(OOC: Jayde has magic. He can fix your destroyed tires, you just have to ask him.)
Nice, Right now our team does not know that, btu they will eventually
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With consultation and some writing from @Executive
20/7/3251 /// 6 Sun LJT
Dense, thick heat oozed in through a gaping crevasse in the sky, drenching everything that the sunlight touched with a golden afternoon flame. Tanuki was sprawled out over the hood of the Dauer, which sat in the shade beside the river. Her forehead, neck, back, and cleavage all showed telltale signs of perspiration, evidenced by a moist layer that gave her lightly tanned skin a dull sheen. The sweltering humidity drenched her entire body and made her black crop top t-shirt stick to her back, but at the very least the cool breeze wafting over the waterfront helped fight the smothering heat. It was the brief pause in moments of tranquility like this where Tanuki could truly relax, even if it was interspersed between periods of chaos or even if it was almost 100 degrees Fahrenheit.
She sat up and peeked over. Mel was sitting on a tree stump and gutting two exotic-looking birds on a wooden chopping block. “Haaaaaaah?” she raised an eyebrow and groaned, watching Mel pick out the steel 00 buckshot pellets out of the meat with a knife. “That’s all the meat? We were hunting for almost two hours and that’s all we got?!”
“Well, yeah, it doesn’t exactly look like there’s going to be a farm nearby, isn’t there?” Mel shot a glance at Tanuki and shrugged. “These are all wild birds, the meat’s going to be really damn lean.” She dug the tip of her knife into a clump of bird breast as a pellet landed with a clatter into a tin bowl full of bloodstained buckshot. “Besides, there isn’t going to be much left of wild game this small if you shoot them with a bloody 12 gauge!”
Tanuki fell back on the hood and clenched her teeth as her stomach grumbled loudly. Drops of sweat slithered down the sides of her forehead like rain collecting on a rounded surface. Not too far away, Mel spotted the faint two-box profile of a white hatchback. Its shape was strangely familiar to her, and she struggled to recall where she had seen such a car before. After some moments of traipsing through many years of memories, she finally remembered, and her face lit up with a nostalgic smile.
“Wow, a Carica! I got my provisional license in one of those!” Mel exclaimed and looked at Tanuki, who still remained still on the hood of the Dauer save for her chest that rose and fell with each breath. “This is our chance to collaborate with other teams! I’m gonna go take a gander, you coming?”
“In this condition? Hell no!” Tanuki panted, resting the back of her hands on her forehead. “Can’t you see I’m dying? I’ll catch up later!”
As Tanuki lay on the Dauer’s hood, languidly reaching for the water bottle beside her, Mel casually made her way over to the white hatchback, where three young men were setting up camp for the rest of the day. She heard a familiar accent she hadn’t heard in many months, but upon getting closer and hearing their voices a little more clearly, she realized her original assessment was wrong. Very wrong. These weren’t fellow Australians, no. Before she could say hi, the crunching of dried leaves underfoot alerted them to her presence, and they all looked at her.
“Oh, look, another human being,” one of the men spoke.
“…pardon?” Mel tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, perplexed at the odd greeting.
“You saw them, right? Catgirls? Bipedal Cerberus sans one head? Centaurs? How about Mr. Roboto over there?” He pointed all around him towards the other teams in a frenzy. “Look, I’m just glad to see another… person!”
“Person…” Mel muttered, then smiled. “Pleasure to meet you. My name’s-”
“Oi lassie, where you from?” a second man asked. He wore a black t-shirt with ‘HAKARU GB’ printed on the left breast with a logo behind it. “No, don’t tell me… ok, riddle me this. Man U or Chelsea?”
“Man U…?” Mel crossed her arms, her smile turning into an expression of confusion.
“Haha, I knew it! A true connoisseur of football! It takes one to know one!”
“No, you nitwit! Can’t you tell a Kiwi when you hear one? And have you ever seen another Brit this tan before? Knobhead!”
“A Kiwi???” Mel’s eyes darted back and forth between the two quarreling men, their attention gradually shifting away from her until they were both completely fixated on each other. It was as if she wasn’t even there.
“Absolutely not, you muppets! Is this how you greet someone? Where are your manners?” chastised the third man, angrily pointing at his teammates as they quickly shut up. “My apologies,” he said to Mel who was almost about to leave, his voice remorseful. “They can get a bit… excited at times. The name’s Andy. I’m the team captain of Team Gearknobs. And you are?”
