[4-14] The Town

[Zack Fair]

Like a thousand other doorways before it, Abner abruptly popped through the entry to a room filled with computers, speakers, and microphones. His pistol was raised, and he was happy to confirm that the premises was devoid of life. Not that he didn’t hope to eventually find someone, but now was certainly not the time, with fatigue and injuries setting in. This final room interested him, but he’d dig through it the secondaries in tow. After all, safety was relative on this island, and there was no point in leaving them in the lobby.
 
He holstered his pistol and made his way back to the waiting room, where Trent and Kristen were in the midst of looting a vending machine. He had to admit he was slightly impressed by the secondaries actually doing something that wasn’t screaming in terror. At the same time, he took note of the fact that Colonel wasn’t back yet. During his building sweep he’d spotted the robot going through recordings, so he guessed that the soldier navi wasn’t quite done with that, yet. It would be wise to dig up whatever information they could, then compare notes.
 
“Catch!” Trent shouted, snapping the older man from his thoughts.
 
Abner snagged a bag of potato chips and a Pepsi out of the air when they were flung to him, and nodded when he saw Trent and Kristen already working on their own shoddy meals. He stuck the Pepsi in one of his cargo pockets, next to one of the flasks he’d managed to retain during all the chaos, but when ahead and opened the back of chips.
 
“Not thirsty?” Kristen asked, sounding almost disbelieving as she did.
 
“That stuff’s bad for you,” Abner replied, tucking the bag away just long enough to light a cigarette. The secondaries stared blankly at him, unable to tell if he was joking or not. He simply waved them over. “Come on. There’s a room I want to check out, and it’s safer than here.”
 
That last part was clearly the information they needed, and they wasted no time running after him. The three human members of the quartet ascended the stairs and entered the room that Abner had last been in, taking note of the various monitors that lined the wall.
 
“See if you find any clues about what happened to this place,” Abner ordered, pacing over to the main computer system.
 
The secondaries got to work in the rest of the room, while Abner looked over the largest piece of technology. If Colonel was able to get some recordings off of something similar, he didn’t see why he shouldn’t be able to do the same. It didn’t seem to be a broadcasting or recording station, though. He turned a few dials and watched the monitors change, before the realization hit him. This was a communications station. This room was for talking to people on other parts of the island, or if they were lucky, off of the island.
 
Abner leaned over the microphone and pressed the transmitter down, mouthing a silent prayer before he spoke. “Radio check, radio check. Does anybody read us?”
 
Trent and Kristen dropped what they were doing and looked to Abner with great interest.
 
“Identify,” a cryptic voice responded through the room’s few speakers. The voice sent a chill down the secondaries’ spines, like a powerful, unseen figure. It triggered a different reaction in Abner.
 
“Identify?” Abner repeated, in angry disbelief. This asshole was really going to throw protocol in his face? “Motherfucker, we’re the only goddamn people left on this shithole island. That’s who the fuck you’re talking to! Identify yourself, jackass. Where is this station reaching?”
 
Abner continued to seethe in rage, but no response came through. An air of eerie silence hung in the room, and Kristen gave Trent a worried look. She hoped Abner hadn’t just pissed off someone capable of helping them. Trent saw the look, and gulped. Kristen gave him a powerful level of courage, so he’d just ask the embittered man.
 
“You didn’t just scare them off, did you?” Trent broke the silence, but Abner never turned or even stood from the console he leaned over.

“Hopefully went to get his supervisor,” Abner was careful to not direct any of his rage to the two that didn’t deserve it.

“Unknowns, are you still there? This is Syntech Headquarters,” a distinctly different and far less ominous voice came through the speakers. Abner grinned and turned long enough to give Trent a knowing nod.

“That’s affirmative,” Abner said back into the receiver as he silently fistpumped. “We’re survivors from a plane crash. We dropped into whatever the hell is going on here.”
 
“The plane crash?” The voice sounded relieved. “My God, we’ve been looking for all of you. Do you have Karl Jak with you?”

“Negative,” Abner responded, rolling his eyes. Figures that would be the first question. “I’ve got me and three others, and we have injuries. Can you get us a rescue?”

“We’re mobilized and searching,” the man responded. “What transmission point are you located at?”

“It was called Radio Station Karl,” Abner responded as he looked around futilely for anything resembling a map.

“…I’m not familiar. Do you have co-ordinates or a nearby landmark?” the man said back through the speakers.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s down the road from Radio Station Jak?” Abner began to sound a bit overwhelmed, even through his sarcasm. “I stopped counting street signs when some rock smashing monster was chasing us.”

“Okay, we’ve got you,” the voice ignored Abner’s mouth, as many people forced to work with him over the years quickly learned to do. “There should be a blue pad somewhere in the room, near the console.”

Abner looked around, and noticed Kristen pointing at it. He nodded, then keyed up the transmitter again. “Yea, I see it.”

“Ok, we can teleport you back to headquarters through that,” the man continued. “We have to do it one at a time, but at least we can get the four of you out of there.”

“Kristen first,” Trent suddenly said, before Abner could fully process that comment.

“Trent, I…” Kristen started to respond, flustered by his chivalry.

“We’re all going. Let’s just get you back first, alright?” Trent gave a firm, confident nod. It was a lot easier to show some courage at this point.

“Just get on the damn teleporter,” Abner snapped, breaking up the moment. Of course the kid would grow some balls now. “I’ll go get Colonel after we send you two back.”

Kristen smiled, and grabbed Trent by the shirt collar. The boy’s eyes went wide as she planted her lips on his firmly, giving the young man the best kiss he’d ever received. He sure felt like he earned it. Abner rolled his eyes, but noted that Kristen hurried her way to the platform.

“Alright, first one’s up. What do I do on my end?” Abner asked back into the console.

“Nothing. Stand by,” the voice responded.

Abner and Trent watched as blue energy began to surround Kristen. The girl held her hand up and looked it over, unable to tell where the energy was coming from. It was beautiful, and not just because she knew it meant she could leave this island behind.

“At least it’s all over,” Trent commented. “It could have been a whole lot worse.”

Kristen vanished in a flash of blue, but immediately all the other lights in the room went out. Emergency backup lights flicked on almost immediately, preventing the darkness from lasting long. Abner pressed the transmitter in silent fury, but nothing went out. The console had lost power.

“What happened?” Trent was almost too scared to ask.

Now, Abner had somewhere appropriate to direct his rage.

“I am going to whoop your ass.”

[Zack Fair]

Abner sighed and sat back, eating the last two potato chips from his small bag. He’d been working on the console for some time. Power had been restored to it, but the monitors weren’t linking up. He admittedly didn’t know much about computers, but he’d done a little hot wiring in his day, and he could figure out where power was coming from. Truthfully, his preferred method would have been forcing Trent to stick his finger in everything that looked like it might channel electricity. They had been this close to the end and he’d spoken a jinx on the whole thing.
 
The boy silently and fearfully watched Abner stand up from the hatch on the side of the console. He wasn’t sure if he was more terrified of being stranded on an island with monsters and zombies, or with Abner now. The shouting that had immediately filled the room after Kristen’s departure made him vote for the latter. For now, the young secondary stayed out of the former stormtrooper’s way unless needed.
 
Abner took another look at the giant console and the blank monitors. With a burst of anger and frustration he stepped in and delivered a powerful kick to the steel case than protected the inner circuits. It made Trent step back in terror, but Abner was actually pleasantly surprised to see one of the monitors blink back to life. None of the words or numbers on it matched what had been there before, but it was worth a try to see if communications were back up.
 
“Syntech, do you read me?” Abner asked after keying the microphone back up.
 
There was no response, and Trent watched Abner’s shoulders drop in defeat. The man was taking this so seriously that the secondary had actually become superstitious in the past thirty minutes.
 
