05-20-2015, 01:18 PM
A maze of alleyways beckoned; with their rank noxious smells and individuals that huddled around fires - close to one another - eager for the next hit of whatever the popular drug was. These were the outcasts of the outcasts, and Sarah with Kiln close beside her, passed them right-on-by once more. Those that made their homes in the backstreets that interconnected the sections of Tier 6 had next to nothing. They weren't the ones attending the clubs (like the merciful knight); they weren't the ones buying from street vendors and enjoying the piss-poor carnival food. Instead, they scavenged for what they could find. Sometimes that meant taking from those weaker so that they would survive: a cutthroat living full of back stabbers and former friends.
The Primes kept their pace swift, never lingering in one spot for more than a moment or two before turning down one walkway or another. Sarah led as best as she could given the circumstances. She peered from one set of shadows to the next, constantly searching for threats she knew to be there - just wanting them to take the wrong path, or lower their guard. However, she wouldn't give them the satisfaction. Her mind wandered and slipped between the veils that connected them all. Listening to their thoughts she focused for a brief instance, read a person, then moved to the next, making sure she didn't step close enough for a dagger that stabbed to reach either herself, or her Companion.
Eventually, the end of the Labyrinth drew nigh, and the Street of Merchants came into view once more. Stalls were still lined up; shops were open and crowds gathered into rows upon rows, eating, loitering, and dancing to terribly bad music. They were ever so loud. Louder still were the shouts of peddlers peddling products, oblivious to the dangers that lurked around every corner. Persons of all sorts dressed in fashions that barely consisted of proper clothing, and some that were on power-trips, tried to sneak weapons in everywhere; they were disarmed, stripped and shown the door. Lastly far further-beyond down 'pleasant' street, neon lights polluted.
The Merciful Knight gleamed with its proud display of medieval armor, and nearly eclipsed the smaller venues that flickered; flashing signs with their names: 'Dan's Pub,' the plainest, 'Bimbos, and Escorts' the most blatant, and 'Casino' the most original of them all. Their haze clouded the entire skyline and went for kilometers along 'Entertainment Way.' Without order, the lawless were free to roam, and the fun never ended. However, there were armed thugs aplenty (bouncers), and bodyguards swarming around 'V.I.P.S.' No safety here.
"Well, this won't be easy." Sarah muttered. She slowed, stopping on one walkway. Leaning against a building, she held a stiff-arm out to stop Kiln from wandering off. He ran right into it, grunting painfully as he stumbled to catch his next step. Thereafter, he stared from her, then to all the gathered and the hustle of an underground city, and finally held his ground. Sarah caught him glancing at the Device on his arm (his connection to the verse wide web), but said nothing. "I don't exactly fit in. He'd be alright, a freak for the boys to play with: a distraction. I am Ghost though. . . I could cloak." She ran a hand down her arm, thinking about how to proceed.
Kiln hadn't a clue what she mumbled about. The thoughts in her head were becoming simply too confusing. He zoned out for seconds at a time, only half listening to them while gazing at all the activity that never seemed to die down. People departed, more people came and replaced them. Hordes and droves were let inside, vanishing for long periods of time, only to be sandwiched, crammed clogged together, as others were admitted. He glanced down at the piece of Tech once more, and with a few presses, he had it on again. Cautiously, he faced the Girl, but saw she had her eyes closed and her head titled back, as though she needed a rest. He assumed incorrectly, but it amounted to the same result: he could play around with his toy. His pupils dilated and he rapidly slammed the interface, trying to get prompts, logs of texts and all sorts of images to appear like before.
If I amplify the suit with my own energy, I should be able to maintain a cloaking field, regardless of the actual damage sustained to the module. In theory, the Teenager thought, it could work - even without proper repairs to the inner workings of the Hostile Environment Suit. After all, its outermost layer was designed with synthetic cells that react to psionic stimulus. They would take in psionic reverberations and refract any light source, essentially rendering her invisible to the naked eye. The only difference in this instance, she would have to rely on her own stamina to remain unseen, and not some external energy source.
