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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Searat
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Searat The Aqueous Rodent

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The repairs were quick thorough. In no time Emil would be already be back to his position in the front defending the group. He hears their ghoul sniper make a joke about radiation and becoming a ghoul. "Heh. I'll take your word for it Mr. Ghoul." He replied to him with equal amounts of mirth and playfulness. He then stands up and tries to catch up with the paladin who had gone ahead of him. He blames the small tear in his suit but better slightly late than dead by radiation poisoning, right? He was at least able to hear what was said over the radio. Night time was dangerous already in the wastes, what more in Necropolis? A shiver runs down his spine as he imagines what unholy creatures will the night bring out. Maybe creatures worse than the powerarmored ghoul. Emil grimaces at the thought, it was more than likely that there were things here worse than the horror down in the subway tunnels.

The surface, or at least the lobby for the train station, was mostly untouched by scavengers and the like. Skeletons scattered about as if they didn't even know they died. He glances to one side of the lobby and sees a number of skeletons that didn't even belong to an adults. Some appeared to have been mercifully unaware of their deaths and others...others were cowering in corners or laying on the floor in the fetal position. One adult skeleton in a worn sundress clutching desperately onto something bundled in a faded blue swaddling caught Emil's attention. The bundle was pressed deep in its chest...as if her body could have protected it from nuclear fire and radiation. He stops looking at the that side of the terminal and focuses his attention to the paladin's voice explaining that there was a bank not far from their position. Though, judging by the sound of hissing when stray drops of 'water' hit the ground. "I agree. It would provide us shelter and is a fortified location, easing our issue with safety." He scans the room and replies to the group. "We don't necessarily have to run. With all the material I see here in the lobby, I can easily make somethings that could save us from the rain. Its going to take me quite a while to make one for everyone, but better than a breached suit." Emil proposed his idea to the group.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by ONL
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ONL Occasional Private Dick

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Brian "Short-Fuse" Muller


"...fine...Means more boom for me later anyway." Short-Fuse started to say to those disapproving of his master-plan to blow their way through their problem, primarly Emil. However the frown dug onto his face underneath the combat helmet, blew away as soon as it came, though the hazmat-suit did obscure the half-mad Texan. They were going back on the move again, which mean other places to blow up and monsters to explore! Or was it the other way around?

The lobby was a mess to behold as the group entered it, skeletons littering the place and making it look like a pig-pen. Just the way Short-Fuse liked it. There was even an information kiosk that still partially lit up by a terminal, which the big-ass Paladin Khaliya took interest in. Short-Fuse on the other hand made his way towards the kiosk in hopes of something closer to his heart. "Any of ya'll find a magazine with dynamite at it, throw it my way! Will ya?" He shouted to everyone, though they would only hear his Texan voice over the radio, perhaps a little too loud.

Short-Fuse searched the kiosk for what it was worth, only partially listening to the plan the rest of the team was putting together. What he did hear was "...bank just down the street...", "...fortified..." and "...run there...". The Texan looked up from his rigerous search of kiosk litterature and primarly burned scraps of paper, his gaze turning instinctivly from Khaliya and to the stairs going up. "Did someone say a bank? Sounds just like the types of banks they blew up back home far back! Let's go!" Short-Fuse said just before he reached to the stairs in a quick frenzy, turning around one last time to look at the group before making a run for it upstairs. "Last one there is a road-killed coyote!"
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Dread
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Dread On the sunny side / of the street

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Frankie Cabrera


Ghouls could be quite the comedians when they wanted to, she thought, looking over at Marvin moments after his comment about “being a ghoul" elicited a slight chuckle from her. No doubt he was probably right, especially in an era that saw nothing but death and decay of brain cells and flesh by means of terrible radioactive exposure. Of course, for the ghouls of the world, radiation was their only saving grace, which ironically allowed them to outlive humans that were otherwise withering away quickly by disease and pestilence brought on by the ever-present radioactive fallout. A bitter-sweet existence for sure, watching friends and loved ones disappear as you continue to love another day. Frankie had only ever met a handful of ghouls in her young lifetime though, and many of whom wished for death to come for them swiftly, not wanting to endure further days of hopelessness. But Marvin seemed different. He seemed to allow whatever flicker of hope that remained in the back of his mind to carry him through each day, and of course humor helped immensely. But she supposed that was probably the best way to survive such a life in the wasteland.

“It’ll hold for sure.” She said, regarding the perfectly executed patch up job she’d just finished along the knee area of Emil’s suit. “And if it doesn't. It was nice knowing you.” The girl smirked as she packed up her supplies and zipped up the bag before tossing it over her shoulder again. Yep. Humor was certainly one of the many keys to enjoying an otherwise shit existence.

At Khaliya’s command, she noticed the group moving up toward the lobby area of the railway station, and keeping within the center, she stepped in line as they descended. Each footfall felt like someone might actually fall right through the rusty, oxidized metal step and corroded, splintered wooden frame that seemed to be barely holding on. As they made into the lobby area though, the medic let out an uncontrollable gasp as her attention immediately landed on the skeletal remains of a mother and her still swaddled baby, thankfully fully covered and unseen. She didn't need to see the corpse of a baby to know what it looked like as she’d seen plenty growing up in her home settlement, as well as the several raider camps she was forced to migrate to. Sadly, even though children were said to be the hope of a better future, many of them never made it past their infancy. Frankie hated that the world could be so cruel, even to those who hadn't had a chance to experience it yet and judge for themselves.

She quickly jolted from her supposed reverie by the bolstered voice of the gungho cowboy from Texas -”Short Fuse” if she recalled- as he decided to take the suicidal course of action and run up to the unknown surface, despite the radiation falling from the sky in the form of raindrops. Why is there always at least one in every group who decides to forget that their actions might just jeopardize the rest of the pack’s safety? And with that, Frankie held her handgun at the ready, sticking close to the others for cover.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by HamakazeKai
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Bailey walks over to one of the stations terminals, her boots crunching on debris on the floor. She uses her sleeve to wipe the dust off of one and attempts to read the 200 year old entries.

"Maybe these can tell us something useful? They're a bit old but the last entries might have something useful on them."

She gestures for another member of the group to check the other terminals in search of some useful Intel about the local area or any useful supplies in the station.

Bailey is halfway through reading an entry about routine maintenance when she sees that gungho, cowboy wannabe charge up the stairs. She rolls her eyes with a sigh inside her suit, She cant help but think that this kind of stupidity is far too common among wastelanders.

"At this rate stupidity like that will get us all killed, Maybe we should leave him to his fate and continue without him?"

She knew she sounded callous but she could tell others were thinking the same thing, Reckless fools like the Texan never lasted long in the Enclave and lasted even less among wastelanders. Her contempt is evident in the tone of her voice and it's not as if she was trying to hide it in the first place.

Bailey looked back at the terminal screen and resumed scanning the walls of text for anything useful.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Lord Wyron
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Lord Wyron Reclusive Giant Lord

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John Delaware

[ New York City Metro - Blue Line ]

"Christ." John's expletive put to words what most of the others were probably thinking as they stepped foot into the station lobby. It wasn't often one was able to sit down and consider how large the scope of loss was 200 years ago, how many died in the flash of atomic light...how many died after, their final moments coming to realize the newfound hell on earth.