“Nothing. Nothing!” Abner shouted, kicking the console again. “Dammit!”
 
“Abner!” a completely different voice came through the console. This one Abner recognized in a heartbeat. A beat that his heart skipped, on that note. A voice he’d never forget: Christa’s.
 
She was alive. It might have been better to die and respawn at the Nexus to get away from this madness, but he didn’t quite trust that child-God they’d encountered before to always come through on his word. There was no guesswork anymore, at that was enough to put him at peace within the chaos. She was alive.
 
“Christa!” Abner transmitted back, overwhelmed with relief, but still focused on the moment. “Christa, where the hell are you?”
 
“We’re in a bunker, somewhere in the woods,” Christa responded. She sounded absolutely exhausted, and completely burdened. “Where are you?”
 
“A radio station in some town,” Abner answered. “Syntech got one of us out remotely, and we’re trying to get back through to them.”
 
There wasn’t an immediate answer, causing Abner to cock an eyebrow.
 
“Christa?” He asked into it, making sure the connection still existed.
 
“We need to meet up. Where are you?” Christa bluntly asked, ignoring the point about Syntech’s aid. Abner pursed his lips. There might be something to that.
 
“We’re in…” Abner looked around. He had no GPS, map, or even a compass. “…town.”
 
“We’ll find each other. Look for a signal. Smoke or something,” Christa quickly responded. “Stay alive.”
 
“You too,” Abner quickly said, then backed away from the console. He grimaced and looked at Trent, who was just silently observing. “Sweetest girl in the world, really.”
 
“Oh yea, I can see,” Trent quickly nodded in agreement. Damned if he was going to openly disagree with Abner on something right now.
 
“I’m going to find Colonel. Answer that if anyone comes back over it,” Abner ordered the secondary, as he made his way from the room.
 
He quickly marched into the hall and looked for his cybernetic friend. It was a good thing, after all, that he hadn’t been whisked away and left Christa behind. He had to find her, even if he had no idea how to do so. One thing was for sure about that girl, though: when she wanted to be seen, she would make a hell of a show.
 
Hopefully he’d get there first.

Connected to Flights of Fancy by communicator.

2063/2400 for the round by site counter.

[Gin Yatreg]

Gin pondered his options for a second, and looked back at Remilia. "Well, the main thing I want to do is tell everyone who's still alive about the docks. Even if it's a long shot, it'd still be good for us all to meet up again," He said.

Remilia gave him a condescending look, "How exactly do you plan to do that when they could be anywhere in this town right now?" She asked.

Gin put his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with an answer. "I...don't really know actually," He said. This had turned into a bit of a conundrum for Gin; he wanted to find the others still in the town and tell them what they learned, but, despite what he had just said, he also did not want to abandon Remilia either. In the short time they've spent together, Gin had started to think of her a friend. Albeit, a very demanding friend. While racking his brain, Gin felt the object he found earlier in his pocket. As he did so, he started to lose focus on the world around him and his attention began to shift towards it. It was as if it were calling out to his mind. Suddenly Remilia's voice snapped him back to reality:

"Perfect. Then we go with my idea then, and leave now," Remilia said, asserting her will. 

Don't leave.

Gin looked around in confusion, wondering where that voice came from. "Hey, did you hear that?" He nervously asked Remilia.

Stay here.

Join us.

Remilia looked at Gin in confusion, "What? The only thing I've heard in the past few minutes has been our conversation."

"You sure? It sounds like a loud whisper," Gin said as he tried to find the source of the voices.

The Flesh sings to us.

The Flesh will sing to you.

Listen and ascend.

Gin's head began to ache, the voices echoed inside his skull. This wasn't like his previous headaches, this was worse, it felt like someone was stabbing his brain. As he rubbed his head, the conversation he had with the hotel manager in his dream popped back into his head. It imposed its will on people, it changed them  into something they never were. Gin pulled the object from his jacket and stared wide-eyed at it as he realized what was happening. He immediately threw the ingot of Omnillium onto the ground and stomped on it as hard as he could. No visible damage occurred however, but the voices came to a sudden stop soon after. He looked up to the worried, confused, and horrified face of Remilia that stared at him from under her umbrella. "Right, so...I should probably explain a few things, huh?" Gin asked, breathing somewhat heavily thanks to that experience.

Remilia just slowly nodded her head in response.

[Karl Jak]

End of Round 8
 
All primes and secondaries in the town will start to develop a headache and fever symptoms, except Colonel, who will instead experience some overheating issues and stiffness in his joints that he’s unable to remedy.  You may also spot ghoulish, deformed people stalking the town and wanting your blood.
 
Amber suffers 6 points of Accumulated Damage
Carmelita suffers 4 points of Accumulated Damage
 
Arturia suffers 1 point of Accumulated Damage
 
Everyone else seems to have something they're rolling with or building toward, but if that isn't the case, you can lemme know (plz)
 
Gin Yatreg has been eliminated from final prize contention.
 
Colonel ‘won’ Round 8.  I will PM you with additional information.

[Gin Yatreg]

The duo took shelter in a nearby bus stop and sat down on one of the benches under the small roof. The rain still had yet to let up even after all this time, in fact Gin had started to think it never would. The omnillium ingot sat in between the two, as they figured leaving it in the open street would be worse than taking it with them. Remilia stared at him intensely, she was a bit on edge after the little episode he just had. "Alright, I'll start from just after you went upstairs," Gin began, "Let's see...It started when I tried some scotch I found in the room."  

"Oh, you're just drunk," Remilia said with a sigh of relief.

"IT WAS ONE SHOT!" Gin yelled in embarrassment. "Granted my legs did feel like rubber after..." He trailed off.

"I guess someone can't hold their liquor," Remilia teased.

"Oh this is going to take a while," Gin mumbled.

~~~

"...Then that's when I started hearing the voice, and here we are." He finished. Gin took a moment to see what Remilia's reaction was to all of this information, he face seemed to have no emotion on it at all as she took it all in. Finally, she opened her mouth to speak.

"You sure you aren't drunk?" She bluntly asked.

Gin nearly fell over at that remark, however he managed to maintain his balance and responded. "You don't believe me? After everything so far?" He asked her.

"Oh no, I do. I just felt like teasing you a bit more." She giggled. Remilia stood up and opened her umbrella, "Come on, let's get going."

"Ah, wait. We still need to figure out how to send a message to everyone in the town!" Gin exclaimed. 

Remilia sighed, she obviously wasn't going to be able to convince Gin to drop it. "Alright, what do you have in mind?" she asked. 

Gin pondered what to do. Obviously with the fog, it'd be hard to even see a warning sign. Plus with how big the town is, searching for the others would take too long as well. They needed something that wouldn't be hindered by the fog, something that could alert the others about their situation. Soon the idea hit him like a ton of bricks; they could use sound! "Hey, do you see a music store anywhere?" Gin asked.

"I saw one while dragging you over here, but why a music store?" Remilia said confused. 

"If none of us can use our eyes to find each other, then we'll use sound!" Gin said.

The idea clicked in Remilia's head, and she nodded in agreement. 

~~~

"This...This is a music store?" Gin said in astonishment. Before them was an extremely tall building, one that stretched high out of the fog. The words 'PAULS MUSIC EMPORIUM' dimly glowed above the entrance, which meant it still had a working power grid. "This is more like a musical mall!" 

"Whoever Paul is, he certainly knows how to run a business. Now let's hurry it up, I'd prefer to get out of this place within the next day," Remilia said as she walked to the doors. She stopped and looked at Gin, coughing unexpectedly. 

Gin stared blankly for a second before he realized that she wanted him to open the door for her. "Really, we're doing this now?" he said.

"A man must be a gentlemen no matter the situation," Remilia said.

