both_neither (
both_neither) wrote in
paradisa2012-09-24 10:29 am
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♫ 9
[It was like any other battle on Titan. The sand and wind were screaming overhead, almost muffling the sound of gunfire all around them - the only way to pick their targets was by muzzle flashes amidst the storm.
Gren glanced at his sides - at his comrades - checking that he hadn’t lost his squad somewhere in the howling stands. On one side, a soldier was busy reloading with shaking hands, on the other, a familiar flash of silver as Vicious calmly fired off a few rounds before dropping to cover.
Suddenly, there was the sound of something heavy landing a few feet away. Another soldier screamed - “GET DOWN!”
They were running...leaping as hard as they could behind the next dune as the grenade exploded, sending even more sand spraying into the air around them. Gren hit the ground, covering his head as ears rang from the sound and then...nothing. No gunfire, no explosions, no screaming. All the sound seemed to have stopped.
He coughed and lifted his head up. Titan was gone. He was in a huge, high-ceiling room, with massive ornate staircases and chandeliers, hunkered behind a sofa of all things.]
Vicious? ...Guys? [He coughs again and tries to shake some of the sand from his cloak and hair] What happened?
[Vicious had thrown himself bodily behind the dune, where he should have collided with nothing but more sand, he instead hit an unyielding wall and floor, laying there stunned for a brief moment before realizing what was wrong, and grabbing for the knife at his hip.]
...Gren?
[He hadn't hit his head, but couldn't help squinting at the room around him as though he were seeing things.]
I’m here. I think... [He crawled to Vicious’ side, keeping low as if he expected a bullet to fly past him at any moment] Are we dead? That was an awfully close call...
[That was one thing accounted for, at least, although they seemed to be short an entire battlefield. He took a moment to look over the room.]
I doubt hell would be this well-appointed.
((ooc: loss start!. Soldiers in ur lobby, Para. Have at 'em. And there's a journal around somewhere, if that's more to your liking.))
Gren glanced at his sides - at his comrades - checking that he hadn’t lost his squad somewhere in the howling stands. On one side, a soldier was busy reloading with shaking hands, on the other, a familiar flash of silver as Vicious calmly fired off a few rounds before dropping to cover.
Suddenly, there was the sound of something heavy landing a few feet away. Another soldier screamed - “GET DOWN!”
They were running...leaping as hard as they could behind the next dune as the grenade exploded, sending even more sand spraying into the air around them. Gren hit the ground, covering his head as ears rang from the sound and then...nothing. No gunfire, no explosions, no screaming. All the sound seemed to have stopped.
He coughed and lifted his head up. Titan was gone. He was in a huge, high-ceiling room, with massive ornate staircases and chandeliers, hunkered behind a sofa of all things.]
Vicious? ...Guys? [He coughs again and tries to shake some of the sand from his cloak and hair] What happened?
[Vicious had thrown himself bodily behind the dune, where he should have collided with nothing but more sand, he instead hit an unyielding wall and floor, laying there stunned for a brief moment before realizing what was wrong, and grabbing for the knife at his hip.]
...Gren?
[He hadn't hit his head, but couldn't help squinting at the room around him as though he were seeing things.]
I’m here. I think... [He crawled to Vicious’ side, keeping low as if he expected a bullet to fly past him at any moment] Are we dead? That was an awfully close call...
[That was one thing accounted for, at least, although they seemed to be short an entire battlefield. He took a moment to look over the room.]
I doubt hell would be this well-appointed.
((ooc: loss start!. Soldiers in ur lobby, Para. Have at 'em. And there's a journal around somewhere, if that's more to your liking.))
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No. There's no point.
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You're right. [There's no indication of who he's replying to, and he doesn't elaborate on his comment.] It's better to leave it that way.
[That's when he starts walking, back towards the kitchen, if only as a last ditch effort to keep himself together. If they follow, things may change. It can only go downhill from here.]
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Spike.
[He takes a few steps after him, more initiative than he usually shows on most occasions, then stops again.]
Is Julia here?
[It's a question, but almost a threat, maybe a warning. It's the only thing he can think to say that might illuminate the situation, for good or ill.]
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Julia. The woman he only knows as a song. The only thing he really knows about Vicious at all. Or used to.]
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He doesn't turn around.]
No, she isn't.
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Let's go look around. We're not going to find out what we need from him.
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Keeping his back to them is all he can do to keep a level head. Another push in any direction, and chances are he'll snap.
But when the moment passes in silence, he starts walking again. Purposeful steps that lead away from the kitchen and towards the exit. He decides then and there that he's had his fill of the castle for today.]
no subject
You're right.