Honest feedback : Forum : Fear


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Re: Fear

3 Months Ago


 “I won’t lie to ya, this is the most afraid I’ve ever been before a match,” says Walter, really looking it. The expression on his face is enough to unnerve Blódhundr, as well. The air inside the Dropship is incredibly tense, even in the isolated squad compartment, as if everyone knew somehow that a bold risk was about to be taken. Blódhundr, being more attuned to these things, cannot help but comment. “Do you think that anyone knows about what we are attempting?” “Nah, not a chance! If anyone did know, they would’a reported us to the sponsors, and they’d probably send some goons to arrest us before we even boarded the Dropship.” Walter says, in an attempt to convince both Blódhundr and himself. Another voice, a fairly young-sounding one comes from another compartment of the Dropship. “Help! We need help! Something’s wrong with the M.R.V.N.s! They’re trying to kill us!” (Mobile Robotic Versatile eNtity. The same type as Pathfinder, except these M.R.V.N.s are supposed to be serving as the Dropship guards, and, according to the officials at Hammond Robotics, are here mainly to prevent the legends from trying to kill each-other on the Dropship. Something has obviously gone very wrong.) Blódhundr and Walter waste no time in responding. Walter slams the inner door release-lever with his metal arm, which opens the door quite nicely, but completely destroys the lever and its mechanism. They both take off at a run down the long industrial steel corridor, as Blódhundr scans the upcoming area using the controls on their left arm, and does indeed reveal other legends desperately trying to escape the rogue M.R.V.N.s, now just a few more paces, past one more door. They break through the door, and witness a disgusting scene: The room in almost entirely dark. The only reason that they see is the slightest rays of gray light filtering in through the row of windows. At least 5 legends have been brutally murdered. None of them recognizable. There isn’t a corner of the wall that hasn’t been spattered with blood. A rogue M.R.V.N. reaches out from an empty squad room, and seizes Walter by the throat, doing it’s best to crush his spine. The M.R.V.N. looks very unusual; like it was dragged through the lava pits, and partially melted. It seems to have great difficulty moving about, and the fact that it was able to move its hand and arm is very surprising — or disturbing, it’s up to you. Blódhundr leaps toward the M.R.V.N. and kicks its metal leg with both of theirs, and its misshapen left leg shatters immediately. It falls to the ground, but doesn’t release its grip from Walter’s neck, so he falls to the ground with it. The M.R.V.N. ‘bites’ Blódhundr’s leg with the crudely reforged, icicle-shapes on its face, pinning Blódhundr to the ground as they roar in pain. Walter manages to draw the bowie knife from his left boot, and lodges it in the socket between the shoulder-plate and the torso. It still has not released its grip, and won’t need much longer to paralyze him, but after a few more successful stabs, plus Blódhundr’s throw with their raider axe, the arm was finally severed. Walter takes a second to regain his breath, then runs to help Blódhundr. The M.R.V.N. is still driving its spikes into Blódhundr’s leg, who draws another blade from their side, and hacks a good deal of material off of the M.R.V.N.’s neck joints, and Walter drives his knife into the M.R.V.N.’s back, and it finally stops thrashing around. Blódhundr pulls the M.R.V.N.’s spikes out of their leg, and patches it up with cloth bandages. When Walter can speak, he suggests they keep looking for whoever called for help, if anyone is even still alive. “No. These were sent to kill us — I am sure of it. We should leave now.” Blódhundr says, quite clearly. Walter looks shocked that they would so quickly leave their old friends. He can’t help but look out towards the corridor, wondering if anyone died because they haven’t left already. “… You’re right, Hounds. I care for you more than anyone…” He looks at Blódhundr, not seeming to notice the sense of urgency. He snaps out of it before long. “Alright, let’s get outta here!” Blódhundr and Walter move to the outer hatch, test the aerial boosters on their back, hold tightly to the bars surrounding the hatch, then they pull their respective levers, jettisoning themselves from the Dropship. There is a moment of bliss while they seem to be suspended in mid-air, then a surge of adrenaline as they begin their rapid descent towards the ground. They arrange themselves like a predatory bird, performing a nose dive at dangerous speed. Their hearts race uncontrollably, the air rushing past their ears, then, finally close to the ground, they fire their aerial boosters, which slow their descent to a safe speed, allowing them to land on their feet.