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[5E IC] The Further Adventures of James and Illeana

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rednblack

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« Reply #45 on: <02-26-16/1143:33> »
"Nuh nuh nah, young lady," James scolds is his poor dwarf impersonation, grabbing her by the shoulder.  "You wouldn't think it, but them gator mommas get awful protective a'their hatchlings."

"Seriously, though," he adds in his normal voice.  "That claymore's making a big racket, and a mother gator can be as bad as a mother bear."  He glances down at the hatchlings.  They really are cute in a way when they're that size.  Their marble eyes look almost cartoony, and their little teeth don't look all that threatening.  "I'd rather the big one not try and dump us," he says, backing up the boat.

Illeana looks disappointed but defers to his wildlife knowledge, and James tries to occupy her with questions about the shambler snot.  "What do you think it may be good for?" he asks.  Knocking the piece of resin he adds, "Can't believe how hard this stuff gets.  Wonder how long it takes to set?"

James unhooks the ballistic mask from his belt, and slips it over his face.  He uses his select sound filter to focus on rustling noises, worried that another shambler -- or four -- might be close by in the canopy of the trees.
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Tecumseh

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« Reply #46 on: <02-29-16/0012:42> »
Illeana turns around and pouts. She's cute like this, but the impression only lasts a second. With the sound of metal being hole-punched, two half-meter tusks slam up through the aluminum bottom of the boat. In an instant, the boat is being propelled straight up in the air by a wave out of nowhere.

Instinctually, James activates his hydraulic jacks, which immediately kick him three meters straight up. Praise be, there's a sturdy branch that's just within reach at the top of his jump. He seizes it firmly and looks down. A behemoth - a beast that looks like the unholy offspring of an alligator and a hippo - sinks back into the sloshing waves.

Illeana managed to leap sideways out of the boat, landing on the tree that she had just chopped. She hugs it to avoid splashing back down in the water. James hears a guttural scream from Illeana that's quickly cut off. He looks for wounds or any source of pain but he doesn't see any.

<<@James [Illeana] Sorry! Freaked out about wrapping my arms around a tree. Thank Hecate I had a spell up for my allergy.>>

The tree looks slick and slimy and James wonders how exactly she's keeping her grip on it, given that she's got a meter-long sword in one hand.

James looks down. The boat is on its side, sinking into the mud and muck of the swamp. The behemoth is nowhere to be seen.

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« Reply #47 on: <02-29-16/1052:42> »
James pulls up on the branch with his arms, and wraps his legs up in a rope crawl.  When Illeana's safe, he'll worry about getting himself topside of the branch, but right now he's more worried about his vampire girlfriend out in a swamp, in the middle of the day, surrounded by trees to which she suffers a severe allergy, than the quality of his grip.  He resists the urge to call out to her, and comms instead.

<<@Illeana [James] Can your spirit fetch my sniper rifle?  I don't have anything heavy enough.>>

She answers via comm that her spirit has already committed itself to all the help they're going to get, and James answers that it can wait, and that she should get herself to safety before they worry about the hardware.

While Illeana begins to levitate herself up and away from the tree, James slowly and methodically rights himself on the branch so that he's looking down at the now still swamp water.  Their ship is capsized and sinking slowly.  Drek, what a mess.  At some point they'll need to deal with the ship's owner, and that nice little deposit that they had to leave, but for right now, survival trumps all.  They're in the middle of the swamp, no locomotion, surrounded by the signs of shamblers, and a mother behemoth just below the water's surface.  Add some witches who knows where, and they're pretty deep in the shit.

<<@Illeana [James] I think I took a wrong turn at that last toadstool.   :P  :-[  :o >>
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Tecumseh

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« Reply #48 on: <02-29-16/2128:06> »
<<Concentrating>>

Illeana closes her eyes - which seems rather unwise to James - but evidently it's what she needs to do to cast. She flashes, all the more brightly for being under the shade of the tree canopy. James' eyes scan the thick tangle of branches above him but don't locate any threats, nor even any heat signatures of curious observers.

Illeana starts to slowly detach from the tree.

<<Need to dismiss and resummon to fetch the bags>> she comms.

There's a soft THWIP that James can feel in his lungs. He realizes that the cool breeze has stopped, and has almost immediately been replaced by a massive influx of hot, humid air. His chameleon suit feels impossibly tight and sticky as he begins to sweat almost instantly.

There's another dull glow from Illeana, but this time it's more of a fizzle. James sees a few thick bubbles gurgle up from the depths.