She tapped that well. Her entire body glowed, then shimmered, thereafter blurred, and finally it faded while the Boy tapped and pressed on that thing on his arm. He missed when she vanished. So, when he finally returned from the exploration, he could only observe nothing where Sarah had been. In short, he panicked. Perhaps she had merely went on ahead, but as he searched the mobs, he could not find any trace of her. And although she could be fast when she desired, she wasn't 'this' fast. He stepped back retracing his way to the alley whence they came; heading down a few meters, he determined the same, and took up his dutiful post at the corner where they had rest - almost certain that she would come back for him. Faithful 'till the end.
Minutes passed before Kiln felt a hand on his shoulder. His own went for the blade, however tugged as he did at the sword in the sheath, it wouldn't budge; some force held it in check. He opted for the shield (slipping it against the opposite arm), but as he swung back spinning like a top in defense, he only struck the wall. Sparks flew; inertia kept going as he continued to go round and round. The pressure on his sword rescinded, so he donned that as well. The metal shone briefly. It rotated as well, seeking out anything that could not be seen. Meanwhile, a few onlookers stared at the behavior and quickly shuffled forward, backwards, sideways and away from the commotion. Yet, they never stopped watching.
With a sudden push, swirls of violet appeared out of thin air. The cloaking field flickered and revealed the Girl while she shoved (albeit slightly more gentle than she normally would) the Boy against the nearest structure. With a momentary impact she let him fall. He slumped. "Sorry, boy. Easiest way to explain to someone like you is to show you." Shutting her eyes, she honed in and the field reestablished. She stepped twice and knelt down before uncloaking. "You see me, then you don't. But," she pointed with a finger to the crowd, "They watch you. Not me. Understand?" She doubted he did to the fullest extent. All eyes were on him. "I'm a Ghost."
He glanced from Sarah, then unto the crowd and back. He could only stare - still obviously at a loss - but, he nodded. Slowly, he rose and continued looking at her. He was expecting her to disappear again. When she didn't, he grasped that she wouldn't anymore here. Reaching for his sword, he slung it back in its slot and walked in toe with his shield still strapped. Wherever they were going was likely to be dangerous. He knew that. Didn't understand how he knew, but he did: a vibe of sorts. The way she violently tried to teach only exemplified that fact. So, he followed adapting to the droves of people, blending in as they proceeded down the street.
The Backstreets were less packed. In fact, no one in the immediate vicinity. Perhaps they dare not tread this far into the property of a local club on principal, or maybe they had been given a reason not to. Either way, real danger existed now. Thugs were the least of the pair of Primes' worries. Instead, they whom would stop them, would be better armed, and certainly more skilled in combat. That's why a more finesse method was necessary. With that in mind, Sarah halted them both, holding out an arm which Kiln in turn, ran right-on-into. He grunted quietly. She held a finger up to her mouth and her thoughts probed his mind.
"Stay," she began. "You have to stay, here. Just for a bit okay?" He looked confused as she began to walk away. He still fell in line with her. Turning back abruptly, power flared in her eyes for a moment; particles erupted rapidly in burst of violet, purple and red and yet again he levitated through the air. Although, this time she stayed mild with him. A caress almost, that drifted him back to his previous position. This process repeated as he advanced once more. "No, wait here. I'll come back." After the second time he attempted nothing further. That much she could read amongst his sporadic brain patterns. So, she went off scouting, disappearing entirely from his gaze after drifting a few meters.
On her way, the Teenager darted beyond the bend but continued forward, checking all angles with a sweep of her head. Four. She counted, internally hoping that they had no way of detecting a cloaked Ghost. Even now she could feel the strain the feat put on herself, but it needed to work. Two at the entrance. Continuing to move she passed that. Two Patrolling. One guard slipped on continuing down an alleyway. She followed, treading near and readying herself for the strike. But, a pang reverberated into her head. It thumped and hurt; she almost cried out a hand clinging to the side of it. Falling against a dumpster she caught herself and quickly leaned for support. The guard went-on-by. As he passed her invisibility wavered. Thankfully though, he didn't face 'about. Instead, a deep-tremoring voice stormed the folds of her brain.
My Daughter, your Swarm needs guidance.
Kerrigan, greatest of creation's children,
Arise, arise again; serve as an Agent of change:
A bringer of order, stability and evolution.
