2020-05-10 Gone Fishin'
Gone Fishin'
Participants: Dame Anima Trix, Gadget, Captain Winston Sauer
Storyteller: Elijah
Location: Somewhere out in the Near Dreaming within the County of the Shattered Scale
Date and Time: May 10
Summary: A hunt for the Horseman of Death turns into a fight against a monster with unexpected allies.
It's a lovely day in the Dreaming... The sky is a lovely shade of violet washed out to lavender at the edges. The reports of this 'Horseman of Death' were vague, but still somewhat troubling. "Horseman of Death" not being a particularly comforting moniker afterall. The assembled hunters gather, break into smaller troops, with Trix assigned a contingent of Connor, Alistair and a few literal redshirts. The Silver Path leads out of the Near Dreaming and into the Far -- the place where things stop getting real and get... Interesting. The deeper one goes into the Dreaming, the more thoughts and emotions shape the landscape around them. Trix can feel the subtle allure of the road ahead, the promise of something marvelous and unknown just over the horizon. They have not yet crossed the threshhold into the Far Dreaming, that barrier is still a ways ahead, but the pull is strong, stronger than perhaps it should be.
"Honestly, who calls themselves the Horseman of Death. That's a dumb fuckin' name if you ask me." This is Trix, conferring with the bodyguard boys and the nearby redshirts. "It's like preparing you in advance for what you're going to face, so you can exploit what you know." The metallic clicking of her exosuit's joints permeates the immediate area, the sound elongating and sounding almost springy as they near the Far Dreaming. She seems overly eager to keep going, too. "Come ooonnnnnn. There's so much to see! I wonder what we'll find??" Sprrrrroing-click-whirrr. The suit cannot move fast enough for her.
"Prolly just trying to act hard." This from Alistair, not unfamiliar with the concept of braggadocio himself. His brother snorts and rolls his eyes, though as he peers forward, something catches his attention. "Heeeeey, mama -- you see that up there?" There is a note of concern in the troll kinain's voice, a protectiveness that has gone off. His brother's attention is focused there as well and when Trix looks in the direction they look, she too can make out a small figure huddled on the side of the road. The distance is great enough for it to be difficult to make out any details, but it's not a rock and it doesn't look like a wild chimera. It is definitely small-person shaped, even if it is curled up in a ball.
"Says the expert." Trix teases, though the sudden change in tone prompts her to stop the forward inertia with an abrupt halt; Shocka protests with flashing lurid orange warning lights of course. "Huh. Think it's someone that's hurt? Doesn't look like some big thing. Or one of the chimera that will inevitably find me and leap out to attack from somewhere." Redshirt? You're up. "Who's got really good sight? You? You." The Nocker makes shooing motions of a couple scouting types towards the huddled figure. "Let's follow up behind. Slowly." she suggests, totally fearless.
The addressed soldiers, (an eshu and a ghille dhu, respectively) nod to Trix and move forward at a swift pace. he figure is about two hundred yards ahead, and it takes them a few minutes to approach. The figure uncurls a little, proving to be either a child or a child-sized critter. The body language is fairly pathetic, hands wiping at their cheeks, a plaintive pointing somewhere behind it. The eshu guard holds up a hand, leaves the ghille dhu with the child and starts jogging back.
Trix and the boys have covered half the distance in the intervening time, and when the eshu intercepts them, he's slightly winded. "Kid -- up ahead. Mer, I think. Says his family was attacked and his mom won't wake up."
"Ah, fuck." Trix's armored shoulders slump. "Why's it have to be a /kid/." There are no doubt a few other creative curses mixed in there. But, the Eshu is given a nod that resembles a thanks with a bit of gratitude. "We'll catch up with you both at the kid, leave a couple people with him, and then go find the parents." She meets Alistair and Conor's gazes there, concern filling her eyes for a moment. "We bring any survivors with us back to the Freehold. Look around for things we can use to help carry them."
When Trix arrives, the kid turns wide lambent eyes on her and her shiny exosuit. "You help? You help me wake up mamma?" There is such depth of feeling there in those huge (they are REALLY big eyes. Too big.) eyes. The child is pale-skinned with tinges of a pale blue with darker blue stripes. He seems a little.. dry. Lips are chapped, the skin around his elbows and knees are ashy. But there is such need in his eyes. "Help me?"
"I'll do my best." Trix doesn't promise on what she doesn't know she can deliver. But, what she can do, is gesture at one of the others, with a look towards their canteen. "Here, why don't you have something to drink while we check on your mom okay? Conor, stay here with him. Alistair, let's see what we can do." Now, the mechanical whirring moves along with her towards where she assumes momma is. She would not make a good parent. Not at allll. But, she is determined to figure out what happened at least!