Gin rolled his eyes and opened the door for Remilia, and followed her inside. The owner had really gone all out on his store, display cases filled the walls leaving no space unfilled. Glass stairs led up to the second floor, where racks of vintage records could be found. From what a nearby store map told them, each floor was dedicated to a different era of music; going from newest to oldest as you went up. There was also clothing sections, which pleased Remilia greatly after the failed attempt to get new clothes went sour in the hotel.  As she got changed, Gin went off to gather the supplies he needed for his plan of action. First order of business though, was to find a sealed container he could put the omnillium ingot in. No way was he gonna leave that unchecked and out in the open. 

"God, I'm starting to get a headache again." He said.

[Zack Fair]

Abner rubbed his head as he entered the room he’d left Colonel in. For some reason he had a splitting headache. It had shown up not long after Kristen had been sent back to Syntech, along with a dry throat and some general fatigue. He assumed that it simply came from his lack rest. Or, really, he hoped that was all it was.

The soldier navi had moved from the console that played the recordings left by the radio DJ, and instead was towering over a man with a definitive bullet wound in his head. Colonel looked to Abner as the former trooper approached, then joined him in looking at the corpse before them.

“Did he tell you anything interesting?” Abner asked as he took a drag of his cigarette.

Colonel had begun to understand the former Stormtrooper’s odd way of communicating. “I believe this is the one who left several recordings on the station’s archives, just over there. He spoke of strange behavior and deformed people. He specifically mentioned they were worst in three places on this island.”

“Three places we ought to avoid, then,” Abner was quick to offer his thought on that matter. Colonel didn’t respond immediately, so Abner shared his bit. “We got ahold of Syntech. They even got Kristen out by teleporter.”

“They can get the rest of us out?” Colonel quickly asked. All the information he’d gleamed would be rendered wondrously irrelevant if they were able to depart that easily.
 
“Well, that’s the thing,” Abner removed his ball cap for a moment, so he could scratch his head. “The whole network went down. Did the power flicker in here?”

“Briefly,” Colonel remembered.

“Yea, we can’t get Syntech back on the line,” Abner said as he replaced the hat. “We got local communications working, though. I got Christa on the line, thank Omni. Hopefully we can link up with her.”

Colonel nodded. He remembered Abner mentioning that the woman who he’d followed onto the plane. Strength in numbers would definitely be a benefit, but the real interest to him was the fact that Syntech was unreachable. “Do you know what the problem with the connection is?”

“To be honest, I was hoping you could…plug into it?” Abner awkwardly suggested. “Maybe you could tell us? Does it work that way?”

Colonel let Abner bask in his stern glare for a moment before answering. “It does not.”

“Well, will you take a look, anyway?” Abner asked after another uncomfortable silence.

“Yes,” Colonel was again concise with his response.

With their work in this room done, Abner dropped down to the corpse before them. He patted the deceased man over a few times, searching for anything that might be useful. Unfortunately, his pockets were empty, devoid of even a spare magazine or loose rounds for the pistol that lay beside him. Abner grabbed the gun and tucked it into his waistband for the moment, so that he could pass it on to Trent. It made sense to keep everyone armed.
 
Abner stood up and noticed Colonel seemingly stretching one of his arms. The soldier navi noticed him staring, and lowered his arm to his side, slowly. Abner wondered if even this machine was feeling as crappy as he was. Something was amiss, for sure. Colonel had even reacted similarly when he and the three secondaries simultaneously vomited, back in town. As concerning as it was, it was also a lower priority, for now.
 
They made their way back through the hallway and into the room where Trent was still backed far away from the machinery. Colonel approached the computer and it’s many screens, while Trent walked over to Abner. The ex-trooper looked to the young secondary, then wordlessly placed the freshly looted pistol in his hands.
 
Trent stared at the gun in shock, but held it up to look it over. “I’ve never used one of these, Abner.”
 
“You might have to learn how, if we can’t get through to Syntech,” Abner said, while also reaching out and grabbing Trent’s wrist, to lower the gun so the inexperienced secondary wasn’t pointing the muzzle at anyone.
 
Not more than a couple seconds after Trent tucked the pistol into the back of his own pants, there was a harsh pounding at the downstairs door. Abner turned and looked down the stairs, cautiously tilting his head as he listened. There was obviously more than one person banging on the front door, and however many there were, they were certainly making a hell of a racket. He had a bad feeling about this.
 
There was a distinct crash. Abner could tell the door had been ripped from the hinges, and whatever was outside was now indoors with them. He grabbed his hanging blaster rifle and aimed it down the stairs, taking slow breaths to keep his aim steady while he waited. The good news was that this staircase was the only access to the upper level. He could hold a bottleneck for a short time, at least.
 
“Colonel!” Abner called out, briefly using his non-dominant hand to wave Trent back into the room with the soldier navi.
 
“The system can’t be repaired!” Colonel’s voice responded, sensing the urgency. “Not in any expedient time frame!”
 
The horde arrived like a cascading wave. One second they were unseen, and the next, they were everywhere. Ghoulish, deformed zombies filled the staircase and tried to storm up, almost like a singular hive minded entity. Their coordination was greatly thrown off when Abner blasted the lead being in the chest, killing it instantly and sending its corpse back into the crowd. While they struggled to move past the deceased body holding them back, Abner continued to pick off individuals. It was working for now, but it wouldn’t last.
 
“We gotta go!” Abner shouted, though he never removed his eyes from the bottlenecked horde, and continued to fire into them. “Broadcast over local coms that this station isn’t secure anymore!”
 
Colonel appeared out of the doorway a moment later. Abner prayed to all the deities he’d ever been under the thumb of that Colonel had acquiesced to his request, but he certainly couldn’t run back to the communicator to make sure. As important as it was to make sure Christa knew not to seek out this compromised location, it was equally important to get the hell out of this station before they lost what flimsy control they had.
 
Glass shattered down the hallway, and Abner took a glance to see Colonel had utterly destroyed a window leading to the roof. Not the most practical exit, but it was certainly better than pushing back against the horde that was rapidly gaining ground against his continued blaster fire.
 
Colonel climbed through the window, with Trent in hot pursuit. Abner took one final shot into the crowd with his blaster rifle, then charged after the two of them. He jumped out the window with no hesitation, and was thankful to have no descent to solid ground. He ran after Colonel and Trent, and when they leaped across an alleyway to a different rooftop, he followed without question.

The roofs were loosely connected, by either platforms or adjoining buildings. It would make transit quicker in theory, but this energy exertion had Abner in a cold sweat. He tried to push it aside, but the fact was that he simply felt like shit. Trent was broadcasting similar symptoms, and even Colonel looked uncomfortable. This wasn’t good.

He looked ahead to see another small crisis. Two deformed individuals shared the rooftop with them. While one was creeping towards them on its hands and knees, looking read to pounce, the other stood upright with a long tongue touching the ground and a haze of smoke around it.

Trent’s horror contrasted with Colonel’s stoic gaze. Abner tossed his cigarette aside and raised his rifle with a heavy sigh. Even before these abominations, his primary emotion was still annoyance. After all, if they could pressgang Trent into being a combatant, they certainly could have utilized Kristen.

“Really missing that fourth, right about now.”

1371/2400 Words

[Karl Jak]

Something stirred in the debris.

With fatigue in their eyes, the three women watched as the monster rose from what should have been its grave. Its body continued to shift and mutate as it threw itself at the trio.

Your encounter was a boss, so the only one who can kill it is me. You all have an opportunity to post again if you please.

[Carmelita]

Carmelita hauled Arturia to her feet as the evolving being began approaching. The three women settled into tired combat positions, two swords and a shock pistol readied for the fight.

