|
Post by Portal on Apr 26, 2014 5:07:15 GMT
It's been so long since he has attended such a festival. So long indeed as the time he spent Alvengard never had such an event in the time he has lived there.
“Chrome. Record.”
Chrome, using voice recognition, immediately moved down to the crowd. The little machine moved aimlessly, sometimes above, sometimes around, and sometimes even though their legs. It wondered through the crowd, capturing every moment with a flow that seamlessly came together as a video. Chrome moved around with enough speed to not be caught, hit against, or be bumped by anything. As it used calculations, and movement predictions to course out it's path, as it records the beautiful event. From taking moments of those that smiled, laughed, and dance, to capturing those that held tears with faces of sadness and pain, Chrome scattered around to capture every one. Even catching a glimpse of the queen with a stranger, which Chrome immediately captured due to facial and voice recognition during her speech. Yet he stopped, he stopped short and moved quickly back to Calvin.
“ALERT. ALERT. ALERT. Large massive energy core is storing up. Explosion bound to happen. No time for evacuation, please prepare for explosion.”
“What.... what do you mean Chrome?” Calvin expressed almost in complete fear. Then he saw it, saw it slowly starting to happen. Chrome quickly opened a hologram, a visual representation of the Renmin Square with a large glowing circle in the visual. It showed what would happen in the next minute, as it burst with light and showed the aftermath. The total death count, the wound count, the buildings post explosion, and even had a list of those that wouldn't make it by name accompanied with faces that were recently recorded.
With this in mind, Calvin looked around quickly. How do I...where... That is when he had noticed the building he was sitting atop on the whole time. It was an apartment building, filled with people as they sat on their porches and balconies watching the event happen from one of the best aerial views. I need to save... Without finishing his thoughts, he jumped straight down from the building, as he called upon his magic to help him. Titled to being a Conjurer, he specialized in creation and teleportation magic. He created stone blocks to jump onto from the roof as he descended quickly, the stones disappearing and reappearing one after the other once he got off of each one. Something this large I can't teleport...then... By outstretching his hands, he created a multiple layers of concrete walls right in front of the building just before the impact. The explosion hit him hard. The walls only protected the building from the shock wave that was brought about from the explosion, but not everything around it. Only being able to save one thing at a time, Calvin covered his eyes as he braced himself by making an X like pose with his arms, leaning slightly backwards on his left foot. His walls crumbled, all of them, only to disappear again. His eyes, hidden behind the wall previously saw a place with life, now saw a place with death. In such an instant, the place that held such a wonder atmosphere, has turned completely over as if the men who built this city and died for it came back to take their lives again to live in a city they worked for. The people in the apartment cried, and screamed. The women and men stood there almost in disbelief. Then it hit them, as the moved quickly down their flight of stairs to help those that were injured. They moved individuals quickly into the only building that seems to be operational and nearby. Fire consumed the buildings, many of those that could tried to put it out. Buckets filled with water were not going to be enough. Calvin looked around, and thought for a second. Rain. He held his hands together, raising it to the sky and shot a blue flare of energy up into the sky. As it slowly spread out through the square, the citizens perplexed by it slightly and afraid of what is going to happen coward a bit. Then the blue aura, turned into clouds. Clouds that brought rain, and the crowds were no longer scared, but now thankful for the fire is now taken care of. But the people still had to be taken care of.
Medics. Where are they? He questioned the fact that the mages were not immediately deployed into the field. Where are the men that accompanied the event? The soldiers, the mages? Where did they all go?
“Chrome, scan area.”
“Area scanned. The magic level in this area has diminished highly. The mages that you speak of are no where to be found in this area. Those that have the ability too, are hidden, wounded, or dead. As the body count of deaths are high, but the count of wounded are extremely high. Almost about eighty percent of the population that attended the event are wounded or killed. Suggesting medic bots to be deployed sir.”
“The bots? The bots...Oh! Right!”
