deercountry | stay out my way motherfucker

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Entry tags:

stay out my way motherfucker

Who: Everyone involved in the Tyrant player plot!
What: It's time to Kill A Tyrant.
When: End of April.
Where: Clearing outside Lumenwood

Content Warnings: Resident Evil warnings in full play. Zombie horror, body horror, violence, gore, character injury, character deaths. Will update as needed.

[It's easy enough to lure the Tyrant.

Umbrella didn't make it with much in the way of intelligence, you see. Just enough to follow orders, but not so much that it could reason for itself whether those were orders that it ought to follow. So it comes lumbering into a clearing just outside of Lumenwood, situated conveniently far enough to avoid collateral damage. Its steps don't shake the ground, but for some people, it may as well have, the impact of each footstep jarring loose memories of a different time.

But if there's one thing learned from then, it's this: even monsters such as these can die.

It just...takes a lot of firepower to do so.]

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[my, my. this is both terrifying and fascinating. but she lets the "fascinating" side of things take over, the former will do her no good.

she tries to throw fire at it from a fair distance. no luck.

so she closes on in, far enough that it can't actually reach her unless the thing can do the high jump, but also far enough in to do some damage.

fire pours from her hands, setting everything around it on fire. and hopefully it, too]

Yech, why did no one mention how bad this thing smells?

[One of the things that catches fire, however briefly, is the beast's creator, who flings himself on the ground, rolling out the flames before righting himself into a low, almost catlike crouch. And trying not to recall Alexia Ashford and her fiery blood...]

Bear in mind, it's more or less an undecayed zombie that's been taught some offensive and defensive capabilities.

Edited 2022-05-26 05:11 (UTC)

[well, ooops? she didn't mean to do that part, but she's still doing her best to control the flames. she's better with lightning, so she sends several bolts of it down to the creature]

When I think of zombies, I think of the not very bright kind. [she calls out, hovering above it just out reach] Whomever designed this one was thinking the opposite, apparently.

[The lightning causes him to step back, checking himself for any injuries, even running a hand over his hair. The bolt hits the Tyrant, causing it to roar and lash out with one massive fist.]

You just singed one of those 'whomever'. We'd sought to harness the strengths of a zombie while editing out the weaknesses. How much we succeeded... [He's admittedly impressed with his work, despite the horrors of its purpose.]

[luckily enough for Tinya, she's flying just beyond the Tyrant's reach, even though it was a close one she hadn't liked one bit for a moment]

By accident! And this is just not at all what I think of as a zombie, I'm more used to the George Romero shuffling kind of zombie. Do you think ice would slow it down at all?

It didn't tickle, but I'll heal up. Please tell if I'm missing an eyebrow? [Yes, and some of his hair...]

It's a zombie derivative. We edited out the weaknesses and maximized the strengths. Fire damages it more than ice does, but ice might slow it down, allowing someone else to damage it further.

Um. A little bit? [but she's going to leave the hair thing alone for now, it was bad enough she got him in the first place.

and at that, she aims to draw up the moisture in the air around the Tyrant, forming large anchors to both of its feet] Will that work?

[He lets out a small snarling sigh, but a wry smirk crossing his face takes the edge off it.]

Collateral damage. No matter.

[Meanwhile, the Tyrant struggles to lift its feet, tilting its face down to look at what's hampering it. Wesker draws his sidearm, firing a round at its neck, distracting it from reaching down or trying to pull its feet loose.]

Working as planned. [He glances up to her, a smirk of approval with a hint of a dangerous delight. Someone's enjoying this even if they're taking down his own creation.]

[good, because as a Legionnaire, she appreciates humor in the sight of nightmares. it chips away at the power of nightmares, even if it's only a small part.

she's staring intently at the Tyrant, ready to ice it up further to keep it from moving anymore. and she may be enjoying this, too. a lot. there's nothing like the thrill of real combat to light one's blood] Anything in particular you want me to do, where?

[The Tyrant is still trying to pull its feet loose, though the shot to its neck succeeds in diverting it enough to swat at its creator. Wesker darts back, out of its reach before vaulting onto a roof out of its reach.]

[Meanwhile, a random zombie shambles around a corner into sight, moaning, lurching toward the Tyrant. Which reaches out and with the back of its hand, baffs the zombie in the head, staggering it.]

Go pick on someone your own size. [He says this with the tone of someone chiding a playground bully, albeit with a hint of amusement.]

Where there's one zombie, there's more. They're like cockroaches. [He peers over the edge of the roof out of sight.] And speaking of the monstrosities, there's some inbound. They're incredibly flammable, despite the decay.

[she wishes she could do more. she'd thought that with her new Coldblood abilities, she'd be able to do more. with her flight ring working again, she'd be able to do more. but apparently she can't and she's completely frustrated with herself for not being able to.

she has to be perfect.

and she nods at the part about zombies and calls for him to get clear before she pours flames down on both of the zombies]

[He returns the nod, darting backward to the far end of the roof, not wanting to risk getting singed again.]

