Description: Rumor has it that the harbor is ruled by one of Kain's toughest gangsters. Rile him up enough, and you might be able to lure him out. If the Syndicate can defeat this gang boss, they will almost certainly take control of the harbor. Only when the other missions are completed, will this mission be unlocked! Syndicate faction! Don't be afraid to recruit non-Syndicate people to help take this guy (or girl) down! Kain faction! If you think your boss is scary, wait until those syndicate lowlifes have to deal with a boss AND his minions!
1 AM. Southtown Harbor. Qayin Shipping and Receiving Warehouses.
The harbors of Southtown had long been a battleground for what was slowly being realized as a serious beachhead. As the month has passed, the established gangs have been sundered by foreign thugs and hoodlums. It was a violent time. The established peace had fallen into a crude kind of chaos, one born more of fear than necessity at this point. The local gangsters had calmed the local businesses that the local strife was only temporary. And soon, fewer and fewer calming voices came out. And in their place, kneebreakers and mohawked punks, sneering and leering as they cracked the stoic exterior of the natural order.
A return of the Syndicate.
It was not easy for certain. The loss of one of the vanguard bases was striking; and the rumors of local dogooders and rabble rousers interfering with the Syndicate was not unknown to the gangsters. But for the most part, this was a time of great swagger, great confidence for the Syndicate gangsters. They had started this war. And now, they were winning it. And here it was now, cornered in the shadows of the Qayim Shipping warehouses, was the seat of power with the Harbor.
And to meet him, was a small army.
The movement down the misty crooks and alleyways is steady, even brash. A crowd like this couldn't be stealthy. But as the muffled footsteps tromp through the buildings, the figures encircle on the site. The defenses were said to be tight. Outside the brick and mortar exterior, there was a loading and unloading parking lot, with a barbed-wire fence and a gate. The building itself was marked with 'Building 3' above the garage door with a clean looking aluminum sign, There were no cars in the lot. But the snap of the wire cutter cuts through the air. And steadily, the figures gather. First five. Then ten. Then twenty men strong slip from the mists into the warehouse. It was time to finish the fight in the harbor, and bring it to the rest of the city.
It was time to kill the criminal underboss of the harbor.
The lack of stealth suits Katsuya just fine. He's not an especially stealthy person, though he can be quiet if he wants to. Usually, though, he takes a more direct approach. And so tonight he strolls openly through the mist, his shoes tapping on the pavement and the glow of a cigarette shining through the mist and leaving a thin trail of smoke behind him. He comes to the edge of the warehouse, pausing for a moment to take a drag and observe the building. For the moment he's happy to let others step in first, though. He doesn't shy away from conflict, but if anybody wants to spring a trap, he's happy to let someone else walk into it.
Among their number is that Greek-Cypirot Varvara, who walks among scoundrels, murderers, thugs, thieves... among the number of those Duke brought to bear for the first true, big step towards his end. Pawns of a wild ambition, thrust forth first through the underworld game of chess between the reigning power and those who look to take back old turf.
For all one can say about her physical appearance and mannerisms, Varvara does not stand out at all - not so much out of conscious decision, so much as that she is, ultimately, just another pawn in the game. Whether she has mused - or has the capacity to muse - over her standing in it all, it remains difficult to say. What she does know is that she's hungry. A sense of urgency, the percussion of footsteps matched with a single rumbling sound in her stomach as she even considers just tearing some of the barbed wire off the fence to chew on.
"Three," she murmurs quietly, "that one."
Whoever she was hired to help clobber better be sitting on a half-eaten sandwich. The clobber-ee, not the person who hired her.
Reckoning.
The gang was now twenty strong, a manpower advantage that would put a police station at risk of being overrun. With Katsuya, a team of four men accompany the experienced Yazuka veteran. With Varvara? Two more men. And of that twenty, half was armed to the teeth, equipped with 'R' supplied firearms and body armor. Looking more like guerrilas than gangsters, the thugs lurk around quietly. Some gather near Katsuya, drawn to his natural presence, that spark of leadership. Others were lurking near Varvara, balancing out whether her technical femininity outweighed her actual femininity. Action babes were hard to come by, and Varvara... well. She was maybe a babe. In certain senses of the word?
Look, some people were desperate.
The gang of twenty lurks bitterly, the silence outside hanging heavily, like a spectre of dread. A rather heavy-looking man, decked out in kevlar, idly inches behind Varvara. He slips a hand into his mesh vest pocket, pulling out a chocolate bar. "Hey, you uh... you look kind of hungry."
"Would you like a Hershey's Bar?"
As the bar is offered, one of the armored men takes a deep breath in. "Gonna be loud." He sighs, as he suddenly breaks for a run towards the door, a AKM clutched in his hands. As he approaches the door, he waits. He takes another deep breath. ANd then, he unleashes a heavy kick to the door, knocking it in. Swiftly training a gun into the entrance, he scans it. He blinks once, before fumbling for a lamp attached to his chest. As the light pours into the room, he motions for the others.
"I... I don't see anyone."
Katsuya frowns, peering over the armored man's shoulder into the room, then glancing around the area. He gestures to two of the men standing nearby him. "You and you. Watch our backs. I don't like this." Then he looks back to the armored man. "Search the room, take someone else with you." He glances around at the rest of the men, then points at one group of them. "And you guys, start going around the rest of the building. See if anybody's trying to run for it, or setting up an ambush."
It is by some grace of a divine entity (or more than one) that the hand just doesn't get ripped right off the wrist. There's a sudden, swift movement of hand that sees the brown blur of a Hershey's wrapper suddenly disappear into her mouth - she doesn't even bother to open the thing.
She also doesn't bother to say 'thank you,' muttering something completely indeterminate thanks to the chocolate in her mouth until something of coherence comes in what can be presumed to be the latter half of a complete sentence.
"--n they ran, or somethin'," a strong, sharp contrast to the careful leadership of Katsuya with his men as Varvara strides along towards the door, peeking and squinting. Intelligence was never one of her strong suits, and those two who follow her may or may not be thinking better of following her in through the front door after such a noisy opening.
Something was wrong.
Within the warehouse, it was... empty. No people. Few storage crates in the racks near the door. And the lights were off. The lead man keeps the light trained on as he sweeps the gun slowly across the room. He couldn't see too far into the building. But Katsuya takes command. The two armed men behind get their guns out, scanning around. They begin to enter, their own chestlight on. As they push further and further in, the sheer emptiness of the building is revealed piece by piece. This wasn't even a properly stocked warehouse. What was going on? The lead man finally mutters.
"Maybe there was a tip off..."
Outside, one of the men with Katsuya rushes past the stunned armored man and his hungry, hungry compatriot. Recoiling his hand in terror, the man inspects the craggy-faced woman. How lonely was he again? He considers this thought carefully, and with a sickening sense of weakness. The rest of the men begin to encircle the building, trying to find any signs, any evidence. As Varvara pushes past Katsuya's man, the woman takes point as her two companions follows, one of them snickering so HARD at the other. As Varvara enters, more flashlights are cast across the room. It was dark. Painfully dark. As her team moves in, the large man who offered the candy bar grunts a response back.
"Yeah, yeah, maybe they just ran away."
Katsuya continues to frown, taking another drag on his cigarette. They came here to kick some ass, but if there's nobody here to attack, well, what should they do? "I don't like this. If there's nobody here, let's get out. I don't want somebody else coming in behind us and trapping us in here." He glances between the different groups of men. "If they just went running, though, maybe we can still catch them. Let's get moving and see if we can cut them off." He gestures for folks to follow him as he turns and begins striding toward the warehouse exit.
Varvara does not bring a flashlight inside, to her complete foolishness - or perhaps just to her impatience, or some combination thereof.
Wrinkling her nose, she looks back at the lot of them as the lead man mentions something about a tip-off. "So we're still gettin' paid and all that, right? We better..."
