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Post by Cyrille Lécuyer on Sept 10, 2014 12:44:26 GMT -5
Gah. That thing sure was intimidating. The way it slowly moved. Animal like, so of course it showed no emotion. At least it wasn’t screeching, or something. Annoyingly enough, the creature had retreated behind some trees, not fully but enough to make it much harder to shoot at. So very annoying. That movement also meant it had probably heard or seen him approach. Fun.
Well, Cyrille didn’t have much to lose anyway. However, failure did put his partner directly in harm’s way. Hm. He’d probably try to just get as clear of a shot as possible, cripple it, then finish it. Easy enough. Cyrille was probably just overthinking it. No worries.
Then his partner begun to talk. Cyrille grit his teeth in frustration at how loud Spike was being, but didn’t say a word. Spike’s idea was basically what Cyrille had already decided on doing. Good to know they were on the same page. But, cutting through the trees? Oh no no no. The thing had already seen them. That’d cause noise. It had probably heard the talking anyway. He’d just charge, say something cool... It’d be fine.
”Right.” Cyrille responded simply, without actually talking. Cyrille didn’t bother reprimanding him for not communicating via their wavelengths either. In all fairness, Cyrille was much more used to wielding a demon weapon than Spike was to actually being wielded. Not too big of a deal anyway. ”I’ll just charge it. We don’t need to get too much closer.”
Without waiting for Spike to give his approval, Cyrille stepped out from the hiding place and walked towards the kishin. Yes, walked. No sense wasting energy now. Plus, if Cyrille got the kishin to charge at him it’d be the one wasting energy. Unless kishins didn’t use energy like humans did. Ah well, still seemed like a good plan. Cyrille was sure the kishin wouldn’t retreat into the depth of the loch either. Kishins fed on souls. The soul of one kid wouldn’t last it for very long.
Once Cyrille was in an adequate range, he pulled the trigger. Whether or not the kishin decided to charge didn’t matter. A barrage of bullets at it’s legs would be impossible to completely dodge. Worst case scenario he’d aim it at the thing’s hooves to mess up the thing’s footing.
The whirring produced by the spinning of the barrels wasn’t quite loud enough to drown out Cyrille’s voice. He spoke. ”Bon matin.” A soothing voice. “Good morning”. Perhaps an odd choice for the badass one liner Spike had suggested before. Ah well. Cyrille’s voice would be much less easier heard now that bullets were flying.
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Post by The Sidhe on Sept 16, 2014 14:13:36 GMT -5
More sound. The white horse remained still, once again relying on swiveling ears to pick up speech it no longer understood. It was near, but still too far for it to risk further movement. Its position was obscured even if it failed to be out of sight, but that was purposeful. It wanted them to draw closer of their own accord if at all possible, keep its usual aim to lure rather than pursue. Of course it knew that this may not be a viable option, but for now it would wait. There was no point in wasting energy if it weren’t absolutely necessary, and the water was never far should they prove to be more than it anticipated.
Movement. Milky eyes barely caught it, but when it recognized the consistency it broke pattern. There was too much boldness for it to be simple caution or curiosity. In one swift turn, the white horse shifted to the side, head snapping towards the team. It drew slow breaths that formed thin vapor through the soft rain. The footsteps were steady, unhurried. By comparison, maybe it should hurry instead. They were too far to properly make out but they were close enough to pick up the scent of damp cloth, cold skin.
Metal.
It was moving all at once, reeling off to the side and rearing back, though it made no sound. When its hooves slammed back down into the quickly dampening earth, layers of skin sloughed off and fell heavily with sudden rot to the ground. Gangrenous muscle and tendon were mixed with silt filling the empty spaces in between. The left side of its face slid off and fell to the ground, sharp teeth being revealed attached to a skull coated in streaking grey grime. Hair fell from its mane, rendering it stringy. Portions of its ribcage became visible, skin continuing to peel right off. Tattered ears swung back and it located the team as best it could with clouded eyes. It appeared exactly as Blair had depicted it. The baying sound it made was grating like grinding metal, broken and shrill and echoing through the woods and over the dark waters of the Loch.
The barrage of bullets came. The rotted horse was incredibly fast for existing in such a degree of decay. But it did not escape the line of fire unscathed. The line of fire was only predictable through the sound of a trigger and the following rain of bullets. A hit to the right hoof, a hole shot through either shin, too near to the left ankle. It still kept moving. It cantered swiftly out of the way, slowed only slightly and making no sign that it even cared for the injuries it had sustained.
