Eternal Rains (IC) [M] - Closed

[Snuggles]

Anton continued to float in the air. He really didn't like what was happening but he new why it was happening. They were in a horrible place filled with horrible things and when beings and creatures are faced with that their morals go away and no good can come of it. Anton hovered in the air still pondering how to get them out of the junkyard. He got an idea and move further up into the air and started to map through the junk in his head to get a way out of the junkyard.

[Paladin Sheppard]

Watching Witt's short flight and landing into a bunch Paige grinned, two could play at that game, though she planed to do it with finesse and with her own style.

The female wolf began muttering words of power, directing her will and strength into Winter's Bite. Suddenly she stopped, and threw the now glowing sword into a tightly packed group of the Mer. It speared into the ground with a thud, quivering for a second before it released its energies.

A sphere appeared where the sword had landed a full fifteen meters in diameter, its appearance was that of a snow globe...but with a full fledged blizzard inside instead of a few flakes. Of the Mer inside no one could see.

With a shout of glee Paige, with her fighting claws in her hands sprinted inside.

[SpottedKitty]

It took a lot to actually shock Fal'taq. He'd been faced with a number of unpleasant surprises over the last hour or two, but none of them had made him jump almost out of his fur until someone — he couldn't see who — unexpectedly shot the Mer leader and blew her brains out. He was more than a little incredulous that the woman hadn't been using a shield spell, but he wasn't about to turn up his muzzle at such a generous gift.

Not about to make the same mistake himself, Fal'taq promptly raised his own shield, making sure it was properly set and anchored this time. By the time he was ready, Keaton had recovered from her own surprise at the sudden turnaround and ordered an attack on the rest of the Mer. Fal'taq grinned viciously at the jackal as she charged, swinging her enormous mace with an ease that spoke of considerable magical enhancement. It had been quite some time since he'd... indulged himself, hadn't it? A thrown trident bounced off his shield, but he ignored it.

Still grinning, the mole looked back at his new playthings and raised his arms towards them. From one outstretched hand a bolt of raw power roared out towards a wide-eyed Mer. He clenched his other hand into a fist, and from it came a glowing lash, looping around his head as he gently waved his arm. A quick flick, and the lash curled, almost lazily to begin with, then it snapped forward, heading straight towards another Mer.

[Sunblink]

...Axiyne:

As far as Arcwelder could tell once he entered the hangar, there was no one there. The atmosphere was surprisingly tranquil despite the mostly rustic appearance - as he proceeded deeper within Pandora's workshop, it became increasingly apparent. Various instruments used for repairing and building lay strewn across worktables or hung up in their display cases; cogs, gears, and the other innards of machines were piled in disarray or mounted on the walls as well; and outlandishly crafted inventions of unknown origin or function were resting in their respective spots, safely out of harm's way. For reasons Arcwelder couldn't immediately conceive, a few outdated creations were sitting rather reverently among those inventions - they were partially recognizable as modified and advanced versions of antiquated machines long abandoned in favor of more useful models in public use. A sophisticated system of ubiquitously turning gears ticked consistently into motion along the wall, churning out a monotonous cacophony of clicks and ticks. Sitting on the far wall was a portrait of an elderly-looking avian, innocuous in appearance, but rather conspicuous among the steampunk ambiance of the workshop, if only because it was the most expensive object in the place.

The hangar, however, was much more sanitary and less cluttered than the adjacent chamber. Or at least with the finances its caretaker could afford - or what was discernible amidst the shadows obscuring Arcwelder's sight. From where Arcwelder stood, he could make out an immense silhouette, draped in darkness. Nothing else was readily visible. Once he uncovered the light switch, however, and activated it, its identity was quickly known. Up above, one by one, the lights stationed throughout the ceiling flared into activity, bathing the room in an acrid glow.

And illuminating the figure resting in the heart of the sanctum.

It was immense; a mechanical monster of a masterpiece. From where Arcwelder stood it easily towered over him - actually, it could rival  a particularly large Dragon in size at its estimated length of at least three hundred feet, from aft to stern. Diameter-wise, it was equally gigantic, but somewhat stouter. Oddly-shaped, it seemed to be comprised of a number of metallic chambers linked to one another, ending, at the front, with a great tapered nose. Strange platforms - wings of sort - flanked the sides of that aforementioned nose, even rising vertically from the two tails on the opposite end of the machine. Nestled atop the nose and further back was a cabin. There were numerous, enormous propellers built into the machine's body, the most prominent pair angled at the ceiling from above two vertically-positioned shafts. Judging by looks alone, this machine - this metallic marvel of Furrae technology - possibly demanded countless hours, days, maybe even years, for it to be finished. During its gradual construction, it was apparently only accessible through the networks of platforms around the vessel's bulk as it escalated in height.

From a true appreciator of the art of invention, it was magnificent. By no means similar to the ramshackle and misshapen concoctions Arcwelder had bypassed in Pandora's workshop.

Before Arcwelder could further marvel the vessel in its near-perfection, his reverie was interrupted by a startled voice calling to him from the entrance of the hangar. "HEY! Who - who's there?"

Standing there on all fours was a diminutive Gryphon, unusually unremarkable in size, even in comparison to his smaller brethren of Gryphon "B," as was classified. The Gryphon's chocolate-brown plumage was very bedraggled although he seemed to be in good health, with wide and bright eyes staring owlishly at Arcwelder. His right eye was outlined in a pattern of burgundy rings, beginning with a thick circle tracing his eyelid, then progressing through three others, all which grew progressively thinner. By itself it would have been an interesting marking, but it was abruptly disrupted by a thin scar trisecting the fur and feathers there, tarnishing the ruby-red of his right-eye gaze. Other scars scathed his form, apparently the product of claw marks, determined from the shape. Rather unusually, he was wearing a set of heavy and highly complicated goggles on his forehead.

"Who - " the Gryphon padded forward. Even with his depth perception ruined he still had excellent eyesight in his undamaged eye, which was a ocher-brown slightly brighter than his primary fur color.