The Desert Strike was designed for harsh environments, he thinks to himself. But this? He eyes the molasses beneath him uncertainly.

<<Drek>> Illeana comms.

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« Reply #49 on: <03-01-16/1207:19> »
From the canopy James readies his Ares Crusader II, and takes aim at the swamp water.  It'll probably just piss the thing off, James reasons, but with Illeana still so close to the water's surface, he hopes he might at least be able to distract it. 

Come on, come on, Illeana.  Little bit further now.  Come on, sweetheart.

He can feel the sweat running down his face from inside the ballistic mask, his boots are already getting soupy, but he tries to stay ready and focused should the behemoth surface again.
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Tecumseh

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« Reply #50 on: <03-01-16/2111:14> »
The behemoth lunges out of the water. Instead of snapping at James or Illeana, it attacks the tree where Illeana had already chopped out a piece. The behemoth latches onto the bark of the bald cypress and tears out half the trunk with one ferocious bite. James can only imagine with horror what that would do to a meta.

The tree lurches forward suddenly, threatening to topple James into the murky drink below. He latches on with all his strength and manages to stay attached despite the slippery bark and the Spanish moss. He quickly shimmies up the branch toward the trunk, thinking to leap off, presumably in a direction away from the behemoth.

"I have you!" Illeana shouts.

James feels a gentle tug, and suddenly realizes that he's weightless. The relief that he isn't going to immediately fall into the water is quickly replaced with the realization that the tree is still falling and might - in the course of its fall - push him into the water instead. He will have to dodge both the falling trunk and the tangle of branches on the opposite side of the tree, with their thick netting of intertwined Spanish moss, all without having any direct command of his movements. He wonders if he can 'swim' through the tree and moss as it falls. It's either that or it's into the bayou with the tree-chopping alligator.

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« Reply #51 on: <03-02-16/1352:00> »
As the behemoth settles back into the brackish water and the tree begins its descent down, James struggles to keep his grip on the tree branch.  He can feel his hands faltering, and his right comes away first with a fist full of moss.  Just in time he locks his locks his angles around the branch, and for a moment he's hanging straight down, looking into the swamp as it comes up at him -- or at least that's his perception.

"I have you!" Illeana shouts as he begins to right himself, and then feels his body lifting up.

He pops his cyber spur, and begins to scramble his way up the branch and toward the trunk, cutting vines, and digging the blade into the tree for more leverage as he races against its fall.  When he gets to the other side of the trunk, he pushes off on it, grabbing another branch, and hoists himself toward the sunlight he can see clearer and clearer by the meter.  So close.  Just a little bit more.
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Tecumseh

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« Reply #52 on: <03-02-16/1926:00> »
Illeana holds her sword up as the tree falls toward her. She uses the tip of the blade to pierce the thick netting of the Spanish moss, then twists and turns frenetically like a blender to clear a path through the branches and brambles. The ever-sharp sword makes quick work of the obstructions, and she finishes her flurry with a decisive upswing that lops off a thick branch in her way. She passes through the tree as it crashes into the swamp below. An ominous CRUNCH suggests that the wide, heavy base of the tree trunk might have landed on the overturned airboat.

She spins around, looking for James. "What the plan?!" she shouts, somewhat unnecessarily as the world is quiet except for the buzz of blood-thirsty bugs, the hiss of behemoth babies, and the gurgling of what used to be your transportation.

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« Reply #53 on: <03-03-16/1243:04> »
"What's the plan?!"

James mind races.  No boat, no rifle, no spirit support, the air is oppressively hot, and if not for his chameleon suit and ballistic mask, he'd be getting eaten alive right now.  No way out.  No way further in.  Just a lot of things that want to eat him, and then there's the witches to consider.  Out there somewhere, and if they're close, they've got to be aware of their presence with this racket, much less Illeana's shouting. 

Calm down, James.  He knows that his outlook now is more important than any gear, any weapons, any life-saving devices, and honestly any boat that they could have.  He needs to engender his will to live, and Illeana's too.  All is not lost.  We need a plan, and concrete steps to see it through.  We'll be fine.

<<@Illeana [James] Let's go back to communication protocols.  We don't know what else may be out here, and I'm uncomfortable enough being out in the open.  Can you get me to another tree so that you can stop keeping me in the air?  Next, let's try for another spirit.  Without my Desert Strike, my offensive capabilities are severely limited.  Cloud cover and a breeze would be just wiz too.  Next, we need a boat, or some way of moving around.  Playing Tarzan is going to tire me out to the point of being worthless pretty quickly, and it isn't much of an option for you.

