Moderator: Rusty
[IC] Vignettes, Asides, and Hidden Moments
[Use this thread to expand your character, interact with others, or otherwise conduct RP that doesn't belong in a location or plot thread. Also, here you'll find periodic NPC asides. If your character isn't otherwise engaged on the indicated day, feel free to find a way to bring yourself into an NPC thread. Those characters are there to flesh out the setting, help the plot along, and to interact with the PCs.]
A distant call
"Come to me...come to me....I can take the pain away..."
Wouyo crept through the dense forest, the trees of tangled metal and bone pressing ever closer. He spied a clearing ahead, where the voice was coming from. In the glade a great throne was placed, facing towards him, and upon it sat a woman beautiful and terrible beyond measure. Her pale skin as white as could be, her hair carefully spined, her eyes red and her fangs sharp. Her corset held her tight, and his breath escaped him in awe and fear.
"Wouyo....come to me. It's ok. Everything is ok."
He looked down in his hands, cradling Kuglom in his last moments. Blood caked around the man's mouth and wounds, fangs beginning to form, his eyes dilating wildly, and a red light kindling deep within his them. He watched the man within die, and caught a glimpse of the monster. Monster. Was it new, or had it always been there?
The body, the forest, and the sky dissolved into white powder in a violet flash.
Wouyo stood, testing the white powder dunes in the expanding desert for stability, and found that they could take his weight. He climbed to the top of the nearest dune, and spied a shining city in the distance. Behind him, a darker city loomed, but was much closer. His name wafted through the white grainy distance from the dark, gothic city.
"Wouyo....hear my call. We wait for Wouyo. Rest with us."
The shining city was soooo far. A wind picked up, and the white powder blew into his face. He shielded his eyes, turned from the shining city, and started making his way towards that voice, that beautiful, dark, seductive voice.
SLAM!
Wouyo woke, his roommate having slammed the hatch behind him again. He tucked the armored specimen container back under his pillow from where he had been cradling it.
"Are you sleeping again? You're sweaty."
"Am I? Must have drifted off."
Wouyo's body was cramped, wet, hot, and achy. He stretched a bit. A foul taste rolled around his mouth. Blood? Vomit? Filth? He coughed.
"Aren't you on duty?"
His roommate was rifling through the closet.
"Yeah, but I forgot my steth. Can I borrow yours? I can't find mine."
A flash of uncharacteristic anger passed through Wouyo's face like a shotgun blast. His roommate did a double take. Wouyo forced a deliberate grin.
"Sure. Just don't lose it like you did yours."
"Ooooo K. Thhhhanks."
Cadro was nervous all of a sudden. He quickly grabbed the steth, and left the quarters in a big hurry. He slammed the hatch closed behind him.
Wouyo flopped back in his bed, as though he weren't about to withdraw the specimen container again, which he nearly immediately did.
He traced random patterns on it with his finger. The metal was warm in places from how long he had held it. He inverted it again, and again, feeling the liquid treasure within sloshing around. Still there. Still liquid. Still viable. He gazed at the unmoving, unresponsive container, his eyes starting to sting from time to time as he failed to blink them.
Did the salve for his pain lie in this unlikely place? The container, designed to seal the biohazard away from detection and leakage, was his anchor now. He traced his signature upon it with his finger, again and again. Could the contents quench his thirst, his thirst for relief? He sniffled again. His body ached entirely now, and his clothes were thick with sweat and wrinkle, but his pain went deeper.
The shouts, the screams, the blood. Kuglom gazing up at him, craving aid, receiving none. The Major, invincible in her battlesuit, dragged limp and dying like so much meat to the mess. The bleeding, so much bleeding. Too much bleeding. The impossible wound. He pumped blood into her so fast only for it to leak out just as fast. The wound just wouldn't close. He had no idea what the strange, encounter suit clad doctor had done to stop the bleeding and get the Major back on her feet, but it was beyond him. That wound, that fierce, unrelenting wound, as though it gazed back at him, as though it saw through him, saw through his petty efforts, and mocked him with it's power.
The hatch slammed again. Wouyo reflexively screwed the cap back onto the container and hid it under his pillow, where it belonged.
"What the hell! Are you on duty or not!"
Cadro was taken aback, again.
"NO man, I'm not. My shift is over. Have you been in bed this whole time?"
Wouyo was confused.
"It stinks in here, and you look like shit. I know you're on leave or whatever, but seriously man, get it together."
Wouyo scowled at Cadro.
"Look, I'm grabbing some stuff and getting out of here. It stinks in here. I'm gonna go to the Cantina and try to blow of some steam. Take a damn shower, change your clothes, maybe EAT something, and I dunno, exercise. Whatever you're supposed to be doing, do it."
"Thanks, Dad."
Cadro rolled his eyes as he threw some gym clothes and a set of civilian clothes in a duffel bag, grabbed a towel, and slammed the door again.
The sound echoed in Wouyo's mind. slam. slam. Slam. Slam. SLAM. SLAM SLAM SLAM SLAM.
Cadro thought he was so smart. Blah blah blah. get a shower. Eat something. Wouyo tried to remember what Cadro had said, but all he could remember was SLAM SLAM SLAM!
He raised the open specimen container to his nose and drew in the scent, sharp, copperish, blood. He looked at the sample, swishing around inside. Did this little sea hold his fate? This tiny little sea of POWER?