One look at Arcwelder and his abominable posse and he squeaked, his curiosity vanishing in favor of abject shock. The Gryphon's talons moved rapidly as they worked to propel him backwards, up until they grated against the floor and resulted in him tripping and landing unceremoniously on the floor with a squawk. On the ground, he moaned slightly, clutching his head and attempting to straighten his now-crooked goggles. His disorientation didn't last for long, however, as he was reminded of his predicament by another glance at Arcwelder and leaped back to his feet.

"Ah... ah..." the Gryphon glanced, horrified, between Arcwelder and the individual zombie-bots. "Who are... you?"

---

...Keaton:

Not long after Keaton had ordered for their elimination, the Mer, from the combined efforts of the party, were easily overwhelmed in their leaderless state. It didn't take long for their numbers to dwindle down from the thirty individuals which once composed the crowd. Shortly after Keaton disposed of the first victim, the Mer lurched into action, hefting their weapons and directing their attentions to the impending threat. Keaton surmised that they did not possess the weather-manipulating powers of their dearly departed leader, though she reminded herself that it was probably quite rare for Mer to possess magic to Jazamin's magnitude. These stragglers, however, were like sheep, utterly brainless and desperate for a shepherd's guidance.

Cross's bullet met its mark, the projectile piercing right through the Mer's head and evacuating cleanly through the other end of his skull. Unlike Jazamin, however, he did not linger - he dropped dead, not suspended by the exaggerated animation of the Furrae mind's shock. Following this death, Witt was sent sailing by Tyrannus toward the nearest gathering of Mer - the more perceptive of the group dispersed to avoid the impending death-curled-in-a-ball, but the majority of that assembly were affected by the brunt of the blow, especially when Witt unfurled and started violently assaulting them like a whirling dervish of destruction. The dead Mer Witt used as a blunt object was surprisingly effective - both on a physical and psychological level. Many Mer were pulverized or bludgeoned to death or incapacitation, the latter quickly transforming into the former once each fallen water-creature endured enough blunt trauma. Some attempted to jab at Witt with their tridents, but he or she was disarmed or knocked away once Witt swung. One unfortunate Mer which managed to dodge the chaos was quickly reduced to blood and brain matter by Keaton. Determined from the overjoyed, manic smile on her muzzle, she was more than content to murder the survivors of Witt's assault, who she dispatched by quickly smashing their heads. A little boring in comparison to running around and actively pursuing, but it brought the bloodshed.

It wasn't completely audible over the screaming, but one could almost hear Keaton singing.

Aisha's fire-licked chain easily ensnared victim after victim, leaving them to scream and smolder as they disintegrated into ashes or charred, mangled corpses. Penny's bolts lanced through the air and met their marks, although quite a few managed to escape off to the sides with their lives. Even those individuals didn't get off lucky, as the resulting shrapnel ejected by the explosions slashed and swiped at their bodies, sometimes embedding in their limbs or flesh. Those survivors were shortly engulfed by the icy dome conjured by Paige, however, so they didn't have the opportunity to savor their lives. The Mer sealed inside the bloating, impenetrable sphere - well, no one could tell, yet, but they were likely flayed to shreds by their antagonist's blade. Fal'taq's whip efficiently eviscerated, dismembered, and decapitated.

By the end of the confrontation, only one Mer remained. One very fortunate, very horrified Mer, stripped of his weapon and peppered with the blood of his comrades. Keaton spotted him out of the corner of her eye, but he was already scaling, with great effort, up the nearest junk pile. Pieces of detritus and garbage were thrown and tossed by his rapidly flailing feet. Growling, Keaton was about to pursue, when -

Another gunshot was fired.

The escaping Mer let out a hideous, penultimate shriek of horror as he glanced in the direction of where the gunshot originated, the sound petering out just as the bullet fired tore through his neck. The Mer pivoted on the junk pile, his webbed hands petrifying around the failing chunks of garbage he was clutching and his body falling limp. The junk gave way, and he fell forward, slumping. His body, no longer supported by the quickly-diminishing junk pile, rolled lifelessly down the meshed mass of garbage until he came to a halt before Keaton's feet.

Keaton stared down at the corpse regurgitating blood on her combat boots.

Again, the silence was shattered, this time by a triumphant cry exclaimed in a husky voice, cried from where the Mer had glanced before his untimely death. To be precise, behind the nearby mountain of garbage the group had once been cornered against.

"HA! YES!"

Shock shot up through Keaton's body as she glanced from the Mer's body to that other junk pile. Her hands clenched around Catastrophe's pommel again for preparation. Shit, more trouble? Concentrating a little, Keaton focused on Catastrophe's bloodstained head and body, manipulating the surface to ripple and swallow up the blood offending its surface until it was completely spotless. She didn't clean herself of blood yet. Too much immediate effort.

There was a subtle shifting among the trash in the nearby garbage-mountain, then the subaudible sound of footsteps. "Bloody 'ell though, did yeh folks do those bastards up."

Another rustling sound, a silhouette lurching into life at the foot of the garbage. It wasn't immediately distinguishable in gender, nor was it in voice, as its speech was greatly burdened with an overdone Liverpudlian accent. One more step forwards, and Keaton braced herself.

Approaching them, holding an elongated sniper rifle smoking at the barrel, was a human woman.

The presence of a human was a bizarre event by itself, but when observed from a neutral perspective, on her own, the human was most unusual. She was abnormally tall, almost seven feet, although the awkward length of her ludicrously long legs attributed greatly to the majority of her stature. Her arms were equally as peculiar in length, making her appear very disproportioned and ungraceful, almost a comical caricature of humanoid anatomy. Her skin was an olive tone and her hair, which was extremely disheveled and mostly flattened by the leather pilot's cap crowning her head, was an obnoxiously bright bubble-gum pink. Probably the result of a hideous dye-job performed on her own. The human was wearing nothing a pair of specially-tailored overalls which managed to preserve what little modesty she had, which were stitched and decorated with abstract, fluorescent flowers and splattered with tie-dye, all in shades of pink. Other than that, completely covering her arms were a set of armwarmers, bedecked in white and pink stripes.