Calvin had prototypes before Chrome. They were generally made to benefit the army, and deploy quick small scaled flying robots that had the capabilities of healing minor injuries, and sometimes even perform surgery on the spot if accompanied by more than three bots. He had about twelve in his room. Calvin crouched down and laid his hand above the ground. He started to envision the bots, as he pictured all of them to appear where he currently stood.
“M-Bot 1 Operational....M-Bot 2 Operational...”
“Chrome, organize these bots and coordinate them. You'll command them for me. For now I'll go and help carry others here, please attend to the wounded.”
“As you wish sir.”
His bots attended to those that were critically wounded that were carried and prepared for in the rooms of the apartment housing complex. Chrome organized and planned out how to prepare, where to set, as well as orderly organizing the people themselves. As the medic bots attended those through the methods of using pinpoint accuracy to burn/seal the skin of open wounds, as well as healing them instantly by applying transmutation magic of regrowth of the skin. Limbs that were lost could not be created at the time. Calvin moved to help carry the bodies in, as his magic was occupied with the storm clouds. With the rain dousing the fire, it could not stop the ones that will forever be lit to those that were heavily affected on this day.
|
|
|
Post by Sol on Apr 26, 2014 22:28:12 GMT
While many were still in shock, Masato’s men of the Avalon City Guard made quick work of the aftermath. A response team arrived on-scene and quickly erected a set of tents for medical care, further aided by a man utilizing medical bots. Taiji made a mental note to have a word with him when this was all said and done. Taiji experienced several moments of shock in which he left full command to his Director of Defense. It was only as a woman, one he recognized as the witnessto her brothers death was wrapping bandages around his face, covering the damaged skin and nerves of his left eye. He weakly held his arm aloft for treatment, his face impervious to the pain. For a few moments, the Mayor of Avalon retreated deep within himself. It was disorienting, to only see with one eye the damage that had been wrought to his beloved city – on this day, which should have held a different kind of sorrow alongside celebration.
When he could form sentences, they sounded to his ears like requests – not like the commands of a capable leader.
“My family -- “ Taiji said weakly, forgetting that the Unum name was shared by Masato, even if they were more distant cousins. “Have they been found? And we need to – find out who did this – and free medical treatment, for the civilians – food, if we can still get it to them, a reward for anyone who knows anything --”
These were jumbled, absent thoughts. Taiji closed his good eye. The other one, behind a layer of gauze, was already wrapped in darkness. Although leader of Avalon, and trained in swordsmanship his whole life, Taiji had never seen battle. He had never seen such violence and gore. His good eye fell on the girl.
“The bodies,” he said. “What will we do with the bodies?”
Yijing Unum awoke with no breath in her body, and ash in her mouth. She coughed and hacked, gasping for air. Smothered, all she could taste was smoke. A shattered beam, from the observation platform, was at her back. Something covered her body. She moved – first her fingers, then her toes – and then felt that above her was the weight, somehow familiar, of flesh.
Turning her head, she opened her eyes to her mother’s face. Weihai Okamura’s eyes were open. There was no life in them.
Yijing’s fingers checked for a pulse at her mother’s pale throat. Nothing. Weihai’s skull flopped on its slender neck in Yijing’s hands. She stared for a moment at her mother’s perfect features. The almond eyes, honey colored. The bowed lips. The delicacy of nose and brow that was sometimes remarked upon in her own appearance. The life that had dwelled there was gone. Yijing sat up, cradling her mother’s small form in her arms. She did not look at the broad plain of burned flesh and charred black kimono that was her mother’s torso and back. Moving aside the rubble of broken boards, Yijing placed her mother face-up, so that the world would see the undamaged part of the shell Weihai had once inhabited.
She did not scream. Gently, she closed her mother’s eyes, and then stood on shaking legs. Breathe.
