do? A few more hours, maybe, of living life as a refugee? As a runaway prisoner from fate? And then what? Was she going to torment them before killing them slowly? Ripping their limbs off? Making them watch each other's...No. No. <em>No.</em> No more thoughts, no more sickening thoughts on this! Eyes on the prize, heart on victory, right?<br><br>Too bad her legs were burning already. Band camp was <em>nothing</em> on this.<br>---<br><br>"...Seven?" The woman moved to a kneeling position, her eyebrows coming together slightly in confusion. The moment passed quickly, though, and her head tilted as her alien friend's personality returned with haste. Kara blinked several times in rapid succession, her hand resting on his...well, what served as his shoulder for now. Realization about her new position washed over her and suddenly it seemed rather...unacceptable to be touching him. More of it lied in the awkwardness of the situation, those few moments of uncertainty that unnerved the Vice-captain. Still...everything seemed normal now, right...?<br><br>"I see. It is truly a benevolent being. ...I wonder...if maybe one day I'd be able to see it?" She hadn't ever really been to Seven's homeworld. He had just appeared one day, and at this point in time she really was unsure. It had been during one of the few periods of time Kara took to sleep, so she had missed his entrance altogether.<br><br>"Oh? Do you? I've always thought it was a bit long, I suppose. I've been toying with the idea of cutting it as of late. You really think I should keep it long?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueShaine</strong> on <strong>03-08-2010, 08:59:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;"Hey, lay off! National education's sort of a shit deal here anyway, so don't blame me for a lack of trying!" He muttered as he stood abruptly still.&nbsp; Her touching was going places most decent folk never considered on first encounters. He was conflicted on how to feel on that, apart from the usual biological reaction. He tried humor to ease the sick feeling in his gut. "What is it, hottie? You too busy enjoying the lay of the land - something about my 'assets' that's got you going? And if you even knew what we consider 'normal' on this place before it looked like this then you'd know why we're fucked up about meeting you. This is definitely a 'bad-touch' moment."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Shihong</strong> on <strong>03-08-2010, 09:25:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center"><span style="font-size: 24pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: impact;" class="bbc_font">SEVEN</span></span></div><div align="center">---Current Location: Kara's Quarters---</div><br>Another pause.&nbsp; Listening.&nbsp; <em>Hearing.</em> "Few civilized species have ever made direct visual contact with The Most Glorious One.&nbsp; My kin remain in Unoccupied Space whenever we are able, consuming material that will not be missed.&nbsp; Cultivating.&nbsp; Replicating.&nbsp; Populating.&nbsp; Expanding.&nbsp; We are considered an anomaly among terrestrial races, who will never know the comfort of a Parent's eternal heartbeat resounding within them, or the joy of a Chorus without Beginning or End.&nbsp; They do not understand.&nbsp; They fear.&nbsp; They fear that our God is one of hatefulness and gluttony.&nbsp; They know they could not stop us if this were so, and so they allow us to live on in isolation.&nbsp; We are content."<br><br>Apparently emboldened by Kara's lack of visible disgust at his touch, Seven began idly feeling at her hair again, allowing it to slip gracefully between his fingers.&nbsp; "There is a word in your language that was difficult for me to understand.&nbsp; For <em>Us</em> to understand.&nbsp; That word is...Alone.&nbsp; People--individuals--feel Fear when they believe themselves to be alone.&nbsp; But until we discovered other species, it was a concept alien to us.&nbsp; We feel no Fear.&nbsp; No sense of solitude.&nbsp; This estranges us all the more."<br><br>"I am the first to make physical contact with a sentient alien race.&nbsp; Though it is not the purpose of my mission, I am honored to have been given this opportunity.&nbsp; And, should a day come where we our brought near to my God again, I think you would be allowed to bask in its magnificence."<br><br>Seven's head craned to one side, bobbing rhythmically like a cork in a glass of water.&nbsp; "Though, not in the Castiel.&nbsp; A ship of our own.&nbsp; Once trapped in the gravitational field of the Most Glorious Ultothar, it would be incapable of exiting under its own power.