Perfectly unperturbed by everyone's likely-aghast stares, most especially that of Keaton's, the human set her oversized, glove-clad hand on her hip and lowered her sniper rifle so to remove the pretense of being a threat. She probably didn't stop to consider that the fact she was ostensibly a human provoked such a response in the first place. "A' ease, good people," she said amiably. "I come in peace. I'd love t'chat an' all, but lemme jus' get the shit outta th' way. You all" - she gestured for the group to follow her as she carelessly turned around - "follow me. We gotta get goin'."

"WAIT." It was at that moment that Keaton seemed to have her speech momentarily restored. The human glanced in Keaton's direction, looking quite awestruck. Seething a little, Keaton barked, "And why should we trust you? And most of all, who the hell are you?"

The human seemed to pout thoughtfully for a moment. She sighed, and something in her bruise-colored eyes flashed unnaturally. Her olive-tanned skin started to melt and swirl like oil pastels along her body until it gradually vanished, smeared out of sight. In its place, feathers and fur began to sprout, colored a vibrant shade of pink which simply couldn't have been natural, painted with tattooed splotches and patterns in different shades of pink. The human's face distended grotesquely from the nose and mouth, straightening into a bizarrely sharp shape and hardening into a blackened material, until it was distinguishable as a beak around the time the colored feathers started sprouting around her face, forming more abstract, painted patterns. At the end of that fluid transition, the human woman was gone, and in her place was some form of avian - a woodpecker. Looking somewhat pleased, she reached up and ruffled the long crest of feathers which sloped out from behind her hat.

"Name's Pandora Rosendahl," the woodpecker introduced herself, "Yer bosom buddy Navarro said y'guys were in a bit o' a tiff with' my junk dealer. 'e sent me. Now come on." Pandora gestured for the group to follow her, striding forward. "I'll lead ye all t' my shop. It's safe."

Keaton stood there for a moment, absorbing Pandora's newest transformation, and the revealing of her identity. Despite her argumentative nature, she wasn't going to dispute her command. If this was really Pandora, then something, for once, had gone right in this godforsaken day. Somehow, that woodpecker-Were was going to get them off the island. Sighing in resignation, Keaton craned her head around to face the others, and said, "Come on, guys. We're getting out of here. Follow."

And with that, Keaton started to walk forward. Suddenly, Pandora froze in her tracks, leaving Keaton to bump awkwardly into her rear, having not anticipated that sudden pause. Gesturing for everyone to stay where they were, Pandora happily waltzed over to the nearest Mer corpse - the body of Jazamin Flowright. She leaned down, thrusting her legs out in a way which would accommodate her lanky and oddly-proportioned body, and started rummaging through Jazamin's belongings. One by one, the articles of jewelry which once festooned Jazamin's form disappeared into the woodpecker's pockets, with the exemption of her most extravagant necklace, which was proudly draped around the woodpecker's neck. Cheerfully eyeing a ring pinched between her bony fingers, the woodpecker chuckled and pocketed the accessory before climbing back to her feet.

"Okay," she said, resting the muzzle of her rifle against her shoulder. "Now we're haulin' arse."

And so, she kept walking.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[techmaster-glitch]

   The giant machine impressed Arcwelder. Never before had he imagined anything of this scale. But Arcwelder was almost as surprised to find an odd creature he'd never seen before in the hangar, a strange four-legged winged thing. It then asked Arcwelder a question.
   "Me? I am a friend of Pandora. I give her parts which she could not find anywhere else. Speaking of which, where is she? I need her help. And while we're at it, who the hell are you? I've never seen you around here."

[Sunblink]

...Axiyne:

The Gryphon seemed visibly intimidated by Arcwelder's countenance, but managed to respond easily enough, although his voice was slightly enunciated with stuttering. He fidgeted in place for a moment. The likelihood of Arcwelder actually being one of Pandora's companions seemed slim to him, but he didn't question the other, even if his identity remained ambiguous. Pandora might have mentioned getting parts from him before... yes, he remembered now.

"I-I'm Axiyne," the Gryphon explained, "I'm Pandora's assistant. I live here. As for Pandora, she'll probably be back soon..." His ears twitched inquisitively. "A dog named... C.C., I think... came in earlier and told her there was something going on in the junkyard. She went to take care of it."

---

...Keaton:

In the midst of a step, Keaton realized from the extremely cold temperatures sustained nearby that Paige was still encapsulated in her ice-encrusted environment. Considering her usefulness in battle, Keaton didn't think it would be a very intelligent move, to leave her behind. Signaling to Pandora to wait for a moment, she jogged over to the giant sphere. From what she could tell, it seemed impenetrable, but she hoped some sort of sound or external provocation would transfer to its inhabitants...

(Like a pretty snowglobe?)

Stop it.

"Paige?" Keaton tested this theory. She didn't dare touch the surface of the globe, though, at risk of triggering some sort of reaction, or somehow becoming absorbed within the cage. "Are you in there?"

Paige didn't answer, but something else did. An enormous ripple passed over the sphere, and the mangled body of a Mer staggered out with what seemed to be a tremendous effort. Most of his body was maimed and partially-frozen, rendering his right arm a useless mass of mutilated ice and encrusting the frills and fins of his form. He let out an inhuman croak at the rather disgusted Keaton, a wordless plea for help.

An alabaster tentacle whipped out from the globe and snaked around the Mer's waist. The Mer shrieked again - the sound was quickly swallowed up, along with the rest of him, as he was dragged back into his frozen prison and into the hands of his tormentor. Keaton twitched distastefully. Just moments after this happened, another tentacle extended, this time sporting a hand-like appendage, and seized Keaton's nose with two of its digits, tweaking it. Keaton, taken by a thunderstruck shock, could only stare as this occurred, and as the same tentacle gestured in a manner she assumed meant "one moment, please."

She blinked, rubbing her nose.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Witt looked around for more Mer to introduce to the remains of his flail, and seemed somewhat disappointed in how rapidly they'd all been dissuaded. He shrugged, and looked at the detached leg in his hand with a slightly surprised - and somewhat amused - look on his face, before tossing it onto the pile of bodies around him.