The thing that was coming towards them was barely recognisable. It had just about been able to adapt to a pitch of noise that was shaking the thing apart, and now it strode towards them slowly, huge globules of fat wobbling as it did. The noise of its feet was muffled by shaggy fur that encompassed it fully, a sound dampener that was only parted for two insectoid eyes and an array of prehensile spikes that spread from its back like the feathers of an angel.

As one the group stepped back as it brought the spikes down in a ponderous arc. The force behind them drove the spikes into the concrete floor, and as it lifted them out the thing parried sword blows and a ball of electricity with ease.

“Dammit Fleshy, stay DOWN!” Amber yelled, and she rushed forwards, trying to get inside the protective umbrella to actually land a hit on Fleshy’s body. Instead the spikes blocked her way, and Arturia had to parry several spikes that were descending towards her.

Carmelita frowned to herself as they continued their dance, firing shocks that dissipated as soon as they touched the bony protrusions. Clearly the main body was now vulnerable to attack, since it had forgone a bony exterior for something more resistant to sonic attack, but hitting it was another matter.

“Amber, Arturia, distract it!” she exclaimed, before touching a digit to her collar. The scent of singed air hit her muzzle as she faded from the other combatants view, a comforting amount of relief.

The faunus and the knight looked at each other before continuing to fight. They parried and backpedaled, parried and backpedaled, swung around a medicine counter and continued backing off and parrying. Arturia tried a riposte, and succeeded in shattering one of the spikes, but the bony protrusion dropped off and slowly began regrowing, the remaining spikes covering for its loss.

Amber had converted Razorback to a gun and tried to fire at Fleshy, a few bullets tearing chunks out of its shoulder before the spikes began to parry the gunfire, sparks flying as they connected. She frowned and converted her weapon back into a sword and relieved Arturia of some of the pressure, continuing to parry and try and break through.

The two had completed two more circuits of the room, and little to nothing had changed aside from the rubble being solidly trampled underfoot. The pile of ceiling in the middle of the room meant that they could very easily continue retreating, though Fleshy showed no signs of tiring.

“Did Carmelita leave us?” Arturia wondered out loud as the two began on their fourth circuit.

“I’m sure she hasn’t, she seemed like she had an idea…” Amber said, her voice weary as the adrenaline worked its way out of her system.

They had retreated another half circuit when Carmelita struck. Emerging from her cloak directly behind Fleshy, she rolled under its spikes from behind and came up directly in front of it, a fully charged shot ready.

“Kill it now!” she cried, releasing the ball of electricity directly into Fleshy’s face.

As it screamed blindly, she dashed to one side too slow to avoid the stabbing of one of its spikes, curling round and stabbing her directly above her hip and pinning her to Fleshy’s side. Unfortunately for the being, the rest of the spikes missed and crashed into its own body, which immediately started evolving to counteract the threat that stemmed from itself. In the writhing confusion that followed, its guard was left wide open for Amber and Arturia to perform the finishing blows.

[2B]

For every man, there was cause that they would proudly die for, something they would fight for with something as mere as their bare hands. A cause, for which they would be willing to shed blood, even if it was their own. And for the King of Knights, protecting her own was such a cause. This being had went on for long enough, and Arturia was not about to watch her comrades be harmed any further, as a blast of air emanated from her blade, staggering Fleshy as the Golden Blade revealed it’s radiating glow once more.

It was a sign of hope, as much as it was a sign of the fact that the Knight was serious. Carmelita had paid a price for the opening she had created. To pay homage to her sacrifice, the pair would bring the creature down with haste.

Arturia dug her blade through the soft underside of the being. With ease, Excalibur sunk into the globules of fat that sprayed their innards across the floor. The torrent of slippery grease and puss creating an unstable footing for the whole group. An environmental hazard which the King of Knights would remorselessly abuse in a combination attack with Amber.

“The legs, NOW!” her voice carried in the air out to Amber as their blades sung a song of death in unison, slashing away the vital tendons in Fleshy’s legs to bring the monster down. The duo bought enough time for Carmelita to escape from her painful prison of impalement with their maneuver, sending the creature stumbling upon the skating ring of grease, before balance was lost and the thing hit the floor with a soft thump.

But, Fleshy wasn’t dead. In reality, the three of them weren’t even certain if it could be killed anymore. But, they took joy in the small victories, with the spiked wing-like extensions in its back were in a war among themselves, as the being kept impaling itself.

“Limbs, Amber! Go for the limbs!” the knight called out as she rushed out with haste to abandon the things called sword techniques. The blade of Excalibur brought down like a woodcutter’s axe, the Knight began to hack away Fleshy’s leg from its thigh, Amber following the knight’s example with swift execution. Arturia knew her swings lacked in strength compared to those of Amber, the wound in her arm coming back to haunt her, as she couldn’t get a proper two handed grip of her sword.

“DIE; DIE; DIE!” the faunus shrieked with each impact of her sword, as the two of them were slowly working through the limbs. If they couldn’t kill it, they’d just be forced render Fleshy immobile and buy themselves some time to find a way. Carmelita’s shock pistol howled with the continuous firing toward Fleshy’s head, sending his muscles into a disarray of out of control nerve signals, providing an ample distraction to the swordsmen.

Slowly, the pair backed off as one of Fleshy’s legs laid on the floor, and another was likely attached only by the slightest of threads. Sadly, the immobility they thought they’d doomed thing into was naught but a daydream, for which a wake up call was provided in the swiftest of ways. The bony spikes thrust themselves into the floor, and raised the nearly legless mutilated corpse into the air. As it’s left leg hung by by a shred of flesh, a grin spread across the Faunus’ visage, as Razorback was swiftly shifted into a gun once more, a carefully aimed projectile cutting through the flesh, and dropping the leg down. Even then, the stubs that had once been its legs were no longer bleeding, already closed off by the inhuman reconstructive abilities Fleshy seemed to possess.

It was starting to be hard for the trio to find hope in this hopeless situation, but if one were to look for even the tiniest of bright sides?
Well, at least the defence provided from the bony spikes was now utilized elsewhere.

[Amber Veritz]

The faunus grew weary of this endeavor. Fleshy had survived shots, slices, and even noise that could’ve busted her eardrums. The adrenaline shots she had taken were starting to wear off too. If they didn't finish this quickly then they were not going to finish it at all.

Fleshy continued to piss Amber off. The total mutation was totally unfair, but ‘all's fair in love and war’ she thought. It was time to show this thing who was boss. Arturia continued to hack at it, dodging what was left of the spikes that were still being used as offensive measures. They needed to .combine all their attacks at once. As far as Amber has been aware, Fleshy has only been able to mutate against one damage type at a time. Meaning of they were able to dish out damage in different forms at the same time, they could potentially destroy it for good.

“Time to die Fleshy! Arty! Carmel! All at once! Let's bring this bastard down!” The three of them nodded to each other and their plan was in motion. Amber stood back, taking shots with Razorback from a distance. Fleshy used his spikes to block the bullets, leaving Carmelita the chance to charge her pistol and shock it from behind while the King of Knights cut clean across it’s chest. It screeched in pain as Aturia’s steel tore apart it’s body.

Now seeing Arturia as the greatest threat, it turned it’s attention to the King, trying to impale her. Luckily, Arturia was able to parry them off her like before. Amber kept firing, bullets tearing through Fleshy at sonic speed.

BANG, BANG, BANG, click, click...click

The fire supprot Amber provided was now useless. “I'm out! I’m out of ammo!” She said as the gears of Razorback hummed taking on it’s sword form. Now was no time to panic. Arturia still had Fleshy’s attention, so Amber did something she might regret later. She raised Razorback over her head like a spear, took a second to line up her shot, the chucked Razorback forward. The steel impaled the once human being, puss and blood flying everywhere from out of it’s chest and back. Fleshy replied with more inhuman screams of pain and an attempt to wedge the sword out, which failed. Not only had the blade dug too deep, but the pain in trying to pull it out seemed unbearable, even for the mutated human.