“Melanie, but you can just call me Mel! It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she smiled as she shook Andy’s hand.
“I’m Ed,” said the man in the Hakaru shirt as he walked over to Mel and exchanged a single firm handshake. “Mel, right? So, where are you from?”
“I take it you’ve never met someone from down under before?”
“Ahhhh, an Aussie, eh? Wait. Let me guess… Brisbane!”
“Really!” Mel covered her mouth and giggled, almost laughing. “Do I look like an uptown girl to you? I’m actually from Adelaide!”
“Damn, that was my second guess!”
“Jay,” simply said the first man, shaking Mel’s hand gently. “Delighted to meet you, Mel. I’m our team’s navigator and resident mechanic.”
“So you’re the gearhead team, I presume? And this is your car? A Carica, right?” Mel asked, even though she knew the answer.
“An ‘06 Carica SE 4WD,” Jay nodded, gently slapping the roof of the white hatchback as if it was a tired, old friend. “It may not be the fastest car out there, but you know how Hakarus are. Absolutely bulletproof, and with 4WD it gets the job done!”
“Yeah, bloody oath,” Mel remarked, crossing her arms. “These little shitboxes are like cockroaches. I still see them everywhere in Adelaide where people will abuse the hell out of them, and they’ll still run!” Mel bent down and looked inside, in awe at the pristine cloth upholstery and the spotless plastic furnishings. “Looks super fresh for a nearly 16 year old car… wait, 4WD and right hand drive? Only the Japanese Caricas had 4WD… and doesn’t the US have an import restriction on cars newer than 25 years?”
“Well… er…” Andy chuckled nervously.
“-it’s a long story,” Ed dismissed, waving it off. Something wasn’t quite right, but Mel decided to take their word for it. “What’s your team running anyways?”
“That thing.” Mel pointed behind her with a thumb, and the three men looked over her shoulder at the flamboyantly-colored Dauer 632 S. Andy’s eyes sparkled, Jay put his hands on his hips and simply nodded in admiration. Ed however was nothing short of flabbergasted, staring in awe with his mouth wide open.
“Bloody hell! Dauer, eh? I thought this was a shitbox rally, not Paris to Dakar!” He scoffed. “Is that even legal?”
“Better believe it. Tanuki- er… I checked the regs, and it’s completely legal. Trust me, you have no clue how much work I’ve poured into that shitbox just to get it to go around the block on its own power!”
“They have quite a bit of power, don’t they? Over 230 horsepower when new?” Jay squinted and studied the rally coupe from afar like a hunter stalking big game in the savanna. “And lightweight, too, almost as much as our car. It’s a far cry from the humble Carica.”
“You sure you can handle that much power?” Ed smirked.
“I’ve autocrossed in cars with almost twice as much power, of course!” Mel pouted and put her hands on her hips. How dare he doubt her competency in handling high-power rear-driven cars, especially given the fact she owned another one with twice as much power! “It’s my first time racing the Dauer, but it’s nothing I can’t handle!”
“I’ve done a bit of autocross myself,” Jay said. “And Andy here is a two time winner of the Hakaru Open Cup.” Indeed, no matter how much power the Dauer had over other cars, even if it was twice as much, actual drivers’ skill would not only be the deciding factor but the supreme court, the final judge before which one’s mettle would be pushed to the limits. While Mel certainly did have some racing experience in autocross, it was more oriented towards casual enthusiasts, lacking a certain official capacity that Andy’s experience wasn’t in any shortage of.
“So Mel, what brings you here in the first place?” Andy asked.
“Well, I think you’ll all agree with me that none of our cars are perfect,” Mel said. A hard to swallow fact for some, but a fact nonetheless that they would have to gradually accept. “The Dauer’s just about the fastest thing on the grid here but it’s only two wheel drive. The Hakaru is versatile, reliable, and has four wheel drive, but I’ve driven them before and they’re just mind-numbingly slow, almost dangerously so!”
“I think I see what you’re getting at,” Andy nodded slowly as his mind put two and two together.
“Can’t you see? We’re perfect foils to each other! My team has the speed, your team has the off-road chops; that’s why I think we could make a great team. We need to form an alliance if we want a real shot at winning this… or even just staying alive. Remember those huge cats, not the event organizers, but the absolutely massive ones in the forest from the first stage? Who knows what else we’ll encounter along the way!”