After that, he quickly rifled through a few of the corpses, looking for those handy little items that might be of use later, transferring them rapidly to his many pockets, before ripping the robe from one of the corpses and walked off after Pandora, whistling cheerfully and wiping blood, off his face and hands, on the robe. He paused mid-step, and his gaze sharpened at one of the piles of junk. "Now, that looks fucking useful, there." he muttered, and wandered over to pick up a helmet from the pile. He slung the rag over one shoulder for a moment, and turned the helmet over in his hands, reading the banner across the front. "Hmm. Mit Gott F Fuerst U Vaterland. Well, that's made it fucking worth coming the hell in here, all right." He seated the spiked helm on his head, and grinned from ear to ear.

Glancing around, he noticed that Keaton had stopped, and sauntered jauntily back to where she was waiting for the snowglobe. As he reached Keaton, he proffered the robe to her. "Here. You've got a bloody bit on your face. So to speak."

He then looked over at the globe, and spat experimentally into it, watching the globule freeze as it crossed the interface. "Cute. One hell of a cold shoulder, but cute. Shall we, as your new friend puts it, 'haul arse'? Or are we gonna wait for Shake-n-Freeze there to settle?"

[Paladin Sheppard]

Keaton and Witt had only a little while to wait before the sphere suddenly dissipated and a flurry of snow flew around before settling, revealing a macabre set of ice sculptures. Mer frozen in place, some with deep gashes and glistening blood trails frozen in mid-air, others without a scratch but turned to ice all the same. 

In the middle stood Paige, arms wrapped around the last mer in a lovers embrace, her lips locked against theirs, white wings (both sets) at full extent.

Slowly Paige released the mer and stepped back, a sultry look on her face. Without warning the mer fell over, shattering as it hit the ground.

"Oopsie." Paige said grinning with a hit of fang. She was almost glowing...As if the last poor mer had just had it soul sucked out...

[Stygian]

At first, the figure had been almost leaping about and frantic with her attempts to convey the message that they needed to move on. When that failed, she had turned, and almost left, preparing to make a hasty exit over the heads of the group and their assailants. However, when even this was quickly broken off. Now, she was standing... well, not really struck dumb, but pretty much frozen with her shock and the speed of recent events. Not as frozen as some of the disfigured corpses littering the ground, though...
   It took a few minutes to gather any sort of sense in the midst of the situation. The figure regarded her 'companions' very skeptically, and was just about to turn around and walk away again. She looked with distaste as the last Mer hit the ground, more at Paige than her victim though, and then regarded the rest of the party. Smoothening her clothes out and brushing splinters of frozen flesh off one of her sleeves, her eyes finally settled on Keaton. If that one was the leader of the group, and things were going this way... It was utter chaos. She must understand. She had to make the girl realize that, even if the psychedelically-colored thing from before really had tried to give them only one option just then, they really had to try and work things out and not just charge headlong into more calamity. She only had about half an hour of haphazard information to go on herself, and if she was to make any sort of sense of things...
   Steeling her nerves, and preparing to run damn quick, lest she end up like the Mer littered around them, the figure approached Keaton and tugged on the jackal's arm.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Witt raised an eyebrow at the white winged wolf.

"What a lovely set piece. Pity about that last shattering experience. If you're all done playing here, we need to get the lead out, cause Pandora, that feathery chick over there, is heading out of here, and if we don't keep the fuck up with her, she'll leave us behind. I suspect that's probably a bad idea."

With that, he shrugged, and sauntered jauntily off after Pandora, whistling to himself.

[Aisha deCabre]

When the last of her own Mer victims fell by her flaming chain, Aisha stood back and watched the body burn in its agony with an unreadable expression.  To say that the demoness hadn't any pity for the Creatures was an exaggeration...but she always said that it was their own fault if they were to have a life of fights.  Doubtless, perhaps, she had unwittingly avenged some victims by the Mer's own hand.

But that was all past.  As the panther turned to glance over the rest of the group, her wings pulled back against her shoulder blades and the fires on her weapons doused, leaving behind their normal silvery hue and well enough to put back over her belt.  Any wounds she received disappeared due to her quickly-hardening flesh.  She smirked then, looking at the others.  Quite creative ways of dealing with the unfortunate adversaries.  Only one was left...until it was promptly shot.

Aisha turned to glance at the voice that had shouted with exaltation.  A...human?  It couldn't be...

But, to Aisha's skepticism, not really.  Only one Creature type had the natural ability to be human.  Before them stood a new stranger, an avian Were.  The felid's eyebrow quirked at the introduction.  So SHE'S Pandora.  Brilliant stroke of luck.

"I'm definitely all for getting out of here," Aisha muttered.  In a very casual, uncaring fashion she took the bracers from their place on her belt and locked them back on her wrists, one after the other.  The wings appeared to dissolve back into the holes in her armor, as well as her power starting to wane until she was basically the magical strength and appearance of a Being.  There was only a pause to break Paige out of her icy barrier before moving with the others.

[Cogidubnus]

 "OhshitohshitohshitohSHIT..."

The ground beneath Cog squished wetly as he ran, the group behind him left far in the distance - in the distance, he could see the familiar outline of Pandora's workshop, overshadowed by the larger shape of the hanger that sat next to it. Each breath coming in a panting gasp, Cog slid on the mud a few times as he tried to stop, and slammed into the chain link fence next to the ragged hole that served as Pandora's personal entrance into the junkyard. Fumbling, his hand caught on the side of the jagged metal, tearing a bright red line of blood in the wolf's hand. Still stumbling, Cog hissed as he breathed in, and sucking on the ragged cut he ducked through the narrow opening into Pandora's back yard.
"Dammit, aw hell..."

"PANDOORRAAA!" the wolf screamed as he ran into the yard, headed for the mechaic's workshop. It was likely that's where the wolf could find her, as that's where the majority of her time was spent. As he sprinted for the smaller building, he noticed the hangar doors swung open wide. Cog's eyes, ever-wide, locked onto the phenomena.
The lights were on.