A snrot, a snarl, and probably some other word that starts with 'sn' (but not snicker) later, Varvara crouches down, arms crossed as though something about the floor were possibly really compelling other than perhaps the oncoming disappointment of this potentially being a complete and utter waste of time WHILE SHE'S HUNGRY argh.
"Tch, yeah, fine," she grouses (pouts?), standing up and thinking maybe the Yakuza guy - is that what they call 'em? - probably has the right idea or something.
It slowly comes to the attention that you are not alone in the warehouse.
Don't be mistaken. The expected underboss isn't here. Him or any sign of his ilk are nowhere to be seen. More appropriately, what betraying sense is a great sense of motion, as if you are not in a building, but inside the gullet of some massive, indescribable creature. It is a horrific sensation to feel, and even more to behold.
~~~~
"It's a little something R&D whipped up in the labs," he would have explained earlier, to a few shocked troopers while watching it eat in the bottom of a dark pit. The steel cage full of goats has been ripped open, and churns, undulating slowly on the wave of flesh as the thing pulsates and squirms at the bottom.
"Shipped it all the way here in a tank in the caboose of the train. It's a shame the containment system broke with the fight with that spaniard, we could have kept it in stasis the whole time and shipped it right into the heart of their little rebellion with a rose in its teeth. Kind of an interesting question, really. Do you suppose it has teeth," the NESTS executive asks, grinning slightly.
~~~~
A single droplet on the ground of a thick traclucent gel is the only indicator of it being here. It's not on the ground. It's been lashed to the ceiling, in full sadomasochistic display. In the dark, you can just barely make it out, even after the lighting activates. Slick, sheening tentacles alive with circuit wiring and panels stapled into undulating, quivering flesh. A membrane slides back to reveal a single eye, and a red beam of light trails wherever it looks. The massive creature's span rivals that of the entire warehouse, its tentacles wound through the rafters, and in some cases tied down with clamps and wires. The entire mass shivers, and a biogel drips off of it like some horrendous rain. A giant cybernetically-controlled clone squid, a siege engine made for one purpose: Devour.
Tentacles slide down from all angles, writhing about, trying to catch people unawares, barbs and points flexing out next to suction cups. Anyone caught will be drawn up into the center of the mass, and--sucked inside, never to be heard from again.
Against that horrific entity, the burning entrance of Krizalid, a high-ranking executive from the NESTS Cartel, seems almost secondary. Swathed in a great coat mantled in raven's feathers, the man burns down a wall with not much more effort than the flick of a finger. He strides through the embers to the sound of the creature's horrific screams.
It's just a distraction, in the end... a backdrop for the beating that everyone here is about to receive. Because Krizalid has already begun acquiring his priority targets while the creature attempts to feed.
"Meat-sacks. Do you like our gift? They call it the Kraken."
COMBATSYS: Krizalid has started a fight here as a boss!
KRIZALID
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COMBATSYS: Katsuya has joined the fight here.
KRIZALID
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Katsuya 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Varvara has wandered into the fight here.
KRIZALID
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0|---------------|---------------
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Varvara 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
COMBATSYS: AlphaTeam has joined the fight here.
KRIZALID
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Varvara 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
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AlphaTeam 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: AlphaTeam has joined the fight here in the center.
KRIZALID
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Varvara 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
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AlphaTeam 0|-------|-------
Katsuya's cigarette falls from his lips, tumbling to the ground and bouncing off the warehouse floor with a small spray of sparks. "What the f-" He snaps out a hand at the armed men (those that haven't been snapped up already, anyway) and orders, "Shoot that thing!" And then Krizalid comes in, right through the wall. On the plus side, that means there's now two exists to the building. Of course, Krizalid is kind of in the way. Oh, this is just great. Well, when somebody brings a giant squid monster to a fight, talking probably isn't going to do a whole lot of good.
And so Katsuya doesn't bother. He lunges in Krizalid's direction, snatching up a crowbar as he does so. This guy looks like a serious threat, but maybe they can wear him down with force of numbers. If the monster doesn't eat everybody first, anyway. While Katsuya is pretty confident in his strength, he also knows what kinds of people are out there. Hence the crowbar, and the fact that he's trying to bring the business end of it swinging right into Krizalid's eye.
Varvara's nose wrinkles again, and the frustration wears on her face as it sinks into her that there really isn't... anything, visibly, here. Disappointment lingers.
Something drops. The very slight sound of some liquid hitting the floor, bringing her to look up. For all the horrific, ugly, dirty and disgusting facets of life on the outside of the comforts of society she could probably recount in a (roughly written) autobiography, there is nothing that prepares her for what she sees up there. She takes a couple panicked steps backwards as one tentacle grazes her side - barely avoiding certain death.
"What the hell is this?!" Her panic is as palpable as anyone else's, instinctively raising her arms with palms pointed down, one knee lifted upwards and bent that even the grand entrance of a high ranking NESTS executive with that fancy coat is secondary to the sheer, almost primal terror running through her. Adrenaline pumps through in that familiar, numbing manner, staggering and faltering as she tumbles across the other armed men across the warehouse to avoid the tentacles that reach out, the tentacles that threaten to catch, the tentacles that threaten to grab and consume to those deafening, frightening screams.
COMBATSYS: Varvara takes no action.
KRIZALID
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Varvara 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
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AlphaTeam 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Bioterror has joined the fight here as a left henchman!
KRIZALID
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Bioterror 0/-------/-------|
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Varvara 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
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AlphaTeam 0|-------|-------
Terror.
The men look up at the terror overhead. Mouths are agape, eyes are wide. Knees are knocking. The thing... the thing was too much, so much. And with the presence of Krizalid himself, something was not obvious. The large man near Varvara is the first to speak up. "Holy shit, that's the boss? Oh my god, what is going on?!" He sputters. Those were his last words, as he is suddenly snatched up by the tentacles. His screams fill the warehouse briefly, before cutting off with a sickening, wet crunch. It was a trap. It wasn't clear how far into the trap they were in. But one thing was clear.
They were in trouble.
Outside, the screams are heard, but are not reacted to properly. They could not see the Kraken. As the outside guard dithers and wavers, the inside garrison had to make a decision fast. Katsuya is the one who breaks the tension. The dread shatters, their ability to react coming to a head. They train their guns not on Krizalid, but on the creature. No shots are unleashed, while they regroup cautiously.
But the first man in is the first man to open fire.
The crisp crack of the automatic fire roars out as he trains an AKM onto the Kraken. The others follow suit, three men training their guns on the machine, then five. The men focus fire down on the abomination, as they struggle to take it down. Holding their ground, they roar out as they encircle. Soon, the other men would be entering. Soon, the rest would understand what was going on.
And soon, Krizalid would be the center of attention.
COMBATSYS: Bioterror just-defends AlphaTeam's Weakened Relentless Thumping!
KRIZALID
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Bioterror 0/-------/-------|
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Varvara 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
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AlphaTeam 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Krizalid blocks Katsuya's Shobadai.
KRIZALID
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Bioterror 0/-------/-------|
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Varvara 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
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AlphaTeam 0|-------|-------
Hanging from above like a funeral veil, the pulsing flesh curtains over the affair, slashing and gripping at anything within range--just narrowly failing to wrap a length around Varvara, a move that would have almost certainly gotten her eaten whole from the engagement. Dripping rancid-scented gels from above, no doubt the kind of mucus suspension required to keep such a massive creature supple outside of the ocean for long extended periods of time, the creature writhes in its traces as the guns go off, each playing obscene light off of the creature's breadth with every recourse of fire.
It doesn't seem to have an effect.
And then, the monster responds.
