Post by billybobjoe47s on Jan 4, 2013 22:54:46 GMT -5
Here's part III, and the conclusion of Arrival of a Stranger.
From now on, most threads will be invite or open, so feel free to join in!
Brennan was woken by the blared proximity alarm, a jarring tone made for just an occasion. It warned, ‘Multiple lifeforms detected within 15 feet!’ As he jerked upright, hurriedly stowing away his blanket back into Hammerspace, his eyes adjusted to the low light and several figures could be seen, all varying in size and some obviously not human.
One of them stepped forward and drawled, in an accent vaguely reminiscent of the Texans from his home dimension, “So you thought you could just walk into Thug territory, eh? Thought you could just use your magic to poof away all of our tags?”
Brennan hurriedly said, “I didn’t mean to—“but was cut off.
“See, now we’ll have to punish you for messing up our ground. You better hope you got a good doctor.”
Brennan’s worried frown was replaced by a confident smirk. “You intend to fight me? I wouldn’t recommend it.”
The leader scoffed. “Fight a pipsqueak like you? Nah, we’ll just beat you good than throw you out into the street.”
Brennan chuckled. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The leader growled. “I don’t like your attitude. Just for that, you’re losing an eye. Get ‘em!”
The others all steadily closed in, and Brennan leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes nonchalantly. However, when he opened them again, they glowed a bright blue with slight streaks of red intermixed.
“Bring it.”
*************************************************************************************
As the Thugs began to close in, supposing him to be easy prey, Brennan closed his eyes for a moment and waited as his body reconfigured into combat mode. Opening them again, his readouts were now all red, and target icons appeared on each Thug’s head, chest, elbows, and knees.
Quickly darting his eyes across the crowd, he selected a target path and waited for the aiming systems to finish calibrating a precise course. As the nanobots within him began to heat with a familiar glow, he relaxed, allowing their programming to work its course.
His body ran towards the group, startling the gangsters. Before they could recover, Brennan leaped into the air, then landed with a crack on the leader’s knee. As he collapsed, howling, he had already launched off again and landed behind the group. His arms stabbed out supernaturally fast, each stab hitting an enemy either behind the ears or at the base of the neck. As they fell, either unconscious from pain or temporarily paralyzed, the leader spoke through gritted teeth. “Kill him.”
Most of the remaining members of the Thugs pulled out clubs or knives, and several rushed towards him. However, one fell as he took a punch to the knee, and two more backed off after their swings had missed and instead hit each other, even breaking one’s arm.
The six left, however, were the largest and the most skilled of the group, and they all held knives. This time, Brennan took the initiative as he grabbed one’s arm mid-jump, twisted it, and directed it into a second’s gut.
As the second fell and the first stared in horror, having just seriously injured his comrade, his arm was broken and the knife taken from his now-limp grip. Now Brennan had a knife, and he was grinning.
The others backed off, as more than half of their number were groaning on the ground. Brennan smirked and said, “Want any more? I can give it to ya.”
Suddenly, a blinding pain stabbed through his left side, and he fell in agony, dropping the knife. As he squinted, the leader was sitting up, smiling evilly as his hand retreated back to his side. Brennan glanced down to see a knife, long and thick, embedded rather deeply into his side. Warnings began to pop up.
‘Warning! Bleeding at dangerous levels, attempting repair’
‘Warning! Blood pressure low, stimulating bone marrow’
‘Warning! Splenic Artery ruptured! Attempting repair’
‘Warning! Foreign contaminant has entered body. Please remove. Repairs unable to be completed without removal.’
‘Warning!’ Spleen damaged, attempting repairs’
‘Warning! Left Kidney damage, attempting repairs’
‘Warning! Stomach lining damaged but still functional, attempting repairs’
He fell on his back, the pain blindingly intense.
As the remaining members of the gang closed in to finish him off, the first blow landed, a crushing impact that luckily glanced off his side, but still caused an audible crack, prompting another warning. ‘Warning! Rib #8 fractured, attempting repairs’
He knew that if only he could pull out the knife and have some time, he would be healed within a matter of minutes, but he had no time left. Desperately, he tried something dangerous, something he barely knew. A Push.
A complicated technique, this involved fueling a small number of nanobots, then programming them to leave his body and expand rapidly just outside of his skin, causing a overpressure wave of air to push back enemies that had approached too close. Later, this could be used to augment jumps, but that was an even more dangerous technique.
However, Brennan made an error. Maybe it was his pain, his lack of training, or the speed with which he implemented it, but it was far too strong. The overpressure wave did not simply blow them back, but flung the groaning bodies, and the whole bodies, violently against one of the two sides of the alley. Numerous cracks were heard, a horrifying orchestra of bones breaking. Following this, the bodies fell to the ground, another chorus of cracks sounding.
