[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/YDmPoVX.jpg[/img][/center] [center][img]http://i.imgur.com/QHrg7nB.png[/img][/center] [color=#D98719][B][SUP]S O L D I E R E N C A M P M E N T - Z A L E R A T U N D R A[/SUP][/B][/color][hr] [INDENT][INDENT][COLOR=LIGHTGRAY][i]“Hmmm. Oh. Don’t mention it.”[/i] The steel covering of the foot locker pushed open upon soundless hinge. The wind battered the outside of the tent distorting the wailing calls which it carried. Running a hand through his hair he looked down at the contents of the locker. The large engine head of his staff, a harsh cube carved from a single portion meteoric ore whose contents contained whirring pieces of archaic machinery barely understood outside of Rabanastre; blade and pole hidden within the cube’s confines sealed until deployment. He dropped the piece of metal atop of the cot that had served as his bed for the past week, fabric pooling downwards from the newfound weight. Quickly stripping down from his abundance of furs and cloth that covered his upper body. The chill of the tundra air a distant afterthought. He brought out a simple garment, long sleeved and black and almost alien to the touch. A moisture absorbing, quick drying, flame retardant and bullet dampening mixture of synthetic compounds and science that Corr didn’t care to look into - the only real piece of ‘military sanctioned’ gear that he owned. It clung tightly to the body like a second pair of skin. Checking to make sure everything was fitted properly he went about the process of redressing himself in his garbs of fur and cloth. They carried a surprising amount of weight to them partly from the sheer density of their entire assemblage and partly due to the thin ceramic plates woven and hidden amongst the strands. The whole process more like donning chainmail than it was a simple jacket or shirt. As he finished tying the last of the bindings his eyes caught something tucked away at the bottom of the chest. Beneath a pile of loosely assembled papers with various degrees of hastily assembled handwriting, peaking out amongst the pages was a leather bound cover. Despite the gravity of the situation, a small smile crested along the corners of the mouth. Brushing the papers he looked down at the book. A gift from a lifetime ago, something serenely beautiful in its simplicity. A simple tuft of yellow stuck out from within the middle of the text. Cautiously like one disarms a bomb he plucked at the splash of yellow and pulled it from its confines. Cradled in impossibly large hands was a small pressed flower, golden in hue. Long since dead it still managed to conjure up phantom visions of life. Particular smells and sounds dragged from resting places long buried in the recesses of the mind. A particular smile, a particular laugh. Caught in his reverie he didn't notice another body enter the tent until a throat was cleared. “Commander Rhinebeck? The Shyps are waiting.” A steady hand repositioned the memento and dropped the book back into the foot locker resealing it with a well placed boot heel. He turned a smile breaking across his features as the sirens continued to wail in the background. “I suppose they are.” [color=#D98719][B][SUP]Aboard the Shyp[/SUP][/B][/color][hr] He sat down as pretty much as far back into the ship as was possible. His eyes flickered across the space searching for fleeting moments of human contact, giving out any last gazes of encouragement. Then easily they fell back to the ground focusing upon the slightly raised hills of the rivets holding the metal plating together. He exhaled breath snaking out of nostrils in a small plume of white. His face a mask of concentration as he dwell upon the state of affairs. He already didn’t like the mission from the start. It felt the wind before a storm heavy and filled with bad news. And now the added complications only seemed to further spell bad omens to come. A sane man may have protested but Corr was not a sane man he was a brave one. He was there to protect people, he had a job to do and he wouldn't stop until that job was done. He buckled in the heavy restraints effectively pinning himself to the chair given that such things were not typically designed for such a creature of his stature. Giving the straps an experimental tug which didn’t do much to assure his own worries he pushed his head back against the wall of the craft feeling the metal vibrate as it slowly began to take off from the ground. The quiet rumbling, a low comfortable static to his buzzing aerial slowly fading away into peaceful oblivion. _______ When his eyes opened his was in a familiar space. An empty expanse of darkness stretching all around and all consuming. Corr didn’t dream per say anymore, nor was he plagued by nightmares. Instead he had whatever this was. He stood alone in the darkness, stark naked and impossibly cold. Somewhere ahead of him impossibly far like the sun upon the horizon was a gargantuan figure sitting atop a throne. The light being cast from it harsh in the surrounding darkness, making it impossible to truly perceive the Giant. The great rumbling cacophony that he had become accustomed to over the years sounded out all around vibrating through his body from head to toe. Corr gritted his teeth at