Suckers latch onto pieces of the substructure in the floor, claws digging into and wrapping around racking, emptied of all crates. It doesn't so much tear it free from its mooring so much as 'displacing it' with a single flex of drug-infused muscles. It is completely alien. There is no roar, no sound from the thing. Only the sick sound of drooling gel and creaking rafters emanates from it as it drags steel racking about chaotically and through the gunmen sketching a rough path after Varvara's evasive maneuvers, even as other tentacles in other regions lurch down to try and snatch one of the gunmen up by the head and ankle, and pull him apart like a wishbone.
"I see you're a captive audience," the NESTS executive comments, around Katsuya's crowbar. In the end, he turned just slightly, so the crowbar would slam into the massive feathered mantle and pauldrons that eclipse his head entirely. He is something kindred to the horrific thing above, something alien, something far too calm to sound quite that livid. Dark shadows drip off of every word he speaks.
"... Spend some time marvelling at the power of darkness."
Suddenly, Krizalid explodes into motion, becoming longer than one could give him credit for. He parlays his twisting limbless block into a long thrust of one palm into Katsuya's midsection. The force of the motion is strong enough to knock him back and off-balance, and the points of his claws do the rest: Deadly talons fashioned from thousands of points of wired tungsten around his hands, they are warning enough against coming too close.
COMBATSYS: Katsuya just-defends Krizalid's Desperate Moment!
KRIZALID
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Bioterror 0/-------/-------|
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Varvara 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
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AlphaTeam 0|-------|-------
Katsuya immediately starts taking a step back after Krizalid's armor proves to be fairly crowbar-proof. It looks like getting a good hit in is going to require some careful aiming for vulnerable points. It'd be good to figure out what those actually are, though. That information is going to be pretty crucial in the near future. Though at least for new Katsuya does manage to avoid being skewered. Just getting struck by that palm strike would be bad enough, even without claws. But Katsuya manages to lower his weapon in time, holding it in both hands and letting Krizalid's hand slam into a length of steel.
The force of the blow is still enough to send Katsuya skidding back across the warehouse floor, though, resulting in some raised eyebrows, and a rapidly sinking estimation of what was already considered to be a pretty bad situation. Yes, at the very least he thinks he'll be hanging onto a weapon for the time being. "I think I'd rather get the hell out of this freakshow." He lunges at Krizalid, sweeping the crowbar at him, but then suddenly shifts to one side and drops low, before spinning around and bringing the crowbar back around. The armor might be able to deflect a direct blow, but can it keep Krizalid from being knocked off his feet by a length of steel to the back of his leg?
Varvara doesn't intentionally lead by example. Overwhelmed, her vision tunnels in the wake of true mortal danger beyond what she can individually comprehend, and the difference between her and Katsuya in composure is probably about the clearest thing one could make in the haze of panic and surprise - Duke chose very well in bringing Katsuya Ishikawa under his wing.
Eyes widened almost to the point of jumping right out of her head, teeth bared as though the concept of 'lips' has disappeared from her person entirely, the fight-or-flight instinct in full kick. In her panicked dash in... some direction that doesn't quite fully constitute 'away' given how much space the squidlike terror fills, she clears over Katsuya as he spins down low, all but looping around back to the sights and sounds of frenzied gunfire and further sighting of all the writhing, deadly tentacles that snatch....
There is a certain helplessness in all of it, a real and true hesitation to chance grabbing that one tentacle closest to her given the sheer difference in scale - all her knowledge of how to grab, twist, and injure a human body does not... quite apply.
Yelling incomprehensibly, she fumbles for /something/ - a dropped baseball bat from the panic of one of the less-armed men among the troupe - picking it up and then starting to swat at that particular tentacle or anything moving the wrong way nearby.
There is terror with every swing as she tries to slam it down atop the tentacles around in reach, an incomprehensible repeated phrase that's probably in her native Greek tongue.
COMBATSYS: AlphaTeam blocks Bioterror's Scent of Blood.
KRIZALID
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Bioterror 0/-------/-------|
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Varvara 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
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AlphaTeam 0|-------|-------
Momentum.
The slime that oozes from the ceiling comes into the face of the full volley of fire. More of the gangsters were streaming in now. AS the gunfire is shrugged off by the creature, one of them is snatched up. A groan of pain comes out as he is latched on. But these were Syndicate Gangsters, these were Mad Gear. As a man is snatched up, his rifle falls to the ground. But his companions rifles were raised up high. Smashing the rifles into the creature, they begin to beat on it. The gripped man was struggling in the arms, fighting off being torn apart. And there, the men begin to hit upon the tentacles.
Just as more men arrive.
There was only one death. But as the gripped man begins to weaken his beatings, the others arrive. Armed with bats, and knives, and a few more guns, their attention is fixed on the abomination. Stunned in awe, but not beaten, Katsuya and Varvara take lead. As Katsuya unleashes a stunning reversal, Varvara rushes in. Behind her, the other gangsters pour in. Ready to beat down the creature, ready to beat down the abomination by sheer numbers.
Letting Katsuya tear down the Krizalid.
COMBATSYS: Bioterror just-defends Varvara's Random Weapon!
KRIZALID
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Bioterror 0/-------/-------|
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Varvara 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
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AlphaTeam 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Bioterror blocks AlphaTeam's Weakened Armed Combo.
KRIZALID
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Bioterror 0/-------/------=|
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Varvara 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
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AlphaTeam 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Krizalid just-defends Katsuya's Kuromaku!
KRIZALID
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Bioterror 0/-------/------=|
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Varvara 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
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AlphaTeam 0|-------|-------
The thing has a seemingly limitless hunger for bullets, as rounds slam all into the pulsating mass. Oh, truthfully, some hit a stray circuitboard and send scintillating electric surges down the creature's sinuous mass. Some obviously escape--stabbing, beating or prodding at just the right parts to force the tentacles open, the hazard discarding them as a livid dripping mess on the ground. Others aren't so lucky.
The Greek's bat slams into the corded mass of flesh closest with a wet spacking sound, a sickening thump that causes a visible tremor of tissue all across the iridescent skin of the tendril. But it doesn't recoil, instead snapping tight around the improvised weapon, coiling it up as it begins to snap the individual fibers that make up the hardwood in its tension. Incomprehensibly strong, the muscular limb twitches, obeying the scheme of wiring just barely visible beneath its translucent skin. It rolls tightly against the bat, and begins to follow it, forcing Varvara closer in violent jerks. If she holds onto the bat for even a second too long, the next thing she'll feel is wet gelid flesh as it latches cups and hooked chitin barbs onto and into her tightly, drawing her up towards the main mass in the ceiling, and an incomprehensible triple-set of jaws not even found in nature. THe creature projects the mass outwards, and opens the barbed maw wide.
Krizalid had noticed some time after the creature had been mored here that it did, in fact, have teeth. If you counted those rows of barbs as teeth. He never managed to count them, though. Maybe he can ask Varvara later. If there even is a later for her.
The crow killer leans back violently, thrusting a leg in perfect time with Katsuya's attack as if he read him entirely like a book. The crowbar is caught against the back edge of his boot, and the weight of the blow is countermanded by the weight of the commander himself, in tune to force the former Yakuza off-balance while maintaining his own perfectly.
"Don't bother," Krizalid continues calmly. Despite the even of his tone, it always seems as if he is seething, from the intensity in his eyes. "There are people in the world who can use pointless junk in a fight." The heat around him seems to build as his talons crackle with power, barely suppressed by the limiter coils in his arms.
"You're not one of them."
Suddenly, the area around Krizalid is flayed instantly as the commander flashes talons in front of him, arcing a blade of dark chi in its wake, his body bending in unnatural ways as he sketches out a backhanded spasm uppercut, his arm going wide in a deliberately exaggerated, alien motion, leaving black, ionized air arcing over him, and black feathers scattering through the air from the fringes of his mantle.
COMBATSYS: Krizalid successfully hits Katsuya with Rising Darkmoon.