Amber readied her claws and jumped into the fray once more with her friends. Hopefully, she could get close enough to tear Razorback out of Fleshy, with much more force than totally necessary.

Amber is completely out of ammo and has disarmed herself of Razorback which is now lodged in Fleshy's chest.

[Karl Jak]

Face to Face
Amber, Arturia, Carmelita vs the Scientist

Could something absorb some much punishment?

As Amber stumbled away from ‘Fleshy,’ the shifting, mutating human continued its wretched screams as it lurched back.  The three women tensed, expecting their adversary to come at them once more—to rise up from the precipice of death as it had done in the past.

Instead, ‘Fleshy’ pitched sideways and crashed against a pile of debris.  Like a cracked egg on a hot sidewalk, the creature’s flesh started to sizzle and pop.  Its malleable flesh bubbled like boiling water as it slid off of twisted, gnarled bones and became more akin to liquid than a solid mass.  What was left beneath the skin of the creature quickly started to lose structural integrity and boil away as well, until there was nothing left but a blood-stained Razorback resting atop a pile of broken ceiling tiles and chunks of concrete and drywall.

“Did… did we do it?”  Amber asked as she started toward the wreckage.  She collected her weapon and glanced around, but when no killer puddles rose from the ground around them, she let out a sigh of relief.

Carmelita smiled and moved forward, her focus immediately turning to the broken door that had been on the other side of the long-since destroyed lounge.  When he had been just a man, Fleshy had come stumbling out from somewhere.  Although it took some effort to clear a path, the three women made their way through the wreckage of the basement room and traversed a reinforced metal hallway en route to a single steel door.  Fortunately for the winded, battered threesome, here wasn’t a number pad or a fancy place to scan a handprint.  All they had to do was press a button and the door slid into the opposing wall with a pneumatic hiss.

The room that they stepped into was a ransacked laboratory.  Whoever he had been, Fleshy must have tried his hardest to tear the place apart before stumbling out into the employee lounge.  Computer monitors had been overturned.  Lab equipment lay in twisted masses throughout the room.  Shards of broken glassware dotted the landscape like twinkling snowflakes.  Chemical stains marred the walls and floor, and at first glance, it genuinely looked like the room was a dead-end.

“This is what we fought for?”  Amber muttered as she clutched a hand to the side of her head.  The adrenaline had served to numb the fever and the discomfort, but with the battle fading into the past, those uncomfortable feelings started to resurface.

“Can’t be,” Carmelita whispered as she walked into the center of the lab and tried to spot something—anything—of value amid the chaos.  The fox, her own head feeling warmer than it should have, stumbling toward a desk and nearly lost her balance.  Arturia was the first to reach her.

“You’re burning up,” the knight spoke softly as she rested a hand against her companion’s forehead.

“I’ll be fine,” Carmelita replied as she stood back up only to make it a few paces and fall once again.  When her knees hit the ground on this occasion, her weary eyes spotted something lying under a nearby desk.  Although buried under a busted piece of computer equipment, Carmelita spotted object clear as day.  Reaching forward as her two companions moved to help her, she pushed away the equipment and saw that the hidden item was a briefcase.

“What is it?” Amber asked as the fox pulled the case from the wreck and glanced down to see that the clasps were open.  If someone had been trying to stow the briefcase, they’d obviously been in too much of a hurry to lock it properly.

Without answering Amber, Carmelita lifted the lid and saw that there were three syringes wrapped in a piece of paper.  Once the paper was pulled away, they could see that all three of the syringes were filled with a murky blue liquid.

“The paper has some writing on it,” Arturia remarked.

“‘I think I did it!  May have finally solved issue of omnilium corruption.  May have isolated corruption agent.  Contained here are two samples of former, one sample of latter.  Self-administered remainder of inoculation agent.  Already feeling sick and can’t risk corruption.  Need to get to research lab immediately.  Situation in town untenable.  Need prepare for worsening of general situation.’”

Carmelita looked over the syringes and saw that none of them were labeled.  Whoever the scientist had been, he or she had been in too much of a rush.

“So… so it’s a cure for this?”  Amber remarked as she clenched a hand over an open sore on her forearm.

“I’m not sure,” Carmelita whispered as she looked over the vials.  “An inoculation is a lot different from a cure.”

[Carmelita]

The three women sat around the lab, staring at the open briefcase. The three syringes lay in the case, laid neatly in the foam packaging.

“To recap,” Carmelita began again, for the third time in the half an hour they’d been resting after the fight. “One of these will likely kill the user, if not turn them into a monster. The other two may or may not contain a vaccine, or if we’re lucky a miracle cure. Or they might not work, since judging by my headache we’ve also caught what Amber has. And there’s no guarantee that the zombie’s are related to the ghouls.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, so by basic maths, these three, identical syringes mean that there is a one third chance that the first syringe will kill someone. If it doesn’t, then there’s a half chance the second will.”

“Yes.”

“Madre de dios,” she groaned into her hands. The headache and chills going up her spine did not make it easy to think things through, but then she glanced at Amber. The difference in disease progression was apparent: Amber’s skin had been sloughing off, she was deathly pale and every so often her arms would start shaking.

Amber herself, ironically, seemed most focused on the case. She had taken the most damage in the fight, and was scratching her arm lightly where the blood had caked from an impact with the wall. Admittedly, the rest of them were in a bad shape as well, but she definitely had it the worst.

The faunus looked at Arturia, then at Carmelita.

“Inject me.”

Both of the others got to their feet, about to object, when the faunus raised a hand to halt their words.

“Hear me out. I’m the ideal first subject. I’m wounded, badly, and the two of you could put me down if I follow Fleshy’s example. On top of that, if it is a vaccine, then we find out if its a miracle cure or whether we should just chuck it down the drain and start scouring the island for herbs and leaves…”

Amber looked Carmelita in the eyes.

“You have those electric cuffs, don’t you? Put them on me. Give me peace of mind.”

She turned to Arturia.

“And you get ready with the sword. First sign I’m going feral, off with my head. Better to try respawning than to live as a monster.”

Carmelita and Arturia looked at each other. Carmelita’s mind was tearing itself apart in worry and indecision, but she could respect the choice and she reluctantly plucked the last pair of Fisti-Cuffs from her belt and gestured for Amber to put her hands behind her back.

“It feels wrong,” she whispered to herself. “To be doing this to an innocent.”

Amber’s keen ears flicked back and she chuckled.

“Carmy, this whole island’s been wrong. Let’s just keep doing what needs to be done. This is my choice.”

Carmelita nodded, and closed the cuffs quietly. She prepared the electrical shock for manual activation, and as they waited for Arturia’s verdict on the situation, offered Amber the briefcase for her to choose which syringe to use, and a last chance to back out.

[2B]

The knight felt hot herself, the fabric beneath her plated armor slick with sweat. In her fever addled mind, it was dawning upon Arturia that it wasn’t all quite right. That something was wrong.. If only she were able to deduce what. Over exertion? Internal trauma? Such would’ve been the knight’s ponderings, if only her thought would’ve ran. Instead, it was much like a fly stuck in tar, immobile, struggling. And with each struggle, it only managed to stuck itself further into the sticky substance.

If one were to look at the proud woman, she was swaying on her feet, clearly claiming support from the sword that was stabbed into the floor. Should her thought have jogged, she would’ve probably known to warn the other two, to perhaps catch her, or soften her fall. But, it was lights out for the exhausted and feverish knight. Slowly, her balance disappeared as her consciousness escaped, kidnapping with it any stiffness in her muscles. The knight fell backwards, swiftly crashing into a file cabinet before collapsing onto the floor with a slight drip of drool running from her mouth, her forehead slick of perspiration.