&nbsp; It is of a scale previously undreamed of by your people.&nbsp; If it would please you, you may yet see it with your own eyes."<br><br>A gurgling sound welled up from his throat.&nbsp; Or perhaps a warble.&nbsp; A laugh?&nbsp; It was difficult to tell.&nbsp; "Hair is unique.&nbsp; It is something strange and...beautiful.&nbsp; Lustrous, when maintained as diligently as your own.&nbsp; It should be preserved.&nbsp; Grown.&nbsp; Is it not used to attract mates?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anakira</strong> on <strong>03-08-2010, 09:27:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"Ooouh, aren't you rather...</em>cocky?" There was another giggle that followed, that icy feeling...caressing? his behind. <em>"You like how I touch you, too. Most people wouldn't have stopped running, you know...why did you? I could...reward that more rare option, you know."</em> Something in his very mind seemed to shift, like it was pulling apart somewhere at a seam deep down beneath in his consciousness. <em>"What do you think, darling?"</em><br><br>--<br><br>"Alone...Fear...Yes, it is...Something rather alien in and of itself, really. I envy that you never will truly understand those emotions, those...feelings, I guess. I don't know, I've known solitude since I was very small. But that feeling of being accepted and loved by everyone you know, I know that, too. Nnnn...Not on the same level as you, of course!" With a weak smile, she began to take a long lock of her own hair and caress it idly. "...But it's a peaceful thing all the same, you know." <br><br>A slight blush, a hint of pink tinged Kara's normally pale cheeks, her smile twitching upward, tighter across her face. "You know, that means a lot to me, and I'm unsure I know why, Seven. I can hardly even imagine what the uh...Ultothar is like. ...Big, I guess. Really big." Her own head tipped to a side as she contemplated this mental image in her mind for a moment before shrugging. "Nope. Nothing. It'll most certainly be something I need to see for myself. I really look forward to it, though! Maybe someday soon, when we've dispersed of this whole...Blight mess, yes? I would love to see where you're from."<br><br>A thoughtful noise hummed from Kara's own throat and she tugged at her hair a little in thought. "I suppose. It's like having plumage on a bird, or something. I like it, but there are many ways to keep hair. I grow sort of...bored keeping it this way. Not much I can do with it like this except pile it onto my head before fighting. Surely you saw some of the other types of styles girls keep their hair? The possibilities are pretty much endless!"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Shihong</strong> on <strong>03-08-2010, 10:48:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center"><span style="font-size: 24pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: impact;" class="bbc_font">SEVEN</span></span></div><div align="center">---Current Location: Kara's Quarters---</div><br>Seven warbled--bleated, whatever you'd call that funny little noise--again at Kara's quizzical contemplation of its God.&nbsp; "Mmn.&nbsp; Yes.&nbsp; <em>Big.</em>&nbsp; I don't blame the...inadequate word choice on your personal vocabulary, Kara.&nbsp; I doubt that there exists a word that can be expressed with a mammalian tongue that comes close to describing Its size.&nbsp; I have been told that terrestrial species often feel something called <em>vertigo</em> when thinking of such a vast difference in scale, such as the Elder Stars of this Universe.&nbsp; It is much the same dilemma."<br><br>On the subject of hair, he seemed slightly more ponderous.&nbsp; "Bird.&nbsp; <em>Avian</em>.&nbsp; Yes.&nbsp; Strange.&nbsp; Evolutionary traits to attract for the purposes of <em>reproduction</em>, rather than <em>consumption</em>.&nbsp; Peculiar, but remarkable."&nbsp; He carefully took two big clumps of Kara's hair in his hands, weighing them up and down and shifting them around the top of her head.&nbsp; "Endless possibilities.&nbsp; Limitless potential.&nbsp; Customization.&nbsp; Individual expression on a physiological scale.&nbsp; Will the wonders never cease?!"<br><br>A thought seemed to come to mind, because he hastily smoothed her hair back down again with some gentle patting before twisting backwards to obscure his head from view.&nbsp; His body made several odd squelching noises as he seemed to work at the muscled coils of his back, and when he straightened up again he had somehow managed to shift a rather ample wad of them onto the crown of his chitinous skull.<br><br>"Endless possibilities!"