"No, no I go with!" The child eyes that canteen for a moment and then shakes his head. "I take you! Come!" He moves with a fluid quality that seems peculiar, his route wavers back and forth rather than moving straight ahead. He is fast as well, running forward.
The grass bends away from the child a couple inches in front of his feet/legs. You think. Maybe? But even as you note this, he hits hardpack ground and starts rounding a large boulder. The rock is massive, easily the size of a large cottage.
Maeve looks like she's going to protest, but the kid is already running. And, fortunately she is naturally of a cynical and suspicious nature. So, when she sees the weird grass bending routine she elbows /both/ the troll kinain and makes a subtle gesture to keep an eye on the kid. "How fucking convenient that the injured behind a rock the size of a house that we can't see through." she mutters. Before they get too close... "Hey, split the group. Conor lead half around the other side of the boulder, but don't come into sight until we call you. Alistair, you lead the other half around the side the kid went. We don't know what we're walking into here."
The two kinain nod to Trix and Conor peels off to lead a pair of redshirts to the opposite side as Alistair does the same. Just, you know on the other side. When they are in position, they keep hidden, eyes on Trix as she launches up into the air with a roar of her jet-boots. As she reaches the crown of the boulder, the first thing she sees is the child dangling bonelessly about fifteen feet in the air. The mechanism for this dangling is a thin, mostly translucent cable or rod of sorts which is connected to the brow of a staggeringly large anglerfish partially burrowed into a drying pool of mud.
"What. The. Actual. Fuck." Each word is enunciated the very second Trix peeepers land on the weird ass reverse fishing experiment going on. "Hey. HEY! Seriously? Is anyone down there really good at axe throwing? We need to cut the fishing line holding the kid... you know what, just come around the side. I can't even..." She charges up the electrohands of her suit just in case. But, leaps down to try and get a better look at the fishing anglerfish. Is it fishing?
It's a beautiful day in the Dreaming-hood, just a beautiful day for a Dreamer. The skies are a lovely violet with tinges of lavender, the air smells faintly of peaches with undertones of... fish? Whatever. This part of the Near Dreaming is quite close to the border into the Far Dream, and there is a subtle, hypnotic pull that seems to speed one's feet, filling them with anticipation and delight, a sort of low-level excitement and sense of adventure that reaches even the darkest and most paranoid of hearts.
And why would someone be paranoid? Is it even paranoia if everyone IS literally out to get you? The two Thallain find themselves near by a branch of the Silver Path, the sheen worn thin, which is convenient for them.
Suddenly, from nearby, just beyond a massive boulder obstructing the view:
"What kind of monster uses a kid-thing as bait? You are one sorry ass motherfucker. You might have tried something like a giant iced coffee. I'd have gone for that." Trix complains, perhaps putting on as big a s how as possible to let her boys get into position for their own attacks. She even points her palms out at the thing and lets loose a stream of electricity. It, uh, doesn't work very well. But, MAYBE IT'S JUST FOR SHOW OKAY. Glances in either direction towards said kinain are no doubt a 'well, kill it!' look.
The mouth is truly a thing of horror, gaping doesn't even begin to cover it. And those TEETH. Massive spikes fanned out in curving rows, like sharp semi-translucent needles. The black eyes roll, landing on Trix in her power suit and there is a sickening gurgle from within the depths of the maw.
Conor and Alistair, seeing Trix leading the charge (go-go Fiona's inability to feel fear!) round the corner and have their own WTF moments, where they simply stand in horror. As Trix launches back into the air and fires bolts of electricity at the fish-monster, the electricity runs along the 'fishing pole' and fizzles. Alistair and Conor charge towards the fishmonster from their flanking positions. Conor stabs the creature along the back fin, scoring deeply and revealing a thick layer of blubbery nastiness. Alistair? He gets caught in the teeth of the beast and gulped down whole. That's enough to have Alistair's guards break rank and flee.
Diana is riding her giant bristle boar mount backwards as she holds a map, "Dab nabbit, Porkchop!", smacking her tattered and poorly drawn map with disgust. "We were supposed to take a left at Eldridge Tavern, now we're lost again.", perking up as she heard screaming.
With a deep grin spreading across her face, Diana turns around and drops her map. "Adventure, Huzzah!", snapping the reins to her boars bit as she charged towards a monster fish and people fight. She steers with the reins now in her mouth, chomping down hard and plucking a single bristle from her mounts back. Holding it in her right hand like a spear, the goblin comes bouncing in like a wannabe hero or mounted cavalry.
