Crimson Winter [Closed] - Printable Version

Crimson Winter [Closed] - Printable Version

+- alonimi (https://alonimi.net)
+-- Forum: Fantasy (https://alonimi.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=70)
+--- Forum: Misc Fantasy (https://alonimi.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=82)
+--- Thread: Crimson Winter [Closed] (/showthread.php?tid=693)

Crimson Winter [Closed] - Ghostly - 11-16-2016

A private 1x1 between Kat and Ghostly.

RE: Crimson Winter [Closed] - Ghostly - 11-17-2016

_{The dreaming world was rarely kind to Braelin; his past wrought with painful memories. However, his prevailing escape was a pleasant one compared to most others, probably due to his travels with Cheswick. The Ahroun led their pack of two with Braelin finally managing to pull his own weight. Eventually, the duo settled in the great white north, appropriating a cabin away from one of the central population hubs. She was sound asleep in the pile of shredded fabrics while he cooked up a breakfast of various meats and eggs. The golem was not a fantastic cook by anyone's standards, but it wasn't too demanding to fry up a greasy mess in a skillet. His wolf stirred from her slumber with a toss of her slender limbs and a rather ungraceful yawn. A genuine smile on his features, too often kept in a mute state. Here he believed himself safe from all the worries that plagued him in a point that seemed not so long ago. Unfortunately, the fantasy faded to black all too soon, much to Braelin's dismay.

Emerald hues wearily opened with a lull, squinting as if there were a thick haze obscuring his vision. Racking his sluggish mind for answers, Braelin strained to snap himself to some form of alertness, but to little avail. His limbs felt overburdened as if pinned by an invisible force, unable to shift more than an inch or two at any given moment. Apart from that, there was a mental drag as if he had been...drugged.

That particular realization helped to break through the fog surrounding the youth, that and his observation of his immediate venue being a sort of confinement. His enclosed area provided him with barely enough room to stand and gave but one viewing space, a translucent panel which kept him separated from the connected chamber. Bolting upright, Braelin found himself staggeringly disoriented as if he'd broken loose of restraints meant to keep him tranquil. Scouring his brain for a recent coherent thought, all he got in return was having departed the hostel in St. Petersburg on the lookout for his next meal with Cheswick.

Cheswick!

Turning about, Braelin let out a silent gasp for his silver topped companion lay in their cage motionless. With trembling movements, he hovered his palm over her nostrils before he relieved himself with a sigh, she was only sleeping, just as he was moments ago. What caught his attention while observing his Garou partner was a dark band clasped to her neck, causing him to raise those still shaking digits to his throat. A cold, steel vice which had to be what he noticed Cheswick with.

Certainly, they were anything but fashion statements, so better off than on the redhead deducted. Fingers taking hold of the black brace, Braelin's rune inscribed forearm illuminated an otherworldly blue tone. The golem's innate ability allowed him to deconstruct matter in an instant, and it would take a bit of focus, but he could easily remove this shackle and then move onto Cheswick.

Such an attempt never flourished, as there came a sudden rapping against the barrier to his cell shocking Braelin so thoroughly he swore his heart made a concerted effort to burst from his chest.

"I'd not tamper with that collar unless you wish to lose your head, boy."

There loomed a figure dressed in dark military garb and a full facial helmet, their crimson eyepieces gazing menacingly down at the pair from behind the tempered glass. A static filter washed out any inflection their command might have possessed. In one hand a firm metal rod was gripped, while the other held a tight grip to a heavy rifle.

"Whatever you think yourself able to do, don't. That collar is fitted with micro-explosives and interweaved in your carotid artery, so If you try and remove it, or step out of line, it will kill you faster than you can react. If you are restless, don't be, we will release you soon enough."

In what scarce interactions he had observed, there was a sense of boredom Braelin garnered from the guard's mannerisms. It was as if this was not the first occasion the man had run through this routine. Peering beyond his keeper's towering stature, Braelin witnessed several separate guards donned in similar attire. They were likely spouting off a speech, not unlike the one he'd received to captives like himself.

Again, he turned to Cheswick this time to stir her awake. He was quite unaware of their current situation, but if it was as grave as he assumed, then both of them needed to be sharp for what might come next. "Cheswick," he whispered with his hands on her shoulders. "Cheswick!" Braelin spoke up louder now, worry filling his voice.}

RE: Crimson Winter [Closed] - Kat - 12-14-2016

The world, an explosion of glass and metal, frightened Cheswick. The buildings teetering in the distance, swaying with northern winds, struggling to stay upright. The crunch of granite underneath her paws was sickening, a blanket of cold the only factor reminding the creature of the vast wilds intimately tied to her birthright. A wolf held no value in the cities of men, an outcast of a variety the Garou had little understanding of. Why, she pondered, did they fear what they didn't understand? Her kind had roamed the planes for eons before their towering dominance lined the skyline like jagged teeth in a laughing maw, yet the sole consideration Garou earned from their human counterparts was whether they were fit to be exploited. This world, she decided, didn't deserve the beauty of the werewolf.