Everywhere was chaos. Bodies, flames, debris, water, people wielding magic. Yijing had stood beside her mother and brother during the ceremony. Her last memory was watching the set of fireworks in the sky, and then the explosion, and her mother’s sacrifice to save her. Years of training kicked in. Yijing’s hand went to the slender katana that was still belted to her waist. She drew the sword, and held it with both hands. Her hair, once drawn in an ornamental design above her head, hung down in ragged tatters. Her dress was ripped at one shoulder.
“Here! Over here!” A voice shouted, and several men came running towards her, shields on their arms.
With a flick of her wrist, Yijing’s blade sang in a figure eight before her, stopping the City Guard in their tracks a few feet away. They were among the surviving forces in Renmin Square who, at Masoto’s command, were clearing the area.
After a moment of stalemate, one of the men stepped towards her. With an almost feral look on her face, she didn’t move an inch.
“Ma’am,” he ventured. “Ma’am, I know this has been a traumatic time, but if you could just – put down – the sword –”
“Where is Taiji?”
“There,” the Guard said, pointing to the emergency medical tent that had popped up near the exit of Renmin Square. The Guards were already hustling people back to their homes, and crews had begun to clear bodies from the scene.
In the square was a great black mark, a crater in the cobblestones. Great cracks had split from it, snaking outwards. Nothing remained of the lotus pyre. The structure had been blown to bits, the largest chunks of wood hurled into nearby buildings or the crowds. Yijing’s eyes remained on it for a long moment, and turned to the men.
“His wife, Wehai Unum, is here,” Yijing said. She pointed to her mother’s body, positioned gently atop the rubble. “And his son, Laozi?”
“Many of the Unum's are missing,” the Guardsman said. “Miss, if you’ll please –“
In a fluid movement, Yijing leveled her sword at them. Her eyes flicked from one face to the next.
“Stay back,” she commanded. “Look for the boy. Tell Taiji Unum his daughter lives. Bring him his wife. If you come near me, if you so much as place one foot behind me, I swear to the Mother I will add your bodies to today’s count.”
By the edge of her blade or her words, the Guardsmen didn’t react. She took this as dumbfounded acquiescence. In large steps, she moved over the rubble and onto the cobblestones. Her sword lowered to her hip, facing outward. Yijing didn’t walk to the tent where she knew her father still lived. She walked, instead, into the black scar on Avalon's face – the place where the pyre once stood, where something had hidden which had caused so much destruction.
|
|
|
Post by Sirius on Apr 27, 2014 2:22:01 GMT
At first, the gentleman could not find his former companion in the array of death and chaos. He briefly caught eye of armed guardsmen scanning the scene, likely searching for survivors and helping the wounded to the medical tents that had been built in a rush. The grim scene was still as gruesome and sorrowful as it could possibly get. But at least people were acquiring the needed help. Mahlo briefly glanced up to the skies. Once an array of beautiful stars in a clear night sky, now covered with black smoke. The celebration for a fallen man had transformed into the sorrow of thousands.
The male was brought out from the brief daydream by a hand on his shoulder. Out of instinct and being on edge from the whole situation, his emerald orbs darted over his shoulder in preparation to attack, his fists clenching. Before he could lift his fist to make any sort of hit, however, he took notice that it was in fact the companion he was initially looking for. Jericho.
A slight smile crossed his lips for a mere moment. “I would say it is a little bit of both, friend.”
He turned around fully, looking out to find both Jericho and the beautiful lady in the black dress that had been there only moments earlier. Then he heard Jericho.
Identity? His eyes examined the woman in the dress. Why in the gods would a priestess need to keep her identity a secret? The woman in the black dress seemed to hold more secrets than Mahlo initially thought.
His green orbs traced back toward Jericho, noticing him just as he jumped into the crater that the brunt of the explosion created. Moments later, he seemed to come out from the deep crater with ease, a glinting metallic substance in hand, and landed with a light flutter. It seemed as though this hickibilly was not of the norm either. Mahlo could relate.