[The zombies go down quickly, clearing the path for a retreating group of civilians. And another group of Hunter surges into the field, flanking the Tyrant, some armed with crossbows, one with a jar of Coldblood with which they treat their bolts before firing on the thing. Despite the fire, the ice holds, and the beast roars, flailing at the Hunters, who stay out of range. One tall, grizzled Hunter looks toward Tinya, nodding to her, a wry smirk of appreciation, before firing another bolt at the Tyrant.]

[well, she learned her lesson. rather than the outward spread of a flamethrower, try to aim the fire more precisely.

thank the Mistress for that much, at least. and she hovers in the air, ready to apply more ice whenever needed, but it seemed to be holding so far, giving the local hunters a chance to get in and do some damage without having to get too close to the Tyrant. when the Hunter gives her that smirk, she grins back, pleased that she could help.

she only prayed that the ice continued to hold]

[So far, the ice holds, though it has started to sweat from the heat of the fire. Wesker returns to the nearer edge of the roof, firing into the thing's ear, drawing blood. The Tyrant roars, swiping at its own designer, who darts back again. He pulls a fresh magazine from a side pocket of his utility pants, slotting it into his handgun.]

Excellent work, and for what it's worth you've made an impression on Nihall: he's a tough one, as should be obvious.

[she stands ready to ice it up all the way, layers of thick ice if need be. and there's one thing to be said about her she's always been tenacious and she hates to lose. so she always fights as hard as she can to make sure that didn't happen. and she gets a grim sort of satisfaction when the Tyrant tried and failed to escape.

and despite her waiflike little princess appearance, she's a tough one, too]

Charged up again? Hit it when you're ready. We're wearing it down, which is a mixed blessing.

[He knows once the coat comes off the thing, its mutations will kick in. Though that gives it one large weak spot if one can hammer at it long enough.]

Sure am! [and she makes a small show of cracking her knuckles before pouring the ice on the Tyrant, reinforcing what was already there and moving further up its body.

she's hoping and praying that what they're doing is at least making a dent in the stupid thing, that they'll be able to kill it without anyone getting (badly) hurt]

[The Tyrant flails at the Hunters circling it, but as the practiced warriors they are, they keep a distance from it as they unload more burning arrows at its head and neck.]

[The creature's creator watches, looking from Tinya to the Tyrant and back. The damage seems to be wearing it down, but the way wesker takes a small step back on the roof suggests otherwise.]

You might want to fall back and regroup: your mark is about to mutate.

[she's got to give the Hunters credit, they're really pouring the damage on. and she knows first-hand how deadly fire can be.

she notes the step back. she's been fighting in groups for too long to not notice such cues from her comrades.

and she hovers a little higher in the air] It's getting ready for Round two?

Round Two will be worse, as it will start hitting harder and moving faster, once that coat comes off. However, it will have a weakness on its chest. And if a contact comes through I may have a weapon to wear it down even faster.

[Something pings in the side pocket of his utility pants. He draws out his Omni, answering it.]

Wesker here. Speak. [A pause... a smirk crosses his face.] All according to plan.

Oh, good. [she says, grim humor coloring her voice] The Mistress knows that if I wanted anything, it would be for that bastard to get even more powerful. Where's the weakness on his chest?

[she continues to hover in the air, out of arm's reach of the Tyrant, but within range that she can fully utilize her Coldblood abilities]

...that's both reassuring and mysterious.

The ligaments and fascia of the chest will expand, making the heart an easier target. We meant it as a failsafe, if it ever got out of its handlers' control. The downside is, it's still moving fast and striking hard, meaning we'll need more firepower.

[He pockets the Omni.] And while I'll owe a few favors to a ship captain and an armorer from The Gate, I have just the thing en route. If you'll allow me to go collect the necessary.

[He turns on his heel and strides to the end of the roof. Pausing, he vaults off, hitting the ground running, which in his case, means taking off like a black blur.]

["He better have something with oomph," the grizzled Hunter growls.]

Edited 2022-07-19 04:08 (UTC)

Oh, good. As though he wasn't already friendly enough. And, I should be okay, I can keep to the skies unless my powers would have more oomph at a slightly closer range. And, more firepower. I swear, as soon as this thing's dead, we should each get to kick it just for being a pain in the ass.

[and at that, she arches an eyebrow] Really? Now this I have to see.

[she watches curiously as he takes off faster than any human should be able to.

I sure hope so. This bastard needs to just fucking die!]

You're welcome to kick the thing, once I've taken a sample or two. You've earned it, and the creature's more than worn out the welcome it didn't even have.

((OOC: Switching over to the second phase thread...))

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