Quite a proposition, to say the least; their cars were almost as far removed from each other as two cars could possibly be. There isn’t much synergy between a high-strung RWD sports car from an upscale German brand with a stunning repertoire in racing and a frugal 4WD hatchback from a humble Japanese automaker with as much international recognition as the latter. However, where one car failed to perform, the other would excel. Together, perhaps their differences could be compensated by each other.
“Okay, so why should we help you? What’s in it for us?” Jay asked.
“I thought you’d never ask!” Tanuki cackled, appearing out of nowhere besides a very surprised Mel. It seemed as if moments ago she was completely immobilized and suffering from heatstroke, yet now here she was, vivacious as ever. She brandished Mel’s L1A1, presenting it to the trio of bewildered Brits. “Give to the Black Rabbit and it’ll give back; our tools and spoils of war can be yours!”
“Hey! That’s mine!” Mel snapped, snatching it out of Tanuki’s hands. She pulled the charging handle back and looked inside the action. Much to her relief, it was clear, but the sudden presence of Tanuki and the rifle itself still put her on edge.
“Who’s this sassy… lost child?” Andy asked, looking down at the much shorter Tanuki.
“Hey! That’s the CEO of Black Rabbit Limited, Nakajima Tanuki you’re speaking to! Captain of Team Black Rabbit Corporation! Meru-chan here is my lovely capti- escort and driver!” Tanuki and Andy stared each other down in silence for a handful of seconds that seemed like long, excruciating hours, a visible tension of daggers being exchanged between their glares.
“So you’re Mel’s teammate. What’s the mask and sunshades for?”
“For privacy, of course!”
“Oh, yeah?” Andy pried deeper, unknowingly making lighthearted small talk with a war criminal. With Tanuki. “If I took that mask off, what would happen?”
“It would be extremely painful… for you,” she answered with a sinister grin, hidden from sight. Previously under the impression that they were just bantering, Andy’s smirk was gone and he was left speechless at her disturbing bluntness.
“Let’s not get our knickers up in a knot, yeah?” Ed stepped in between the two of them, trying to defuse the situation. It worked: Tanuki’s shoulders relaxed and rolled down as the two of them stepped back.
“Alright, alright, let’s not… ugh,” Mel groaned. “Okay, how about this? We’ll support each other! You pull us out if we ever get bogged down in mud or whatever, and we’ll let you borrow our equipment if you need it. Guns, cooking equipment, you name it.”
“Sounds like a fair deal to me,” Andy nodded. “It wouldn’t hurt to help a fellow team out.” Jay and Ed seemed to be in agreement, but the latter was clearly much more enthused about the possibilities this alliance could bring.
“I don’t know about you two, but I’ve been itching to shoot an actual long gun for years! Not an airsoft, but the real deal!”
Team Black Rabbit amiably parted ways with Team Gearknobs for now, just narrowly avoiding hands from being thrown and bullets from flying. Now it was up for both teams to uphold their ends of the deal.
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Shitbox Rally
Stage 3: Addagarda to Duskriver Village
Stage Start: A little after 5 Moon, 20/7/3251, Addagarda Campsite
Weather at Stage Start: Hot, humid, cloudy, a horrifically dark night made worse by fog.
Weather at mid-stage: Hot, humid, and very cloudy, though the fog starts to lighten.
Weather at Stage End (First Car): Hot, humid, and still quite cloudy, though the fog begins to pass.
Weather at Stage End (Last Car): Hot, humid, though the moons can be seen as the clouds begin to lighten.
Stage End (First Car): A little after 7-and-40 Moon, 20/7/3251, Duskriver Village Campsite
Stage End (Last Car): 9-and-40 Moon, 20/7/3251, Duskriver Village Campsite
With hearts still pounding from the Dyre ambush in the camp, a lack of meaningful sleep, and orders to drive as if your lives depended on it, the Addagarda campsite was quickly abandoned. The heavy gravel soon gave way to patches of gravel mixed with dirt, and the road following the river became more of a rough trail. The treeline to your right carries a new level of terror every time you think you see amber eyes in it, and occasional howls remind everyone of the pitched battle in the camp. The night air is heavy with both fog and tension so thick you could carve it with a knife, and it’s very hard to see, even with your high-beams on. It’s not much better with off-road lights, as the fog kicks a lot of that light back into your face, making it harder to see. When everyone arrives, alive and in one piece, in Duskriver Village, everyone is glad that this time, the camp is further from the forest, instead being very close to the village. Several of the guards there show little fear when it’s mentioned that we’ve faced a whole pack of Dyre, and a few even mention that they’ve battled the wolves a time or two.