KRIZALID
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Bioterror 0/-------/------=|
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Varvara 0/-------/-------|=======\=------\1 Katsuya
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|-------
The downside to wearing nice clothes is that they can get pretty torn up in a fight. Especially when you're dealing with someone a lot tougher than you are. Krizalid's hand slams into Katsuya, which is bad enough, and by itself is enough to knock him up off his feet and send the crowbar flying from his hand. But then there's the chi that comes along with it, and blood sprays out from Katsuya's chest as his shirt is ripped open without even actually being touched.
But while he may be bloodied, Katsuya is still pretty tough. And he's flexible. He manages to stabilize himself enough in the air that he manages to land mostly on his feet, though in a crouch. His vision is a bit blurred, but he can still see where Krizalid is. And since Krizalid is still standing between him and getting the hell out of here, well, the options are limited. Since he still doesn't think body blows are going to work well, Katsuya leaps up, springing at Krizalid with a hand extended for his throat. At the same time he tries to stomp out with one foot toward the NESTS man's knee, while wrenching his neck to one side. If he can get him on the ground, that might provide an opening.
COMBATSYS: Varvara blocks Bioterror's Rending Bite.
KRIZALID
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|---------======
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 0/-------/-----==|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-------|=======\-------\1 Katsuya
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|-------
Varvara makes what would be a fatal mistake for just about anyone else present here - when the /thing/ wraps one of those tentacles around the bat, she fights to keep it. It's sheer hysteria that makes her think she ought to try and get into a tug-o'-war battle against something so unfathomably stronger than her. In spite of her far smaller size, she puts up about as good of a fight as anyone in such a one-sided tug. Which is to say, it doesn't take one tug, it takes two.
Two for her to lose her balance and fall to her knees as she's wrapped up in the disgusting flesh and barbs pierce her skin.
Her screams are some mathematically indeterminate portions between fear and anger that doesn't quite come off as half and half, though which part is which is probably not the first question anyone wants to come up with a mathematical proof for when there is the matter of a giant horror of a tentacled... thing.
She struggles visibly to pry herself free against the squeezing tentacles, her muscles straining themselves significantly with every flex, every movement, feet kicking helplessly in the air as her palms go to either side of the wrapping around her. She tugs, she tugs, and she tugs, even as the barbs cut into her - and perhaps aggravate what injuries she sustains in doing so.
It's with one final push with her arms to lift and kick herself up and out, foot grazing a sharp tooth in a clumsy handstand off of slick flesh that sees her sliding into freefall towards the hard warehouse floor - lightly lacerated around her entire upper torso but largely in better shape than if she got scooped into those teeth.
She leans to a side in her fall to try and minimize the impact damage of her collision with the ground, a writhing tentacle likely to be accidental cushion to break her fall. Her heart pumps ever faster, a hollow ringing in her head from what could have been the end of her right then and there.
What could stop this thing?!
The man is released, finally. But he was not in a fighting condition. Limping upright, he takes a single step before collapsing into a heap. The others keep up the pressure, until the creature lashses out to the wrestler. Her screams... seem to embolden the fighters. And what is the ultimate priority of the gangsters?
"Protect the woman!"
The focus fire shifts from the limbs towards the body. The men were circling the creature, uncertain of how to save Varvara. And where there was hesitation, it begins to spread. Now most of the men had returned into the building, into the sight of inaction. With her screams and violence, it almost seems like it is helping her more by NOT smashing the tentacles. There is a muttering. But then, a roar to meet the scream. Rushing from the wall, comes the man who gave her the candy bar. He was not armed with a gun now, though.
It was a fire axe.
The large soldier, armed with the axe, charges towards the abomination. Weapon raised high, he dives upon the tentacled monster. Aiming straight for the limb wrapped around Varvara's body. Hurling the weapon downward violently, he attempts to sever the limb cleanly off, to break Varvara free from the grips. Not because he thinks she can't break out herself.
Because that candy bar was a sunk cost.
COMBATSYS: Bioterror dodges AlphaTeam's Weakened Fierce Strike.
KRIZALID
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|---------======
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 0/-------/-----==|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-------|=======\-------\1 Katsuya
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Bioterror blocks Varvara's Light Kick.
KRIZALID
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|---------======
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/------=|=======\-------\1 Katsuya
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Katsuya successfully hits Krizalid with Kakuseizai.
- Power hit! -
# Disabling hit! #
KRIZALID
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-----==========
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/------=|=======\==-----\1 Katsuya
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|-------
Everything about the pulsating mass of cold oceanic flesh is painful and difficult to escape--the myriad knobby cups on the twisting limb suck painfully at flesh and raise viciously bloody red welts wherever they stick onto. To say the experience is monstrous would be an understatement--its tendrils crush and pierce violently with every curling twist of its limbs, and any normal person would have simply had the life choked out of them right then and there. Luckily, Varvara is not so weak, and she has more than a few points of luck on her side.
Gripping at the primally-repulsed woman as she worms free of its foul-smelling maw, the tentacles of the beast lash about violently when she falls across them, dripping with the fetid slime of biogel mucus. It would seem to have at least another shot at worming their way around her again, if it weren't for the thug roaring from the side with a fire axe to slay the serpent, cutting into it with a violent fervor unlike any other.
Unfortunately, the thrashing of the limb makes it hard to make a clean cut, so the effect has more similarity to hacking at a tree trunk than beheading a dragon. Though dark navy blue blood flows into and around pockets of the gel suspension around it, the limb undulates, and then snaps around violently to try and wrap around the heroic thug's head, and start to crush it before he has any more bright ideas. If it gets a good hold on him, it'll slowly and inexorably carry him up to its dripping maw, to take the place of its meal from only a moment ago.
Krizalid, in the meantime, is harried by the rushing blow of the former Yakuza. Perhaps more than a little drunk off of the scent of fresh blood in the air, the NESTS executive chuckles darkly, his limbs hanging loose at his sides as he looks up at the onrushing man. He grins a white, fangish, predator's grin, as his claws open wide. "Let's do this!!!!"
Katsuya hits him like oncoming traffic, brutally wrenching his neck to one side and slamming his boot through the executive's knee, and in turn, hitting Krizalid is a little bit like hitting a brick wall with a sledgehammer--it takes every ounce of strength you have to do even a little bit of damage. There truthfully is no real exposed part of his suit--every inch of him is swathed in black leather and buckle,s and his neck is behind a standing collar that eclipses everything but his eyes. But still, striking him with all of your ability, hitting him exactly that hard and not an ounce weaker--works. THe commander curses something wordless and vile as he falls back onto the ground, multiple warnings flickering across his wetwired vision. This clsoe to him, you can almost see the lights and shadows of the images flickering onto the back of his retinas.
/!\ Alert! Physical integrity down 23%.
Analysis confirmed. Street-type style confirmed.
Significant (20%) impairment damage to lower left leg.
. . .compensating.
"Not bad," Krizalid hisses. His palm slams flat into Katsuya's midsection painlessly. It's not because he's feeling particularly weak. It's because he's building up power, more of that dark lightning crawling across the limiter coils mounted on his forearms. "Maybe I'll have something special made out of your hide and use it to train my troops..." From the flat of his palm, energy belches out in extreme quantity, a blast made of compressed lightning--or something like it--erupting into the space between them. It's not like normal lightning, at least in the sense that this energy is made of black, and is colder than one would care to admit being exposed to it for the first time. Though certainly bone-jolting much in the same way as normal lightning, this has form, and function, threatening to knock Katsuya aside with no thought or concern as to what strategy he's trying. It writhes and jitters as if alive, as if malicious of its own accord. It isn't the lightning you'd see from normal users of storm chi. It's something else entirely. Something darker.
Something not natural at all.
COMBATSYS: Krizalid successfully hits Katsuya with Negative Anguish.