The gentleman listened intently to Jericho as he told them about the unknown object, and just how it related to the attack that had fallen onto Renmin Square. His eyes then looked to Mahlo himself.
"I could use a helping hand with this investigation. Don't look like nobody else is pitching out trying to find the attackers. You coming with us?"
The male in the three piece suit looked down at himself. His suit had been ruined by the explosion. Patches on his arms and torso were completely burnt to ash, and the bottoms of the dress pants were ripped. Mahlo was usually a fair man in terms of battles and the like. The fact that many were killed by this explosion AND his suit was ruined, was more than enough reason for him to find whoever did this and give them the justice they so rightfully deserve.
His lips curved upwards into a smile. “Count me in. I am not the average joe either, so I can help you out.”
|
|
Aldrid
Nu Guardian
"Bitch, I'm a bus."
Posts: 26
|
Post by Aldrid on Apr 27, 2014 21:27:32 GMT
Basil frowned with worry at the man's reaction, seeing how jumbled and confused his thoughts must of been. She couldn't blame him - his city was in ruins, and from the looks of it is family too. At least they had something in common. She looked over her shoulder back at the chaos and pandemonium. Her stomach clenched tightly, and she had to clamp tightly down on the side of her cheek from dismaying at the horrors. The people needed to know their leader was alive and well, but like this he was no good to anyone. Taking a moment to calm down and think, she remembered what her parents had done in the event of a fire that once swept through their little hamlet of a home many years before, killing most of their livestock, and some of the folk who lived there, "Sir, you need to realize you're in shock." She carefully lifted his arm over her shoulder and stood up with a grunt, hoisting him to his feet and tested her weight with him hanging on her. Hopefully he wasn't too badly injured. "You need to sort out the dead from the living, and get anyone who is injured into medical care," She was careful to answer his questions, grimacing at the memories of how her father and the other people of the community had spent days sorting out and cleaning up the mess. The more she spoke, the more sure she felt about what she was saying though she already knew that he was a smart man and would quickly catch on. If he didn't figure it out, then he would come to quickly enough - unless he cracked under the trauma and pressure or hit his head or something. "The dead will be organized and put to rest. You can hold a public service, and I'm sure that crater over there could be redecorated as memorial of sorts." It felt all so surreal. It was almost a cruel joke, something laughing at her and all these poor people. She noted a young man lamenting over the death of a child. She stumbled on past the many bodies without a word. The people who had managed to recover were starting to come back now, picking among the corpses for their loved ones and falling to their sides, weeping over them and trying to check if they still lived, as if their hope alone would be enough to bring them back. It was a sad reality to face. "Who is in charge after you? I can find this person... see if they are okay," Her words felt heavy in her mouth, and muffled as she spoke them. It was too much. There was so much tragedy, and she couldn't break. This world would not break her - but how does someone come back from this? It was hell on earth. Basil was distracted from everything going on, though set her self to finding her way to the medical pavilion. She deposited the man in the care of some of the staff that had managed to rally together. They quickly took him without thanks, ushering Taiji over to a quiet corner of the tent. With a frown, she watched as they fawned over him, checking his bandages, and looking for any internal injuries that Basil was not equipped to help with. Though he was important, there were others in greater need. She didn't wait to be asked. Dropping her bag out of the way, she quickly set to work helping take care of the injured folk that were streaming in. She was truly glad she had spent those years with her father as he taught her his trade from before he was a farmer. He had been a soldier, and a trained physician, and when his children were born he was strict to instill the discipline of medicine into both of them. Basil's brother was a klutz though, and always fumbled the needle, but Basil had a steady hand and nimble fingers that were perfect for this line of work. No one asked questions at her presence, and frankly she didn't care to answer any. If she received funny looks, she simply told them off with a glare. Like the rest she was quickly overwhelmed by people tugging and begging her to look after someone. She did what she could though, prioritizing those who had the highest chances of survival. Basil shot a look over at their mayor ever so often, expecting him to do what most great men did in these situations; take control of the situation, rally his people, and organize some sort of effort. Most of the screaming had stopped by now, falling to whimpers and moans, the only thing louder than their laments was the sounds of pain from those who couldn't suffer in silence. Medical staff was being refreshed every few hours, giving reprieve from the grueling tasks set before them, but there was no one to take Basil's place and it was quickly weighing on her. She was agitated and her body ached, but most of all she was tired and wanted to rest. There had been enough death for one day... no one would blame her for taking a step back, right? Had she done enough for these miserable, thankless people?