The thought sent an uncomfortable shudder down John's spine, one that seemed to put him especially on-edge. It was like looking upon a gruesome crime scene, yet, somehow, this seemed worse. Murder was deliberate; personal, almost. Showed the depraved lengths humans were willing to go over some petty grievance or another. But this was objective, dispassionate. To push a button and see entire nations destroyed. No one stopped to think of those caught in the crossfire.

The whole thing sat like a bitter taste; wretched, unpleasant. Yet on the surface, John seemed unflappable, as if letting the entire sordid affair run down shoulders already burdened by the rest of the world's weight.

John made his way towards another one of the kiosks, letting the Paladin tinker with her own. His movements were slow, cautious, honed by experience. A single misstep could make the wrong sound, shift the earth in just the right way. It was a matter of placement, weight, emphasis. Besides, last thing he wanted to test was how well his gun would hold against Power Armor, should that damned Ghoul show back up. He hadn't had the pleasure of seeing it, of course, but he suspected he wasn't missing out on anything particularly fond to look back on. Besides, that's what the mercenaries were around for.

Wiping a caked layer of grime from the screen with the back of a gloved hand, John typed a few commands into the keyboard, accompanied by the whirring of centuries-old wiring and machinery coming back to life. That was the thing with old terminals: big, clunky, slow, not much to look at. But they were designed to last, their insides containing the last echoes of the Old World.

The home screen of the terminal was almost eerie in its contrast with the rest of the lobby: cheery-phrased snippets of all New York once had to offer, sights-to-see after taking the metro. Public access terminals like this usually weren't encrypted, didn't need to hide any data when your sole purpose was to sell tickets and lure in tourists. Anything else he'd have to find would require digging through files the old-fashioned way.

John soon found himself briefly lost. There was no goal, no motivation to searching here, the Paladin had already found whatever information the group would need. But for a moment, he was seeing how the Old World worked. There was always something fascinating about terminals. Some had text logs left from former users centuries ago, others had key-information of what life was like before the War, the state of America, the rest of it. Others like this one, they were just simple, information no one would find important or even worth the look. But it fascinated him, a bit, at least.

Finally turning to face the rest of the group, John muttered in agreement, "I'll sleep in a hole in the ground if it means I can take this damn thing off." He moved back towards them, leaving the terminal behind without even a second glance; he had read all he cared to.

Apparently not willing to wait for any of the others, the demolitionist ran up the stairs with an almost child-like glee, something that threw John off momentarily.

"Fifty caps he won't make the night."
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by darkwolf687
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Servius Curius Proculus Vespillo


Servius glanced over the skeleton a single time as he passed, sparing it no further looks. He had seen worse things. They trudged along and halted at a Kiosk, where the Brotherhood Pladain Khaliya stopped to access one of those terminal things. She did it swiftly and simply, and Servius could not help but nod approvingly. It was good to know somebody in the group knew how to break the security on these things, for he certainly did not.

A fortified location to rest sounded good, given the breakdown one of them had earlier and how shaken up some of them had been, rest might be good for them.

"Then let us find our way to this bank." Servius replied simply. Getting out of this fragile hazmat suit was very, very desirable. He felt too vulnerable in this damn thing, a single nick could expose him to an invisible, undefeatable enemy. He didn't like it.

Bailey began to access the terminals and ordered the others to check; she seemed like the soldier kind, especially from that song earlier. He approved. Yet only the detective yet took her up on the offer.

"Devon, take over rear guard." Servius said as he broke off and moved into the Kiosk, holding his rifle in one hand and attempting to access one of the terminals with the other.

Immediately it became apparent to him that he shouldn't have. He fumbled around with the buttons to turn the damn thing on, it took him a good 10 seconds to find it. Thankfully this one didn't require a password - but that didn't make it much better, as he hot buttons slowly and with all the clarity of a mole rat.

"What's this... 'Read Me.' Hmpf." Servius muttered to himself as he skipped over the terminals read me. What stupid raider tried to set a trap up using that? Like anyone would be stupid enough to fall for that, you may as well make a button with 'Press me' attached to it. No doubt if he pressed it, it would trigger a bomb or set off an alarm or something. Nice try but I'm just a bit too smart for you, Servius thought in blissful ignorance...

And then came a yell, a heavily accented yell- Servius couldn't help but look, and Short Fuse went bounding out from the group and up ahead, vanishing up a darkened staircase until he was completely out of sight. Nobody from the group seemed to particularly care any, in fact one of them, the detective John, offered a small bet that he'd die while Bailey suggested they leave them to their fate. Charming.

But this man, though he might be an apparent fool in the art of war, was part of the group. And so, Servius thought with a quiet sigh, it fell to him to protect this man. There were no gunshots... Yet. Perhaps that meant it was clear... Or perhaps it indicated their foe had melee weapons, or else still lay in wait. Who knew yet.

Well, they'd lost the element of surprise thanks to him bolting hp there yelling. It would be best for them to move forward quickly to help their comrade then. Heavily armoured up front so that they'd be the first into the fray being more likely to soak up damage. Then everyone else could in from behind them, using them as a screen to get out of the choke point of the stairs in case there were any hostiles who would otherwise mow them down. Then they could fan out and find cover on the surface. Yes, that sounded like a plan.

"Oh, irrumatio... We must move up and make sure he doesn't get himself killed. Those with power armour, take point and be ready for the worst, everyone else form up behi-" Servius started but then stopped himself short. He wasn't in command here, it wasn't his place to give orders. This wasn't what he was used to anymore, but the BoS Paladin had seemed to take the role of decanus. And so again, he deferred and turned his attention towards Khaliya "Mea Culpa. I await orders."
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by darkwolf687
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Double post.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by ASDAValueMilk
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Monika listened to the Male BoS Paladin speak about forging on and killing whatever beast lay ahead of them. There was bloodlust in his voice and although she could not see his face, she reckoned there was a burning passion in his eyes, one fueled by pure hatred, she knew of it all too well. Monika wondered whether he was right in the head, however, charging in to face the monster that Emil had described did not sound like her idea of a fun time. Nor did it sound like anyone else wanted to volunteer to go with him on the suicide mission.

"Not ideal by far, but yes we have to go above ground. What was on the other side of the collapse will likely not be the worst the city has to offer, but so long as we play it safe and only engage when we have to… "We will reach our objective, and we will make it out of this city alive."

"Fucking finally." Monika thought as she moved with the rest of the group into the lobby area. She looked around at the skeletons still sitting on the benches and behind the desks. They would never have known what hit them, She only hoped it was quick for them. It certainly didn't look that way for some of the skeletons down below. She made her way to the row of terminals behind the desk. Wiping away centuries of dust and grime from the screen she looked at the screen. "Password required" it read "Of course, waste of time that was."

"Mea Culpa. I await orders." She had hoped he'd stay quiet for a little while longer. The words brought back... Memories, that she wanted to stay away. Monika smacked the top of the monitor quite audibly in frustration, both at it not working and at someone from the Legion still being alive. A few looks came her way "Wasn't working, sorry." She said in a rather unconvincing tone. To her surprise, the Monitor flashed and went to its main screen. "An interesting password choice" She gave a smirk before skimming through the various entries. Nothing interesting, no juicy 200-year-old employee gossip or workplace drama on the emails. She closed the terminal back down and moved back with the rest of the group to ascend the stairs to the irradiated hellhole they'd be calling home for the foreseeable future.

Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Alfhedil
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Alfhedil What do you see Kaneda?

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Khaliya, The Swordwind


December 3rd, 2286
The Blue Line

Interacting with - @ONL


A relative point of safety in the interim, the group seemed to relax at least a fraction in the lobby of the station. Several spoke of the plan at hand and their opinion on it, mostly a unanimous decision to go for some fortifications and hopefully radiation free lodgings. Khaliya for the most part didn't pay the rest of them any mind. Only a glance here and there towards a few notable individuals and ensuring the one with the torn suit was still mostly intact. He seemed to be for now. At Marvin's suggestion to run to the bank, she was at first on board with it. It was even her suggestion to make a run for it once ensuring the coast was clear, but the more she thought on it and the possible threats above… The plan didn't sit well. The correction was half-formed on her lips when she heard a fairly distinct accent over the shared channel.

"Did someone say a bank? Sounds just like the types of banks they blew up back home far back! Let's go!"

Khaliya turned from the terminal, cord still trailing from the gauntlet of her power armor as she heard frantic bootsteps towards the stairs and shouted out to him.

"Wait! Stand to!" If it was directed at anyone other than a mercenary collected by a third-party, then perhaps the order might have worked. Her tone was severe and cut clear across the channel, just over the sound of tile cracking as she was already bracing to move after him. Just as she had feared, one of the greatest dangers to this mission would be their companions, and here she was proven correct. Prism she could work with, and same for Monika and Bailey. They might not like each other, true, but at least they weren't foolish. As Brian turned the steps she heard his call back and grit her teeth, servos in her armor wheezing and protesting as she put them to work.

"Last one there is a road-killed coyote!"

"Oh my god, he just ran in."

Not even waiting for the last word to leave her mouth, she was in motion. In the background she heard the rather callous words of Bailey dismissing the man to his death, but she was not going to lose someone this early to stupidity. With long strides she covered the distance between the information kiosks and the stairs at battle-speed, slamming into the wall with a thunderous crack and following by bounding up the first eight steps of the stairs. Few could claim to see power-armor at full speed, most assuming it to be relegated to the status of about as mobile as a steel wall and twice as durable. And in all fairness the Brotherhood was wont to correct people of that assumption. Standard tactics was to simply advance in formation, lay down heavy fire and if that didn't work, then lay down even heavier firepower. Rare was it for anyone to truly use power armor as it should and to its fullest potential.

Right then and there, Khaliya gave the group a good indication that when someone wanted it, power armor was not slow and cumbersome in the slightest. Using the very same servos and pneumatics that allowed her to lift twice or even three times her body weight, it was a wonder she even touched the ground. Brian's foot had just touched the fifth stair down from the top, acid-rain splashing down all around him when Khaliya's hand grasped at the back of his collar and arrested his motion akin to one suddenly slamming on the brakes. It was almost comical how her grip forced his legs forward from his continued movement, while the rest of his body was pulled backwards from her jerking him back.

There was quite little time to react however, for as the two of them made their own mad dash for very different reasons, something had become distinctly aware of their presence. Even before moving into action, the sounds of the Necropolis above had filtered down to the group and already a few could have likely felt something very off. Everyone should have expected the creaks and groans filtered through the howling wind of the radiation storm, the cracks of thunder over head and intermittent gunfire of all things, but this was different. A soft buzz came from above, akin in a way to the cicadas of summer, but it felt very wrong. Brian's first step onto the stairs came with a click a hundred feet away, the sound gentle and echoing all around them. Then another as he began to ascend and Khaliya went into motion. It was harsher the third time, as if honing in on the group.

When both were nearly upon each other, the buzzing had gotten closer, a rumbling sound that no longer seemed as far away or as small as before. By now it could be felt shaking the walls of the station, dust vibrating on the ground and each click more insistent and violent as it pierced through their suits and to their very marrow. Khaliya's grip on Brian allowed her to yank him close against the chest of her armor, violently throwing herself onto her back and against the side of the wall. There she pulled him tight and made the two of them as small a target as possible as she hissed into the open channel.

"Don't speak. Don't fucking move. Don't even breathe. Make a sound and I let you go."

Then there was a thunderous crash of something massive crashing down onto the pavement at the top of the stairs, claws raking and tearing apart pavement, and of course that infernal buzz. Here the two of them could tell very distinctly that it was something alive and something incredibly hostile. It pulsed in low and long beats, far too similar to that cicada song for her comfort, and almost as if calling to others nearby. That was answered as more sung back to the creature slowly descending towards them.

"Everyone hit the fucking ground or hug a wall. Make yourself as small as possible and don't make a fucking sound."

Even though she hissed it through the open channel, there still came the violent click of the creature feeling out for them. It echoed off the walls, making her grit her teeth from the pain of being so close to the source, but it was nothing compared to looking up and seeing the creature.

In every definition of the word, it was an abomination. Hissing pools formed in the dense hide of the beast where the acid rain had carved rivulets, scale directing the flow down and to taloned feet that gripped each step until it broke into chunks of shattered masonry. Powerfully built legs carried it slowly from the top of the stairs, pounding into the staircase and nearly lifting the pair from their spot with each impact. Dust fell onto them, and for a moment Khaliya thought it was simply the passage of the beast alone that was making it fall from the ceiling, and then she saw the wings. Easily thirty feet in span, it had to scrunch down and stoop low in order to squeeze into the tunnel, the clawed ends of both wings gouging through solid stonework and working furrows down the stairwell. Then it paused, the buzzing ceased and it clicked.

Click

It was nearly thunderous in the confined space and so close, some internal organ within the beast cracking bone against bone to cause the sound. Echoing all around them, she realized why it was that it had been doing that as her eyes set upon the maw of the beast. Just above a mouth filled with multiple rows of serrated teeth the size of combat knives, there were hollows where once eyes would have sat. Instead they were smooth and rounded out, muscle tensing as it listened to the reverberations of that probing noise, mapping out its surroundings before once more beginning to hum back to the others. Steadily continuing, it moved past Khaliya and Brian, as if completely unaware of their presence and towards the main floor of the subway station where the group was waiting...

Click
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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Polaris North
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Polaris North How I Socially Interact

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M A R V I N H I L L E R

"Yep. I know what I'm talking about, Mr. Human." Marvin replied with a soft hum in his voice, obviously pleased that he wasn't referred to by name and only by species. He did find it interesting that at least they still kept their sense of humor. The last thing they needed was morale at an all time low since they're too tense. He knows that death might be lurking at any corner around here, but he wasn't going to let that get him down. It's dangerous to live so down all the time since it would lead to more accidents or maybe there's going to be a lack of self-preservation.

It seems that most of them were in agreement with using the bank as their fortified position. Marvin nodded to himself, glad that everything was going smoothly. Aside from the Power Armor Ghoul from earlier, things seemed to be going their way. Someone had been dishing out orders that wasn't Khaliya which made him look unsurely at the person. Perhaps he was used in a posiiton of power within a certain group? It sounded possible since he slid into it so naturally. How interesting. He spoke in another language too, just like the woman from earlier. Latin, right?