-+- CALCULATED HIT -+-
KRIZALID
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|===============
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/------=|=======\=======\1 Katsuya
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|-------
Katsuya lacks the sophisticated equipment to tell him exactly how damaging that attack was, but he can provide a rough estimate based on how much it hurt. Which was a lot. The Yakuza flies back from Krizalid, trailing black energy, before crashing flat on his back to the floor. It takes a few moments for his body to remember to breathe, at which he's racked by a series of coughs before starting to push himself back up. This is way, way beyond what he was expecting to find here. On the plus side, it looks like the Syndicate's efforts are having an effect. That's not much of a consolation right now, though.
Pulling himself up with the wall, Katsuya takes stock. Not a lot of good options right now, but... he glances at the wall next to him, then wrenches free the fire extinguisher mounted there, before turning the hose on Krizalid. He's got no expectation this actually /hurting/ the man, but it might surprise him for a bit. And then having the extinguisher actually hurled at his face, well, that might hurt. Or at least provide a further distraction, because Katsuya is running up behind it, even while it's in the air. Krizalid's armor might be tough, but so are his fists... so if he's got the opportunity, he's going to try to see just how much that armor can take. The Yakuza unleashes a machinegun flurry of blows to Krizalid's torso, stepping into them and trying to drive him back, before stomping down hard on the other man's toes while driving the heel of his palm toward Krizalid's nose.
COMBATSYS: Katsuya blitzes into action and acts again!
KRIZALID
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|===============
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/------=|=======\=------\1 Katsuya
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|-------
The Greek-Cypirot wrestler hisses as a sharp sting runs across her hip as she tumbles across the - a barbed tentacle actually isn't that much of a cushion. The haze of fear and the grasp of tension weighs heavier and heavier as she staggers back to her feet, current cuts inflicted from her struggle and fall the worst of it. The axe-wielding thug is only briefly regarded as some blip to an as-of-yet unreadable, incomprehensible radar that is Varvara's adrenaline-addled mind.
When that tentacle goes to wrap about the thug's head, her thoughts are much less swift. By the time she has the inkling of a selfless idea within the sea of well-ingrained habits and thoughts to rather think entirely for herself that maybe she could pull the guy out, it's likely too late for her to even reach for him in time (unless he manages to save himself). The floor grows ever slicker with every passing moment, the horror ever greater to behold with every passing moment... and that cold, clammy, and scratchy touch of a tentacle her ankle brushes up against...
With a shriek, she brings her forearms to her face to blot out the sight and sweeps a striking leg outwards to try and batter one such tentacle away, her breathing increasingly irregular as her heartbeat maintains its fear-induced increased rhythm.
COMBATSYS: AlphaTeam blocks Bioterror's Gaping Maw.
KRIZALID
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|===============
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|------=
And who said selfless deeds were never unrewarded.
The grazing wound upon the limb was not what was intended. "Are you all right-" He begins, as he steps towards Varvara. But that moment of distraction is all that is needed. He catches a glimpse of the lashing. Stepping forward to defend Varvara, he doesn't expect it to be coming straight for him. The axe drops, an arm rises to protect his face. A block, yes. But now, the man was snatched up by a tentacle, and his head was just short of being crushed like a grape thanks to his natural toughness and that arm. But he was helpless, and as the barbs and suckers burn his skin, there isn't a scream. There is a whimper.
"help me"
The rest of the gangsters were inside the warehouse now, and while they were not 20 strong any more, they were still a mob. And while Katsuya was occupied with the true leader, they finally react. Coordination falls apart as morale remains high. Clubs and bats and knives and hatchets and pipes and guns all train upon the single abomination as they surge in. Mobbing was the key word here, they were mobbing the creature with raw numbers. To break it. To smash it.
Before it smashed them first.
COMBATSYS: AlphaTeam successfully hits Bioterror with Weakened Gang-Up Beating.
KRIZALID
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|===============
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 1/-------/=======|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|-----==
COMBATSYS: Varvara successfully hits Bioterror with Weakened Swollen Foot.
- Power hit! -
KRIZALID
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|===============
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 1/-----==/=======|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|-----==
COMBATSYS: Krizalid endures Katsuya's Mikameji-ryo.
KRIZALID
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
1|-----------====|===============
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 1/-----==/=======|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|-----==
COMBATSYS: Krizalid interrupts Large Thrown Object from Katsuya with Desperate Overdrive.
KRIZALID
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-------------==
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 1/-----==/=======|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ]
Varvara 0/-------/-----==|=======\====---\1 Katsuya
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|-----==
Things were looking grim.
As the bioterror hefts the doll-like mass of the thug into the air on one bleeding, dripping tendril, it comes just short of crushing his skull in its muscular grip. Caught with one arm likely dislocated inside the creature's twisting grip, it's almost impossible to escape once Varvara shows the hesitation. The thug doesn't have the presence of mind to fight it. And slowly, he's lifted into the dark rafters.. the entire mass of the creature swells, as if inhaling. And suddenly, with a spurt of digestive fluid spattering from the sky, and an echoing crunch, the thug is simply gone.
Meanwhile, on the ground, the other men of the team break in past Varvara as she struggles with a lashing tentacle, her brutal kicks tossing it back. They mob the writhing limbs as they thrust across the ground, and suddenly the scene breaks out into a full on pandemonium--the blue blood of the creature rains from above as bullets begin to find deep purchase in its flesh, and its scream is less of a high shriek and more of a vast, alien bubbling. Tentacles thrash in every direction, throwing whatever isn't bolted down (and a few things that are) in an unfocused frenzy of spasming activity, a maiden in her last throes.
Despite the ongoing chaos, the former Yakuza has never fought harder. When Katsuya rips the fire extinguished from the wall, Krizalid only has occasion to raise a single eyebrow before Katsuya sprays him down, forcing him to shield himself and step back, snarling in anger. It creates the opening Katsuya needs, peppering the executive with multiple vectors in a swarm of strikes meant more to disorient him and control space than anything else. For a few sickening moments, it works--inch by inch, the executive is driven back, as his systems struggle to read the barrage of incoming data, the CO2 in the air swirling with the force of the barrage and obscuring it even from Krizalid's fast eyes. Slowly, his coat proves less proof against the battle's rigors than it had minutes ago. And then, he's anchored down, and then hit square in the face. His form lurches, as if he were the standing dead.
Crack.
At just about the moment another man might consider pressing his advantage while Krizalid is stunned, a single tungsten-wrapped talon darts out of the mists, to seize Katsuya by the face. "Enough."
His limbs almost don't seem to obey basic anatomy, as the executive straightens where he's standing. If his grip is sure enough, he'll simply dangle Katsuya in the air at the end of his claws like some great falcon taking prey. Carrying the Yakuza with him, he'll slowly turn around and slam him bodily into the surfaced concrete behind him, with force enough to assure he stays there just long enough. He wants him to see this. Suddenly, flame begins to eat away at the space around him. It reduces his coat to a husk of cinders, leaving his bronze skin unaffected. The coils at his wrists each individually overload and pop away, as Krizalid, long, lithe and venomously angry, stands overhead. Face trailing blood, his body crackles with erratic energy no longer limited to those coils that once adorned his wrists.
His coat isn't armor.
It's a containment device.
"No more time for games."
His body seeming to twist and shadow with every movement, the NESTS executive launches into a brutal beating of his own, throwing blows straight down into and at Katsuya's body as if he were trying to drill through him to crack the concrete behind him. In the matter of eyeblinks, Krizalid strikes scores of times, each individual blow seeming a long snakelike streak of motion emanating from the creature on the other end. He won't stop until he's absolutely sure that Katsuya is more concerned with survival than he is anything else.
Because Krizalid intends to pin him down by the head underneath his heavy boot. With dire, cold eyes, he'll lean over it, pressing his weight down over his knee.
And then unleash a dark blast from the sole, straight into the former Yakuza's skull.
It would almost be like cold-blooded murder, if such a blast were anywhere close to his full output.
Of course, right now, Krizalid's convinced he doesn't need it.