|
|
|
Post by Alchemist on Apr 28, 2014 23:08:47 GMT
Jericho and Mahlo’s voices were thick and muffled, and the screams of the townsfolk swallowed her ears.
Why?
The ferocity was accompanied with a mixed sense of despair that threatened to leave her numb under the night sky.
What could they do? She asked herself that question repeatedly, looking over the fire and smoke. What could they do?
Tiny mechanical creatures began to appear and help the weak and wounded, aiding them with gentle nudges to houses that were obviously going to be for medical and relief purposes.
The small bots would make the world of a difference in this time of crisis… The scene released the tight ball of emotions forming in her chest.
‘My people will be fine… I am needed elsewhere…’, she thought, beads of sweat covering her dark colored brow.
Slowly, the Priestess observed the damage control and tuned into Jericho’s theories; it was obvious he was more than a decent dancer that smelled sweetly of the country side.
“I’m coming with you.”
|
|
|
Post by Faustus on Apr 30, 2014 0:37:06 GMT
“Count me in. I am not the average joe either, so I can help you out.” Jericho pondered on the words 'not the average Joe' for half a moment. "Well alrighty, then. We startin' us up a detective agency or sumfin', I tell ya' what." Jericho looked him up and down. He knew looks could be decieving. Hell, he was livin' proof o' that. "I reck'n you know your way round one o' these, right?" He handed Mahlo a knife with a star crusted, ornate hilt, and a shimmering blade. It definately wasn't from around these parts. It's short blade gave off chills that could be used as an AC in hundred degree wheather. "I don't like haffin' to resort to violence, but I don't think the guy who did this will be the 'turn the other cheek' type, catch m'drift? I sure as hell ain't. I don't like to stick pigs, but when I do, I do it good and deep, ya' hear?" He plopped the chunk of uru in the satchel that hung loosely from his waist. It survived the blast but was tattered and torn. The chunk fell in, and didn't even disturb the bag or seem to weigh it down, and by the looks of it, it had to weigh at least five pounds. It disappeared into the pack, and Jericho closed it with a click. He turned his attention to the disguised Queen. She was looking out over all the destruction that lay before her. Jericho never had the burden of political power, nor the teachings of a priesthood, but he understood them thoroughly. Between her natural affinity for life, and her care for the Great City, he could only imagine her suffering. He nodded to Mahlo, pardoning himself, and went to rest a reassuring hand on Kayana's shoulder, but before he could finish the action she whirled around, taking him by some sort of surprise. Jericho shined a bright smile, that was even whiter in contrast now that his face was splotched with ash and soot. "Well good, then, Kira. Glad to see you steppin' up. We might need your fancy healin' magic and whutnot." "Now, then-" Jericho was about to gather his thoughts and prepare to move out, when a wayfaring stranger entered his groups midst, cutting him off prematurely. He was a lithe fellow, dressed for some grand occasion, though one couldn't tell it now that it was torn and sundered pretty damn good. His hair was matted with dust and ash. I don't know what you're up to, but I'll assist with anything to find the bastards that must have done this." "Good t' see the community pitchin' in," he said with a heavy country accent, and a smile "name's Jericho. Now," He dropped the guise of pleasant formalities, and took on a colder tone. "You willin' to do anything? I intend to find the culprit or culprits and turn em' over to the law, but I ain't scared to dust off this old blade," He patted the hilt of Sally with his palm twice, hanging loosely from his right side. "and stick the old bastards if they draw on me. On that note, welcome to the fold." He gave Mark's hand a firm, brusk shake. "Now I'ma need quiet for a good minute or so. A place to gather my thoughts." Jericho sauntered over a few yards to one of the charred remains of what used to be a home. He entered, plopping himself down away from prying eyes, and a little out of earshot from all the screaming and confusion, he