<br><br>Seven clumped the red tissue together and began molding at it like clay, twisting the gelatinous mass into coils and bobs and spikes until it looked like the sort of hairstyle one might find in a particularly atrocious rock 'n roll movie--albeit made out of rubbery meat.<br><br>His clicking did nothing to hide his disappointment as several eyes focused on the mirror over the sink.&nbsp; "Mmmn.&nbsp; You are so fortunate, Kara.&nbsp; Hair is a pleasant thing to have."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anakira</strong> on <strong>03-08-2010, 11:20:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"...Wow. I guess...Colossal would about do it. Or... Colossal. Ah, I'll get to see it, won't I? Then I'll probably swoon or faint or whatever my tiny little brain decides to do in a rebuttal." Left to her own devices, Kara probably would have continued to ponder the exact scale of this creature. However, the unnerving shucking noises were beginning to pique her interest, and with great effort attempted to&nbsp; see exactly what the rubbery alien was doing.<br><br>The woman could not help but giggle profoundly at Seven's shenanigans. "That is adorable!! That's it! When I cut my hair, I'm totally donating it to you. I'm sure you'd find something to do with it, after all. But keep it a surprise, maybe you'll finally make Ettie crap his pants." She lifted a hand to her mouth as she giggled, though, after a brief second, it fell as did her eyes as she studied her fingers as if something strange were on them. She was <em>laughing.</em> Smiling. Her mood was sort of uplifted and she felt absolutely at peace, though the warm feeling was beginning to wane now that she was thinking about it. Her smile faded and suddenly the weight of the world seemed to bear down on her heavily, moreso than before. But it was a different kind of weight, one that tugged her eyelids and made her body heavy instead of her mind, her chest.<br><br>"...Seven...I think I need to lay down for a little while. This is the worst time to feel fatigued, but maybe it means I'll sleep tonight. We've still got time before we get into Earth's orbit, so I'm going to try to nap. Wake me up when we break the atmosphere, will you? And tell Ettie I'm fine. He's likely worried sick, even if he didn't come in with me. Tell him I disregarded my food allergies, as per usual. He'll understand." With a sigh, she shook her heavy hair from her scalp using her nails, stood, and padded over to her bed.<br><br>"...And Seven? One more thing...a dire favor, if you don't mind... Can you...continue preceding my name with 'human' as you do...others? You don't need to do so while we're alone, but...You know. Suspicion. I can't have anyone else knowing, not yet." It was something she asked often of the creature, as if either she had forgotten to every time they had a talk or as if he would have forgotten. She was tired, exhausted even, and was usually so every time they spoke together.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueShaine</strong> on <strong>04-08-2010, 05:10:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp; &nbsp; He didn't physically feel any different, but his confidence in balance was begging to come into question. Marco wobbled and wound up crouching down to a knee. His eyes told him nothing was wrong, but his mind was finally getting fatigued from the voice that resounded as if on top of his grey matter. He wondered if his voice would still work the same.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; "What did you do? Nnno, no never mind. Far be it from me to ask the reaper what they've done. Look, why were we left alive -did you fuck up or something? Want to reward me? What do you have in mind? I'd prefer if you're going to do anything to my insides to at least let me look at you outside my head. You're soft on the eyes."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saragato</strong> on <strong>11-08-2010, 13:05:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Despite running as fast as they could, which to say was pretty much the equivalent of a light jog what with the combination of hopping over dead bodies and fatigue that was easily eating away at them after their bodies were realizing food and water were not things they might ever see again and they'd been out for more than a healthy span of time, Seren could only see the silhouette of their new companion and now sole sufferer of the creature with the face of someone who could've made a <em>killing</em> in the adult film industry. Quite literally, he supposed.