“Arturia?!” the two turned around in shock, their eyes filled with disbelief as the unconscious knight lay upon the floor, resting against a banged up file cabinet. Carmelita approached with haste, slapping the knight gently upon her cheeks. “Arturia, Arturia! Wake up! We can’t stay here, and it’d be rather problematic to carry you out of here..” her latter words more of a mutter to herself, than a plea to the fallen knight. In a way, if it hadn't been her ally in a peril, it would've been almost a relief, disturbing the looming possibility of the wrong syringe being injected in the near future.

“Dehydration, maybe?” Amber poked in nodding toward the bottle of water she had stored upon her belt - and that had somehow managed to stay intact through their considerable endeavours - to the officer. She would’ve given it to Carmelita, but given her hands were tied, that was little than a more impossible for her to achieve.

“Gracias.” With a simple thanks, the fox began to reached for the bottle, splashing a slight bit of it across Arturia’s face with a faint hope of perhaps arousing her from her suddenly found slumber. Without any signs of life provided from the maiden, Carmelita opted to at least help the knight at least drink to help her restore all the lost fluids.

It was a long process, given that she was helping someone incapable of helping themselves. With even the slightest observational prowess the police woman could notice how Arturia’s breathing was heavy and ragged, far from peaceful or easy.

“Mierda..” the fox cursed, before she spoke to Amber.. “This keeps getting messier all the while..” In the back of her mind, the possibility gnawed at her; If Arturia wouldn’t wake up in time, the task of the executioner would fall upon her if they went through with the injection. And as much as she respected Amber’s decision, she knew that bringing herself to commit such an act neared something impossible to achieve.

“I think we should wait a bit.. She’ll wake up soon, I’m certain. If you’d go fleshy….given the fight before, I wouldn’t be able to stop you alone, if something goes wrong..” Perhaps it was a veiled excuse, perhaps it contained with some real concern.. But Carmelita’s state of mind was not fit to that of the executioner, not after tonight. Sly… No. Carmelita forced her thoughts to take a different course, as Amber acknowledged her concern.

“You are right.. I refuse to risk you two further than I already have.. You… You may not be the team I had in my old world, but you are my team here, and now. And a team leader does not forsake their team, ever.” she spoke with power, before she sat down and they awaited for the knight’s consciousness to arise once more.

[Albert Wesker]

Working with the computers and machines in the radio station had required more dexterity than could be efficiently managed with just one hand. For that very reason, the soldier navi had had to disarm himself of his primary weapon, at least for the moment. The energy emitter for the blade of his sword switched off, letting a hand take its place on his dominant arm. ‘Drawing’ the blade again would only take a moment, but it was a very involved moment. And once the first call from Abner went up about the need to evacuate — and fast — he hadn’t exactly had a moment to activate the damned weapon.

Which, as they came face to face with the deformed ghouls sharing the rooftop and quite effectively interposing themselves right in their path of retreat, made him quite disgruntled. He slowly brought his right arm up, over his chest in his typical ‘ready’ stance, intending to activate his saber while he had a brief moment to do so, but was distracted by the lag and jerkiness of the movement. A faint grinding and protest of straining metal came from the joints in his arm, and the delay and miniscule extra effort was just enough to throw off his balance and focus to leave him wide open.

And the deformed individual creeping forward on all fours, perhaps sensing that weakness and momentary lapse in attentiveness, took full advantage. Like a hunter sensing vulnerable prey, it let out a piercing screech, the twisted noise something no creature calling itself ‘human’ could ever hope to make, and leaped forward in a lightning-quick leap.

“Shit!” One shot, and then a second, grazed the airborne figure, one making a solid impact on the thing’s arm, but not even seeming to slow it down. The momentum of its inhuman leap carried it straight into the war machine, sending the both of them toppling backward.

Colonel’s awareness of his surroundings failed there, and all he was aware of was a frenzy of movement as the other deformed rooftop guest let out a horrendous coughing sound, the smoke haze pouring off of it growing thicker, before his attention was solidly grabbed by a fierce, savage beating as the hooded, emaciated ghoul bore him to the ground, fists and clawed fingers smashing, bashing, tearing and gouging at anything they could, in a bestial, animalistic fury.

No tact, no aim, no careful seeking of weak points amid the maddened thrashing. Just simple brute force, hammering away. Tearing and battering away at the maddeningly composed digital warrior it had pinned to the ground.

And for his part, Colonel was finding it remarkably hard to hold off the ravening assault of the spindly, sickly humanoid atop him. They didn’t look to be capable of much in the way of real strength. They were thin, drawn and worn, skin pale and sunken, and covered in all manner of sores and abrasions. He was no doctor, but even he could hazard a guess that this poor soul should hardly have been capable of moving at all, much less fighting like something possessed.

But every blow that impacted sent out a resounding, ringing clang as it bounced off the metal plating he was armored in, hitting more like a hammer than a bare-fisted strike. Viscous, sludge-like blood was soon flying everywhere, the ghoulish attacker’s hands and fingers breaking and tearing as they beat and scrabbled against the automaton’s chest and face. Several nasty dents and gouges had been torn and rent into his frame already, and it was only by the grace of his sheer hardiness and the composure he was still retaining, actual skill and awareness of the frenzied assault, that let him twist and shrug off the blows, battering aside the ones he could with his own arms. But it was a losing battle.

With the strange stiffness plaguing him, and the unnatural, inhuman speed and ferocity the thing mauling him possessed, he wasn’t going to get a chance to strike back effectively if he couldn’t get out of this predicament. He needed a way to get out of it, and fast. A single gunshot, the large caliber bullet tearing a hole through the hooded predator’s ribcage, provided a potential way out.

He let his right arm flop to the rooftop beside him, flat against the surface. Time for a calculated risk. His eyes closed, and he turned his attention to the energy emitted in his arm. Blocking out the assault on his person, slowed and mitigated momentarily as it was by the surprise gunshot, was a chore, and it took several seconds for the blade to once again spark to life where his hand had been just moments ago. But he was armed again, and that was bad news for the ghoulish hunter.

A flash of emerald signaled the blade’s arrival over his chest and face, an errant blow of his attacker’s hand coming down right on the blade and shearing off three fingers. It distracted the marauding fiend just long enough for the soldier navi to bring one massive boot up and plant it firmly in the hooded individual’s chest. A force of effort sent him sailing away, ass over teakettle, and off the edge of the rooftop.

Colonel slowly rose up to stand again, looking more unsteady than ever. A prominent crack ran through his vision, hinting to him one of his eyes was probably damaged. Static flickered even more frequently across his field of view, along with a slew of warnings and diagnostic reports, indicating the numerous new dents, ruptures and breaches in his body. And something else very worrying.

WARNING: System thermal margins approaching dangerous levels. Overheating imminent.

“Damn…” He didn’t need to breathe, really, but nonetheless he was panting heavily: an emergency measure to vent the buildup of heat he was experiencing. If it helped at all, it was in a very minimal fashion. With enough time to run proper diagnostics and scan his damaged components, he could have probably figured out the issue and ran a workaround or solved it. He would have been back to working order in a matter of hours.

But they didn’t have hours. They didn’t even have minutes. A twisted, inhuman shrieking noise from back the way they had come told the soldier navi they had only seconds, if that.

He turned to survey the aftermath of the other rooftop guest, only to find it well-ventilated by the combined effort of the other two. A thick haze of smoke lingered in the area, and Trent was rubbing his throat uncomfortably.

The both of them looked terrible. Hell, he probably looked just as bad, all things considered. “Any bright ideas?”

“Keep moving.”

“Damn fine idea.”

1146 words, according to on-site wordcounter.