sat in the center of where the living room would be, legs crossed Indian style, forearms outstretched across his legs, hands turned upward with either thumb meeting either middle finger; meditative state. In the quiet, pushing out distractions with disciplined resolve, Jericho began to whisper to himself. Quick, inaudible, and from the looks of it, unintelligible words that carried power even when they were not heard. Power emanated from him although it could not be seen, and his mind had become detached from his body. He now stood, whispy and azure, staring at his own body, the world about him pale and surreal. He watched the past happen before him, as the energies of the peoples memories played out like a song before his eyes. Everything returned to how it was before the bright light and the chaos that ensued. Everyone was still making in the merry, and Taiji was still on horseback. Jericho's eyes were focused for something he hadn't noticed before. Something that stood out, or much more likely, didn't. Then he found it. Within the crowd, a shrouded man, hooded and cloaked brought his hand to his ear, and then appeared to speak with himself for a brief moment, before running off into the alleys, accompanied by two other men. Some form of non-magical communication, no doubt. Jericho came railing back into his physical body, sweat beading heavily from his cheeks and brow. He sat up weakly, regaining himself. Divination wasn't his specialty by any means, but he dabbled in it, and could see the past memories of anyone and everyone who did not afford an anti-magic barrier. It was more taxing for him then it would be for say, Kayana, a trained diviner and priest. But he had an eye that she didn't. An affinity for detail and minute changes. He turned his attention back to his group. "I got us a lead. We gotta' get moving. Now."
|
|
|
Post by Portal on May 2, 2014 4:20:50 GMT
Heavy. Bodies were heavy to carry, as Calvin lugged them in one by one. Those that were dead he carried, those that were alive had a higher priority. He was handling the whole situation on his end. As he looked around to see how things were going, he noticed a man occupied with the guards.
“I'm guessing the authority finally decided to work today. Well then...”
Calvin noted the fact that he would have more help, or really he would be helping them. Sooner or later, someone is going to have direct control of the situation that is happening currently as he continued to carry on what he was doing. The citizens of Avalon were devastated almost completely, but they couldn't mope around and let fear consume them.
Throughout the day, Calvin had been given orders to the people, especially those in the complex. He organized small parties, designations for dead bodies and setting up rooms for the injured using the complex. As the rooms slowly filled up, he took another look around to watch the fire that lit the city. The fire was extinguished, allowing him to stop with the clouds. The rain that down poured onto the faces that covered their tears, no longer was there to be a mask for the people. Now, the people have a hardened face on. A face that only those that have seen death can have.
Space was running out, Calvin knew of this. As the night continues on, he wondered about where the people themselves would sleep in. All the buildings in the vicinity are destroyed, or at least to the point where it's not possible to live in them currently. Without hesitation, Calvin cleared the space, and used the materials to create more apartment complexes, as well as a newly refurbished hospital. Almost draining him completely of his magic.
“Here sir. Drink this.”
Chrome, his robot, came up to him and popped out a little squirt bottle. The bottle was engineered for him to replenish some of his magical abilities, enough to take off the effects of fatigue but not enough for him to use magic for a few days. As he was drained to almost the point of exhaustion, the one squirt of the liquid made him stand on his feet firmly, but powerless. The people cheered in the new housing areas, as well as the hospital. This enhanced the chances of survival to those that were able to live through the blast itself. With new hope, the people moved even faster and with harder dedication.