The groans had all but ceased, and his sensors informed him that many were dead or fatally injured. Among this number was the leader. Horrified, Brennan stumbled to his feet, barely noticing now the pool of warm blood around his feet. His coat was ruined, but that was of little concern for now.
Exhausted from the fighting, he weakly attempted to pull the knife out, but to no avail. It seemed stuck, not budging. He knew that without the strength to pull out the knife, his body would be unable to heal, and he would die no matter how hard everything else was strained by his desperate nanobots as his life energy was exhausted constantly trying to replace the constant stream of blood now staining the ground. He needed help soon, or else he would die.
He slowly tottered down the alley, leaving a stream of blood behind him. A faint sentence was heard. “Sorry Alaric, looks like I’m heading back from a second round with Death.”
*************************************************************************************
Professor Schrodinger was strolling past the Back Alleys, on her way to a friend. Suddenly, a groaning was heard, and she spun, knowing the reputation of the Back Alleys. However, a different sight, but just as common as thieves in the Back Alleys, was seen.
A person stumbled out of an alley, a rather small person. As he tripped and fell into the streetlights, a shiny object glinted from one side. The person was perhaps a Pokemon, judging by its odd appearance and small stature.
However, as she tentatively approached, she saw a dire sight. A pool of red liquid—blood—was already accumulating around the fallen person, and she could see that the glinting object was in fact a large knife, embedded in the person’s side.
She ran over and skidded to a stop, kneeling. She could tell that the wound was grievous, perhaps even mortal. That worry was accentuated when she attempted to remove the knife, only to find it was stuck immovably in place. She scrutinized the dagger for a moment, and then gasped as it clicked.
This knife was a Stickler, second only to the Morgul-class blades in effectiveness and nastiness… one of the reasons they were banned on the Island. A magically enchanted blade, these blades would not move from the site of impact when a victim was stabbed, nearly ensuring the victim’s death in a painful way. The only way to remove it was to carve out the flesh surrounding the knife, a very close way to guarantee death.
Nevertheless, this person was still alive, and it was small. She wrapped her arms around the person and lifted them up, grunting as their bull weight hit her, for this person was definitely heavier than they should be. But she needed to hurry if this person had a chance at living, and so she straightened up, and began to sprint in the general direction of the hospital.
Luckily for all concerned, the hospital was only a few blocks north. However, as she ran, a stream of the stranger’s blood painted a trail behind them as she ran to save their life.
From now on, most threads will be invite or open, so feel free to join in!
Brennan was woken by the blared proximity alarm, a jarring tone made for just an occasion. It warned, ‘Multiple lifeforms detected within 15 feet!’ As he jerked upright, hurriedly stowing away his blanket back into Hammerspace, his eyes adjusted to the low light and several figures could be seen, all varying in size and some obviously not human.
One of them stepped forward and drawled, in an accent vaguely reminiscent of the Texans from his home dimension, “So you thought you could just walk into Thug territory, eh? Thought you could just use your magic to poof away all of our tags?”
Brennan hurriedly said, “I didn’t mean to—“but was cut off.
“See, now we’ll have to punish you for messing up our ground. You better hope you got a good doctor.”
Brennan’s worried frown was replaced by a confident smirk. “You intend to fight me? I wouldn’t recommend it.”
The leader scoffed. “Fight a pipsqueak like you? Nah, we’ll just beat you good than throw you out into the street.”
Brennan chuckled. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The leader growled. “I don’t like your attitude. Just for that, you’re losing an eye. Get ‘em!”
The others all steadily closed in, and Brennan leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes nonchalantly. However, when he opened them again, they glowed a bright blue with slight streaks of red intermixed.
“Bring it.”
*************************************************************************************
As the Thugs began to close in, supposing him to be easy prey, Brennan closed his eyes for a moment and waited as his body reconfigured into combat mode. Opening them again, his readouts were now all red, and target icons appeared on each Thug’s head, chest, elbows, and knees.
Quickly darting his eyes across the crowd, he selected a target path and waited for the aiming systems to finish calibrating a precise course. As the nanobots within him began to heat with a familiar glow, he relaxed, allowing their programming to work its course.
His body ran towards the group, startling the gangsters. Before they could recover, Brennan leaped into the air, then landed with a crack on the leader’s knee. As he collapsed, howling, he had already launched off again and landed behind the group. His arms stabbed out supernaturally fast, each stab hitting an enemy either behind the ears or at the base of the neck. As they fell, either unconscious from pain or temporarily paralyzed, the leader spoke through gritted teeth. “Kill him.”
Most of the remaining members of the Thugs pulled out clubs or knives, and several rushed towards him. However, one fell as he took a punch to the knee, and two more backed off after their swings had missed and instead hit each other, even breaking one’s arm.