[Amber Veritz]

It was always too much. Amber had endured so much hardship on this island; zombies, disease, ghouls, insanity, mosquitoes, and now the disease laid in front of her, plain as day. Only now, one of these damn things could turn her into a Fleshy. If circumstances were better, she wouldn’t take the risk, but it needed to be done.

“Carmel. If Arty doesn’t come back to us in time, I need you to do it. Take my sword and angle it against my neck. If I should turn feral, sever my skull from my spine.” Amber said as serious as possible.

“Maybe we should for Artur-”

“No, I can’t go on much longer. I need it now. If anything you’ll be doing me a favor. I wish not to be a zombie, and you wont want to deal with a Fleshy me. I'll be 20x stronger than him. I’m not only prime, but my semblance will still be in effect. You wont survive.” As much as Carmelita wanted to tell her no, she did what was needed. Amber picked the syringe on the left, because she was left handed, and feeling a bit lucky. The police officer removed it from its store space and hesitantly injected it into Amber’s body. She laid on her stomach and closed her eyes, not wanting to see the blade above her as Carmelita rested the steel in the air like a guillotine. Now, they wait.

[Gin Yatreg]

Gin placed the omnillium ingot inside a small gutted flute case and locked it up tight. With that out of the way, he set out for a sound system loud enough to reach far into the town. As he browsed the various aisles, he came upon a door that read 'Browns Family Only' on the front. Curious, he opened the door and stepped into a large apartment. The living room seemed relatively untouched despite the situation outside, though it might be because it was such an out of the way place. When he turned the corner however, he was met with signs of a struggle leading into one of the bedrooms down the hall. The door was partially open, and from what he could hear, nothing was alive inside the room. Gin pushed the door open the rest of the way and walked in, where he was met with a grim sight. A man's body sat in a wooden chair with a guitar on its lap, with a hole in its head and a revolver hanging from its now limp hand. On the floor in front of the man was the body of a small boy, roughly 6 or 7 years old from the looks of the body. Nearby on the bed was a journal, which no doubt used to belong to the man. Though he could guess what led to this conclusion, Gin picked up the small book and began to read. 

Day 10, First Year in Omniverse

Well, this sure wasn't something I was expecting to happen in my life. But man oh man is this Omniverse place amazing! I've even managed to get my own place in a town owned by some company called 'Syntech'. I don't really know how dates work in this place, but I'll learn in time. 

Gin skipped ahead a bit to the man's third year.

Day 850, Third Year in Omniverse

By golly has it been three years? I've come so far since my meager days after my arrival. I've created my dream store, with all types of music, instruments, and outfits I can get my hands on. Achieving this was probably the best thing in my life. Well, was is the keyword here. I'm now happily married, which has since taken the spot as greatest thing in my life. Though I just found out we have something on the way that will be even better!

Day 1,144, Fourth Year in Omniverse

This really is the happiest day of my life, I have a son! I'm tearing up from all the joy I'm feeling. I can't write much now though, I have to spend time with him!

Day 2,920, Eighth Year in Omniverse

My son has grown up so fast, it feels like it was only yesterday that he came into my life. He's really taken a liking to my guitar, in fact he loves it when I play it for him at bed time. When I told him I'd teach him how to play it, boy you could see his mouth touch from ear to ear! He's such a chip off the old block!

Day 2,950, Eighth Year in Omniverse

Something's odd about the atmosphere lately. People have been disappearing and being generally cold to each other. I hope it's just nerves considering the time coming up is a busy one for us all. My son's been acting a bit strange too, says he's got a new friend he talks to through the omnillium we got in the house. I know kids get imaginary friends all the time, but I'm a bit worried, so's the wife. 

Day 2,980, Eighth Year in Omniverse

My son's infected, oh god, why did it have to be my son? My little Pauley Jr? They say children are the slowest to turn, so there's hope for him to be cured. Please any god in this universe, help my son. They've already taken my wife.

Day 2,985, Eighth Year in Omniverse

Final Entry

Some infected crazy attacked my son, and left him dying in my arms. As I held him, he told me he was tired and asked me to play my guitar for him. I did so with tears in my eyes, but at least he died with a smile. I can't go on any more. I just can't.

The entries stopped there. Gin set the journal down and clenched his fists in rage. It was just like back home, everyone losing someone, some killing themselves just so they didn't have to live with the torment. He didn't want any part of that anymore, but it kept coming back. He wanted to run away from here and never look back, but his legs remained frozen in place. His rage built up, not just at whatever caused all of this, but at himself for the way he had acted lately. What was the reason he joined the Reclaimation Squads to begin with? It was so his people wouldn't have to face this kind of thing on a daily basis anymore. Yet recently he had started running from anything that reminded him of home. It was then words he said to Bern in Darkshire echoed in his mind, 'Just because things look bleak, doesn't mean you should just give up. Some things are worth risking your life for.'

"I'm such a hypocrite, aren't I Bern? I should start practicing what I preach," He said to himself. He gave one last look at the bodies, and left the apartment with a new sense of determination. He was going to find the others, put an end to this madness, and then find a way home. He needed to get back into the fight. 

[Remilia Scarlet]

As the pintsized vampire plumbed through the many displays and shelves for a change of clothes, Remilia pondered on the new information that had been given to her by her redhead companion. It was obvious since the circus that the place was beyond the mere mundane insanity and seeped into the supernatural. But she didn’t have an idea of how steeped it was in the weird and wonderful until now. Was Omnilium the culprit for the state of this miserable island and the people that had been stranded on it? Gin had already been on about hearing thing when he had that ingot on him. She imagined their slow descent into dementia if they ended up trapped here like the others before them.

With such a future in front of them, Remilia resolved to escape. Even if she has to swim.

“Well isn’t this familiar” the vampire commented as she found herself yet again on her own exploring a tall and expansive building for something to cover her torn gown while Gin was left behind to fiddle with something. Much to her relief, though, nothing decided to respond back this time.

The music shop was not merely extensive, but thorough in its commitment to theme. Each floor did not just have merchandise and instruments for each genre, they had decorated each room appropriately to the era and each had a stage with dress mannequins “playing” the instruments. The classical section in particular brought some warmth to the little vampire as she thought about her first home, particularly the pipe organ that just begged to have a few bars played on. But none of the ballroom dresses were her size and she moved upstairs.

Eventually she found a t-shirt only one size bigger than her that wasn’t too unsightly (Eddie the Head, in particular, seemed to dominate the Rock section for a reason that the scarlet devil could not fathom), a black one with the Dark Side of The Moon design and a few paper clips kept her skirt up. Unfashionable to be sure, but it kept the draft out.

Once Remilia had her “masterpiece” finished, she heard the familiar boots of Gin stomp their way up the stairs. Loudly stomp, specifically. Any pretense of stealth had been apparently thrown away as the red hair fighter had taken some sort of purpose and threw everything behind it. The little vampire waited at the landing with her new shit and a few choice witty comments, but the man had passed by without a word, now with a flute bag tied to his waist, as he headed higher up. He really was serious. Not about to be left behind, she skittered close behind and wondered when he had suddenly taken his wheaties.

“So what is this plan?” Remilia finally asked after Gin kicked through a locked door at the last “customer” area which lead into a much more mundane area. Rows of offices and meeting rooms. Even a cubby with a coffee maker and water tank.

“There is still some power in his building. And there’s plenty of speaker. All we need to do is record a message with where to go and directions and play it on loop” Gin explained as he walked through one of the doors into a studio.


“Smart. Think anyone will believe us?” Remilia tried to find holes in the plan. Much as she’d rather not be here, she wouldn’t want Gin to fail when he needed it the most. This whole ordeal has made her appreciate that this odd human has stuck with her the whole time. Even when it would have been smarter to abandon her. And although she wouldn’t admit it if press, she did enjoy his company.