Notes: Randomization is active. Breakdowns are active. Time is in Earth Time.
New: This camp will still only last one IRL week, but will cover the rest of 20/7/3251, the morning of 21/7/3251, and the night of 21/7/3251. Stage 4 will be 22/7/3251 at 1 Sun.
Team Shift Happens
Distance Traveled: 177.6
Time (HH:MM:SS): 04:00:59
Average MPH: 44.2
Randomizer: 11
Refueling Stops: 0
Breakdown: 0
Total Distance Traveled: 888.0
Slow and steady wins the race, or so the saying goes. Malavera, despite his back still stinging from the spray of gravel and his heart still pounding from the attack, guides the Bricksley safely along the trail.
Team Wayfarers
Distance Traveled: 177.6
Time (HH:MM:SS): 04:39:23
Average MPH: 38.1
Randomizer: 9
Refueling Stops: 0
Breakdown: 1 (Powertrain)
Total Distance Traveled: 888.0
Not wanting to stop with all of the Dyre around, Jill and Jack Willow-Wright push onward to the camp, despite Chernobog misfiring on occasion and being a little down on power.
Team Gearknobs
Distance Traveled: 177.6
Time (HH:MM:SS): 06:35:37
Average MPH: 26.9
Randomizer: 7
Refueling Stops: 0
Breakdown: 2 (Chassis)
Total Distance Traveled: 888.0
Something’s not happy in the Carica. After losing their brakes partway into the stage, the team accepts a tow from the mysterious-and-silent Team Mrezhari, who get them close, but after their tow-rope came loose, Team Gearknobs have to drive their own car into the camp.
Team Fallen Angels of the Past
Distance Traveled: 177.6
Time (HH:MM:SS): 05:51:23
Average MPH: 30.3
Randomizer: 9
Refueling Stops: 0
Breakdown: 2 (Chassis)
Total Distance Traveled: 888.0
The Claussient was fast until bad luck broke both headlights and forced them to slow way down. The broken bulbs were fixed in the camp, but driving in the dark was not fun.
Team Slow
Distance Traveled: 177.6
Time (HH:MM:SS): 04:27:27
Average MPH: 39.8
Randomizer: 11
Refueling Stops: 0
Breakdown: 0
Total Distance Traveled: 888.0
Who knew luxury cars could appreciate dirt so much? The Schnell XL53 powers through the gravel-filled dirt with relative ease.
Team Oil Crisis
Distance Traveled: 177.6
Time (HH:MM:SS): 06:08:50
Average MPH: 28.9
Randomizer: 7
Refueling Stops: 1
Breakdown: 4 (Team Caused)
Total Distance Traveled: 888.0
It was all going great until someone hit another Dyre. A hasty field-repair of the broken radiator and slamming the hood shut gets the Union Magistrate into the camp, where more extensive repairs can take place.
Team Hillbilly Rollers
Distance Traveled: 177.6
Time (HH:MM:SS): 04:06:24
Average MPH: 43.2
Randomizer: 10
Refueling Stops: 0
Breakdown: 0
Total Distance Traveled: 888.0
Despite being tired, scared, and/or not quite drunk enough for this shit, team Hillbilly Rollers gets their IP Freeway Star through the gravel and the dirt in one piece.
Team Witchlight
Distance Traveled: 177.6
Time (HH:MM:SS): 04:09:50
Average MPH: 42.7
Randomizer: 13
Refueling Stops: 0
Breakdown: 0
Total Distance Traveled: 888.0
Elist decided they are not getting eaten by werewolves tonight, and put their foot down. Ambay is slightly disappointed that he didn’t get a chance to take a trophy. The EAAC Aphrodite is now covered in dirt, of course, but that’s better than many of the possible alternatives.