Katsuya gets one swing off after Krizalid's claws close on his face, but it doesn't come near connecting. After that, he's more concerned with trying to pry himself free. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to serve to do much more than drag the talons in further. And then his body starts dancing like a puppet on a string as Krizalid rains down a flurry of blows on him, with the sound of breaking ribs as accompaniment. The Yakuza coughs up blood as he's slammed into the warehouse floor, and then smashed down again as Krizalid's boot lands on his head. He struggles to rise, and then his vision goes out as energy blast shoots down with enough force to crack the floor beneath his head.
The gangster doesn't seem to be moving after that. Not that he could do much with Krizalid's boot on his head, of course, but he's not even twitching or squirming. But underneath the NESTS man's boots, Katsuya's eyes snap open. If he was a hero, this might be the part where the Power of Justice or possible Friendship gives him the energy to go on. In this case, though, he's just pissed off. One hand snaps out, shoving at Krizalid's ankle, trying to dislodge the foot while getting a grip on him. And then, ignoring the screaming pain throughout his body, Katsuya attempts to rise while bringing Krizalid falling down, snapping out with a foot toward the other man's head as he does so, while retaining the grip on the ankle. Why? Because as Katsuya gets to his feet, the plan is also to be spinning around, sending Krizalid swinging around and then launching him straight into a wall. Assuming this works, it's clearly far from effortless, as evidenced by Katsuya's next steps being to stagger to one side and cough up some blood. Though that will happen either way.
COMBATSYS: Katsuya has reached umpteenth wind!
KRIZALID
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-------------==
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 0/-------/------=|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|-----==
The flailing tentacles, the destructive debris. Varvara cowers for a little while longer even as she is in the highly fortunate position where she is largely grazed by small splinters, pelted by small pieces of ruin where the tentacles smash and scatter parts of the structure. The men whom all rush to the forefront in order to pray with hope beyond hope that the top dollar weapons Duke had exceeded his credit with in order to put down this inexplicable beast.
To someone largely versed with a simple understanding of the extents in which people show discontent for one another, to even fathom that things such as this are something that could even exist... even as the momentum swings back their way, she struggles, fists clenching and loosening, limbs shaking, mouth agape. Her body had hardly sustained real injury beyond those cuts, but the shock to her spirit, her comprehension of the darkest, deepest depths of an underworld she never really truly grasped after all, a world where things like this exist?
"What the hell is this," she chants with slightly varied wording between utterances as she staggers aimlessly, captivated by that large eye. It never crosses her mind to reach out and grab one of the dropped firearms and open fire - she hardly understands how to operate those things, besides, as she is splashed in the blue blood of the awful abomination.
Her arms lash out, almost rapid fire punches, the speed belying the sheer uncertainty among those tentacles that still flail close to reach. They are unfocused - less truly directed aggression, less demonstration of a technique representing her mastery, and more the flailing of a truly scared young woman whom, despite finding some measure of solace in her brutish appearance as a definition of her strength, feels smaller than ever. Every punch into whatever piece of the horrid limbs of the abomination that actually are in her reach is not of someone of resolve.
It is sheer desperation.
COMBATSYS: Bioterror successfully hits AlphaTeam with Primal Fury.
KRIZALID
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-------------==
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 0/-------/------=|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ ||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|---====
Mortal wounds.
The Syndicate's advantage in this war wasn't based around the strength of the individual- though Katsuya showed just how strong those individuals could be- but by the numbers. Where the current gangs that had ruled Southtown had an elite, refined air about them, the combination of Mad Gear and the Syndicate gave a much more ruthless and wild presence. When they throng the abomination, they are individually weak, only grazing the creature. But together?
They may bring this cyborg horror down.
But not without a fight, it seems. The creature was going berserk now, flailing about wildly. The armed melee fighters attempt to flee from the rampage. But as shelves are smashed down into men, and gangsters are torn through using the remains of gangsters unleashed, the vanguard is left disheveled like an overturned toybox. Varvara is briefly alone in the front lines again, a dangerous prospect for any woman. But as she presses on desperately, resolve comes through another means.
"WILLIE P!" Comes the cry.
A bearded man near the back begins to unpack a small box. Two of the AKM gunman scramble to the point, grabbing a clip from the box, and loading it in. Training the gun at the creature, they fire a burst into the creature. Willie P. White Phosphorus. Flame Shot. This was something you used to smoke out an entrenchment. But against a bioweapon? It might be enough to cut it down. But as the hail of fire comes, as Varvara surges desperately? As Krizalid reveals himself to a renewed Katsuya?
A single voice cuts through.
An aged veteran of 30, who had survived through the Syndicate not through bravery, but through wisdom. The last man in, the one with the body armor and the gun, the who hung near the back, hung behind cover, who was far away from the largest of the scattering debris. The one who had the box. The one who loaded his gun with the clip. His voice rises up as it all becomes so clear. The abomination. The man whose coat burned away, whose true colors were revealed. It surges back to him. The Southtown Siege. When they were driven out dishonorably. The combined forces. And this, sneering man. His voice growls, gruffs, with a moment of understanding.
"It's NESTS stuff! Like the war!"
COMBATSYS: Bioterror blocks AlphaTeam's Weakened Molotov Cocktail EX.
KRIZALID
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-------------==
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 0/-------/-----==|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ ||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|---====
COMBATSYS: Varvara successfully hits Bioterror with Weakened Binding Seeds.
KRIZALID
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-------------==
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ ||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|---====
COMBATSYS: Krizalid blocks Katsuya's Zetsuenjo.
KRIZALID
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-----------====
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ ||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|---====
He would be convinced that Katsuya was dead right then and there. His battlesuit certainly seemed convinced that the man's body just took more damage than his defenses could handle--and then enough again to kill a normal man. He would be convinced that Katsuya was dead--or dying. He would be. If he really cared at all in the long run about it.
Straightening, the NESTS executive's still-smouldering form turns away from what's left of Katsuya, moving to step away.
Except he can't. Because the worm is still latched onto his boot.
"If you want to lick my boots, you're too late," the commander growls acidly.
The amount of strength that Katsuya's able to level on him despite the mind-boggling violence he just unloaded on him is.. impressive, to say the least. At least, that's the thought that echoes through the clone's head, even as Katsuya takes him down and whips him pinwheeling towards a wall. The long limbs of the commander go wide as he tumbles end over end as a ragdoll, moments before he slams into the north wall of the warehouse, only remaining conscious by absorbing most of the impact through his legs, his entire body coiling like a spring, crouching on the wall as if it were the floor. "Worthy of even one of our own freakshows," the commander bites off, roughly before throwing himself over onto his boots on the ground. "I think I'm gonna enjoy having you dissected--"
As he does so, he notices the status of the battle raging overhead, his mouth becoming one grim pressed line as trails of glowing white smoke curtain overhead and impact into the beast. Some canisters ignite with the mixed air right there, causing an distended howl to emanate somewhere from inside the bowels of the creature. Others penetrate into its softer flesh, and glow from within, forcing the creature to shriek and writhe in its traces. Krizalid curses to himself, consulting status readouts. The hazard's displacement mass and suspension was growing more unstable by the second. As expected, it was going to die here. Unfortunately, Krizalid expended too much power on the ex-Yakuza. Even his power has limitations, and the gathered resistance would be too much for him at his current output.
But that doesn't mean he can't have a little fun at their expense.
Flames dancing in his claws, Krizalid looks up. The dense white smoke cast off from the WP rounds completely obscured the beast by now. To normal eyes. Krizalid's hard-wired vision can still make out the creature in several spectrums, and his HUD can easily recall a building plan of the warehouse, overlaid onto his current view in translucent green. He looks up briefly--ever so, because he's relatively sure that with the old man chattering in the background, it wouldn't be long before the guns were trained on him.
"Like the war?" Krizalid asks coldly.