He was about to ask what they should do next - a more solid plan that just to run - when someone bolted out of the area making it a contest to get there first. It all seemed to happen all too slow to him. "Wait - no - I wasn't... fucking great..." He grumbled to himself as he shook his head.

"He's the demolition expert. I'd rather not lose him." Marvin admitted in the open channel to everyone who was betting against him. Honestly, he didn't want any of them to die yet. It was too early into the mission. He knew that most, if not all, of them knew how to cope with the death of a comrade, but it still brought him down. And, well, part of the reason is that the guy had most of their explosives and Marvin was pretty sure that he would be useful sooner or later. He'd rather not lose someone who might be important.

He was surprised how quickly Khaliya burst into a run. The ghoul had gaped at it for a moment before turning and then walking towards the area up, but stopped when he heard the thudding Khaliya made stopped. When Khaliya's voice went through the comms to tell them to make themselves a small a target as possible, Marvin immediately grabbed Frankie by her arm and then pulled her to a wall and then tried to catch John's gaze so that they could stick together. Perhaps it was because they were the first people who he had talked to or perhaps it was because he felt a connection to them - but they were the only ones who ran through his mind aside from the leader herself.

He slid down to a crouch and pressed himself against the wall, his rifle ready in his hands. Marvin hadn't seen what exactly the monster was but if Khaliya sounded that worried, then he was pretty damn sure that the monster was more than just a small problem. "Just fucking great..." He mumbled to himself as silently as he could but it could have been picked up by the radio by accident, though even then, it sounded very silent. He brought the rifle close to his face so that he would be prepared to shoot, even if he doubted his rifle would be able to do much harm. At least it would pack more of a punch than a mere pistol.

@Dread @Ghost Shadow
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Dread
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Dread On the sunny side / of the street

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Frankie Cabrera


It was a sight to behold for sure. The thick, heavy and virtually impenetrable armor of the mobile tank suit that Khaliya wore, floated with an almost supernatural ease across the lobby and part-way up the dilapidated stairs in pursuit of the clearly suicidal explosives expert. How could someone have made it this far in life by being that ready to throw themselves into unknown danger, and so quickly? Frankie knew next-to-nothing about the man they called “Short-Fuse", but by virtue of that name alone, she supposed he was a sad case of a number of severe psychological disorders. And yet who wasn't in this group? It was easy enough to blame radiation fallout for everyone's malfunction in this life, but that isn't always the case, especially regarding the vault dwellers who -for one reason or another- had gone mad for fear of the wasteland. Fear of the unknown. Fear of death before their life even began.

So what would compel someone like Brian to put himself in harm's way, especially knowing that such an idiotic act would therefore put everyone else in harm's way?

But, the train of thought came to a halt at the uniquely terrifying sounds of whatever creatures were above ground, and the medic could tell that Khaliya had a front seat to what was about to transpire.

“Oh my gosh…” The young girl whispered, her voice shuddering slightly as a cold, uneasiness crept up her spine. Even as she glanced around toward the remaining members on the lobby floor -most who were near the computer consoles along the wall- she could already feel the tension. “Why?...” Was about all that left her lips in a hushed tone, as the rest of that short time was spent mentally reprimanding that dumbass from Texas for a stunt that could quite possibly cost everyone their lives.

Khaliya's low, yet urgent voice broke the silent airwaves as she (commanded?) the remaining members to quickly seek cover and remain quiet. Just before she had a chance to react and duck for cover, Marvin yanked her back -startling her and causing a bit of a yelp in the process- and crouched down along the wall. She turned her head for a moment to give an acknowledging nod to the ghoul before returning her attention to the stairs. Fortunately -or perhaps not- she had a fairly clear line of sight to the top of the stairway, where the creature with the excruciatingly loud vocals and giant wings perched before slowly creeping its way down. Dragons certainly came to mind when she first laid eyes on the beast, something she'd read about in comic books and fantasy novels of old. Although unclear of the details from that far off, just the size and massive wing expanse made her wonder if they actually existed.

“I swear I'm going to-” She mumbled, in between gulps of nervous breath. “Do something really bad to that jerk cowboy if we make it out of here alive.”

Of course, it wasn’t in her nature to hurt anyone, per se, but there’s always accidents...
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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Searat
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Searat The Aqueous Rodent

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Emil simply stared in disbelief as their demolitions expert simply ran up the stairs, giddy as a bighorner seeing a barrel of banana yucca fruit. A number of the other mercenaries arrived into the lobby of the metro. Emil was unsure what they were doing specifically as the brotherhood paladin rushing after their overly excited demolitions expert like a concerned mother was far more attention getting than anything else. He couldn't help but smile as the thought of the paladin being the 'team mom' entered his mind. That smile was quickly wiped from his face when he heard her hiss out. "Don't speak. Don't fucking move. Don't even breathe. Make a sound and I let you go. Everyone hit the fucking ground or hug a wall. Make yourself as small as possible and don't make a fucking sound." His face twists into a face of concern and worry. 'The hell is happening up there?' He thinks to himself before following instructions and leaned casually onto a wall across the tunnel she and the demolitions expert had entered. He then tried to contact the paladin to confirm if something bad was happening.

He didn't get a chance to do so when he saw the monster stepping into the lobby. It was easily the most frightening thing Emil had ever saw, even the ghoul in power armor does not hold a candle to this beast. It made the common deathclaw look like a gecko in comparison. That's how terrifying the beast was in his eyes. It had to stoop low to even walk through a tunnel that could easily fit five people standing shoulder to shoulder. Adrenaline rushed into his system, causing his eyes to dilate. He could see almost every detail of the creature. From its massive musculature that supported its weight effortlessly, to its complete lack of eyes. 'It has no capacity to see us in the conventional sense.' Emil reasoned out in his mind as it produced loud clicking sounds and took tentative sniffs of the skeletons it detected near the tunnel. 'It's sense of smell and hearing must be exceptional. Using sound to locate potential prey and using smell to confirm it it is edible or not.' He hypothesized. He had little time and the only means he had of communication with the others was his radio system. He would be taking a risk, but he had to warn the others.

He slowly and gently raised his hand to the device controlling the transmitter, and felt his heart nearly stop when there was a slightly audible click when he activated it. The beast ceased its actions and 'looked' at him and clicked at his general direction. Emil speaks softly and as quietly as possible. "It. uses. sound." But no matter how soft he spoke, the beast had taken interest at the sound the transmitter made. Emil shut his eyes tight and held his breath as best as he could. Hearing the crunching of ancient tiles and bones underneath each step as it got closer and closer to him.

Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by ASDAValueMilk
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Monika watched on in utter amazement as Khaliya sped off after the idiot who ran up the stairs. She knew Power Armour could shift but she never imagined it was quite that quick. The tiles on the floor cracked as she sprinted over them and the ground around her shook a little as Khaliya ran past.

There was a moment or two of calm after the Paladin disappeared up the stairs. Then there was a very loud Crash. It couldn't have been the Paladin, whatever it was it was far heavier than her. Then her voice came over the channel.