Team Mravolinski-Chitco
Distance Traveled: 177.6
Time (HH:MM:SS): 04:16:29
Average MPH: 41.5
Randomizer: 11
Refueling Stops: 0
Breakdown: 0
Total Distance Traveled: 888.0
When in doubt, floor it! Clearly that plan worked, because the Kontir Cunningham makes it cleanly this time. Maybe the dirt is better for the truck?
Team Blazers
Distance Traveled: 177.6
Time (HH:MM:SS): 04:49:12
Average MPH: 36.8
Randomizer: 8
Refueling Stops: 0
Breakdown: 3 (Tires)
Total Distance Traveled: 888.0
The Yamada was very fast in the dirt, and likely would have been even faster if someone hadn’t run over the hand of a dead Dyre in the road. The claws ripped a gouge out of the sidewall, forcing the team to put their spare tire on.
Team Machinas Con Passiones
Distance Traveled: 177.6
Time (HH:MM:SS): 04:55:37
Average MPH: 36.0
Randomizer: 10
Refueling Stops: 2
Breakdown: 0
Total Distance Traveled: 888.0
Everyone thought they were going fast. That changed after they passed the Yamada while team Blazers were changing a tire, only to then be passed by the Yamada after the tire change.
Team Quick Rally 47
Distance Traveled: 177.6
Time (HH:MM:SS): 04:54:12
Average MPH: 36.2
Randomizer: 7
Refueling Stops: 0
Breakdown: 4 (Team Caused)
Total Distance Traveled: 888.0
Good news: The Quantum Xenoanthropology department will be very happy to have samples from the Dyre wolf you hit. Bad news: The radiator on the Mara Kanyon really didn’t appreciate the impact with 600 pounds of werewolf. At least studying the wildlife of Crugandr is part of the mission.
Team Mrezhari
Distance Traveled: 177.6
Time (HH:MM:SS): 06:30:29
Average MPH: 27.3
Randomizer: 7
Refueling Stops: 0
Breakdown: 4 (Team Caused)
Total Distance Traveled: 888.0
Despite being mysterious, Team Mrezhari weren’t willing to leave another team to the wolves. After crudely tying a rope around the Carica’s tow hook and the other end to the Dunav’s tow hook, they pulled Team Gearknobs to within five minutes of the camp before the knots in the rope gave way.
Team Jockey
Distance Traveled: 177.6
Time (HH:MM:SS): 03:42:03
Average MPH: 48.0
Randomizer: 13
Refueling Stops: 1
Breakdown: 0
Total Distance Traveled: 888.0
Fear can be a great motivator. Four people in a tiny sardine can of a car, driving hard through the night on little sleep, dodging real live werewolves and hoping like hell they could find a safe place to rest managed to set the fastest time today.
Team RK Series Racing
Distance Traveled: 177.6
Time (HH:MM:SS): 05:16:06
Average MPH: 33.7
Randomizer: 10
Refueling Stops: 0
Breakdown: 0
Total Distance Traveled: 888.0
After the chaos of defending the camp, it’s not a surprise that team RK Series Racing took things a bit easy on the Dione here. After all, they got to see the aftermath of speeding down the roads once they got settled into the new campsite and got to watch three teams repairing radiator damage courtesy of a high-speed impact with a Dyre.
Team Black Rabbit
Distance Traveled: 177.6
Time (HH:MM:SS): 05:18:23
Average MPH: 33.5
Randomizer: 11
Refueling Stops: 0
Breakdown: 0
Total Distance Traveled: 888.0
Trying to drive fast while someone else keeps trying to shoot at the Dyre in the nearby forest isn’t easy. Luckily, the Dione of Team RK Series Racing makes following the road easy. “Just follow the Tangerine Tank.”
(Author’s note: I hope that this is in character for Tanuki. If not, feel free to ignore it and run with your own plan.)
Team Spy Kids
Distance Traveled: 177.6
Time (HH:MM:SS): 05:24:11
Average MPH: 32.9
Randomizer: 7
Refueling Stops: 0
Breakdown: 4 (Team Caused)
Total Distance Traveled: 888.0
Like many others having similar bad luck, the AST Elbrus encounters a Dyre at high speed, resulting in a broken radiator. Fortunately, you do have a spare. Unfortunately, no one wants to put it in on the side of the road (which, considering what you hit, isn’t a bad thing), so team Spy Kids limps their Soviet SUV into the camp. There, they join a couple other teams in doing the same thing: replacing a busted radiator.