The six left, however, were the largest and the most skilled of the group, and they all held knives. This time, Brennan took the initiative as he grabbed one’s arm mid-jump, twisted it, and directed it into a second’s gut.
As the second fell and the first stared in horror, having just seriously injured his comrade, his arm was broken and the knife taken from his now-limp grip. Now Brennan had a knife, and he was grinning.
The others backed off, as more than half of their number were groaning on the ground. Brennan smirked and said, “Want any more? I can give it to ya.”
Suddenly, a blinding pain stabbed through his left side, and he fell in agony, dropping the knife. As he squinted, the leader was sitting up, smiling evilly as his hand retreated back to his side. Brennan glanced down to see a knife, long and thick, embedded rather deeply into his side. Warnings began to pop up.
‘Warning! Bleeding at dangerous levels, attempting repair’
‘Warning! Blood pressure low, stimulating bone marrow’
‘Warning! Splenic Artery ruptured! Attempting repair’
‘Warning! Foreign contaminant has entered body. Please remove. Repairs unable to be completed without removal.’
‘Warning!’ Spleen damaged, attempting repairs’
‘Warning! Left Kidney damage, attempting repairs’
‘Warning! Stomach lining damaged but still functional, attempting repairs’
He fell on his back, the pain blindingly intense.
As the remaining members of the gang closed in to finish him off, the first blow landed, a crushing impact that luckily glanced off his side, but still caused an audible crack, prompting another warning. ‘Warning! Rib #8 fractured, attempting repairs’
He knew that if only he could pull out the knife and have some time, he would be healed within a matter of minutes, but he had no time left. Desperately, he tried something dangerous, something he barely knew. A Push.
A complicated technique, this involved fueling a small number of nanobots, then programming them to leave his body and expand rapidly just outside of his skin, causing a overpressure wave of air to push back enemies that had approached too close. Later, this could be used to augment jumps, but that was an even more dangerous technique.
However, Brennan made an error. Maybe it was his pain, his lack of training, or the speed with which he implemented it, but it was far too strong. The overpressure wave did not simply blow them back, but flung the groaning bodies, and the whole bodies, violently against one of the two sides of the alley. Numerous cracks were heard, a horrifying orchestra of bones breaking. Following this, the bodies fell to the ground, another chorus of cracks sounding.
The groans had all but ceased, and his sensors informed him that many were dead or fatally injured. Among this number was the leader. Horrified, Brennan stumbled to his feet, barely noticing now the pool of warm blood around his feet. His coat was ruined, but that was of little concern for now.
Exhausted from the fighting, he weakly attempted to pull the knife out, but to no avail. It seemed stuck, not budging. He knew that without the strength to pull out the knife, his body would be unable to heal, and he would die no matter how hard everything else was strained by his desperate nanobots as his life energy was exhausted constantly trying to replace the constant stream of blood now staining the ground. He needed help soon, or else he would die.
He slowly tottered down the alley, leaving a stream of blood behind him. A faint sentence was heard. “Sorry Alaric, looks like I’m heading back from a second round with Death.”
*************************************************************************************
Professor Schrodinger was strolling past the Back Alleys, on her way to a friend. Suddenly, a groaning was heard, and she spun, knowing the reputation of the Back Alleys. However, a different sight, but just as common as thieves in the Back Alleys, was seen.
A person stumbled out of an alley, a rather small person. As he tripped and fell into the streetlights, a shiny object glinted from one side. The person was perhaps a Pokemon, judging by its odd appearance and small stature.
However, as she tentatively approached, she saw a dire sight. A pool of red liquid—blood—was already accumulating around the fallen person, and she could see that the glinting object was in fact a large knife, embedded in the person’s side.
She ran over and skidded to a stop, kneeling. She could tell that the wound was grievous, perhaps even mortal. That worry was accentuated when she attempted to remove the knife, only to find it was stuck immovably in place. She scrutinized the dagger for a moment, and then gasped as it clicked.
This knife was a Stickler, second only to the Morgul-class blades in effectiveness and nastiness… one of the reasons they were banned on the Island. A magically enchanted blade, these blades would not move from the site of impact when a victim was stabbed, nearly ensuring the victim’s death in a painful way. The only way to remove it was to carve out the flesh surrounding the knife, a very close way to guarantee death.
Nevertheless, this person was still alive, and it was small. She wrapped her arms around the person and lifted them up, grunting as their bull weight hit her, for this person was definitely heavier than they should be. But she needed to hurry if this person had a chance at living, and so she straightened up, and began to sprint in the general direction of the hospital.
Luckily for all concerned, the hospital was only a few blocks north. However, as she ran, a stream of the stranger’s blood painted a trail behind them as she ran to save their life.