"Don't speak. Don't fucking move. Don't even breathe. Make a sound and I let you go."Everyone hit the fucking ground or hug a wall. Make yourself as small as possible and don't make a fucking sound." It was the tone that frightened Monika more than anything else. What in gods name could make someone like Khaliya duck for cover instantly? Monika didn't hesitate if it scared the Paladin it was definitely gonna terrify her, she spun around and scrambled back behind the ticket desk that hse had been stood behind a few moments ago. There was something big coming, It stomped its way down the stairs and, the sound of cracking tiles could be heard under its heavy steps. Then is stopped. Whatever it was was at the bottom of the stairs and in the lobby with them. Then it let out a sound, like a click, loud and echoey in the confines of the lobby, then another. It was searching for them.

She peered her head around the corner of the counter to see what this monstrosity was. Monstrosity was certainly the right word she thought to herself, it was huge, looked like it would make your average Deathclaw its bitch in no time at all. It didn't appear to have eyes of any kind but she quickly withdrew her head back behind the counter again just to be safe; A pack of Mole Rats, Wild dogs, Ghouls, gunfire and even Yao Guai. Monika could maintain a sense of calm when engaging them. But this, whatever this was had filled her with a sense of dread that was stronger than she'd ever felt before.

"It. uses. sound." Came across the radio. She didn't see where anyone else had taken cover but she recognised Emil's voice even in its hushed tone. If that was the case and it certainly seemed like it since the creature didn't appear to have eyes, then Emil was taking an awfully big risk even trying to talk while it was in the lobby. Monika pulled herself as close as possible to and clutched her rifle. 5mm probably wouldn't even tickle that thing. But if it came to it and she really hoped it wouldn't she would be ready to shoot.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by HamakazeKai
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Bailey takes refuge in the foot well under the Cashier's counter, She had a moment to get a glimpse of the beast and has already decided she's not going to try and fight it. It's a tight fit under the desk with her weapons but she feels safer here already. She hears emil over the radio, "It. uses. sound."

She squeezes even further under the counter when she hears that as if trying to make herself invisible, It's too risky for her to use the Radio and she dare not move to contact the others so she decides to sit tight and see what happens.

A Pre-war propaganda poster pinned to the wall catches her attention, It reads "Courage Today, Victory Tommorrow!" with a Power Armored soldier planting a U.S Flag on a pile of Communist Corpses. A silhouette of the monster over shadows the poster and her eyes follow this silhouette as she focuses on controlling her breathing and not moving anything.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by darkwolf687
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Servius Curius Proculus Vespillo


Servius immediately killed his light when Khaliya's voice came over the radio. If he'd kept it in, he may as well have put up a neon sign saying 'free meal here', at least by his reckoning. Then he quickly moved to the side, dropping down into cover against the side of the Kiosk and a bench, keeping himself obscured from sight. Taking his rifle in both hands, he pushed up against the Kiosk edge, peering around the corner and watching a creature descending down the stairs through the windows in the side of it. It wasn't a great view but it was sufficient and made it easy to keep himself hidden and blend in with the Kiosk itself.

He narrowed his eyes slightly beneath the visor of his hazmat suit, struggling to see as his eyes adjusted to the new found darkness he had plunged himself into. Still, from just from its silhouette cast by the bright light flowing in from behind it, he could tell he did not recognise this beast. Some monster of the east, he supposed, perhaps the others would have a better idea of what it was. He froze as still as a statue, careful not to make a sound.

Clicking. Thunderous clicking, even, maddening and almost deafening. It reminded him of the artillery the Legion had at Hoover Dam, like the cracking of thunder as it launched bolts of wrath into the sky to arc down upon profligate battle lines... For a moment he thought he was back there, fighting his way out onto the roof of the dam and breaking another profligate line. But he was not there, he was here in a darkened pit beneath a skeleton of the old world... And this beast would not break, cower and die so easily as an NCR squad. But perhaps it could be fooled.

Clicking.

So it was a bat like being perhaps, it certainly had the wings of one but its shape seemed very different indeed. It had passed by the two on the stairs, apparently, so perhaps it had difficulty seeing, maybe even smelling (though admittedly their hazmat suits likely helped with that...) Still, he wasn't going to write off sight just yet as he wasn't close enough to see whether it had them (and Mars willing, would never be that close) and since even bat's had deceptively good sight... It wasn't a safe assumption for him to make yet. So stay out of sight and stay silent unless necessary.

Consequently, he had already wrapped his hand tight around a small stone from the floor, lifting it carefully to its side behind the Kiosk. If it looks like it was getting a bit too curious about anyone in the group, he figured he could toss the stone well enough to the tunnel the party had come out of or one of the side passages to attract its attention that way. The group could then sneak away to safety. Hopefully. It was worth having it as an option before resorting to fighting it.

"It. uses. sound." Came Emil's voice over the radio. Servius didn't dare respond, in case it was capable of hearing the output from their radios too. Too many of the group were close enough for that to be risky. He wished he could ask about how the beast looks up close, about potential weaknesses. About whether any of them knew what in Caesar's name it was.

Worse yet (or perhaps better yet, given their circumstance...), he couldn't see all of the rest of the unit and so might have some difficulty judging whether it had become a threat to them, whether it was catching on to them. He could see a handful... And at least he knew where Bailey was. Behind the Kiosk and under the cashiers till. He didn't dare to turn his head to properly look around the room, even though he figured from this angle he was safe from the beast. Better safe here than sorry, it wouldn't do anyone any good if he got himself killed trying to see where they were hidden. So he had to rely on only his eyes, and an ever so slight inclination of his head either way that wouldn't translate into hazmat suit movement. It probably only gained him a four or five degrees either way, but it was better than nothing.

Yes, Marvin had grabbed the medic (at least he assumed so, she was shortest) and was by the wall, he could just about see them.
Monika? She had been by the ticket desk when last he checked, but he hadn't seen where she'd ducked in. He didn't dare turn any more to look, as much as he wanted to.
John had moved off from the terminals, but had he ducked in anywhere? If he had he was just outside his field of view--he could vaguely see a shape out of his blurry peripheral vision.
Devon? She'd been at the back, she was hopefully in safety then. There had been plenty of alcoves and gaps to squeeze into back there (indeed, he'd been careful to check the lot as they passed for any sneaky ghouls or raiders...)
A couple of the mercenaries had taken cover around the room, hidden from sight. That was good.
Emil... Was that him over there? It was hard to tell with the hazmat suits, but he thought it was. He was fairly close - and the creature had started towards him. It must have heard him speaking, or heard his radio. Caesar on a bike...

Servius paused for but a moment, keeping his breathing as shallow as possible and keeping that rock tight in his hand, his other hand keeping his rifle tightly held to him. In his head, he cast a silent prayer for Mars to look over them all; Vos precor, uti sitis volentes propitii nos.

Now, it was time to act. This had been exactly what he'd grabbed the rock for.
He waited for the next click and after it had passed and silence reigned again for a few moments (well, as close to silence as one can get with a monstrous creature slowly stomping its way towards one of them) he tossed the rock in his hand off towards the empty tunnel behind them, which fortunately no one still obscured. He tossed it under arm in order to reduce his movement and keep himself obscured by the Kiosk and bench, ensuring that the sound bouncing off the Kiosk should keep him safe from the next click of the echo location and the creatures sight. He quickly readopted as close to his original posture as he could, just to be safe, peering at it out the corner of his eyes again.