unwanted sensation. Taking a single step forward he found the ground as it were beneath him sink. The ink like texture grabbing and sticking to flesh. He grunted out of frustration as he ripped the foot upward and took another step towards the glowing figure in the distance. Another step moving forward even as the figure seemed to grow more and more distant. The rumbling still continuing. His voice rang outward even as his mouth remained close, echoing and amplifying. It filled the space overpowering the rumble, a singular question. “What do you want?!” ▲̷͞▲̛͞▲̀͏̀͟ The rumbling intensified, the ground shifted and seemed to spin driving Corr down to one knee. The dark ink-like substance that made up the floor sneaking up the flesh of the leg like a tendril. He reached a heavy hand down and grabbed at the black substance ripping it away from his leg and throwing it to the ground as he stood up. He took a single step forward feeling the terrain give even more resistance to his movement, trying to stop him, trying to consume him. “I . D O . N O T . U N D E R S T A N D . Y O U .” ▲͘͡҉̛͟▲̵̧▲̨̀͜͟͡ He sensed it before it happened something impossibly large driving into his back. He fell plummeting face first towards the ground. Before where it was like a thick molasses now it shattered beneath him like glass. Yet he did not fall, rather it was like the whole floor had flipped with him in a roll forward, his feet never leaving the ground. When he looked up he was now at the feet of the Giant. The human like shaped blurred by the intensity of the heat, skin screaming outward in pain like standing next to burning napalm. His body froze, muscle tightened and he couldn't move. What was that feeling. Fear? Awe? He couldn't quite tell. The Giant leaned down form it’s thrown bringing up a hand - so big it could cup the world in its palm, down towards Corr. A single finger reaching towards him. His vision filled with the glowing light, blinding him. When his eyes opened he was no longer at the ‘feet of the Giant’, he was above the canal that he knew they would be crossing soon. It was day and the sky around him was a perfect shadow of boundless blue. And then he was falling, falling, falling. The waters approaching his vision closer and closer. As he neared the surface it exploded upward, a human face being crafted from the rushing waters. It’s jaws opened and swallowing the man. And then there was darkness once more. [color=#D98719][B][SUP]T H E C A N A L[/SUP][/B][/color][hr] Eyes focused upon a simple light fixture. A green ready light casting its quiet emerald glow over the surrounding darkness. Somewhere in his periphery words were being spoken but they were distant like they were underwater. He could feel himself slowly pitching downward. Clarity rushed back to the brain. The words becoming clear. [b]“Brace-!"[/b] An eternity later the force of the descent lead in one hell of a crash. The restraints mind to hold down smaller individuals flexed, buckled and finally snapped sending Corr smashing into the opposite wall. He managed to pitch his body mid flight in such a way that the broadside of his back took most of the impact. For normal people such a hit probably would of snapped the spine, for most SOLDIERs it might of left a bruise, Corr barely felt it. He body slumped to the floor of the Shyp in an ever increasing pool of frigid water. Making a sound akin to a stricken ox he reached up to find purchase to pull himself up. Hands slipping on now drenched material. He felt something grab at him and with surprising amounts of strength help yank him to his feet. He stood face to face with Natalya. Nodding his thanks he moved forward. Ahead of him voices swallowed by screaming metal and rushing water he saw some of the others moving towards the crack in the metal which seemed to be their only exit. He moved forward as he watched them disappear into the rushing water. He pushed his way through the water with his greater height it not being as much of an issue as it was for some. He felt the chill pull and gnaw at his skin and bones beneath his clothing. A small crack burst on the wall to the left of him splattering his face. The whole ship groaned in protest as light alloys designed for aerodynamics not for surviving rapids continued to buckle and distort all around them. Corr raised an arm which began glow harshly illuminating the darkened interior. Casting light about dark thrashing water and the surrounding interior giving those inside something of an easier path to navigate. He beckoned the other forward heavy hands steadying their progress and in some cases out right ferrying them to the exit as the water threatened to swallow their smaller forms in the ever increasing deluge. He did dive nor would he until the others had all gotten out. He was confident enough in his ability to swim. Memories of diving into the rushing rapids in the forests adjacent to the monastery and seeing how quickly he could get out. Memories of having to scrubs the floor for weeks in retribution for the gray hairs he had caused. Beside it's what he did, protect people. Corr never claimed to be big on the whole self-preservation thing. [b]"Come on people this shit ain't gonna hold for much longer!"[/b] [/COLOR][/INDENT][/INDENT]