Stage Finishing Order:
Team Jockey
Team Shift Happens
Team Hillbilly Rollers
Team Witchlight
Team Mravolinski-Chitco
Team Slow
Team Wayfarers
Team Blazers
Team Quick Rally 47
Team Machinas Con Passiones
Team RK Series Racing
Team Black Rabbit
Team Spy Kids
Team Fallen Angels of the Past
Team Oil Crisis
Team Mrezhari
Team Gearknobs
Team Shift Happens
Previous Chapters:
Over the Hill and Through the Woods - Stage 1
May the Moons have Mercy on Them - Stage 1 Campsite
Helpful Friends are Helpful - Stage 1 Campsite
Tune-ups and Tech Talks - Stage 1 Campsite
Having Mercy on a Missing Teammate - Stage 1 Campsite / The Missing Teammate - Written by TheYugo45GV and Madrias
Sleep? What is that? - Stage 1 Campsite
A Rude Awakening - Stage 1 Campsite
Another One Bites The Dust - Stage 2 Run / Stage 2 Campsite
Repairs / A Good Meal - Stage 2 Campsite / The Green Crystal (Written by TheYugo45GV and Madrias)
A Good Night’s Sleep? - Stage 2 Campsite
“Here Comes the Hound of Death” - Stage 2 Campsite Battle - Written by Elizipeazie, TheYugo45GV, and Madrias.
(Again, a huge thank you to @TheYugo45GV and @Elizipeazie for working with me on the battle, and for keeping it secret until we were ready to release it. Sorry if you wanted to participate but didn’t get a chance. I worked with a couple of people who had picked up on a hint in the Discord and asked me directly what we were going to be attacked by. They wanted in, and together, we worked for the better part of a week to get things right so the three of us could make an exciting moment for the Shitbox Rally. Anyway, now onto the story!)
Addagarda Campsite, immediately after the attack / On the Road
Kayden looked over at Kivenaal and Rukari, both of them still breathing heavy and looking around as if they might be attacked at any moment. “Mal, I hope like hell you can drive stick, because those two aren’t getting behind the wheel in this condition.”
Malavera nodded. “Might be some of the roughest gear-shifts this side of the galaxy, but I can drive.” He got into the driver’s seat and cranked over the engine while Kayden slid himself into the middle of the front bench and Rukari took the last seat up front. Kivenaal and Jayde got into the rear bench, only for Jayde to get right back out, pick up Kaylie, and put her in her usual spot.
Kayden reached for the CB handle and clicked it on, then said, “We’re going to go first. If these beasts have blocked the road, we’ll break the road-block.” He reached back to hang the microphone back up just as Malavera jammed the truck into first and floored it.
“Where the hell are my offroad lights?” Malavera said. Kayden reached up and slapped the switches, flooding the world ahead of them with the full intensity of their homemade roof-light-bar and the offroad lamps in the ram bar. Malavera cranked over the Bricksley’s engine, the 427ci V8 roaring to life moments before he grabbed the selector for their transfer case, rammed it home into 4-High, stomped the clutch into the floor mat, slammed the gear stick into first, and floored the gas pedal. As the revs rose rapidly, Malavera slipped his foot off of the clutch, two wheels kicking up dirt. With a snarl, he clicked the switches on the dash and the spinning tires stopped as the differentials locked up solid.
Kaylie was crying, her left arm a blood-streaked mess that she held up loosely to not stain her clothes or the truck. Jayde sat next to her, using a spare cloth to wipe away the blood and revealing the shining chrome beneath. Twice, Kaylie tried to pull away from him, and both times, Jayde had pulled her back to him. “I’m a monster,” Kaylie said.
“No, you are not,” Jayde replied.
“I killed those two wolves without-”
“We all killed tonight, Kaylie, but that doesn’t make any of us monsters,” Jayde said, cutting her off. “You fought because the alternative was to die.”
“I didn’t mean to kill either of them. Twin Suns, Jayde, this arm was built for war, and I used it without thinking. What if I were to do that to you, or to Kayden, or worse, if I did that to someone like Valentin?”
“You wouldn’t,” Jayde said. “It’s just not your way. You bluster and threaten, but you aren’t violent. I do not fear you, nor do I fear your arm,” he mentioned, cleaning the last of the blood off of Kaylie. He placed the blood soaked cloth into a plastic bag, then dropped it into his bag of holding before turning back to Kaylie and grasping her arm in his. “This arm is a gift. How many others would have died either time because they didn’t have the strength?”