And not to yield.
Wouyo slapped the cap back on the container and screwed it on tight, and stowed it back under his pillow, where it belonged. Maybe a shower would help, at least with how uncomfortable he was.
Wouyo crept through the dense forest, the trees of tangled metal and bone pressing ever closer. He spied a clearing ahead, where the voice was coming from. In the glade a great throne was placed, facing towards him, and upon it sat a woman beautiful and terrible beyond measure. Her pale skin as white as could be, her hair carefully spined, her eyes red and her fangs sharp. Her corset held her tight, and his breath escaped him in awe and fear.
"Wouyo....come to me. It's ok. Everything is ok."
He looked down in his hands, cradling Kuglom in his last moments. Blood caked around the man's mouth and wounds, fangs beginning to form, his eyes dilating wildly, and a red light kindling deep within his them. He watched the man within die, and caught a glimpse of the monster. Monster. Was it new, or had it always been there?
The body, the forest, and the sky dissolved into white powder in a violet flash.
Wouyo stood, testing the white powder dunes in the expanding desert for stability, and found that they could take his weight. He climbed to the top of the nearest dune, and spied a shining city in the distance. Behind him, a darker city loomed, but was much closer. His name wafted through the white grainy distance from the dark, gothic city.
"Wouyo....hear my call. We wait for Wouyo. Rest with us."
The shining city was soooo far. A wind picked up, and the white powder blew into his face. He shielded his eyes, turned from the shining city, and started making his way towards that voice, that beautiful, dark, seductive voice.
SLAM!
Wouyo woke, his roommate having slammed the hatch behind him again. He tucked the armored specimen container back under his pillow from where he had been cradling it.
"Are you sleeping again? You're sweaty."
"Am I? Must have drifted off."
Wouyo's body was cramped, wet, hot, and achy. He stretched a bit. A foul taste rolled around his mouth. Blood? Vomit? Filth? He coughed.
"Aren't you on duty?"
His roommate was rifling through the closet.
"Yeah, but I forgot my steth. Can I borrow yours? I can't find mine."
A flash of uncharacteristic anger passed through Wouyo's face like a shotgun blast. His roommate did a double take. Wouyo forced a deliberate grin.
"Sure. Just don't lose it like you did yours."
"Ooooo K. Thhhhanks."
Cadro was nervous all of a sudden. He quickly grabbed the steth, and left the quarters in a big hurry. He slammed the hatch closed behind him.
Wouyo flopped back in his bed, as though he weren't about to withdraw the specimen container again, which he nearly immediately did.
He traced random patterns on it with his finger. The metal was warm in places from how long he had held it. He inverted it again, and again, feeling the liquid treasure within sloshing around. Still there. Still liquid. Still viable. He gazed at the unmoving, unresponsive container, his eyes starting to sting from time to time as he failed to blink them.
Did the salve for his pain lie in this unlikely place? The container, designed to seal the biohazard away from detection and leakage, was his anchor now. He traced his signature upon it with his finger, again and again. Could the contents quench his thirst, his thirst for relief? He sniffled again. His body ached entirely now, and his clothes were thick with sweat and wrinkle, but his pain went deeper.
The shouts, the screams, the blood. Kuglom gazing up at him, craving aid, receiving none. The Major, invincible in her battlesuit, dragged limp and dying like so much meat to the mess. The bleeding, so much bleeding. Too much bleeding. The impossible wound. He pumped blood into her so fast only for it to leak out just as fast. The wound just wouldn't close. He had no idea what the strange, encounter suit clad doctor had done to stop the bleeding and get the Major back on her feet, but it was beyond him. That wound, that fierce, unrelenting wound, as though it gazed back at him, as though it saw through him, saw through his petty efforts, and mocked him with it's power.
The hatch slammed again. Wouyo reflexively screwed the cap back onto the container and hid it under his pillow, where it belonged.
"What the hell! Are you on duty or not!"
Cadro was taken aback, again.
"NO man, I'm not. My shift is over. Have you been in bed this whole time?"
Wouyo was confused.
"It stinks in here, and you look like shit. I know you're on leave or whatever, but seriously man, get it together."
Wouyo scowled at Cadro.
"Look, I'm grabbing some stuff and getting out of here. It stinks in here. I'm gonna go to the Cantina and try to blow of some steam. Take a damn shower, change your clothes, maybe EAT something, and I dunno, exercise. Whatever you're supposed to be doing, do it."
"Thanks, Dad."
Cadro rolled his eyes as he threw some gym clothes and a set of civilian clothes in a duffel bag, grabbed a towel, and slammed the door again.
The sound echoed in Wouyo's mind. slam. slam. Slam. Slam. SLAM. SLAM SLAM SLAM SLAM.
Cadro thought he was so smart. Blah blah blah. get a shower. Eat something. Wouyo tried to remember what Cadro had said, but all he could remember was SLAM SLAM SLAM!
He raised the open specimen container to his nose and drew in the scent, sharp, copperish, blood. He looked at the sample, swishing around inside. Did this little sea hold his fate? This tiny little sea of POWER?
And not to yield.
Wouyo slapped the cap back on the container and screwed it on tight, and stowed it back under his pillow, where it belonged. Maybe a shower would help, at least with how uncomfortable he was.