“Thanks Chrome.”
Calvin took a breath, as he went back to helping out the citizens with the bodies. Through all the midst of the chaos, Calvin had forgotten something. His team. What happened to them? All of them? A group of five were originally sent to repair a railing, and what was interesting is the fact that these five were selected. Usually a job of this caliber really only requires two to three people, but sending five seemed to be highly unusual. But as all the members arrived from Alvengard, nothing could go wrong right?
|
|
|
Post by Sirius on May 5, 2014 20:49:15 GMT
Mahlo could detect in the facial expressions of Jericho that his sentence was taken into account for a moment, before he was given a response. By the way he was now looking the charred suited gentleman up and down, it was obvious that his looks were becoming more deceiving than he thought. He mentally chuckled to himself at this.
Suddenly, a cold hilt was placed within his right hand. His emerald gaze fell down to the object. A flawless knife, with a shimmering blade that he could see his own face in, and a hilt adorned with elegant designs. The amount of time that had to have been taken in creating this was unimaginable. It certainly was not from around here. Mahlo’s gaze raised upwards towards Jericho once again. The mental chuckle within himself came out into the real world.
“Of course I know how to use one of these, my friend,” He replied, wrapping his hand around the hilt and taking another look at the phenomenal designs, as well as the beautiful reflection that told good signs of how he could utilize it, “This blade may help me, in more ways than one.”
He then turned over to the beautiful priestess before him, who seemed to have the adamant desire to join them in their attempt to find the culprit of the heinous attack that had befallen the city of Avalon. He gave her a quick, probably unnoticed, reassuring smile, before turning back to the task at hand.
As Jericho decided to go to a quiet place to gather his thoughts, probably think of where the culprit could be or use one of his powers unbeknownst to him to figure out a lead. In the meantime, his gaze fell back onto the blade. He had one reflected object, now he just needed another…
He felt rain drops crash onto his bare skin. At first, only one by one, but soon they became more frequent, as the rain grew stronger and more consistent, turning into a moderate drizzle. The raging fires began to weaken, or even go out completely in the wake of it. Not only was the rain good for the city, but it was beneficial to Mahlo as well. If he could just find some puddles…
His attention came back to Jericho once his country drawl entered his eardrums once again. He turned towards him, obvious signs of stress bearing on him from the noticeable sweat and look of weakness. He nodded at his request.
“Make sure you tell me when we’re getting close, I’ll take point.” He replied.
|
|
|
Post by Sirius on May 5, 2014 21:30:09 GMT
It took him some time. Some time and effort to regain control of his own emotions. Emotions that had been stored within himself for a long time. He intended to keep those emotions stored, but witnessing your own flesh and blood die in your arms, half of his body gone and the other half almost completely charred, was enough to bring out a person’s emotion full force.
Logan sat there on the cobblestones, next to his brother, staring into Marcus’ glossy eyes void of any life force. He was always so full of life and harmony. So full of energy, one that he could never compete with. The child filled with the most life, had lost it, so ripe in his age.
Why could it not have been him? Or somebody else’s child? Why did the fates have to take him away? Had his life not been destroyed enough? Had his entire family not been through enough pain and turmoil? All of these questions deep within his psyche, never to be answered once in the entirety of his life, constantly ripping away at his sanity.
It felt like he sat there amidst the fire and whimpers for help for hours. In reality, it was only a couple of minutes. Even as the paramedics took Marcus and brought him into the tent to make any attempt to revive him, Logan still sat there. On his knees, now looking at the dirty ground. His eyes were filled with sadness, his face streaked with dry tears. If it was not for the children, unconscious next to him, he would not have made any movement.
The children.