Malavera swore in his native language as the Bricksley hit some rough rutted dirt, the whole truck shuddering and clattering, the mess in the bed clanking, clattering, tinkling, and rattling as tent poles, shell casings, spare parts, loose arrows, and weapons were shaken around.
Kayden spoke up, “Kaylie, it’s okay. When we gave you that arm, we told you it was strong and you’d have to adapt to it. This is the first time you’ve ever had to fight, and you survived. That is what matters. Project Nemean saved your life.”
Kaylie stared at the long scratch down her chrome forearm, the end result of her second Dyre kill. The only one of the group to literally take one out with nothing but their hands. “I’m scared, Jayde,” she said, looking at him. “I’m worried that one of these days, I’m going to hurt one of my friends because I don’t know what I’m capable of.”
“Then we work on that,” Jayde replied. He, too, noticed the scratch, and he placed his hand over it. When he removed his hand, the scratch was still there, but now highlighted in beautiful, vibrant gold. “Wear that scar with pride, Kaylie,” he said. “You did what no one wants to have to do, you went toe to toe with a Dyre and fought them in their own favored way.”
Kaylie stared at the much-more-visible mark on her arm and sighed. “Do I have to?” she asked.
Jayde looked at her, then said to her, “If you insist, I can repair that without a trace. It’ll get rid of the physical scar, but you’ll still have the mental one from this day.”
Kaylie shook her head. “Then I’ll keep it,” she said.
Malavera gave a grunt as he drove through a nasty rut in the road, everyone getting shaken around a little, mere moments before the Yinzer bolted past.
“We’ve just been passed by a yellow sardine can,” Kivenaal quipped.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Malavera grumbled. “Likely they’re worried that their shoebox could be a Dyre’s lunchbox.”
Kaylie, despite her mood, gave a short laugh.
Duskriver Village Campsite, A little before 2-and-60 Moon
The Bricksley roared into what would become their campsite, a cloud of dirt hanging in the air as the brakes screeched. Soon, the members of Team Shift Happens had their tents out of the bed, staked down, and were then sorting through what they had in the bed to put most of it all back away. That is, all except for two members, who had disappeared into a tent under a mysterious purple sound-blocking bubble.
“So, where’s Kaylie?” Malavera asked.
“In the tent with Jayde,” Kayden replied.
“After a battle,” Rukari said, “sometimes one needs to be reminded that they are still alive.”
Kivenaal sighed. “Well, this shit won’t sort itself,” he grumbled.
A little after 9-and-40 Moon, Duskriver Village Campsite
Sure enough, as Team Gearknobs rolled into the camp and yanked the parking brake to stop, Kaylie staggered her way out of the tent with Jayde not far behind, with Kaylie wearing her tank-top and leather pants, and Jayde wearing a light, thin pair of linen shorts and a light brown shirt. Kaylie wandered over to a tree stump and sat down, a smile on her face, while Jayde simply wandered over to the truck to look at the assortment of random junk they’d collected after the fight. There were arrows of various lengths and compositions, hundreds of shell-casings, shotgun shells, loose bits of unfired ammunition, Kivenaal’s shotgun and MP5-K’s, as well as Malavera’s railgun. Likewise, some of the team’s spare supplies had spilled into the truck bed, including a spare barrel assembly for a plasma pistol, several nuclear batteries, a badly-bent titanium armor panel, a box of overturned electronics bits, a huge chunk of copper, and a bunch of loose bolts. Also, there were springs and shock absorbers for the Bricksley, a carburetor rebuild kit, an empty propane torch bottle and the torch head to go with it, a couple of empty purple glass bottles, a plastic jug of kilju, a spilled tool kit, and several spare light-bulbs.
Deciding that the bed cleanup could wait until after they got some rest, Jayde settled next to Kaylie, pulling her close.
“So, how long are we going to be in this camp?” Kaylie asked.
“The rest of this day, the night, and we leave in the morning as usual,” Rukari replied, having overheard Kaylie.
“Biggest thing is, will we be safe here?” Kayden inquired.