It was as if the creature didn’t even feel them.
With space beyond the bullets aimed at its legs, it attempted to take advantage of the brief accomplishment of ducking out of the way. It slid on its hind legs and charged at the team, making no other sounds aside from ragged and scraping breaths to accompany its attempt to snap at the Meister once it grew close enough to see him more properly.
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Post by Spike Gatling on Feb 26, 2015 2:16:40 GMT -5
“I hoped you’d choose that one.” Spike said smirking inwardly. He felt his partner stepping out into the clearing and his trigger being pulled. His barrels started spinning sending the rain that had accumulated on them flying. The weapon could feel inner mechanisms all kicking on together and going into motion in a way that felt as natural as breathing. This is what it felt like to be wielded by a meister.
In response to Cyrille’s one liner, Spike critiqued “That was pretty good. Gave me chills.” Cy’s choice of one liner wasn’t what Spike expected at all but he felt like it fit his partner rather well.
Spike could feel his barrels warming up as hot lead erupted from them. A shower of spent shell casings was being left behind and clinking off the rocks as Cyrille steadily walked forward. A green puff of rotten flesh signaled to Spike that the assault had made contact. And the beast quickly got out of the path of the stream of bullets which was to be expected. But the kishin egg’s behavior was concerning Spike. It seemed to be ignoring the injuries to its legs much too easily. He feared that he made a dangerous miscalculation.
“This isn’t working. It’s not responding very much at all.” As the grotesque monster bolted forward kicking up clods of dirt and rocks behind it, the distance between it and them was closing much too quickly for Spike’s liking. The sound of its footfalls were getting louder and louder above the sound of the rain falling. The thumps resonated in Spike’s quickening heart as a pang of fear hit the weapon. “Crippling it won’t work. Just aim for its head, Cy!” He yelled hoping it wasn’t too late for his error in judgment to cost them their lives.
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Post by Cyrille Lécuyer on May 9, 2015 19:19:04 GMT -5
Cyrille would have really really preferred if the kishin he had gotten on his first mission was less animalistic and much more human. However, he had figured either way he’d be mostly fine. The only reason he cared was because it was easier to predict how a human would react to any given attack. A horse? Yea, he didn’t even know the difference between a trot and a gallop.
Really though, that shouldn’t matter. He assumed all kishins, being insane, wouldn’t be very predictable anyway. He shouldn’t rely on such a thing in battle. Especially when his life was on the line. All he could really do was make sure he wasn’t stressed or scared or anything.
Maybe that would be a bit difficult though. This thing was positively grotesque. Cyrille would ignore that, of course. Or at least try to. He focused on how fast the thing was. Too fast. He wasn’t expecting that given that it had mostly stood around up til now. Perhaps it was saving energy. Or perhaps it was deceiving them. Didn’t matter.
Cyrille hit it. He knew that much. He could tell. But... it seemed unfazed. Lovely, bullets didn’t do shit. What the hell was he supposed to do then?! Well, it had probably done damage. Perhaps the thing just had no pain receptors and he needed to hit it somewhere critical. Chest or head would be easiest.
The charge, thankfully, did not surprise Cyrille. He was just about ready for the horse to pull something like that as soon as he noted the speed it had. He doubted it was going to shoot lasers or something. So he got ready to move to the side to dodge. There was a short window to do so. Too early and it would be able to tell what he was doing and adjust its path accordingly. Too late, and... well that was obvious. Cyrille should pay attention to what his partner was saying. Up til now he had been somewhat entranced by the kishin. He really wasn’t very good at focusing on more than one thing at a time.
That turned out to be a bad idea.
Not only had his weapon decided to only state the obvious, but it managed to make him tense up significantly with one single word. After a tiny little pause, Cyrille managed to speak. ”I told you not to call me that.” His voice sounded like a growl. He had trouble raising it to a yell for whatever reason, though mentally he more or less screamed those words. That simple little nickname had made him panic. Just lovely.
And with that, the little dodging window was gone.
Not that he really felt it in him to move now anyway. Why was he so panicked now? Gah. Cyrille decided it best to simply try to do as his partner had said and shoot at the kishin’s head. Specifically, it’s mouth. He raised the gun so it would be at the horse’s head level, provided it didn’t move it drastically seeing that he was doing this, and try to fire at it’s mouth. Give it some nice metal to chew on.
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