And so the wolf ran, padding footfalls thundering through piles of settled snow, disrupting the waste with pockets of fleeting existence. The trail was unseen, through woods far from the beaten path, Cheswick escaping the clutches of roads so the faint of heart were keen to avoid following. Blood in her veins roared to life with the howl of neighboring packmates, fueled by adrenaline-laced thoughts clouding her consciousness that somewhere in the tundra, the home she longed to find was obscured. She could smell them, their musk and their heat, the aroma so close that it coated her tongue in the taste of blood. A fresh meal and a warm pile, shelter consisting of the bodies of her brethren. If only she was faster, she mused with the hint of tears threatening to fall, their collected weight enough to draw a wounded sob from her chest.

If only they were alive to greet her.

Crimson stretched like a field of summer roses sprouting across the snowy banks surrounding her village. Screams echoed hauntingly through the night. Over and over Cheswick peddled back and forth in her anxious state, but her young heart had begun dragging her below the snow, and before she was able to react, the woman had only her canine features directed skyward. Cheswick was drowning in the bloody snow, in the death of her kind, and she had no means to escape the carnage. Yelps fired off, panicked. Pleas to Wendigo, begging for salvation by any means the great spirit was capable of assisting, but they went unanswered as her tribe met the wrath of the blond beast ravaging their homestead. Cheswick couldn't see the scene, but she knew it well.

All those bodies cleaved in two like fallen oaks at the axe of an impatient lumberjack. Strong individuals made weak. Ancient souls consumed by madness.

Why, she questioned as the snow finally encroached over the space occupied by her portrait so she was left to drown, had she run from death?

Bright fluorescent lights met squinting orbs as their gray presence sparked to a state of awareness. She was human once more, furless and cold on the floor of the strange facility, though Cheswick was none the wiser on why this happened to be the case. Had she lost her way at one point or another, and this way where she finally came to rest? Unfamiliar surroundings weren't the most frightening environment for the Garou to be met with, but Braelin's pale features looming over her didn't bode well. He said her name in a tone she wasn't familiar with, the dismay apparent with how his pitch increased. It made her ears tingle uncomfortably, causing the creature to raise both filthy hands upward to clasp the aurally offended additions. "Braelin-" She whispered passively, more confused than cautious at this point, though that would change with each new sight she met through the brightness of the cell.

That was what it was, after all. A cell of sorts, with the occupants consisting of herself and her charge. "Where?" Dropping from her ears, she grasped at the collar heavy at her throat, tempted to rip the metal clean so not to be burdened with its weight at against her scarred flesh. "This is not..." The word for a hostel was lost to the Garou, replaced with, "home." No, the pair had never found a home to settle in permanently, but their makeshift residences had been many, and this was no such location. Sore, Cheswick slowly rose to sit next to the redhead, glancing back to meet his visage with worried thoughts plaguing her expression.

RE: Crimson Winter [Closed] - Ghostly - 01-04-2017

With Cheswick up and about, Braelin was unable to hide a beaming smile from creeping onto his features if just for a moment. All the same, it faded rather suddenly with him having to explain what little he knew about what might be going on. "We were captured, I think." Again, his digits went to trace the smooth metallic material of his collar, pondering his ability to destroy it before the explosives could detonate. However, with Cheswick chained as well and the two sharing a cell, it wasn't outside the possibility that their devices were linked. "These are meant to keep us in line." Tapping the metal as if to signify what he was talking about, he added an addendum. "The armed guards too, obviously." Braelin's worried tone had settled to something more inquisitive as if trying to take in as much information to figure an out to this situation. The oppressive training he'd been given as a tool of destruction at least had a use in these awful scenarios.

Leaving the device at his throat, the redhead instead took one of Cheswick's hands into his own and held tightly as if to assure her he was with the Garou no matter what, and perhaps to prevent her from lunging at the plexiglass appearing wall in front of them. "I'm not sure where we are, maybe in Russia still? I can remember departing the hostel, then nothing. I woke up here next." Pointing to the cells lining the bleak facade opposite theirs, he changed the subject suddenly. "We aren't alone in this either, it seems." Braelin then turned to meet Cheswick's troubled features, kissing her forehead out of reflex. "We just have to wait for the right opportunity to escape." The golem would get no further in his attempt to reassure the wolf, interrupted by a harsh click of an intercom buzzing to life.