<br><br>Wracking his brain for ideas was causing a headache at the base of his skull that thrummed the nerves attaching his brain to his spinal cord like a guitar but instead of notes or even vibration he felt pain run up them and cause something similar in his brain. Seeing as the human brain itself could feel no pain, this was quite a feat and more than once he tripped and ended up with a knee in a ribcage or shattering the pelvis of what he supposed had at one point been a little girl, if the pink scraps of cloth attached to the dusty skeletal frame were any indication. Would he ever get used to this sight as long as they survived, looking down and seeing an open catacomb beneath him? Surely even the ones that were, or perhaps now the term 'had been' was more suitable, in Paris were not this bad even if they were underground and in near sewage. At least there you had the option of physically seeing the death and decay of strangers. There was no option here even though they were blessed with only having bones to look at. He might've retched sooner had there been any organs to ogle.<br><br>Putting that aside, he had no idea what they could do. They didn't have any holy water and he wasn't sure it would work, considering he wasn't exactly religious, knew Heather wasn't, and Marco's divine morals were still up in the air. And it wasn't like getting a Q-tip to dig in his ear would pull her out like ungodly wax, either. She was <em>inside</em> him doing God-knew-what and he had run off with this bitch in him, only now he could see he'd stopped, his lips moving as he spoke mostly likely to her, body squirming in response to whatever she was doing. He had a good guess.<br><br><em>What do we do? What do we do? Whatdowedowhatdowedowhatdowedo?!<br><br>Well, bitches do love when you <strong>scream their name.</strong></em><br><br>"DECORUS!!!!"<br><br>His entire body shuddered from the effort, lungs tightening and shortening his breath in recognition of the power behind the name he'd yelled at the top of his lungs. Was that her name? It sounded familiar, felt familiar, and the taste of its pronunciation was similar to licking salt off a rusted pipe in sweltering heat. Without his knowing he'd halted, his grip on Heather's hand near bone-shattering if he had that sort of physical strength within him. Luckily for her, he didn't.<br><br>"Get out of him right now you crusty old hag from the tenth circle of Hell! You don't belong here, agent of chaos! <strong>Get the fuck off my planet before I shove the business end of my $10 sneaker up your pear-shaped ass and kick you into orbit.</strong>"<br><br>Waiter? Check, please.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anakira</strong> on <strong>12-08-2010, 00:58:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Too much. It was just too <em>much.</em> Her legs were moving but she couldn't feel them. There had come a point where she stopped feeling the pain, the burning, tightening sensation that was forcing her muscles into the same actions rigor mortis brought along at death. So...did that mean she literally felt like death?<br><br>Whatever the case was, Heather just wanted to <em>die.</em> Her chest burned, her throat burned, her sinuses were starting to decide they didn't want to work-- also, they burned; her stomach was turning, her knees were sore...wait, she'd stopped running? When had she stopped running? ....Her legs were Jell-O. The cheap kind, too, the kind that melted after two days in the refrigerator.<br><br>Why? Why was she thinking about food at a time like <em>this?!</em> She was about to actually die, not just the superficial feeling that came with real physical exercise. Her friends were about to die, and she was <em>thinking about fucking <strong>food.</strong></em> Way to go. Her last thoughts would be about something so basal and insignifica-- What was <em>that?</em><br><br>The blonde's head snapped up to the sound of Seren's voice. Well, that...was his voice, right? It had <em>come</em> from Seren, but that really wasn't him at all. Decorus? Was that demon right? Had they met before? The brief respite led the girl to want to sink to her knees, but after having been drug behind her best friend the whole time, being brought down when he tripped and fell, being drug behind him at his own adrenaline-fueled high, it was starting to come to mind exactly how bad off both of them were. Her pristine uniform slacks were dirty and threatening to tear in certain places, but for the most part,&nbsp; they had protected her from the bones and sharp edges she had been grinding against every time her knees hit the ground. Her knee, however, was aching horribly, as was her ankle on the other leg. Her knee had twisted and she didn't even know? Her ankle, as well. That was going to swell.