"PANDOOOORAAAA!" the wolf screamed, sprinting for the hangar doors. His breath was coming in quick gasps, now. "Ah, SHIT, Pandora..."
Cog could make out the small figure of Axiyne at the hanger door, his brown body capped with the strange little hat and goggles that the Gryphon B always wore. Cog called out to the little guy.
"Axiyne, where the hell is Pandora, I-"

Cog paused about where the four-legged gryphon was standing, the wolf's shoes squeaking slightly on the hangar floor as he looked at the monstrous necromancer-mechanic from before standing calmly in front of him, surrounded by five of his strange, glowing robots. Cog paused, stopping silently, and despite himself, just slightly tilted his head.

And then he screamed.

[Tapewolf]

Cross looked with interest at Pandora.  By the looks, she was a Were.  Cool.

He glanced with distaste at Paige.  Despite his own rather questionable occupation, one thing he really didn't like was soul-slaying, and he'd seen that expression enough for it to be pretty clear what had happened.

"That sort of death is a very bad habit," he said, and returned to the corpses.  Two of his fingers sharpened for a moment.  There were a series of flashes, and he shoved the grim, time-frozen trophies into one of the large pockets in his trenchcoat.

Mer ears... Master will be very pleased with me...

He stood up, and hurried after the others.  Time was of the essence now.  The Mer were a very powerful faction and they'd just killed a bunch of them.  In short, they were in even deeper shit than they had been before.  And it would be worse still if they ever realised that one of their number had been soul-murdered.

[techmaster-glitch]

   Arcwelder was about to make a comment about 'damn straight something's going on in my junkyard', when he heard someone screaming Pandora's name. Arcwelder cocked his head toward the voice, until someone burst through the doors of the hangar. The man looked at Arcwelder, was silent for a moment, then started screaming.
   Whatever 'calmness' Arcwelder had before was lost when he saw the wolf. His half-metal face screwed up in a look of rage. "You. He snarled in a horrible voice, and took a step toward him. "You and those other...full-flesh people...tresspassed in my territory...and led a horde of...monsters!...to...INVADE MY HOME!" He yelled, taking more steps toward the wolf the whole time. "And then...they...they...KILLED! ALL! MY! FRIENDS! Every one! Zap, all gone! This has been a REALLY...BAD...DAY."
   Arcwelder was now a mere pace away from the wolf, the insanity in his (one good eye) clear. It almost looked as if he were close to tears. The five zombiebots had followed him close behind, and were now spread out menacingly. In something close to a whisper, he said, "And there is going to be hell to pay. Dearly."

[Sunblink]

...Keaton:

After the disbelief faded, Keaton remained where she was before the giant snow-globe structure, her free hand on her hip and her foot drumming a curt, intolerant tattoo against the trash-laden ground. After a very insignificant amount of time, she raked her hand through her hair and emitted a frustrated sigh. What was taking so long? They should have been at Pandora's workshop by now. Hell, she could have run a marathon around the junkyard within the time this was taking. Of course, this was an exaggeration, but Keaton certainly didn't think so. Once Witt approached her and proffered the robe, her ears perked and she glanced, surprised, in his direction, a little stunned by this act of charity. Even moreso, she was bewildered by the unusual, spike-crowned helmet Witt was wearing.

"Huh? Oh, thanks," Keaton responded, accepting the robe. She started to clean her face with it, wiping away the meager dapples of blood besprinkling her features.

She concentrated slightly, and the remaining blood on her body started to swirl and warp, slithering along her limbs until they seemed to peter out of existence. Another assessment of her body made Keaton conclude that she couldn't affect the blood on her clothing. She'd have to shapeshift herself a new outfit. Enough wiping and rubbing with the robe managed to smear away the congealing blood, though. Keaton turned to address Witt. "Well, we -"

Before she could finish that statement, the globe started to disintegrate, unveiling the disfigured ice statues standing, petrified, amongst the ice and snow. Some of them sported distinct expressions of horror caricatured by the accenting, jagged pinnacles of ice layering their forms. Others, on the other hand, like the one cradled lovingly in Paige's arms, were treated to a less fortunate fate: a swift soul-sucking. It was the only possibility Keaton could reach, especially when Paige's face was so similar to how she'd look shortly after devouring someone's soul. Kytharion particularly liked that. He liked having his enemies eliminated for that indefinite period of time. His approval almost perverted Keaton's addiction to soul-stealing, making her uncomfortable.

Not many people seemed to enjoy Paige's display for what Keaton could only assume were sentimental issues. Being nurtured on the concept of soul-stealing for her life, Keaton didn't understand what the fuss was about. Sure, the idea was probably disturbing, but a Cubi needed to eat - they needed to get stronger, who wanted to die at an Adventurer's hands at the meager age of early three-hundred? - and most of those souls were undeserving of tangible existence anyway. Furrae were wicked creatures. Life was cruel. Why should the afterlife be any different?

"Right, right," Keaton said, trying to keep herself from staring lustfully at the escaping, diaphanous soul-essence drifting through the air, just before it was siphoned into Paige's body. Made something in her stir painfully, like Keaton wanted to grab the soul and cuddle it affectionately, and then suck it dry herself, like Cogidubnus would to his precious drugs. She clapped her hands a few times to get the party moving, ignoring how the sounds irritated her ears. "C'mon. We don't have all day. We -"

Yet again Keaton was interrupted, this time by an insistent tugging on her sleeve. Keaton froze in place and spun around, her irises angling themselves up to gaze at the hooded figure standing there. Oh, the newcomer. She had forgotten about her. Thought she didn't survive the skirmish at first. Keaton inclined her head to the side, then gestured for Sal to follow her. She started walking. Getting the message, Pandora also started to walk, ambling casually and with a confident swagger to her stride. With this accomplished, Keaton craned her head around to look at Sal.

"Right, you're the new... whatever," Keaton shrugged. "What do you want?"