"Hello, I am Prefect Osmond, the operator of this facility and overseer of your lives from here on. Once a year, our organization puts on exposition for our investors and benefactors, which is where your purpose is realized.To the point, each of you will be fighting in a death match of sorts, the prize being your freedom if you are the final team standing. Some of you were collected together or were paired at random, either way, you will have to work as a cohesive unit if you wish to endure the savage environment and challenges you will encounter. Soon you will be deposited throughout a deserted town in the arctic wasteland of Siberia and left to fend for yourselves with but the clothing on your backs. None of you are without a means to defend yourselves, all of you possess enhanced abilities that place you on a pedestal well above the average human. There are no rules in this engagement, make alliances if you so desire, or slaughter one another like animals. All that is certain is that only a single pairing will survive at the end of this." With a slight bit of feedback, the line shut off and concluded the long monologue from a well-articulated, British-accented male, leaving the prisoners to let the gravity of his words sink in.

Jarringly, the speakers cut in awkwardly with a cough to clear his throat. "Please try and put on a good show, that is all." Silence from Osmand prompted a supplementary detachment of guards to enter the room from out of sight. Only when there stood a trio of rifle-bearing soldiers outside every containment compartment did the translucent paneling separating the prisoners from the guards slide open. "Out." A cold, filtered order was given with the wave of the barrel politely urging Braelin and Cheswick to get to their feet and step out past the armored sentinels. Never did Braelin release his grip on Cheswick, he wasn't about to lose her before they had a proper chance at escaping.

In the spacious chamber, the pair were greeted by [numerous other collared individuals], all with varying looks on their faces, though most appeared confused and or concerned as Braelin had been/was. These were to be his opponents, an unassuming lot at a glance, but from what Osmond said the entire party consisted of metahumans, so nothing could be taken at face value.

One of the hired muscle was clearly a step above the rest, even beyond in his immaculate and advanced gear in the manner that he presented himself. Despite his title of commanding officer, his filtered voice came across like any of the faceless thugs. "Don't worry, you'll all be free of us soon enough. We're to transport you all six to a helicopter and drop you off at the LZ, from there you'll be on your own." Performing an about-face, he led the collective towards a set of massive double doors at the end of the hallway. "I will remind you since we have a case or two happen every year, that this period between now and you hitting the town is quite possibly the worst chance for any of you to make an attempt at fleeing."

A deafening hydraulic hiss escaped the barrier as it parted, much to the dismay of the prisoners it had been keeping at bay the frigid gusts of air buffeting the helicopter pad. Advancing was a struggle in itself as their assortment was split apart and cordoned off to a different helicopter on the pad. All the while being reminded by the officer to hustle, to take into account that the wind chill made it so that frostbite would onset in minutes without protection.

Before entering the sleek, midnight military bird of prey, a blood-curdling scream cut above the roar of the gale. One of the mercenaries crumpled to the snow in a heap with crimson seeping through the cracks in his plating.

"Telekinesis? Cute." The commander nor any of the other guards aimed their rifles down at the oddly sprightly [woman] with dirty blonde hair as if denying her threat despite their deceased partner.

"We will see how you feel about it will be once I toss you off of the mountain." Raising her arms as if to enunciate her threat, what she got instead was the soldier turning his back to her to proceed with his operation.

"We don't have time for this. My advice to you is to remove the collar before it's detonated."

A grimace to her lips she hesitated on her attack to direct her energy into the collar itself. "Don't you turn your back from me, asshole. I'll show you..." The pop of the explosion was nigh audible over the force of the air, a sanguine mist painting the dusting of white underneath as her head disappeared from sight.

Treading through the tainted snow, the individual that had been her designated partner reached the commander who had but a select of words to acknowledge the situation. "Unfortunately, you drew the short straw this year and lost your partner before the event began." Hitting a switch on the exterior of the helicopter, a break appeared on the exterior, widening to allow access.

The dark skinned man merely gave a shrug as he boarded the vehicle with the officer and a selection of other troops. "To my advantage, I work best alone." Then they were closed off from the arctic atmosphere.

Braelin and Cheswick were both made to board a separate helicopter with two teams and a battalion of guards. Once seated the pilot wasted not a moment in hitting the engines and lurching them with haste off of the helipad and towards their destination.

[[I have some shit to edit, but I wanted to get this out]]