We're pretty close still to the old timer, so another idea is to levitate ourselves back to him, and see if we have anything useful in trade.>>
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Tecumseh

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« Reply #54 on: <03-03-16/2019:07> »
James bursts through the moss with his spur extended in front of him Superman-style. He watches the tree fall beneath him and sees Illeana emerge not far away. They exchange a look as the tree crashes dramatically.

Illeana nods to the plan and seems to appreciate the notion of sitting down, even if it's in a tree. Illeana is apprehensive about trees, seeing as they cause her skin to warp and blister and eventually fall off. James wonders how she ever got into wood carving, concluding that she must have enjoyed it before her transformation.

After 30 seconds, Illeana sets them down about 10 meters up in a tree around 50 meters away. James wonders if the behemoth is following them. He knows behemoths to be intensely territorial, but perhaps they are unaccustomed to tracking their prey through the air.

Illeana drops the levitation spells while James debates the merits of his chameleon suit. Illeana isn't wearing any armor, which might not really matter given her immunity to disease and the behemoth's ability to bite trees in half. James looks at her tank top and shorts with envy while he considers whether breathing would be more comfortable if he switched to his internal air tank.

With some effort, Illeana finally manages to conjure a spirit that is willing to retrieve their belongings for them off the bottom of the swamp.

"Good news, bad news," she says once the spirit sends a mental report, momentarily forgetting about James' request for communication protocols. He shoots her a look and she switches to text. <<Our boat has been crushed like a beer can. But the mud and muck at the bottom of the swamp provided enough cushion that our bags just got squished instead of flattened.>>

There's an upwelling in the water, and then the bags reappear on the surface. They are dragged toward James and Illeana by some underwater force, and James prays that the behemoth doesn't take the bags as bait to bite.

The behemoth appears not far from the bags. It lunges after them, tearing along at maybe 10 m/s, a good clip. But the water spirit is in its element and flies along at 20 m/s, easily outpacing the awakened alligator. The spirit emerges from the water and ascends to the branch where James and Illeana are seated. While pleased with the delivery, James realizes that the spirit has basically led the behemoth to them.

James tears into the bags, which are full of brackish water, mud, and swamp weeds. He grips his Desert Strike and is delighted when his smartlink reticle chirps to confirm the connection. There's still gunk stuck in the barrel, but the electronics of the weapon seem to be unfazed by their submersion.

The behemoth charges the tree. James thinks he has about two seconds before it arrives at the trunk.

rednblack

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« Reply #55 on: <03-07-16/1058:08> »
James scrambles to get the Desert Strike out of the bag, his heart sinking as he sees the swamp water leaking from the barrel and ejection port.  Thankfully, the smartlink is working just fine, and he can see the reticle pop into his field of vision as the weapon comes online.  Here's hoping this thing doesn't blow up in my hands, he thinks as he nests the stock against his shoulder. 

<<@Illeana [James] Get ready to jump.>>

It wouldn't take long for James to feel confident in the firearm, just a minute or two really to clear the barrel, eject the magazine and chambered round, get a little air through the moving parts, but he doesn't have fractions of a second left to delay, much less minutes. 

<<Target 1: Estimated Contact in 0.57 seconds>>

To his left on the peripheral of his vision he sees Illeana fling a dagger down at the behemoth.  The beast attempts to dip below the surface of the water in its attempt to avoid the knife -- How does it even think to avoid something little like a knife? James wonders -- but the blade makes contact.  When it does, a fireball erupts from the point of impact, sending flames up into the tree. 

Simultaneously James lets loose with three rounds.  The first erupts from the barrel with a cough and sputter, clearing the barrel of the muck.  Who knows where that round ends up, but the other two strike home on a spot in the behemoth's back no bigger than the diameter of a credstick.  The behemoth halts its approach, or at least that's what it looks like to James, and it dives into the water.

A second passes.  Then another, and the tree holds firm.  No attack, no nothing.

<<@Illeana [James] Would a behemoth carcass be useful for your alchemy?  I worry about putting a bunch of blood in the swamp water, but we may have done that already.>>
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Tecumseh

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« Reply #56 on: <03-07-16/1525:02> »
Illeana sees the behemoth charging and hopes that she can buy James some time - even if it's just a second - to clean and ready his weapon. She has magic to bind men and monsters, but such a beast would rip through her spell like wet tissue paper.