He'd always been a good throw, with spear and grenade and blade alike, and was thankful to hear it echoing off in the distance as it bounced along the floor several times, skimming along the ground and then over the edge down a slope, landing in a small puddle with a splash. Mars must have heard his prayer indeed to bless them with such good fortune, such noise was surely enough to draw attention at least for a time, right? Perhaps it might be mistaken for footsteps even! He offered his silent mental prayer again, hoping it was so.

With good fortune, that would be enough to lure it off and lead it to begin to pass them once more. Perhaps it would even descend into one of the tunnels. Then perhaps they could make a break. Stealth, evasion and cunning. He almost felt like he was back west again, skulking around the rocks of the Mojave...
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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Lord Wyron
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John Delaware

[ New York City Metro - Blue Line ]

John had found himself both exasperated and amused by the Texan's actions, though his amusement derived more from the remark made at his expense more than anything else. Course, whether the rest found his jape funny or not didn't really matter much to him. World was a cold and bitter place; diving into John's morbid sense of humor was like drinking whiskey for the first time: caustic, vitriolic with a hefty dose of 'Why the hell would anyone do this?' But the next time would be a bit easier to swallow, as would the next time, and the time after that, until a few years down the road and that vitriol is all you can feel anymore. John couldn't help but smile softly - a genuine smile. He reminded himself of something his father had said years ago about never choking on your liquor. For some odd reason or other, John remembered the words clear as the day they were spoken:

'Sharing a drink with a man is like shaking his hand: you only do it for the first time once. A weak handshake is a weak man, and a weak drinker isn't worth your time.'

John's smile quickly faded as the sense of hollow nostalgia he had for so long kept buried beneath guilt and drivel threatened to rise up again. Oh, how the wound pained him, no matter how many times he cleaned and dressed it. He had hardened his expression, his mind, his demeanor; but his heart remained exposed, bleeding onto the pavement.

As the group began reacting to the Texan's grand escape, one of the mercenaries began spouting orders in a tone that spoke volumes of past combat experience. Any two-bit mercenary worth their salt was combat-seasoned, sure; been in a few firefights, boasted about some mighty thing slain or another. But a tone like that was different than just mercenary talk. It boasted gravitas; conduct; an unspoken, no, expected measure of respect from the others. On top of speaking a language John could only surmise as gobbledegook, this mercenary, if truly he was one, bore a past that set him apart from the rest of them. But unlike Marvin, who shared John's purposefully vague method of explanation to avoid unnecessary digging, this man's deviance was worn plainly, whether out of pride in identity or an inability to hide it.

Either-or, the mercenary quickly caught himself, falling in line with the others, though it was clear such an act was unfamiliar to him. Part of it reminded John of the Gunners back in the Commonwealth. Self-stylized freelancers who were little more than Raiders with prettier toys, devoted to emulating Old World military. Chains-of-command, organized recruitment, clear regiment, it was all a waste of time in John's mind. Lot of good that training did once the nukes started flying.

Khaliya's response to the Texan's mishap was...startling. Her shift from steel golem to superhuman sprinter was enough to briefly throw him off balance at the sight. Servos and pneumatics coordinating themselves in nearly-perfect sync, shattering the tile floor like cardboard before she yanked the Demolitionist back with inhuman strength. Then the tone shifted. Confidence turned into immediate tension as Khaliya slammed herself back into the nearby wall, clutching Short-Fuse to her chest.

That buzzing sound, like the wings of a giant mutant insect. That alone was enough to hike John's breathing. The last thing he wanted was to try and face a swarm of giant bugs, he'd sooner offer that damn armored Ghoul a cigarette. Then the clicking: a raw, guttural sound that stiffened the hairs along the back of his neck.

No, this wasn't an insect.

Khaliya's orders were clear, don't move, don't breathe, don't speak. Nerves were firing off as John sensed the familiar feeling of adrenaline coursing through his veins. But this was different. He was used to fighting men: Raiders, drunk morons who needed a punch to the mouth, even Synths were little more than normal-looking men on the outside. But whatever this thing was sounded big and hungry.

Slowly moving back against a wall at Khaliya's second command, John slowly sunk down til he was nearly level with the ground, eyes refusing to lost sight of this...abomination that tore through reinforced concrete, pavement, and tile like tissue paper. Up until now, he could boast at having never seen a Deathclaw in person, and right now he was wishing to have that privilege back. The thing was terrifyingly big, with flesh seemingly carved from stone, and powerful limbs like steel pistons. A massive maw large enough to fit a small child whole were filled with serrated, gore-stained teeth, with each breath between clicks emitting a foul, odorous concoction that bore the stench of human flesh. One didn't have to smell it before to know what it was, it was unmistakable.

The beast's fingers ended in talons the size of machetes, carving through the walls of the lobby with ease that made John terrifiedly uncertain whether such a feat was attributed to the monster's strength, or its claws' sharpness. But most terrifying was the way the Deathclaw moved, swiveling its head seated atop a neck rippled with muscle. It was searching, hunting, on the move. And they were all prey.

Whether the monster's entrance was due to Short-Fuse's disruption or if it was an inevitable scenario, John found himself quite willing to sacrifice the Texan to these abominations if it meant briefly appeasing their hunger.

Out of the corner of his eye, John saw Marvin reach for who he assumed was Frankie, given the suit's much-shorter stature, pressing himself back into the same wall just a few feet away. The Detective kept his eyes locked with Marvin's, as best as he could convey under his dome-shaped helmet. He wouldn't dare try to shimmy his way over to the duo with this thing searching for them, but as long as he kept a bead on them -- and it -- he was content.

But he found himself wondering in the midst of all this whether he could even hope to attempt to keep the promise he made to the small medic. His gun, his sole source of power, security, protection, now felt like little more than a water pistol staring down the fiend. A quick draw and quicker thinking will get a man out of most situations alive, but this was a first, even in John's experience. Of course, no one else would know that. On the surface, he seemed collected; hand twitching but clear-minded.

Then Emil spoke, the damn fool. John wanted to yell at him, shake him by the shoulders in a brief moment of unexpected emotion that yes, the eyeless, clicking monster was using sound or smell to track them.

That makes two: Short-Fuse and now Emil as possible sacrifices to the demon's hunger.

Seconds felt like hours as the rapid sound of his own heart beating pounded in his ears. There was nothing for John to do, other than sit still, and act as unappetizing as possible; which, given the state of his heart and liver, was a fair assumption that even if the Deathclaw took a bite out of him, it'd find him an unpleasant meal.

Even farther from his peripheral than Marvin and Frankie were, John spotted the strange Mercenary he had been pondering earlier shifting slightly in his place, as if readying his arm for something. Before John could ponder what, there came the echoing clatter of a stone falling down the stairs to the back of the lobby, resounding off of enclosed walls and cavernous tunnels.

Then silence once more.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by ONL
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Brian "Short-Fuse" Muller


Oh what joy Short-Fuse was feeling as he was accending those stairs was hard to explain. It was like the immense excitement a dog would feels whenever someone opened a door, eagerly awaiting whatever good stuff their man master was going to do to them. Whatever that 'good thing' could possibly be, only the Texan himself knew. Perhaps. He wasn't a very rational man, but somehow he'd survived so long in that wasteland so it couldn't be too bad, right? Or he was just really, really lucky. Short-Fuse was quite the ways up the stairs when he would have wanted to turn and taunt those sorry losers behind him, but something else ganked him first.