Images flashed in her mind. Grotesque things from nightmares, breeding expanding and adapting. Creatures that were connected to her, somehow. The dumpster smelt terrible, but she couldn't move. Its stench clogged her nostrils; she gagged choking on it, and thrashed against the Voice. "I will not join - you - whatever you are. I serve none like you." Sarah couldn't be sure if she spoke aloud or not. If she did, it couldn't have been anything more than a whisper, because that was how she felt in comparison to the intruder in her mind's realm. With a faltering disposition she sealed herself off, cornering the invasive force and dispersing it around the fibers of her Environmental Suit. She blinked out of sight. Standing wearily (her legs felt like jelly) she trudged, dragging a palm along a wall to steady herself out of the alleyway.
The same as my dream. Its voice: real. Why can't I remember? This never happened before. The last fearful thoughts before action. The Patroller continued on by her. She heard him make a comm's check; the last one he would ever have. She crept up behind him; slipped an arm around his neck - providing leverage with the opposite - and twisted. His neck snapped, broken and she lowered him to the ground: dead. She couldn't chance him waking up. Sweat engulfed her temples, trailing on her cheeks and stinging her eyes. Her entire body heated up like a furnace as she exited the alley and made for the Complex's hidden entrance.
Three together. The other returned from a patrol. Take the nearest out. Disarm, use one as a shield. Approaching, she advanced in directly. Acting in a quick array of motions, she kicked a knee and it buckled. The Goon jerked aiming the rifle. Sweeping her arm across she knocked it from his hands, and thereafter sent a palm up into his nose, breaking it upon impact. Blood splattered he gagged and covered his face. She spun out, alternating her footing as the gunfire began. The bullets pelted as she held him in place from behind. One fired and the other shouted into his communicator.
"There's trouble need more guys out here!"
That's right, open doors for ladies. Sarah smirked and threw her captive forward - adding just a bit of an additional push with psionic force. Swirls of blue and violet emitted from her pupils, as the telekinetic force slammed into the paired dumbfounded guardians. They hit into each other and stumbled, losing their footing. Right before Sarah could finish them off, Kiln appeared running at all speeds, apparently forgetting his 'orders' to stay behind. Although not the brightest, his technique with the blade was deadly. He slashed horizontally across, vertically up and diagonally down, carving the lot up like thanksgiving turkey. By the time the hatched pavement parted, providing access to the underground pathway, their blood had pooled: three bodies to rot and none present cared.
"Next time, try listening. They would have been dealt with. There's a couple more on the way. Come on, Kiln, let's get inside!"
The Primes kept their pace swift, never lingering in one spot for more than a moment or two before turning down one walkway or another. Sarah led as best as she could given the circumstances. She peered from one set of shadows to the next, constantly searching for threats she knew to be there - just wanting them to take the wrong path, or lower their guard. However, she wouldn't give them the satisfaction. Her mind wandered and slipped between the veils that connected them all. Listening to their thoughts she focused for a brief instance, read a person, then moved to the next, making sure she didn't step close enough for a dagger that stabbed to reach either herself, or her Companion.
Eventually, the end of the Labyrinth drew nigh, and the Street of Merchants came into view once more. Stalls were still lined up; shops were open and crowds gathered into rows upon rows, eating, loitering, and dancing to terribly bad music. They were ever so loud. Louder still were the shouts of peddlers peddling products, oblivious to the dangers that lurked around every corner. Persons of all sorts dressed in fashions that barely consisted of proper clothing, and some that were on power-trips, tried to sneak weapons in everywhere; they were disarmed, stripped and shown the door. Lastly far further-beyond down 'pleasant' street, neon lights polluted.
The Merciful Knight gleamed with its proud display of medieval armor, and nearly eclipsed the smaller venues that flickered; flashing signs with their names: 'Dan's Pub,' the plainest, 'Bimbos, and Escorts' the most blatant, and 'Casino' the most original of them all. Their haze clouded the entire skyline and went for kilometers along 'Entertainment Way.' Without order, the lawless were free to roam, and the fun never ended. However, there were armed thugs aplenty (bouncers), and bodyguards swarming around 'V.I.P.S.' No safety here.
"Well, this won't be easy." Sarah muttered. She slowed, stopping on one walkway. Leaning against a building, she held a stiff-arm out to stop Kiln from wandering off. He ran right into it, grunting painfully as he stumbled to catch his next step. Thereafter, he stared from her, then to all the gathered and the hustle of an underground city, and finally held his ground. Sarah caught him glancing at the Device on his arm (his connection to the verse wide web), but said nothing. "I don't exactly fit in. He'd be alright, a freak for the boys to play with: a distraction. I am Ghost though. . . I could cloak." She ran a hand down her arm, thinking about how to proceed.