"More like the slaughter. Get ready for the second coming!!"
Casting off arcs of flame from his claws into the ceiling, his flames exacerbate the phosphorous clouds. But more appropriately, they're not aimed at the creature above. They're aimed at the rafter substructures tying the creature to the ceiling. His fire is the hottest of all, and even steel doesn't last for more than a few seconds. He doesn't need to be here much longer than those chance swipes, and so he takes the opportunity to escape. Anyone not paying attention might miss him, when he crouches and turns into a living blur. His body accelerates to speeds that the human eye has difficult keeping track of. Don't blink.
An instant later, the rafter substructure gives way, cracking and spilling tons of seared and twitching flesh onto the battlefield.
Several unwary men might be engulfed by the ravenous and psychotic creature right then and there, pinned underneath hundreds of pounds of wet searing-hot flesh. There's really no longer any rhyme or reason to the thing's attacks, a primal thrashing about of a creature in its death throes. Varvara's shell-shocked beating at anything close to her causes burning flesh to crumble against her fist into ash. Shrieking, groaning, and chittering, the laser that previously delineated the creature's field of view sweeps crazily around the battlefield now as it less reaches and more churns after Varvara, the closest thing to it, as it tries to scrape layers of its own membrane tissue and skin organ off on the ground. Dying a horrific death, the thing is now completely on the loose, and it will engulf Varvara in short order, an incomprehensibly fluid mass of scalding and scalded flesh trying to strangle her where she stands with its own traumatically molting skin, sluicing off of its carcass as if it were no longer one contiguous whole, but a wholly disagreeable mass of disjointed parts.
COMBATSYS: Katsuya just-defends Bioterror's Alpha's Rage!
KRIZALID
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-----------====
[ \\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 0/-------/-------|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ ||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|---====
Although he's badly injured, Katsuya is still on his feet, and mostly has his senses about him. So he's able to look up and see the creature and a good chunk of the ceiling coming crashing down toward the warehouse floor. But not everything comes down quite at once. Before the worst of it comes crashing down, Katsuya manages to snag a chunk of falling rafter. He then ducks down, planting it against the floor, and using it to deflect the larger chunks of ceiling as they come down. One lands hard enough to drive the end of the steel length into the floor, but actually turns out to be a bonus, as the dying creature begins writhing wildly, several tentacles smashing into the yakuza's makeshift cover.
Of course, even injured, he's not just going to cower under there. How would that look to the men he's supposed to be commanding. And so, putting the pain aside, Katsuya kicks away the chunk of ceiling material and wrenches the broken length of steel rafter out of the floor. It's pretty heavy, and has a nice jagged end to it... which makes it perfect to serve as a skewer. Lifting it up over his shoulder, Katsuya lunges toward the squid-thing, trying to impale it.
COMBATSYS: Varvara dodges Bioterror's Alpha's Rage.
KRIZALID
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-----------====
[ \\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 0/-------/-------|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ ||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|---====
Her fists are clenched so tightly that any burning sensation against her knuckles hardly registers by feel. There is a certain airiness to what her body is able to register with every blow she lands in her fear-driven barrage, only the vaguest sensation of resistance to her punches that her arms can register, eyes clouded and watery from the dust and ash that tickles her terrified face.
She wasn't around for 'the war.' The world knew all about the invasion of Southtown in 2009, but fewer yet truly knew the depths of what happened like those who were there - those who holed up and watched or those who were foolish enough to stand and try to fight against the combined might of the underworld's movers and shakers. She was just another above-average thug.
Somehow, her instincts manage to signal to her to move. Some stray look to the flames that form above - flashes of orange just out of the corners of where her eyes focus to any sort of definition she can truly focus in the throes of fear - that destroy what restraints keep the creature on up high. With a loud gasp, she takes two steps back that are nowhere near enough as the bulk of the beast starts crashing down.
She staggers down to a crouch as she turns away, one flailing tentacle just barely passing overhead. Only one word translates to action in her mind with any sort of clarity to guide life and limb.
Run.
She runs across the length of the damaged, debris-strewn warehouse with the beast's mass perilously close to her. Her legs rise and fall an alternation, in rapid rhythm as the monster takes its ravenous swipes. One even happens to manage to get in her way, where there is no escape by just running alone.
Palming her hand against the sloughing flesh of the appendage, she throws her legs up and over as though vaulting a barbed wire fence unto itself, blood trickling from three new cuts as she drags it against the barbs upon her successful vault.
Not once does she look back, and yet nor does it appear that she truly has an 'out' in mind among the bangs and flashes of her fellow goons' weapons - she shares none of her concerns nor hopes for them. The only thing that concerns her now is her own survival, where even after seemingly escaping from both being crushed under its mass or its latest attempts to grab and strangle her, there is no relief or calm.
Fight or flight has picked flight.
COMBATSYS: Varvara takes no action.
KRIZALID
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-----------====
[ \\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 0/-------/-------|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ ||||||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|---====
COMBATSYS: Bioterror successfully hits AlphaTeam with Alpha's Rage.
KRIZALID
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-----------====
[ \\\\\\\\ <
Bioterror 0/-------/-------|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ ||||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|-======
The fires were too hot.
As the WP flames begin to magnify, the bearded veteran is already withdrawing and repositioning. It was instinct to him. He could sense the trouble. But not everyone retreats as the flames grow higher from the strange man that was beginning to gain their attention. As Katsuya resurges, as Varvara retreats, the men closest just... stare. There isn't enough time for them to develop those instincts. Several men are engulfed as the abomination surges downward, the rafters collapsing.
But they are not unaware.
Screams erupt from the men briefly, before becoming muffled under the unspeakable flesh. The flailing only adds to the body count, as other begin to join Varvara. It was a route for the fresh blood, a route from the Mad Gear. But the veterans of the Syndicate do not run. They had to make sure Katsuya was getting out of this alive. 9 men dead, out of 20. 5 retreated. But of the remaining, they close in on the monster. And together, they begin to hammer down on the flailing with the few remaining weapons.To suppress it. To silence it.
To execute it, before the warehouse comes down entirely.
COMBATSYS: Bioterror successfully hits itself with Alpha's Rage.
KRIZALID
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-----------====
[ \\\ <
Bioterror 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ |||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|--=====
COMBATSYS: Katsuya successfully hits Bioterror with Large Random Weapon.
KRIZALID
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-----------====
[ <
Bioterror 0/-------/-======|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ |||||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|--=====
COMBATSYS: Bioterror interrupts Weakened Synchronized Beating from AlphaTeam with Strong Throw.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
KRIZALID
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-----------====
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ ||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|=======
COMBATSYS: Bioterror can no longer fight.
KRIZALID
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-----------====
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ ||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|=======
In one fell swoop, most of the support structure of the ceiling falls in like a disturbed house of cards, leaving the vast, dark expanse of sky to the open air. Inside, tons of cold twitching flesh pile and pour, limb upon drippling limb, onto the ground in a massive and asymmetric rolling mass of molting muscle as the biohazard rolls after anything moving. Varvara flees, and the creature simply surges after her. There is an ineffable anger about the thing, as vast, alien and incomprehensible as the blackness of the deep. As the morbid thing squirms after the escaping offense, many others are simply rolled over, claws and sucking cups eclipsing the mass of bodies both dead and soon-to-be. Gel churns and turns to froth in its wake as it does do, leaving a sloppy pool of blood and biosuspension wherever it goes as it worms towards the exit.
In many ways, it also seems to be of the mind to escape, just the same as everyone else here, save one.
There is a certain unbridled heroism in the man that leaps on top of a rabid squid the size of a building and impales it on a girder. A high keening sound breaks the air, from some resonant chamber deep in the creature that long forgot the taste of air. Navy blue blood erupts from the injury, and the thing churns, loud and low, as it moves, and temporarily, the horrific mass simply.. continues onward, as if the future refused to change.