“Well, we believed the caller,” That was a long reach, but true nonetheless, “and besides, if we admit who we are, then they’ll probably remember us from the flight”

“Well, I kinda snuck in at the last second, so that would probably work better for you. How can I help?”

“We do need to move speakers where the sound can be heard” The redhead tried to sound more authoritative than he was so used  to, he saw the sudden fluster in Remilia’s face and the growing anger that followed.


“You really expect me to do the heavy lifting!?” Remila started, but was stopped when Gin faced her down. She didn’t expect this.

“I’m asking for your help. Please, Remilia” His voice was firm, and yet there was a soft urgency that the vampire would not fight against. She folded her arms, let out a small sigh, and gave every little show resistance she could. But she knew she was doomed from the beginning. She didn’t need the power of fate to see that.


“Alright, Gin, I can do that” Remilia caved, and saw a tiny smile on Gin’s face “And wipe that grin of your face or I’ll slap you a second time”

----

With a little bit of elbow grease and a some electrical help, Remilia had everything in place and wired up. As she scrounged through the building for any speaker, big or small, she thought about just how empty the place was of people. Or rather their bodies. Sure, there was evidence OF violence. But no bodies. But that was a thought for later.

“Alright Gin. Go for it!” She shouted up to the room above, and the message started to play. She looked outside, and saw shapes begin to move. Was that survivors already? But what little light revealed the silhouettes in the streets, flesh and bones twisted grotesquely, she saw that “survivors” was a far too kind word for them.

“We have company!” the scarlet devil shouted as she ripped a spell card from her pocket.

[Karl Jak]

End of Round 9

Colonel, Abner, and Trent stumbled out from the alley into a wider street.  The trio immediately heard what sounded like a younger man’s voice booming from down the road to their left.  After a few moments, they saw that it was coming from speakers outside a large building, but before they had much time to react, a chorus of wailing screams rose up in that direction.

Thoughts swirled in their heads as they realized that they had swarms of the creatures approaching from their rear and their right.  To their left, the mob seemed a little thinner, which seemed to have something to do with the flashes of red they could see in the distance.

***

Amber knew something was wrong.  She felt it burning in her veins within a few moments.  A horrible scream escaped her lips as she suddenly went still on the ground.

“Are you okay?”  Carmelita asked, concern evident on hear features as she maintained her grip on the weapon.  Amber didn’t move, and worse than that, the police officer noted the presence of blood starting to pool around her companion’s down-turned visage.  “Amber?”

Carmelita’s posture softened as she dropped the weapon and crouched down next to her friend.  “Amber?”  A response came when the back of Amber’s head smashed against the fox’s nose.  As Carmelita stumbled backwards, her hand clasped over her bleeding face, she looked up as Amber’s snapped apart the bindings and turned to face her ally.  The faunus was bleeding from her eyes, nose, and mouth as she snarled at Carmelita.

With a screech, Amber lunged at her friends throat.

Gin and Remi – Your sanctuary is undersiege.  Your recording was heard by Colonel, Trent, and Abner, who obviously can decide what they want to do.

Carmelita takes 1 point of accumulated damage.

Amber rolled a ‘3.’  You have two options – Die or Give in.  Dying will obviously kill you.  Giving in will finish Amber’s transformation in a ‘super’ ghoul.  It’s your call.  PM or Skype me.

[Amber Veritz]

The newly found ghoul charged at her former ally, caring not about their previous friendship. That shot had empowered her. The fuel burned her blood and strengthened her muscle. Now was the time. It was time to end their suffering on this island for good.

With a blood curdling howl, the faunus readied to engage her opponent with her claws. Blood red mist rained down in front of her as her screeching echoed through the hospital. Arturia might as well have been drugged, because even after that howl, she still laid on the ground with still breath. Carmelita on the other hand backed up quickly. “A-Amber! I don't want to hurt you! Please!” She forced herself to say reaching for the activator to her cloaking module. The faunus responded with quick movement, headbutting the fox in the stomach and slamming her up against the wall. Blood expelled from her mouth as the wall behind her cracked slightly. Restless was the ghoul who sought to end her former ally. Ruthlessly she charged again, using her knee to bashed her into the concrete, forcing the wall to break more. The officer yelled in sheer pain in response. “Amber...p-please! It’s me, Carmelita! Don’t you remember?!” She plead to the cat woman whose body continued to rot further.

...What...is that...sound? That voice...it’s Carmel..I'm killing her...I can't control my muscles.. Her sanity resided in the deepest part of her thoughts, she was forced to consciously watch one of the only two people on this island, who would have protected her, die by her own hands. It was like eternal torture.

The ghouls hand clenched Carmelita’s neck tightly. She gasped for air desperately. No! No, no, no! Her mind screamed to stop but her body disobeyed. Damn you! Fight it! The grip around Carmelita’s throat eased enough for her to slip out. Amber grabbed at her hair and pulled on it, like she was trying to fight with her own mind. She jerked around crazily, screaming and howling. The demonic voice would haunt the officer’s dreams for sure. “R-Run! Get away from me dammit!! RUN!! GRAAHHHH” Her agitated screaming finally awoke the knight, who was met with Carmelita shortly. “Come on! We got the bad one!”

“What?” Arturia gazed at Amber who was busy fighting with herself. “Come on! Let’s go!” Carmelita yelled and half-dragged the King of Knights as the two ran as fast as they could to the hospital exit. Soon, Amber’s body would won their fight. Having lost track of her late night snack, the ghoul headed for the exit quickly, and extremely starving for blood.

The pair of women who exited the hospital had rushed so badly, they’d forgotten about their secondary allies holed up across the street. When they had noticed the knight and cop running out of the hospital, they ran out of the building to catch up with them. “Hey wait for us!” Screamed one of the two.

The ghouls great hearing caught wind of a voice. “Fresh...meat…” She said as she rushed toward the sound without hesitation or care. The two secondaries, who were having trouble catching up to their prime allies fell prey to the faunus ghoul. She tore them apart severing all their limbs from their body in a gorish scene. Arturia and Carmelita could only hear the screams of terror and pain as their once ally ripped apart the two helpless people.

637/2400 Amber now a feral ghoul searching for blood. Carmelita and Arturia narrowly escaped her onsluaght, and the last two secondaries in our custody suffered at the hands of the faunus. She is now searching for someone to maul murderously. No hard feelings if I kill one of you guys right? :3 I CANT CONTROL MYSELF IM SORRY.

[Karl Jak]

The Amber-creature stood up from the half-eaten carcasses of the two secondaries and threw its head back in a guttural shriek. Its skin rippled as old wounds closed and battered bones were shattered and mended stronger than ever beneath the swirling flesh. Although it felt very little, the creature shuddered with agony amid the mutations that racked its form.

Its eyes fell to the ground near the corpses and saw that the familiar sight of Razoback. Had it subconsciously dragged the weapon along with it? A hand fell upon the handle of the weapon, and as fingers clenched around the handle, tendrils of flesh tore through Amber’s forearm and wrists. In moments, the blade was anchored to the former woman’s wrist as she rose to her feet.

The creature threw its head back with another vaguely Amber-sounding scream as its writhing flesh hardened into a shade of dull gray. Spikes of bone jutted out from its knuckles as new fangs forced out the once-faunus’ old set of teeth.

As it lurched forward, the ghoul realized it wasn’t alone. It looked around to see half a dozen or so shambling, demi-human beasts watching it. They were the same corrupted secondaries that roamed the town, but the bloodlust seemed to have drained from them as they recoiled from the ghoul’s red eyes. Standing up tall, the Amber Ghoul grinned as the other creatures followed her back into the town.

Carmelita suffered a Moderate Injury (4 points of Damage) from Amber.
Carmelita has two syringes that contain infection inoculations.

Amber is now 'Ghoul Amber.' PM Sent