<br><br>And as much as she wanted to speak, she just couldn't. Her heart pounded in her throat, her chest, beat against her ribs, threatened to break them to escape from the miserable body that housed it. And worst of all, her throat was so dry it almost felt like it was literally cracking.<br><br><br><em>"Really, dear? I'm <strong>so flattered.</strong>"</em> Though inside of him, Marco could <em>feel</em> the woman's smirk pulling across his conscious before the shudder climbed up from its resting point between his legs, up his stomach, and around his shoulders. And then, all at once, the show given to Heather and Seren would have been quite a spectacle: Black mist swirled from out of the man's mouth, coiling around him before the woman grabbed a tight hold around his neck. Her whole form draped on his body, her head just resting in the crook of his shoulder and neck. One arm slipped to grab round his waist, nails feeling for the bottom of his shirt before slipping under, feeling the muscle underneath.<br><br>"You work out? You're in <em>much</em> better shape than those two losers. I should let you live...I do always appreciate a man who takes care of his body.... Do you hear something?" &nbsp;For the moment the modelesque demoness had decided to ignore both his question and Seren's threat. Her attention seemed quite more firmly settled on things more of the erotic nature. "Mmmm...Don't you see what I see...? You guys are so fun...I have the most luscious body to do with as I please, here..." A couple of her fingers began to push down the waistband of his jeans, "I have entertainment from the loud one back there...he's fiery himself...I wonder how long it would take to break him?" Her nail scraped gently along the definition of muscle at Marco's hip. "And as for the fat one...I'm not sure exactly what to do with her...maybe if I starved her for a little while, I could bring her down to a size much more fitting for a pretty doll. See?&nbsp; Not random at all, darling."<br><br>"...We can still hear you, <em>bitch!</em>" Heather had found her voice long enough to retort. being called fat had long ago stopped hurting her, but the way this infernal being went on and on about how she was going to fix her up, how she had plans for each of them...it didn't hurt. It was...infuriating. But what could she do?!&nbsp; The ache in her body was beginning to wane, at least. The wonders of adrenaline.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlueShaine</strong> on <strong>12-08-2010, 02:23:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp; &nbsp;To be caressed so <em>posessively</em> was at once both thrilling and terrifying. There did exude a sense of sex from him that was telling him to relish this on a genetic level. The conflict of how he felt about this place, this time, the company...the immorality over it. These were repulsing him to the suggestion. "Uhh! Hey, hey! Can't wait for the third date - i-isn't there a rule about that?"<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;But she wasn't suggesting at all. she alluded with words that told Marco it was not his choice, nor would it ever be. Her name was alien to him and it was pretty. It was decadent, the way her fingernails bit into his flesh and his nerve endings went wild. Muscles twitched as he struggled without understanding. Well, he <em>did</em> understand in one manner, but it wasn't what he was expecting or hoping for.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;His voice had cracked when he spoke. It was the surprise of the speed of her removing of his clothes. Then there was the voices of the two others from Earth that were yelling like monkeys at them.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Shame made his cheeks grow warm. He wasn't really helping matters, feeling like he was getting off and also the failure to actually drive her away from them. Poor kids. That's what they were to him, too. He was older than them both by a couple of years, though he didn't know exactly how many. There wasn't any time to ask. Now he was showing them more of him than he'd cared to until unless they'd have found shelter to bathe in this wasteland.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; His hands did try to grasp at her arms to stop their movements, but he wasn't having much luck stopping the motions. "Whatever you two were thinking of doing to help me I hope you come up with something quick." He called out.