Kiln hadn't a clue what she mumbled about. The thoughts in her head were becoming simply too confusing. He zoned out for seconds at a time, only half listening to them while gazing at all the activity that never seemed to die down. People departed, more people came and replaced them. Hordes and droves were let inside, vanishing for long periods of time, only to be sandwiched, crammed clogged together, as others were admitted. He glanced down at the piece of Tech once more, and with a few presses, he had it on again. Cautiously, he faced the Girl, but saw she had her eyes closed and her head titled back, as though she needed a rest. He assumed incorrectly, but it amounted to the same result: he could play around with his toy. His pupils dilated and he rapidly slammed the interface, trying to get prompts, logs of texts and all sorts of images to appear like before.
If I amplify the suit with my own energy, I should be able to maintain a cloaking field, regardless of the actual damage sustained to the module. In theory, the Teenager thought, it could work - even without proper repairs to the inner workings of the Hostile Environment Suit. After all, its outermost layer was designed with synthetic cells that react to psionic stimulus. They would take in psionic reverberations and refract any light source, essentially rendering her invisible to the naked eye. The only difference in this instance, she would have to rely on her own stamina to remain unseen, and not some external energy source.
She tapped that well. Her entire body glowed, then shimmered, thereafter blurred, and finally it faded while the Boy tapped and pressed on that thing on his arm. He missed when she vanished. So, when he finally returned from the exploration, he could only observe nothing where Sarah had been. In short, he panicked. Perhaps she had merely went on ahead, but as he searched the mobs, he could not find any trace of her. And although she could be fast when she desired, she wasn't 'this' fast. He stepped back retracing his way to the alley whence they came; heading down a few meters, he determined the same, and took up his dutiful post at the corner where they had rest - almost certain that she would come back for him. Faithful 'till the end.
Minutes passed before Kiln felt a hand on his shoulder. His own went for the blade, however tugged as he did at the sword in the sheath, it wouldn't budge; some force held it in check. He opted for the shield (slipping it against the opposite arm), but as he swung back spinning like a top in defense, he only struck the wall. Sparks flew; inertia kept going as he continued to go round and round. The pressure on his sword rescinded, so he donned that as well. The metal shone briefly. It rotated as well, seeking out anything that could not be seen. Meanwhile, a few onlookers stared at the behavior and quickly shuffled forward, backwards, sideways and away from the commotion. Yet, they never stopped watching.
With a sudden push, swirls of violet appeared out of thin air. The cloaking field flickered and revealed the Girl while she shoved (albeit slightly more gentle than she normally would) the Boy against the nearest structure. With a momentary impact she let him fall. He slumped. "Sorry, boy. Easiest way to explain to someone like you is to show you." Shutting her eyes, she honed in and the field reestablished. She stepped twice and knelt down before uncloaking. "You see me, then you don't. But," she pointed with a finger to the crowd, "They watch you. Not me. Understand?" She doubted he did to the fullest extent. All eyes were on him. "I'm a Ghost."
He glanced from Sarah, then unto the crowd and back. He could only stare - still obviously at a loss - but, he nodded. Slowly, he rose and continued looking at her. He was expecting her to disappear again. When she didn't, he grasped that she wouldn't anymore here. Reaching for his sword, he slung it back in its slot and walked in toe with his shield still strapped. Wherever they were going was likely to be dangerous. He knew that. Didn't understand how he knew, but he did: a vibe of sorts. The way she violently tried to teach only exemplified that fact. So, he followed adapting to the droves of people, blending in as they proceeded down the street.
The Backstreets were less packed. In fact, no one in the immediate vicinity. Perhaps they dare not tread this far into the property of a local club on principal, or maybe they had been given a reason not to. Either way, real danger existed now. Thugs were the least of the pair of Primes' worries. Instead, they whom would stop them, would be better armed, and certainly more skilled in combat. That's why a more finesse method was necessary. With that in mind, Sarah halted them both, holding out an arm which Kiln in turn, ran right-on-into. He grunted quietly. She held a finger up to her mouth and her thoughts probed his mind.