He couldn't breath as Khaliya grabbed him from behind and pulled him backwards with that superhuman strenght of the power armour. And oh boy, was the janking and not-breathing part painfull. Short-Fused was about to ask her what the hell she thought she was doing, with all that tossing and turning going on, but that was when the sound of Doom itself reached his explosion-damaged ears. All he could whisper under his breath, which was slowly coming back to him and therefor making no sound, was "...Holy Hell..."

It was an abomination like he'd never seen before, and good God was it ugly! And Short-Fuse had seen some ugly mothers out there, both radioactive and just plain ol' ugly. This thing was the works of nightmares, which certainly didn't sit well with a man who'd had his brain shaken too many times already. As it passed him and Khaliya, the only thing that ran through his mind besides the various bits and pieces of conversations over the radio about the buggers, was how much explosives did he need to seal those critters down in the metro for good?
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Alfhedil
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Khaliya, The Swordwind

December 3rd, 2286
The Blue Line


It was a creature of nightmares, raw natural power rippling across scale and cracking tile with every step. Deathclaw was what it was called in most places, the penultimate predator of the wasteland. Few who encountered one survived the encounter, and even fewer among them had ever been as close as this. Putrid breath wheezed from it with each deep exhale, its chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm as it slowly turned its head as if searching out something it knew was there. The clicks that echoed around the room returned to it and the horns crowning its skull extended a membrane from them that rippled with every sound around it. Though clearly blind, it was not without ways to hunt its prey, and as the buzzing calls of its kin above ground made clear, it was not the solitary predator that most Deathclaws were.

Emil's bold move to alert the rest of the group drew the attention of the beast. One step closer and he would see the talons digging through concrete and steel as if it were dirt. Each of the three claws at the fore of its splayed foot was stained dark with what could only be the remains of former prey. Another step and he would see the maw of the beast opening slowly as it sent out another tentative click, echolocation honing in on what was before it. Small orbs writhed in the center of the hollowed sockets that would normally have been eyes, pinpricks of a reflection in each focusing and shifting from point to point. It was not entirely blind, yet as it turned its massive head from side to side to peer at Emil, it may as well have been.

Two things happened at once before the beast could determine what was before it was prey. First was the sound of the rock skipping across tile and down the stairs to land rather loudly at the base. The beast turned swiftly, claws at the end of both wings ripping tile from the walls with the speed of the movement. It had just started to move towards the stairs and away from the group when someone else spoke up. One of the other mercenaries with Talon Company had watched the advance of the beast, and while Jeremiah was beside him and doing his best to silence the terrified merc, it was not quite enough.

"Fuck this!"

His panicked cry went out over the comms, immediately disorientating the creature as it heard a rather loud sound from all around it, but soon it had little else to focus on. Jeremiah watched on as the man made a run for it. Heavy footfalls echoed around them as the merc ducked underneath the angry swipe of a wing. It now had a direct bead on him as the party could only watch for fear of revealing themselves as well.

"Hold."

Khaliya's voice whispered over the comms, firm and direct as she had heard the commotion and the man's voice in her ear as well. Still she kept a hold on Brian, an armored arm keeping the fool close by as masonry went flying down below in the frenzy. The beast was giving chase in the confines of the lobby, and as much of a bigger fool the merc was, he was giving it a decent enough run. He leapt over the swipe of a wing that came just a foot away from where Marvin and Frankie were standing by. Another dodged just in time as the other wing came in a vicious thrust that shattered concrete and rent concrete. Terminals on top of the counters went flying as a roar that shook the entire tunnel sounded, actually cracking glass and flooring the merc.

There he lay disorientated as the beast bore down on him. One last shout echoed through their comms before a sickening crack and silence. In the center of the room the beast had crushed the dome helmet of his suit into the floor, dark red flowing from around the talons buried into the concrete and the single rear claw sunk into his back pierced through the pack. There was only silence now, interrupted by the soft clicks of the beast as it smelled blood on the air, leaning down to give tentative licks at the floor. Up above two more crashes announced more of the beasts coming to investigate, insistent buzzing between the three sounding.

The one among them sounded irate, at least more so than when it first came upon them. It stalked towards the base of the stairs, dragging its victim along with it and giving off low and aggressive pulses back up to its packmates. They seemed to argue for a moment, before with another roar it relented. Tossing the dead merc up the stairs, the beast followed as Khaliya kept still once more, watching it stalk by and rejoin the others.

For a long moment there was nothing following the heavy beating of leathery wings, until finally Khaliya released Brian.

"They're gone." Of course she had kept an ear out on above ground before giving the go ahead to everyone else, taking a hesitant knee on the stairs and glancing out to the surface. All three had left presumably to hunt down more substantial prey, leaving them in the clear for now. "Everyone to the top of the stairs, and let's try this again. Stick together." No one needed clarification as to who that was directed to, her tone alone enough to convey her displeasure at just how close a call that was. "Low and slow, watch the shadows and the skies. Let's not take anymore unnecessary risks."
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by darkwolf687
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Servius Curius Proculus Vespillo


Servius watched as the creature began to be drawn off by the rock he had thrown. Internally, he smiled and thanked Mars for such fortune. Perhaps the Shadow of the Bull walked with them indeed and gave them protection. He waited for the creature to pass him by, heading towards the back of the tunnel. Soon, they could make their move, he quickly scanned the place and found several passages they could try to take. This was going well.

But then something happened the legionary did not intend and which showed Mars had not yet granted protection to his comrades or else this one had proved wanting; A Mercenary of the Talon company, showing ill discipline as profligates and mercenaries often did, broke ranks and moved to flee.

Stultus, Servius thought to himself, he is going to get himself killed! Had he controlled himself but for another half minute we would all be safe!

Within but a few moments, the situation had gone from hot to cold to hotter than the Mojave sands at noon. This fool was throwing all their lives away. ; it wasn't favourable for them here, trapped in these tight confines with such a deadly killer and with several more of those creatures above. Death seemed likely now, but if this was to be their end then so be it. He would face it with gun and sword and the iron will of the bull.

Servius immediately brought his rifle to bear, taking aim at the head of the creature as it barreled past in pursuit of the Mercenary, ready to intervene and rescue his newfound comrades- but to his surprise he was sent tumbling sideways by a sonic blast as the creature threw its prey to the floor. It seemed this creature did not only use sound to locate them but was also capable of weaponising it against them. Would today's misfortunes never cease?

Servius was quick to realign his aim from his position, training his rifle on the beast again. He thought that his aim was true - as true as could be through the blanket of the darkness that enveloped them like the night swirling around stars - and tightened his finger around the trigger, ready to fire and as he did he opened his mouth to yell out for the others to join him for a focused barrage of fire might yet cause it to fall dead upon the stones of the tunnel - but he was stopped short before a sound ever escaped his lips for another voice spoke.

'Hold.'

Khaliya's voice came over the commas and Servius immediately stopped dead, as though he had been frozen in time. One word, one moment was the difference; He would not disobey such an order, and although he would never admit it even unto himself perhaps he was somewhat grateful for a reprieve from duty against this beast. Maintaining his posture as still as a statue once more, he watched as the beast finished off the mercenary swiftly and as mercilessly as Lanius himself. It crushed his head as though it were delicate china rather than bone; at least such a fate would have been quick.