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Shihong</strong> on <strong>18-08-2010, 21:54:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center"><span style="font-size: 24pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: impact;" class="bbc_font">SEVEN</span></span></div><div align="center">---Current Location: Kara's Quarters---</div><br>Seven made a show of forcing all the excess muscle mass from his skull, preening like some great gelatinous cat until everything had been smoothed back into place.&nbsp; It was difficult to tell if he was actually messing around for comedy's sake or if he had been completely serious; then again, it was a rare occasion indeed that he didn't confuse everyone with his intentions.<br><br>"I would graciously accept any gift of trimmed follicles from you, Ka-...Human Kara.&nbsp; They would be put to excellent use, I assure you."<br><br>He had followed silently after her, resting one hand delicately on her shoulder and guiding her reassuringly down under the covers of the bed, promptly pulling them up to her neck and affectionately tucking in the sides like a doting parent.&nbsp; "You will need much rest for the perils to come, and I will not tarry a moment longer than is necessary.&nbsp; May your nightly phantasms be pleasant ones, or lead you gently into quiet oblivion."<br><br>And he was gone, his hulking form vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.&nbsp; The door slid shut and locked automatically, the overhead lamps dimming into a peaceful twilight.&nbsp; <br><br>And in almost no time at all he was present once again at the Bridge, slipping in behind <strong>"Ettie"</strong> and clearing what passed for his throat as loudly and abruptly as he could possibly manage.&nbsp; If Seven actually went out of his way to startle people, he certainly wasn't about to admit it.<br><br>"Human Etienne.&nbsp; Human Kara has been returned to her quarters and is resting peacefully.&nbsp; Food Allergies.&nbsp; In the interest of keeping her heart rate at acceptable levels, I suggest <em>you</em> alert her upon our arrival into Earth's orbit.&nbsp; My face is not one that promotes healthy waking procedures."<br><br>He stalked his way to the front of the Bridge, pressing his face as near to the windows as the safety seals would allow.&nbsp; Though distracted by the view, he managed to pry one or two eyes away to focus back on his disgruntled companion.&nbsp; "Human Etienne.&nbsp; What are your feelings on this new development?&nbsp; Not presumptions.&nbsp; Not sarcastic or embittered predictions.&nbsp; What does your instinct say?&nbsp; That primal well throbbing within you.&nbsp; This is different, yes?&nbsp; It feels...Off."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Connection</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Travaius</strong> on <strong>19-08-2010, 22:55:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Etienne jumped when something behind him made a noise. He had tried to get used to Seven’s abilities, but the creature still managed to scare him every now and then. Cursing under his breath, he turned around to look at him, thinking that if he accidentally shot him one time it wouldn’t be a bad thing. <br><br>The realization that Seven had been with Kara only came after he mentioned that Kara’s food allergy was acting up. Normally she was very careful, and Etienne got the feeling that there was something more to it, but he didn’t want to say anything, especially not to Seven.&nbsp; Nodding and waving his hand, he looked at Seven as he went to the window.<br><br>“I will tell her when we get there. Maybe she will feel better by then, at least I hope so. I don’t like it when she is sick, but only time will tell.”<br><br>Spinning away from the alien, he turned back to the controls, watching them carefully. As Seven started to speak again, he was about to turn around and insult him, but heard what he was saying. He wanted an honest assessment of the situation and Etienne could at least give him that much. Turning to face him, he shrugged his shoulders.<br><br>“This makes no sense. When I left that planet, there was no life left, no way for anyone to be able to survive for a week, let alone months. The best I can hope for is that it’s a trap, but Decorus doesn’t need to do this to get her fun out of us. She would just destroy a planet and have a friend or family member of ours appear there. But if it’s not a trap, then this is something that doesn’t make sense, an anomaly in Decorus’s powers or behavior. Either way, we need to see. But you are right, there is something off about it.”
			</dd>
		</dl>
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