He snapped out of his slump, turning his head towards Loretta and Joey, who were sprawled out next to him, luckily still unconscious. The reason he felt lucky by that grim fact, was that they would not be able to feel all of the pain of waking up, at least not yet. He turned his body fully to the two mildly burnt children, and stood up once more, wincing due to the burns and wounds, but pushing through it. He bent over, scooping up one child in each of his arms. His head wound had stopped bleeding so fluidly, but the ache was still severe. His body, riddled with burns, screamed in agony. And yet, he now only cared about the safety of the only two living children. He slowly moved his feet, making his way from the spot he was situated in and towards one of the many medical tents that had been rapidly set up across the square. His breathing grew heavy as the mental and physical pain made him weary. The drizzle and pour of raindrops alleviated some of the burning sensation he was feeling, but it did not help much. He walked past the dead corpses, the whimpering people who were being picked up and treated as best as they possibly could be. It seemed as though the tent was a mile away. Or maybe that was his own state of mind.
It took some time, but he made it to the tent, where he was quickly met by medical personnel. He almost ignored everything that was said to him, his hearing not only declined from the deafening blast, but also that he did not feel like listening. He pushed the two sleeping children into their hands.
“Take..Good care of them,” He said, his words slurred.
“Sir…We need to take a look at you as well,” Replied one of the medical staff.
“N..No! At least…check on them first, and then worry about me.”
It suddenly happened. All of the burns, the aches, the searing pains. It all came crashing into him like a freight train. He suddenly fell forward. The medical personnel attempted to catch him, but he had already landed face first onto the floor. The exhaustion had finally overtaken him. His body was too exhausted, physically and mentally, to be able to do anything more productive. His consciousness was quickly lost. He passed out, listening to the pitter patter of the calming rain onto the heinous scene.
|
|
Benny
Nu Guardian
Posts: 1
|
Post by Benny on May 9, 2014 2:40:10 GMT
After a few days wandering Benny eventually happened upon a city (Avalon), finally, a chance to converse with people, instead of Brain Pong, which rapidly becomes less enjoyable by the moment.
"People!" he shouts, overjoyed to see that the people of this world are also humanoid.
Benny Checks his bag, pulling out a Cigar he Sparks it with his Zippo, He inhales, reminded of all of the Cigars before, also reminding him how much he missed Stu,
That crazy bastard, I wonder how heaven is treating him?
"God that feels good" He says, breathing out smoke.
Ironically, the smoke was what drew Benny to this City, Looks like a calamity hit here, Maybe a giant Cyclops?, or maybe some kind of angry God?, This could be the shortest cycle Benny had ever encountered.
He steps through the crowd, hood up, attempting to avoid the attention of any merchants before he gets to the nearest bar, time to taste the local liquor, being Multiple Galaxies and/or dimensions from your family will do that to a man, the nightmares brought about by the recently re-acquired need to sleep makes alcohol consumption a necessity, For the messed up, truly horrific things Benny had seen in his life, one could only imagine what happens inside his head.
This was truly the strangest city Benny had ever seen, With what looks like new age architecture... but, something about this city felt old, Very old...
Hearing the loud roars of drunken laughter nearby, Benny is ecstatic, he only hopes there is no smoke restrictions indoors.
"Finally!, a bar!" he shouts, forgetting he is no longer alone in the middle of nowhere.
He checks his back, just in case, it was now habit, checking to see that his weapon was easily accessible, he lowers his hand into his pocket, instantly feeling like the biggest idiot on the planet.
He slaps himself in the face, no money, he would need to either sell or steal, and Benny was never a fan of the latter.
I hate this part, now I need to sell my stuff, why can't I just explain that I am here to save them and any assistance would be appreciated?, no one would believe me though, might as well throw myself in an asylum for the mentally insane, Maybe I could convince some one to buy some of the grenades I have left?, maybe even get rid of some of those med supplies, At least I could negotiate enough for a few drinks
Benny turns his back to the Bar he was looking forward to drinking at, head down in disappointment, He walks in the other direction.
"I will return soon..."
|
|