If this doesn't work, there are grenades. Or I wonder if it would swallow me whole, blades and all? She hopes it doesn't come to that.

In a flash, she produces a throwing knife - the dented one that was banged up when the RV crashed back in February - and flings it at the behemoth. The knife skips off the keratin layer of overlapping plates on the dorsal side, bouncing away harmlessly.

"Bele se'Farad!" she shouts in Sperethiel to trigger the preparation, pointing for good effect. The knife erupts like an exploding gas can, the flames bursting forth and reaching the tips of James' boots. The wave of heat washes over the tree and James wonders, just for a moment, if Illeana might have ignited a patch of swamp gas that will conflagerate them all.

Illeana looks away, blinded by the thermographic blaze and mana flash. The flare comp in James' eyes kicks in and allows him to maintain his aim despite the distraction of the explosion.

The flames recede and James can see that the behemoth has barely slowed. The swamp water boils and burbles but otherwise does not detonate into a fiery hell of methane death. James takes that as his cue to fire.

The behemoth recoils from the armor-piercing rounds, shrieking and slapping the water with its tale. It dives beneath the surface, a thin hint of red trailing as it swims.

James looks over and sees Illeana eyeing the retreating behemoth with wide pupils. Is she licking her lips? he wonders to himself, seeing the desire in her eyes.

<<Oh, what I could do with those tusks>> she responds. <<I could enchant the téch out of those. Or even the claws. The gumbo I could make with its tail... the boots I could make out of that hide!>> James sees a wet gleam of light from the corner of her mouth and wonders if she is actually drooling.

She blinks and shakes her head and seems to compose herself. <<More practically, certain select parts might make for good offerings for any mystics we meet. Or they could be taken as a grave insult by women who consider themselves guardians of nature, who can say. I'm not really up to speed on my swamp-witch etiquette. I know I would appreciate them.>>

Edit: grammar
« Last Edit: <03-07-16/1710:03> by Tecumseh »

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« Reply #57 on: <03-07-16/1735:12> »
After the behemoth crashes into the water waves extend outward, washing the trees in muck and slime.  As it stills, James can make out the faintest ripples of the overgrown alligator's movements and a slight trail of blood that is leading back to her young.  Of course she is.  Good momma bear, that one.

<<@Illeana [James] Fair enough.  Let's see if we can get this thing.  I don't want to tax you too much, but do you still have eyes on those cute little babies?  If so, think you can put them airborne?>>

James sets his sights on the fallen tree.  If Illeana can get the little ones moving up, their mother will certainly surface again to rescue them.  Only this time, James will be ready.

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Tecumseh

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« Reply #58 on: <03-08-16/0023:39> »
Illeana spots the behemoth babies in the distance and levitates them. They squawk and look perplexed, their little feet and tails "swimming" in the air out of instinct.

Mama behemoth doesn't like that one bit and races for her offspring. Her tail thrashes the water into a blur of white water as she propels herself forward as rapidly as possible. James bides his time and waits for her to exit the water onto solid land. One she does, he knows her speed will drop and the odds of placing three shots with the tightest possible grouping will be much improved.

FFT FTF FFT! The suppressed Desert Strike hisses three times. The first sabot cracks the keratin shell. The second sabot shatters it, and the third plunges into the behemoth and races up her spine. She arches her back, then slumps into the damp mire beneath her.



It's night. Illeana has summoned another water spirit to conjure up mists for concealment and a steady breeze for comfort. The damp nature of the terrain makes the breeze almost uncomfortable, so Illeana has built a small fire. The wet wood smokes prodigiously.

"Is this wise?" James asks about the fire.

"The smoke will help keep the bugs at bay," Illeana says as she laboriously hacks away at the behemoth with her claymore. She stops to rest, blowing a strand of hair out of her face while leaning forward on the hilt of the sword. It promptly plunges into the spongy turf, almost causing her to somersault forward. She stands up straight, trying to play it off as intentional.

"Plus it's good for morale. And cooking dinner. And keeping shamblers at bay."

It's a spooky scene. The mists are thick just off the edge of their little island. Even with his enhanced vision, James can't see the sky, nor hardly any trees. It's like they are in a cave of clouds and shadows, the fire providing the only pool of light. As far as James knows, the rest of the world is gone, has ceased to exist.