"Stay," she began. "You have to stay, here. Just for a bit okay?" He looked confused as she began to walk away. He still fell in line with her. Turning back abruptly, power flared in her eyes for a moment; particles erupted rapidly in burst of violet, purple and red and yet again he levitated through the air. Although, this time she stayed mild with him. A caress almost, that drifted him back to his previous position. This process repeated as he advanced once more. "No, wait here. I'll come back." After the second time he attempted nothing further. That much she could read amongst his sporadic brain patterns. So, she went off scouting, disappearing entirely from his gaze after drifting a few meters.
On her way, the Teenager darted beyond the bend but continued forward, checking all angles with a sweep of her head. Four. She counted, internally hoping that they had no way of detecting a cloaked Ghost. Even now she could feel the strain the feat put on herself, but it needed to work. Two at the entrance. Continuing to move she passed that. Two Patrolling. One guard slipped on continuing down an alleyway. She followed, treading near and readying herself for the strike. But, a pang reverberated into her head. It thumped and hurt; she almost cried out a hand clinging to the side of it. Falling against a dumpster she caught herself and quickly leaned for support. The guard went-on-by. As he passed her invisibility wavered. Thankfully though, he didn't face 'about. Instead, a deep-tremoring voice stormed the folds of her brain.
My Daughter, your Swarm needs guidance.
Kerrigan, greatest of creation's children,
Arise, arise again; serve as an Agent of change:
A bringer of order, stability and evolution.
Images flashed in her mind. Grotesque things from nightmares, breeding expanding and adapting. Creatures that were connected to her, somehow. The dumpster smelt terrible, but she couldn't move. Its stench clogged her nostrils; she gagged choking on it, and thrashed against the Voice. "I will not join - you - whatever you are. I serve none like you." Sarah couldn't be sure if she spoke aloud or not. If she did, it couldn't have been anything more than a whisper, because that was how she felt in comparison to the intruder in her mind's realm. With a faltering disposition she sealed herself off, cornering the invasive force and dispersing it around the fibers of her Environmental Suit. She blinked out of sight. Standing wearily (her legs felt like jelly) she trudged, dragging a palm along a wall to steady herself out of the alleyway.
The same as my dream. Its voice: real. Why can't I remember? This never happened before. The last fearful thoughts before action. The Patroller continued on by her. She heard him make a comm's check; the last one he would ever have. She crept up behind him; slipped an arm around his neck - providing leverage with the opposite - and twisted. His neck snapped, broken and she lowered him to the ground: dead. She couldn't chance him waking up. Sweat engulfed her temples, trailing on her cheeks and stinging her eyes. Her entire body heated up like a furnace as she exited the alley and made for the Complex's hidden entrance.
Three together. The other returned from a patrol. Take the nearest out. Disarm, use one as a shield. Approaching, she advanced in directly. Acting in a quick array of motions, she kicked a knee and it buckled. The Goon jerked aiming the rifle. Sweeping her arm across she knocked it from his hands, and thereafter sent a palm up into his nose, breaking it upon impact. Blood splattered he gagged and covered his face. She spun out, alternating her footing as the gunfire began. The bullets pelted as she held him in place from behind. One fired and the other shouted into his communicator.
"There's trouble need more guys out here!"
That's right, open doors for ladies. Sarah smirked and threw her captive forward - adding just a bit of an additional push with psionic force. Swirls of blue and violet emitted from her pupils, as the telekinetic force slammed into the paired dumbfounded guardians. They hit into each other and stumbled, losing their footing. Right before Sarah could finish them off, Kiln appeared running at all speeds, apparently forgetting his 'orders' to stay behind. Although not the brightest, his technique with the blade was deadly. He slashed horizontally across, vertically up and diagonally down, carving the lot up like thanksgiving turkey. By the time the hatched pavement parted, providing access to the underground pathway, their blood had pooled: three bodies to rot and none present cared.
"Next time, try listening. They would have been dealt with. There's a couple more on the way. Come on, Kiln, let's get inside!"
![[Image: SarahKerrigan_sig199_zpswcfeq7fe.png]](http://i936.photobucket.com/albums/ad202/missfinefeather/SarahKerrigan_sig199_zpswcfeq7fe.png)