---

...Axiyne:

As Cogidubnus barreled into the hangar, screaming out Pandora's name, Axiyne's ears pivoted upright and he snapped his head in the approaching wolf's direction. Just before he could ask Cog what he was doing here and why he appeared so distraught, Arcwelder suddenly began to openly scream something about - something about his children, and that they had been murdered by monsters. Monsters? The idea puzzled Axiyne. At first he started to panic about the concept of a Gryphon attack, that would have been a nightmare, especially since he would probably be responsible for attracting a member of his enormous brethren.

Now wasn't the time to let his mind wander away from the present, though. Especially when they were being surrounded by a large group of irate-looking zombie-robots. Oh shit, oh shit, oh SHIT... Axiyne repeated in a mental mantra over and over again, starting to back away from the formation. His first instinct was to run, but he couldn't abandon Cog to be at the mercy of these things. Shaking a little, Axiyne's hackles rose, he planted his talons to the ground, and he attempted to snarl in a manner which he hoped sounded intimidating.

It didn't.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Tapewolf]

"Cogidubnus," said Cross.  He was addressing Keaton.
"He is no longer with the party.  If he is critical to the mission's success, we will need to search this hellhole for him."

And if he isn't, you'll need a new Beta, he added mentally.

[Stygian]

This time the figure actually had the time and felt stressed enough to make a few flickeringly quick hand signs, before grasping Keaton's complete obliviousness and immediately stopping short, before slapping her palm straight to her face. This in turn gave the Cubi ample time to examine the woman's hands, no longer covered by gloves as they were. Smooth and glossy black, they looked almost as if molded from some polished metal or lacquered ceramic, only a few thin segments and lines sliding gracefully over their well-shaped forms. There was no separation from her claws and the tips of her long fingers, and though they looked slender perspective revealed that her hands were actually quite large. Before Keaton had the chance to comment on anything though, that hand across the figure's face slipped up to the head of her cowl, and pulled it back.
   In all of her years, it was easily the strangest face that Keaton had ever set eyes upon. Far from the most unpleasant - quite the contrary in fact - but still. She could not help but notice first of all the four pairs of gleaming eyes that set on her, two large ones placed centrally like her own, and six significantly smaller ones situated around those, all dark, dark maroon toward the edges but growing clearer toward the center until they were ruby red in the middle. The stranger's face was quite human-like, but lacked a nose, instead having simply a bump over the shapely lips of her mouth. A prominent seam parted her lower lip, and went all the way down under her chin, and to the corners of her mouth two large, metallic gray fangs were clearly visible. Slight dark red markings over her polished black skin accentuated and beautified her already comely features, and as a finish to it all her head was topped with somewhat short, ruffled and spiky hair, dark red at the roots but growing blood-colored toward the tips. It was the sort of face that creates insecurity, though not from fear.
   Again, the woman, obviously some sort of spider, moved her hands and gestured. This time though, it was much easier to see what she meant. She made a sort of walking motion with her hand, and then jerked her thumb in the direction of the exit, then almost leaned in and examined Keaton with a questioning look on her face.

[Cogidubnus]

Cog stopped screaming about as soon as Arcwelder started moving towards him, the yell morphing into a high-pitched whine as the robot necromancer moved closer to the diminutive gryphon and himself. He took a few shuffling steps back, nearly falling over himself as the twisted, half-metal construct began screaming at him about mobs and the destruction of his home and various other crimes he felt the wolf responsible for. Cog simply whined in response - rather than being sad, the bedraggled wolf simply looked pathetic.  As Arcwelder finished his tirade, and next to him, Cog could hear Axiyne's talons digging into the floor, and the sound of the little guy growling at the assembled robots. Cog glanced at him, and then back at Arc.
Axiyne never had been good at being intimidating. Seeing him try to be, for Cog, made the wolf pause.

Arcwelder had leaned in close to Cog's face, green-glowing eyes only inches away from the wolf's own yellow orbs. The brim of Cog's straw hat was just about touching the metallic necromancer's brow - it took all of Cog's willpower not to scream again, staring into those whorling orbs of dark magic.
Specifically, it took the sound of Axiyne's growling. There weren't a lot of people...nice, to Cog. Pandora and Axiyne were two of them.

Cog did the only thing he could. In the blink of an eye, he extended two fingers of his hand and poked Arcwelder straight in the eyes, claws extended, and practically jumped backwards as he turned and ran.
"Come on!" he yelled at Axiyne, and ran through the slightly damp grass outside towards the smaller building of Pandora's workshop.

If Cog could remember correctly, Pandora kept a few things in there that might come in handy, right about now...

[SpottedKitty]

By the time Fal'taq had run out of Mer still standing he was breathing a little hard from the exertion. Perhaps he had overdone things a little, but after the frustration of having to run from the fight at the docks, in which he wasn't sure if he'd managed to do anything constructive, it was a pleasant change to face someone with the courtesy to fall over and die when you ripped them in half or blasted holes through them.

As the mole leaned — cautiously — against a hulking piece of junk catching his breath, he saw the mysterious Pandora character they'd been looking for make her appearance. A Were, fascinating. I wonder what she has that Cogidubnus thinks can get us off this wretched island? And where did he run off to, anyway?

Fal'taq looked around just in time to notice Paige's reappearance. Another 'Cubi? he thought. Then he realised what she'd been doing to the Mer she'd imprisoned with her, and remembered what he'd once wanted to do to the wolf. Oh my. Pleasant as it might have been, I think I had better forget all about that. Then an idea struck him. Weres... 'Cubi... Demons... how many of these people are actual Beings? As he walked off after Keaton and Pandora, he cast a suspicious glance at the fisher with the crossbow.

[techmaster-glitch]

   When Cog did a double-eye claw to Arcwelder, it was only partially recieved. One of his eyes was the black one, on the flesh left side of his face, but the other was little more than a green light on the right metal side of his face. Nevertheless, it did have the intended effect, and Arcwelder reeled back, howling in agony. His five zombiebots went ballistic, but didn't actually make anything go boom. Yet.
   Arcwelder was doubled over for a few moments, clutching his now-ruined eye with both hands. After a few moments, he straightened up, face still gritted in pain, flesh eye bleeding black oil. Slowly, he reached up with his mechanical hand, which itself did slightly resemble a claw, closed the pointed fingers around the socket, then ripped the whole eye out.
   The torn black orb fell to the ground.
   When Arcwelder refocused with only one 'eye', the wolf and the feather-creature were already gone from the hangar. No matter. Arcwelder would find the wolf and destroy him later. The feather-creature, on the other hand, would make a very unique test-subject...
   That is, if he got his home back. Which is why he now stood still, waiting for Pandora to return. This was her home. She had to come back sooner or later.