Winston takes a moment to take in the scene before him, "Huh. That's not something you see every day. Guy getting swallowed whole by a... is that a merrow? I can never tell if a fish monster is a merrow or just a fish monster, you know?" He comments to the short stack standing behind him. "You want to save your cousin from it? Maybe it kills her and spits out that fancy armor? Nah... you'd never be able to get the fish guts out once that happens..." Winston looks over to where he thought Diana just was, only to realize she has already let off into the fray. He shrugs his shoulders once, and then with a a sudden leap, he springs into the air. His large wings spread wide, and soon he is flying towards the action as well.
"GET BACK HERE YOU SISSIES! YOU ARE SO FIRED LATER." Trix shouts at the fleeing guards, while she starts to crouch on the cottage sized boulder she's been perched on.. aaaaand then takes a flying leap towards the giant fish to try and land on it, and shock it. "We're gonna have to gut this bastard, Conor. No way is it going to eat Alistair." she's conferring to the trin troll kinain of the one who was just swallowed. This, of course, is when... "A goblin too? What the actual fuck is this?" And a ... flying pooka? Bat pooka? "That's it, I'm asking for a /raise/. You're just going to have to wait if you want to stab us, we have to get Alistair out first." Because bad guys (or what she thinks of as bad guys) always listen.
Porkchop comes squealing to a halt and grunts at the monster fish, with Diana nearly tumbling off. "Whoa there big boy, avoid the squishies. They'll blame us for that hit and turn you into bacon.", looking over her shoulder to Winston. "Yo bats, we got kiths getting eaten by monsters! I want to save them, but I'm afraid they'd go into shock and die.", trying to be a hero was tough. "Um... and we don't get paid extra to be stabbed!", tssking and still aiming at the fish with her makeshift spear. "You let us live and give us half that fish, we'll help you kill it. Deal?", bargaining in the middle of combat. Diplomacy 101.
Several things seem to happen simultaneously: Conor, the troll kinain in the back takes another stab at the fishmonster that has swallowed his twin brother whole, roaring in outrage, his skin briefly flashing a deep cobalt blue as his sword digs into the flesh of the monster. There is a twitch from the beast as more blubberous flesh and slimy ichor oozes from the deepening wound.
From the center of the anial there is a noticeable bulge outward as the contents of its stomach seem to rebel against being there.
Maeve lands on the fish and turns her lightning onto its back for a direct assault, this time not getting blocked by the fishing rod proboscus thingy. The electricity crackles and singes some scales, but the things mass and general blobb-ness seem to be doing a good job of diffusing the power.
The fish is now royally peeved. It got a small snack (Sorry Alistair) and now its tumtum hurts. It has all these things poking and zapping it. Not cool yo. It burbles in gassy rage and unleashes a fountain of slime from... everywhere. It's a tsunami of goop that is shot violently out of its pores and it stings on contact with skin. Conor roars in outrage more than pain, but his men drop like flies around him. And Trix? The goo... is... ORANGE and it's ALL OVER SHOCKA.
The tsunami falls just short of Diana and Winston, but the ground sizzles in front of them.
Winston beats his wings, rising up to the sky at a 45 degree angle until he is roughly twelve feet over the fish monster's head. He brings his thumb up to the corner of his mouth, and bites down hard on it. Winston then shakes his hand out in front of him like someone seasoning a steak, a few droplets of blood sprinkling down onto the massive angler fish.
"Half? You can have the whole fucking fish for all I care. You don't kill us, we won't kill you." Trix pauses, before adding. "Except those lousy fuckers that RAN AWAY." She definitely turns her face in the direction of the still fleeing guards, and is yes - obviously angry enough to offer them as targets. Obviously this is why she misses the lurid orange goop until it's about to drape all over her and cause a shriek of grossed out outrage. "ANYTHING BUT ORANGE!" She might even cry soon, swear to god. That's how anguished she is over the color of whatever just tried to sizzle them. "Spit him out, fish man. Spit. Him. Out." Once more, she tries to grab on to... scales? Whatever. And, deliver an electrical pulse.
Winston yawns with a level of disinterest, "This is why these guys keep getting killed off left right and center. They're all fangs and claws and thrashing around. No cunning..." he makes this observation to no one in particular, as the magic from his cantrip travels down to the fish monster, and causes it to rapidly start shrinking. Simultaneously, it begins growing fur, large mouse ears, and it's "fishing rod" seems to slide down it's body from it's head to it's posterior as it turns into a tail. The transformation is horrific, in a kind of reverse cinematography kind of way...