Illeana is making slow progress on the behemoth. Even in death, its armor is almost too much even for her magically enhanced blade and magically augmented strength. At one point during the afternoon, James had felt eyes on his back. He spun around to find Illeana either staring at his butt or the smuggling compartment on the small of his back where he keeps his Redliner pistol. He could see her mental gears turning, thinking about how the laser could probably cut the beast effectively.

"Don't even think it," he warned her. She turned around and grumbled something about how she was the witch but James was the one reading minds.

As promised, the tusks and claws had come off first. She had split open the tail next, mostly to procure James' dinner. His rations weren't ruined but nor were they in great shape. He argued that the Rock Lizard Blood would make him immune to contaminants. She didn't disagree, but she argued that they should make the most of the meat while it was fresh. "Besides, when is the next time you're going to have fresh behemoth?" she asked.

"Tomorrow for breakfast from the looks of it," he muttered. ("Hey!" she objected, before conceding the point.)

The tail roasted over the fire. James pulled it off and looked around, wondering if he should just bite off a chunk.

"Here," Illeana said, gently tossing her survival knife to him. He catches it easily and uses it to start slicing off bites. The flavor is a bit dull, regrettably, due to the lack of herbs and spices.

The behemoth babies slept peacefully by the fire, oblivious of their new life situation. Illeana had fed them some spoiled rations, which they accepted with great delight. James wondered if it was possible for Illeana not to be maternal, even to little monsters.

"I feel like I grew up around animals," she says at one point, leaning up against James next to the fire. "No specific memories, mind you. It's just that animals feel... familiar. Cats, dogs, sure, easy. But I can also look at a horse or a cow and it doesn't seem weird or exotic." She pauses to pet one of the baby behemoths on the nose. Its eyes remain closed as its jaw opens in an apparent display of contentment. She stops and pats it on the back. It continues sleeping.

"We'll take them with us," Illeana says. "Might make for a good-will gift. Or, if we end up taking them back, then we might find a research institution or a zoo that's interested. In the meantime, Chombo, Crusher, and Allison stay with us."

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« Reply #59 on: <03-09-16/1350:19> »
"I feel like I grew up around animals," she says at one point, leaning up against James next to the fire. "No specific memories, mind you. It's just that animals feel... familiar. Cats, dogs, sure, easy. But I can also look at a horse or a cow and it doesn't seem weird or exotic."

As James sits cleaning his Desert Strike he resists the urge to make a comment about witches and familiars.  Just what we need, a little behemoth that grows into a monstrous behemoth, skulking around and sharing its thoughts with my vampire witch girlfriend.  Does it really work like that?  James allows himself to daydream for a moment, thinking of all the old witch cliches, real Halloween drek, and comparing it to the Illeana that he knows.  Big wart and cronish appearance?  Nope.  Far from it.  Black pointed hat?  More like a high-tech ballistic mask hidden beneath some other, and always pleasing visage.  She certainly doesn't need a broom to fly, but eye of newt, eating metas, sacred full-moon nights, well all those hit a little close to home.

"What are you over there smiling about?" Illeana asks.

"Will you do something for me?"

"Umm, sure?"

"Will you say, 'Double, double, toil and trouble?"

"Dork."
she responds playfully.

"Come on, look around.  It'd be romantic," he answers. 

Despite the bland taste of the behemoth, and how the fire sets him into coughing fits whenever he gets a lung full, he's in much higher spirits.  Sure, there are other, potentially much more Hansel and Gretel-esque witches around, and sure he has no idea how they're going to get out of here, but for tonight, for right now, they're in one piece with full bellies.  Things could be much worse.

"We'll take them with us," Illeana says. "Might make for a good-will gift. Or, if we end up taking them back, then we might find a research institution or a zoo that's interested. In the meantime, Chombo, Crusher, and Allison stay with us."

"That's probably wise," James concedes.  "If momma was under their charge, the fact that we saved her babies could go far.  If not . . ." he lets the thought trail off as strokes the back of Allison, or is this Crusher?  He could rationalize killing the adult, even if she was protecting her progeny.  He'd be watching his back for the rest of the trip, and if it got the drop on either of them, well even Illeana's regenerative abilities wouldn't save her.  But he would hate it if some harm came to the babies.

No, that's not quite right.  Hate is too strong a word.  He would be discontented.  It would seem senseless.

James sets the Desert Strike against the tree, and pulls out the medkits and slap patches.  "What a mess," he murmurs to himself, as he switches to his low light vision.  Even that's pushing it on this starless night, and he begins to inspect his gear, seeing what can be salvaged, or spliced together.
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