The beast toyed with its prey for a few moments long, yet each second felt as long as a year. It engaged in what sounded almost like an argument with its fellows, roaring back and forth loudly. Servius did not envy those closer to the beast, for he wouldn't be surprised if their ears bled from this repeated and horrific cry.

When the beast tossed the carcass up the stairs and followed after it, the sound of beating wings fading away into the distance, Servius finally rose from the ground.

He moved a pace towards the centre of the hallway, rifle in hand, and checked around cautiously. No sign of the beast, nor of anything else having been drawn to them by the commotion.

"Is anyone else injured? That screech carried quite the punch." He asked as he looked around quickly, checking to see whether any of the others were injured by the outbreak of violence. That blast of sound had been power, more than enough to throw an armoured man and himself to the ground. Thankfully, it seemed none were hurt by it and so he quickly moved kn

There was no body left and it appeared none had moved to do much, either out of self discipline or out of a lack of caring for the deceased. The latter perhaps, as the stranger had been a coward in the end, and there were few things worse than being a coward. Still, the members of his own unit wouldn't likely take his death happily, and he doubted they appreciated being prevented from interfering as one of their own were torn apart.

Mars would be the judge of him, and it was no mortals duty or privilege to usurp that role; he would speak nothing ill of the dead. Perhaps the rest of this man's life might redeem him in the eyes of the god of War. Perhaps.

And so, Servius felt as though someone ought to give something to the departed here so he might pay his fee, even if no one there cares for him and there was no body to burn. He knelt over the pool of blood, grey matter and skull fragments that had once been the man's head and took a denarius from his pocket, placing it down into the blood. He looked towards the man's fellow Talon Company mercenaries and for but a moment considered asking for the man's name but he thought better of it in the end. For his part, Servius couldn't help but pity him.

Still, Khaliya had been right to order them to hold, had the other two come down, who knows what fate might have befallen the group? Certainly, Servius wagered they would have lost more than a single man. It wasn't worth losing more of them for the life of a coward, and especially not to merely avenge his death. Yet he couldn't shake a small pang of guilt for not having intervened, and worse still, he had acquired a newfound dislike and distrust of these Talon Company Mercenaries.

This man's running and his fate proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that they could not be relied on, they were clearly not as disciplined as he would have liked. No legionaries would ever have shamed themselves in a such a path - and no legionaries would ever have abandoned one of their own without claiming retribution. Even without knowing this fallen comrade, Servius had been within an inch of opening fire. Yet these mercenaries had abandoned him to his fate. Those people were not legionaries nor soldiers, they weren't unbreakable warriors who would fight to the last breath. They didn't even have the redeeming qualities of some of NCRs troopers who he has seen engage in suicidal selfless acts on occassion. No, these ones were worse than that. They seemed more like raiders or powder gangers, selfish and quick to abandon their own to save their own skins - well, they were mercenaries after all. If these mercenaries wouldn't try to save one of their own, would they save any of them?

The Legionary turned away from the macabre scene and crossed back towards the rest of the group, ascending up the staircase after their leader. They were all still part of one unit, and they had to work together whatever the cost. So he pushed the doubts from his mind and told himself that these Mercenaries, like everyone else, didn't intervene because of their orders. They all wanted to, but had to restrain themselves. After all, was that not what he had done? Yes, it was discipline, not weakness that stayed their hand.

He managed to convince - or deceive - himself.

"Ita, Imperatrix." Servius replied to Khaliya following behind her on their pathway. He kept himself slightly hunched over, careful to remain in the shadows and behind cover as much as possible as they made their way, his hands gripping his rifle tightly and checking the sight lines for more danger. He secretly wondered whether they were merely leaping from the cooking pot and into the burning embers of the fire; It occurred to him that if he thought they were easy prey for that monster down here, they would have it even worse in the open where it had room to fly.

He had to trust to hope that those beasts would not return before they had found shelter in this bank. Yet hope, it seemed, had forsaken these lands.
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M A R V I N H I L L E R

Marvin had trained his rifle at the winged deathclaw abomination. He could confidently say that he hasn't been this terrified in a while. It was so big and so close that it wouldn't even allow him to run away even if he wanted to. And if it had the makings of a Deathclaw, then its only weakness is at its unarmored belly and he couldn't shoot it at this angle. He felt his heart hammer against his chest and each momemnt seemed like a century. Every click nearly made him pull the trigger, but he managed to stay his hand. His will to survive was greater than his fear, at the very least.

He couldn't even take a look at where the others were aside from John. It would mean that he need to swivel his gaze away from the monstrosity. He just hoped they were all safe and calm and not freaking out.

Emil, he remembered the voice, had spoken over the radio which caught the attention of the monster. Once more, Marvin had his finger over the trigger, ready to pounce. But then things exploded into motion faster than Marvin could have anticipated, and he wished things had gone over differently.

Someone had thrown a rock that echoed against the walls, skipping down the steps deeper into the subway. The winged deathclaw turned its head towards the sound but then someone, foolishly, decided to freak out and then yelled at the top of his lungs. The mercenary began to run and dodge and hope for the best, it would seem. Marvin felt inclined to help him, but his head screamed for him to stop, so he did not. Besides, Khaliya's order was clear. He just kept the rifle at the beast should it turn its attention to any of them. To his surprise, none of his fellow Talon Mercs even moved an inch to help their panicking companion.

He stifled a surprised yelp when a wing came crashing down close to them - too close. If they weren't going to get killed directly, then they surely would seem like collateral damage by this point. But, the deatchlaw persisted on hunting down the mercenary and then it let out this... screech. It was powerful enough to push him back, a soft thud against the wall he was already pressed to, but it certainly made it clear that this winged deathclaw had more arsenal than they thought it did.

A scream. And then nothing.

He watched as the beast crushed the merc's head. It then let out soft clicks once more, but this one wasn't used for hunting them down, it would seem. It sounded like it was communicating. Two more thuds and then two more beasts of the same size and monstrous appearance came down. They seemed to argue for a while before they lifted off wherever, dragging the body of the Talon Merc with them. Marvin had watched a lot of people get eaten with him not doing anything. This wasn't any different. One less person to worry about, he figured. The smaller the group, the easier it is to maneuver around.

Marvin let out a sigh when the Latin person from earlier rose up to... who knows what he's doing. Perhaps it was a tradition from where he came from. "And here I thought I've seen everything this world could throw." He grumbled under his breath. As the person who had lived for the longest time out of all of them, he felt like he had some form of understanding with the wasteland. That was not the case at all and he felt cheated. His eyes trailed to the blood once more, the shimmer of the denarius catching his attention. Poor boy, taken by such a swift encounter.

He looked towards Frankie, silently asking if she was alright, and then to John, to see if the guy was still standing. Marvin, himself, was completely fine. He was more worried about their suits than them being injured. Such fragile things, those suits were. It only took a sharp rock or some glass to tear through it. Marvin couldn't imagine how they felt about their suits. Duct tape did the work of mending it, but still.

At Khaliya's order, he began to head up as well. "Better keep quiet too." He said over the comms, as if it wasn't an obvious thing to keep in mind. "Winged deatchlaws... wonder what's next?" He continued to speak as he went up the stairs behind Servius. Indeed, Marvin wondered what would happen to them now. Evidently, the wasteland was not kind to them.
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