[Boog]

The fight had ended too fast for Ty to do much beyond slamming a few Mer down before they could do anything inconvenient. Watching the rest of the group's reactions afterward he couldn't help a mild twinge of distaste. The wolf, seeing to the Mer corpses with a knife. The woman who had been rather good with those battle claws, gathering souls. The mole in general just struck him as worrisome. What manner of persons had he involved himself with?
Amongst them, it would appear, were weres. He tried not to openly stare at Pandora when she stepped out in human shape; regardless of the actions of the others, he would at least try to be polite. He visibly relaxed when she reverted to furrae form. He joined the others following her, eventually catching up with Witt.
"Pleasure fighting alongside you, by the by," he nodded to the porcupine with a smile, barely remembering at the last second that one with teeth like his kept their mouth closed to make a good impression. "That was rather quick thinking back there, most impressive."

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Witt looked up at the big saurian. "You're not so bad yourself - and thanks for the assist."

He swaggered on for a bit, then continued "There's not so much fucking thought to it, though. You wanna fight, you fight. No bloody pussyfooting or fanny-arsing around, you just hit the cocksuckers hard, and hit fast. That way the bastards don't get a chance to argue the fucking point." He spat reflectively. "Pity about the bloody Mer shorting out all those gods-forsaken bots, though. They would have been more fucking fun."

He nodded to the wall of muscle, then sauntered onwards, catching up to the woodpecker, slowing his saunter down to match her swagger, and idling along at her side for a moment or two.

"Nice fucking shot." He glanced up at her, and grinned. "You a weapon-smith, or something?"

[Tezkat]

Cogidubnus wasn't the only missing member of the party. Edge disappeared early in the fight against the junkman after a multilimbed mechanical monstrosity chased him over a tall heap of scrap metal. Nobody had seen him fight the Mer, at any rate.

Once the sounds of battle died down, a scrawny feral rat poked its head out from under a pile of debris. Nose twitching, the tiny animal sniffed the air and looked around. It regarded the victors intently for a while and then ducked back into the trash.

+ + +

"So... you can make yourself new friends when the old ones break. Does that work for eyes as well?"

The owner of the voice was perched up on the scaffolding surrounding the gargantuan... whatever it was that inhabited Pandora's hangar. Arcwelder could recognize the black panther as another of the trespassers from before. His black leather coat sported a thin tear across the left shoulder--a scar from the battle with the zombie bots, perhaps. A matching hat partially covered his hair and eyes. He didn't appear armed. Where was the sword he'd been wielding in the junkyard? The nasty black blade could slice through metal like butter.

The feline hopped lightly down to the ground and advanced on the wounded junkman. His posture didn't seem threatening, however. If anything, it was incongruously casual and familiar, as if the necromancer and his deadly posse were old friends. One could read anything in that smile.

[e_voyager]

Blood and death. Epyons world had kind of blurred for a few moments and now as it came back into found he found himself among more dead. His sai's were dripping clear of the blood that he'd dirty them with in his frantic attack and the sounds of battle had somehow stopped. not really thinking he began to clean his sai's as he looked around a little mystified as to what had happened and why he was still in the lad of the living in his not quite living state.

As he calmed down and put his sia's away he saw the life energy or souls of his victims behaving oddly. Worried about it he took a sia and went to each body beheaded it and removed the brain. He would not be responsible for bringing more undead monstrosities into this worlds he existed in. his grisly task down he walking towards the group only to see that leader following a pink bird with and odd Aura. the bird stop to examine a mer body then moved on. He followed the group and looking around again. the spell blade had changed some how. Then he saw it, she had more life energy some how and the souls he'd seen but they were gone. Were the two connected? He shuttered the think so.

[Mel Dragonkitty]

Penny followed behind Witt and Ty, scanning the piles of junk as they moved towards the exit. With no idea where the trash monster had gone she was in a hurry to get out of the junkyard. She half expected him to attack again now that they had taken care of the mer and were all strung out along the winding path.

[Cogidubnus]

Other than her hangar, Pandora didn't lock very much at all - people tended to stay away from the mechanic, believing her and the strange gryphon she kept with her to simply be two individuals asking for trouble. Going to see them was also asking outright for trouble, especially from the rather large, antique rifles that Pandora collected and restored.
She'd even shown Cog how to load and fire them, once.

Cog disappeared inside the building for a few moments, and after a brief pause he emerged again, holding an extremely long rifle in one and and a tube of black powder in the other. It only took him a moment to bite of a piece of his own shirt, and using the ramrod he stuffed it and a steel ball he lifted from his pocket down the barrel quickly. He slid the ramrod back down into the compartment just below the main barrel, and cocked the gun.
His hands were shaking again, and in his pocket, one could also see three strange, cylindrical shapes.

He was about to run in front of the open hangar doors, intent on firing on the junkman and his goons - a hopeless mission, considering how tough those robots were, and how slow it was for him to fire, but the panicked wolf hardly had a better plan. Before he took his first step, however, his eyes slid towards a set of stairs set up next to the hangar doors. A small door was located just above them.
Cog paused a moment, and ran towards the stairs. Taking them three at a time, he reached the top after only a few moments - the door was set just above the hangar doors proper, and reaching for the silver knob. He twisted it.
Locked.

Cog looked back down at the ground, and back at the doorknob, and taking a jittery breath he stood back and aimed the gun straight at the small orb of metal. He wiped a bit of sweat from his brow with his shoulder, and closing his eyes as he braced himself, he fired.
A tremendous roar exploded out from the gun, the small ball of steel, about .70 calibur in total at point blank range, blew the knob off along with most of the door that had been attached to it. The door opened of it's own violition.