The unlikely alliance struck, Diana's thrown spear is launched with a surreal amount of precision, spiraling tightly, gleaming and sparking off glints of sunlight right before it pierces through the eyeball of the giant fishmonster (in the seconds before it begins shrinking) and implaning into its (presumably) tiny brain. It begins thrashing and hlumphing and when it begins to shrink, that fur running over those dank scales, the fishing pole travelling down its body from head to butt as it shrinks down. By the time it is about a fifth of its size, the stomach area is already protruding with uneven lumps, stretches further and further as the rest of its body continues to shrink until the massive tumor-like stomach bursts like a rancid balloon, the skin peeling back, revealing the contents of its stomach. Alistair gasps for air, covered in disgusting stomach goo, his skin looking lightly acid-burned from the stomach juices. There are plenty of other bodies revealed as well. Mostly skeletons, though there are scraps of metal and fabric and a couple... books? Yes. Books.
As the transformation completes, a mist rises from the corpse, forming into a translucent figure of what appears to have been an angler-fish Merfolk... or is it a Merrow (points for Winston!)? It hovers there looking around at those gathered, its expression solemn, mournful. It hovers there, shaking its head, looking so very dismayed. "What was I made to do?" These are its final words as it begins being pulled up into the sky before becoming intangible and no longer visible.
Maeve doesn't even try to hide her gape. "What were /those/. Those spikey things. Where do you get those? I want to add them to my suit!" she exclaims, and then.. the shrinking thing and... yeargh that is gross. Even so, she crouches right down by Alistair to help him up to his feet. "Breathe. You'll be fine now." she murmurs, awfully solicitous before looking both the pooka and the goblin up and down. "Our thanks. I'm Dame Anima Trix and this here is Alistair and Conor. We're investigating on behalf of Count Grayle of the Shattered Scale. Fair's fair, you want to help us go through what was left here and... see if there's anything useful?" She's a bit wary, sure, but hopefully that's understandable. "Sounded like our vanquished enemy was an unwilling one."
"The Ariels are always such drama queens when they get got..." Winston comments cynically as he slowly floats down to the ground on his wings, careful not to land in any mouse-fish goop. His feet touch the ground within speaking distance of the green-skinned barbarian and her trusty porcine steed. "Still, he's not wrong. Kinda fucked up to just send this guy to some mud puddle in the middle of no where and tell him to start slurping down Kithain. I mean, talk about your suicide missions..." He tilts his head at Maeve's offer to split the viscera coated 'treasure,' "Sure..."
"Damn it, Bats.... I was gonna have fish for dinner.", slipping off her boar to reveal how incredibly tiny she actually was. Diana looked to the knocker and her compatriots and then the guts of an exploded mouse fish. "Now all we have is $&@#ing books. I don't how to cook any $&@#ing books.", hustling through the remains and gore, picking through shit. "Dame Anima Trix, look... I'm Diana 'Gadget' Boone and that fatty with a wombat ass made of spikes is Porkchop, my faithful steed.", nodding proudly. Then thumbing her chin, "We might look mean, but we are totally hero's. Switching sides, benefits suck on the other side of trod. As one of my favorite role models once said, 'I'm not bad, I'm just dreamt that way'.", sighing and brushing viscera out of her hair. Then making a heroic poss by putting her foot on a skull of someone, it would last for a moment until she fell in the muck.
Someone who likes profanity as much as she does! "Books can be useful, but not as food." Trix agrees. "Are you... you want to... switch sides?" She looks between the two of them, glancing up for a moment while picking through the grody thinks and handing goop covered books to Alistair and Conor to carry - until she holds up a robe between her finger and tumb to lift up. "Got some kinda weird ass ritual in them books. And I'm gonna bet that sorry bastard who tried to eat us participated in one..." She gives a shudder, folding up the garment anyway so that it can be presented as evidence to the Court. "On account of your help, I'll vouch for you with the Count and you can come back with us to the Freehold. You follow the laws there though, and there's no violence allowed. You mind that, I know both the Countess and the Count will be interested in what you have to say if you want to , ah, join the not as dark side?"
"I'll buy you sushi once we get back to LA to make it up to you..." Winston replies absent mindedly to Diana's complaints while simultaneously using the tip of one boot to kind of push around some of the items that are floating in the viscera, "Eh... I tell you what, ladies. Why don't you go ahead and split the haul between you..." He shakes his head to Trix's offer though, "No thanks. We're already sorted when it comes to courtly introductions. Friends in high places, and all that shit."
Diana pops up from the muck after enjoying it unwillingly a little too long. She spits out debris and waves a shiny and glowing pendant about. "Treasure, my precious!", not even sure what it was. She tosses it to Bats who might be more knowledgeable. Yellow eyes to the knocker, "Alright cuz. I'm trusting you. You screw us over and I'm booby-trap your power suit. Make it play farting noises with each step and that's just the beginning."