It continues onward through everything, the beating of the myriad thugs, and the impalement, the burn of its master, and its own skin being torn off on exposed studs. The wall of flesh still advances, and everything in its way just gets rolled over and smothered underneath its incomprehensible mass. ONe thug or another might be a little slow, a little too brave. This one is different. The creature will pull him from its mass as if pulling a splinter from a wound, and simply throw him bodily towards the far wall of the warehouse with murderous speed. It throws him hard enough to not just but him through the wall, but knock the entire wall down as its flesh collides against it like a massive battering ram.
From outside, you might see a body come flying through a huge section of the warehouse wall, shortly followed by the entire wall itself folding like paper as the massive oceanborne beast smashes through it, scattering wooden spars and girders like strings of toothpicks, Tentacles latch onto the edges of the incursion, and the entire, aching mass thrusts itself through into the open air, one red laser-eye churning....
... Before the beast finally collapses, trucklike and field-long tentacles falling flat over vans and cars alike in the lot, slowly rolling to a stop with the former Yakuza likely on the very top of the creature's head.
It is still.
Despite the writhing of the monster, Katsuya manages to hang onto his makeshift spear, driving it in deeply and leaning on it to aggravate the wound. Blue blood splashes over him, though at this point his clothes were already quite ruined anyway. Finally the thrashing of the thing beneath him slows, and it slumps underneath him before finally going still. Painfully trying to catch his breath, Katsuya gives the girder one more twist and pull, resulting in an unpleasant squelching noise, but no apparent signs of motion from the creature.
Sliding down from the thing's bulk, Katsuya stumbles as he hits the ground, clutching his left arm across his chest. He looks to the remaining fighters that are on their feet, and gestures with his right hand. "Gather up the wounded... and let's get out of here before anybody else shows up. Let Heinlein deal with explaining all of this." He manages to keep from flinching while talking, but even that is sending spikes of pain through his torso as the adrenaline starts to wind down.
COMBATSYS: Katsuya takes no action.
KRIZALID
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-----------====
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ ||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|=======
The sounds of destruction and desperation ring increasingly hollow to Varvara's ears. The entirety of her body goes ever number to her own comprehension. Get me out of here, is all that runs through her mind. All but a mere glimpse of her true place in the deepest, darkest underworld's food chain, she runs with a full awareness that she is mere prey to horrors such as this. A food chain she thought started and ended merely with the strongest, the most successful fighters.
The chaotic cacophony of collapse as one wall crashes down from one smaller body followed by a far bigger one - /that/ one - is almost all but missed as little more than some indeterminate noise as she is sprayed with dust and debris. A brick strikes the back of her right shoulder, hurling her to her hands in a brief, panicked crawl before taking off. The air of the outdoors offers no sense of respite or real escape. Flashes of colors around the parking lot are a blur to her eyes, shards of glass spraying everywhere under crushed vehicles of the beast's final fall.
She never looks back, never to appreciate how narrow her own escape was from certain death at the cost of some good men, let alone the sheer, untarnished grit of the likes of Katsuya Ishikawa. Where he still has it in him after such an encounter to command, she barely clings to anything resembling reason.
Her adrenaline soon fails to outstrip the fatigue of taxed muscles just some ways out of the lot, finding negligible cover behind large pallets of soon-to-be confiscated cargo. Her breathing heavy with fright and panic, she sits. It cannot be considered resting - there is hardly any sort of winding down to her mentally. For a creature that is now dead, this may well be more submission to a threat that no longer exists, cradling herself as though she felt cold - or freezing - arms and hands a bit more bloodied in resting upon where she's been cut by those creature's barbs. Twitching. Every sound, every footstep would be met with a gasp or some equivalent thereof, mumbling something utterly incomprehensible in her native tongue to the very night itself.
COMBATSYS: Varvara takes no action.
KRIZALID
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-----------====
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Varvara 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Katsuya
[ ||||||||||||| ]
AlphaTeam 0|-------|=======
When the fallout comes, it is a miracle that there are survivors.
The building was already collapsing. The monster, that abomination that nobody was expecting, was being brought down. But at what cost? If this was to assassinate a crime boss of the harbor, this was an acceptable loss of life. But for killing genetically soupy seafood? This was meaningless. A loss of life, a loss of resources. The creature's death throu consumes four more of the vanguard, the men taken in by the flailing creature panicking, lashing back as they try to subdue it. There are screams. Inhuman screams. Desperate screams as the remaining take cover behind and under whatever they can muster for cover. With this entire mission, there was death, too much death.
And terror.
As Katsuya emerges from the wreckage of the... thing, there is the face of fear on every surviving men. Absolute terror in all of them. Varvara was only the most outgoing about it. For the remaining men, there is that same terror in each of their eyes. They obey out of reaction, not out of loyalty. It could have been Katsuya calling the order, or even Krizalid himself. They gather the wounded because they are told to. There is no worse hangover than fear, and every man there was experiencing it.
Except, of course, the veteran.
The older, grizzled criminal that was near the back, that kept his distance, that armed himself with the willie p, was not afraid. He was tired. Just tired. If he had the ambition to match his wisdom and competence, he might be in Katsuya's position. But wisdom told him what leadership led to, and the price of it. But as he rises from a makeshift fortification of boxes, near a collapsed wall, he just sighs. "It's happening again." The veteran states flatly, looking upon the ruins. "Fuck Kain, and fuck Grant. This is going to be worse. No, this is worse. It has already begun."
"Hell has already begun."
*****************
Under the Il Paradiso Opera House, within the plush interior of the inner sanctum, sits a dark figure before a mahogony desk. Normally a grim-faced man, glaring with yellow eyes. But behind those yellow eyes was not malice, but quiet joy. Upon his desk was a plate of raw steaks; underneath and around that same desk, was a dozen St. Benards. Panting heavily and slobbering, the dark-skinned boss, in the privacy of his office, feeds each of the beasts the steaks. The animals would occasionally fight amongst themselves for the choice cut; but it was not out of cruelity. These were not attack dogs. These were companions.
And for the Duke, companions of absolutely loyalty.
The phone open the desk rings. As it chimes, the crime boss narrows his eyes. There were two reasons to call the Duke at this hour. The first was important people. And heaven help Duke if he had to deal with Geese or Billy at this time. The second was important business. Duke lets it ring a third time, before lifting up the phone. "You know who this is. This better be important." Tossing a wet steak to the nearest dog, he suddenly slams a fist upon the desk, listening to the voice on the other end.
"-What?-"
The scowl comes. The dogs suddenly flinch, looking as if they did something wrong. Duke's expression softens, if only for the benefit of his pets. Leaning back in his chair, he places two fingertips on the heap of steaks on the silver platter. He focuses, listening carefully to the voice on the phone. "And you are certain? No, this is not unexpected. We are continuing part B of the plan. Just tell the officers to expect them. Find veterans experienced with dealing with them if you have to. We are NOT going to back down. You understand me? This is NOT going to slow down our plans!" And angrily, Duke slams down the phone. The dogs flinch again. Duke's yellow eyes cast down at his pets. And he smiles. Not a cruel smile. Not a kind smile. But a comforting smile.
And responding back, the dogs relax.
One of them edges up on the crime lord, nuzzling his large wet nose on the boss's arm. Calmly, Duke begins to scratch his head. His body was calm. But his mind was storming, his expression intense. "Fine then." He states, speaking with his pets who only dimly understand. If NESTS think I'll roll over like Geese, they are mistaken." One of the dogs ears perk up, and promptly, she lays down, rolling over. Duke leans back his chair, oblivious to the trick. Fingers steepled, he stares off into space, challenging nothingness to knock that cosmic chip off his own shoulder.
"They are -all- mistaken if anybody thinks they can walk over me."
Log created on 21:33:20 08/03/2013 by Duke, and last modified on 18:29:57 09/22/2013.