Even squinting and grimacing from the noise as he was, Cog could still see the small glass-framed windows of a control booth, and the  controls set up in front of it. Cog's eyes widened, and he stepped inside quickly. The small room already smelled of the acrid scent of black powder smoke.
He reached for the items needed to reload the weapon - the place would make a very nice sniper's nest, after all, when he noticed all what was around him. The controls were not overly complex - the were, in fact, consisting of three levers, an ignition with the key in it, and a large red button. Cog's eyes slid upwards.
Dangling from the roof was an extremely powerful electromagnet, the type used to transport tons of metal at a time. Cog took a moment to take in the situation, and promptly dropped the gun.

The thing was currently suspended over the entrance to the hangar - apparently, it hadn't been used in some time. Still, Pandora had left the key in the ignition, and with a quick check as to the relative position of the magnet to Arcwelder and his goons, Cog twisted. Somewhere, a generator roared to life, and underneath the red button a light came on. Cranking on the third bar, measured in Teslas, all the way to the top, Cog slapped the big red button.

It was apparent why the device hadn't been used in some time - airplanes are generally made of aluminum and titanium, which aren't magnetic. Arcwelder and his robots, covered in rust as they were, however, were obviously made of a great deal of iron. While at first seemingly a distant feeling, as the device warmed up, the rust began to practically lift from their frames, and then they felt a bit light on their feet. It took a moment to realize that they weren't actually on the ground anymore.
  Cog flipped another lever, bringing the magnet closer to the five of them. Rather abruptly, all five of them began to levitate off the ground, and continued to gain speed towards the giant magnet as it continued to warm up.

[SpottedKitty]

As he walked through the maze of junk piles with the others, Fal'taq kept all his senses alert for anything else happening. He was fairly sure the mechanical creature controlling the attack hadn't been destroyed by the Mer weather-witch; possibly damaged, possibly not damaged badly enough to prevent it attacking again. Pandora, their new guide, certainly hadn't had a chance to shoot any holes in it. He couldn't see anything, though, in the fading late afternoon light, or hear anything beyond the group's footsteps splashing and squishing in the muddy path. It was his more esoteric senses that first detected something odd. Fal'taq's sensitivity to Earth magic meant he could sometimes feel the approach of a natural earthquake or landslide: among other things, it simplified the process when he wanted to cause one. Right now he could feel a vague sense of "oh, that tickles" from somewhere ahead, coming right out of the ground and up through the pads of his feet.

The mole walked faster until he'd caught up with Keaton and the bird Were. "Pandora," he called quietly, "should there be anything... energetic going on ahead? It might or might not be some magical effect of the green fire that mechanical thing used, but there is a disturbance quite close by. Somewhere near the edge of the junkyard, but whether just inside or just outside, I can't tell."

[techmaster-glitch]

   As Arcwelder was standing around with his guard, waiting for the return of Pandora, He heard some clanks and clatters overhead. Suddenly, he felt his metal bits and limbs being tugged at by an invisible force. He spun around, and all five of his zombiebots suddenly flew up and affixed themselves to a huge electromagnet crane above.
   Arcwelder's face contorted into rage.
   "No one..."
   His distinctive green electricity started crackling and gathering around his right arm. A lot of it.
   "Uses machines..."
   He pulled his arm back, as if to throw. The energy collected in his fist.
   "AGAINST ME!!!"
   He pitched his arm forward, and a multitude of lightning bolts wrapped around each other shot towards the crane, and into it. When it latched onto the crane, it almost seemed to solidify into a rope or leash. He certainly grasped the bolts like so. Using his power to temporarily 'bind' himself to the machine, similar to what he does with his zombiebots, he found a connection where the current was running, powering the electromagnet.
   With a roar, he then yanked on the 'leash' of green lighting as hard as he could. The electricity severed the connection by rusting it to dust instantly with mechanical necromancy. The electromagnet lost it's power, and the zombiebots dropped back down to the ground. Arcwelder got out of the way just in time. When the bots got back up, they were a little broken around the legs, but nothing irreparable or particularly detrimental at the moment.
    He looked up on the upper levels where the crane was controlled. His bots followed his gaze, and the three with ranged weapons readied to fire if they saw so much as a hair of a full-flesh person.
   They scanned the levels above, just in case something else happens.

[Cogidubnus]

The magnet, as large as it was, was suspended from two horizontal crossbars by a series of chains and metal bars, and those crossbars it was attached to bolted into the frame of the entire hangar. A series of large motors seemed to control the direction and motion of the magnet itself. Arcwelder's rope of necromantic magic seemed to do the trick, however, generators out somewhere distant shorting out and causing even the controls to emit sparks. Cog dove for his life in the small box room, staying beneath the windows, and scrabbling around once again for his gun.

The magnet's electricity turned off, the metal conduits rusted to pieces, and Arcwelder's robots fell like rocks onto the concrete floor below. Undeterred, they stood and looked up, searching in vain for some sign of whatever might have activated the device. Cog was, however, nowhere to be seen.
Metal creaked.

High above, half-rusted support chains and metal bars keeping the multi-ton piece of electromagnet groaned, and then snapped. Previously merely a circle against the high overhead lights, the shadow cast by the giant magnet pancaked around Arcwelder and his robots like a disc. Arcwelder only had time to gape as it slammed into them with a ear-shattering BANG.

A could of dust rose from the impact, and just to the side of the giant magnet, there was a slight gap, just about a half-foot off the ground - a stack of aluminum had been sitting right next to the necromancer as the magnet fell. It was perhaps the only reason he was alive, now.

[Snuggles]

Anton kept to the air as he follow the rest of the group. Having eyes in the sky gives you an advantage no matter how you see it. He started to look out for anything that would be attacking, if any. He started to wonder about where this party was going to go after this. If we have to go through another fight in this junkyard, i am just going to wait ouside for them. If they get hurt, which not a lot of these people do it seems like, i can heal after they are done with this place. Almost like he was promising himself that, he nods his head for no good reason.