Jayde answered, “We’re still in Dyre territory, but the far edges of it. We were outside a den last time. While there might be some stray wolves out this far, they probably aren’t of the same pack we encountered. Even still, I’ll go on patrol tomorrow night to make sure no one starts another fight.”
“How do you plan to do that? I mean, don’t get me wrong, the magic is impressive,” Kivenaal said, “but those fuckers are tough.”
“This isn’t my only form,” Jayde said.
Kaylie smiled. “He was Dyre-bitten,” she added, placing a hand on Jayde’s right shoulder, making sure not to squeeze or irritate the old scar. “So he has the form if he needs it.”
“Wait, he gets to become an 11 foot tall lion?” Malavera asked.
“He is not the only one with that form,” Rukari said. “I can do it too. Wasn’t Dyre-bitten, but it carries in blood and through birth. My father was Dyre-bitten, so I, too, have the Wyld form. I hate using it, though.”
“Why?” Kivenaal asked.
“Getting into that form is painful,” Jayde replied. “Getting back out of it is also painful. Also, some people get really scared if they see someone in that size because, well, it’s hard to tell a Dyre or a Wyld-form shifter apart until you’re so close to them that the Dyre could rip your throat out.”
“So, we’re safe here, right?” Kaylie asked. “Really safe and not ‘Oh, sure, we’re safe’ and then we have to run again?”
Jayde sighed and closed his eyes, reaching out and feeling where everyone was by seeing their energy, then opened his eyes, pointed into the forest, and said, “I felt three Dyre in there, the closest is maybe 500 of my strides from the edge of the forest. They looked to be hunting as a pack, tracking a deer running away from us. They are not aware of us.”
Kaylie nodded. “I guess that’s about as safe as we can hope for, then.”
4 Likes
For the teams with broken radiators, hook me up if you want repairs at the campsite.
1 Like
RK Series Racing; Stage 3 Drive
Most teams have already set off at this point in time, with only Team Oil Crisis and Rk Series Racing remaining on the battlefield. Somehow, nobody within the team was injured or damaged by the Dyre or other cars wildly speeding off. The Dyre had been scattered, which presented prime opportunity to book it out of this campsite.
Tim was currently sat in the driver’s seat, his head resting on the rim of the steering wheel in defeat. Connor quickly approached the driver door, opening it to take a peek inside.
“You managed to temporarily scare the enemies away from here. Please move over.”, Connor orders, having no difficulty in telling how shaken up Tim was.
After quite the time of mental processing of what actually happened, he obliges, freeing up the Cockpit for Connor to take seat.
Meanwhile, Constantin took the opportunity to “pack up”, which meant collecting what belongs to him and temporarily plonking it down behind the car to load his belongings into the trunk. He opens the hatch and swings it open, but as soon as he lets go and turns around, the trunk lid slams shut due to the failed gas struts. Because of this, the rear glass splinters, but manages to stay within it’s housing.
This doesn’t last long, as Constantin already has grabbed his stuff, launching it through the now-closed rear window, showering most of the cargo area in millions of “Detroit Diamonds”.
Still in the heat of the moment, he ignores the damage done and takes seat in the Brick, which then is driven over to collect Valentin.
Speaking of whom, Valentin was still sat in the middle of the now-empty camo, crying his lungs out in fear. The Tangerine-colored Liftback rolls up directly next to him and Constantin pushes the near-side rear door open, almost smashing it into Valentin by accident.
“GET IN THE CAR!”, Constantin blares from the other end of the bench, netting nothing more than a frightened-to-shit look from Valentin on the dirt floor.
“I said GET IN!!”, he repeats, now reaching over and grabbing the first thing of him that comes within reach. Unsurprisingly, that something ends up being a substantial amount of hair as well as his loosely-fit collar. With absolutely zero regards for potential pain inflicted, he yanks the bundle into the car, prompting Valentin to follow suit immediately after. The pull was strong, resulting in Valentin being stretched across the bench, both legs still dangling out the door, with his head mere inches away from the opposite door.
At this point, Connor gives the engine it’s all, the inertia slamming the rear-right door shut. Well… “shut”, as it wedges Valentin’s shins inbetween the window sill and door frame.
It takes a while of repeated shinning, shouting and being flung about before Valentin sort-of comes back to mind and goes about the process of righting himself, still very much mentally scarred from what took place earlier.
Constantin, meanwhile, managed to put 2 and 2 together:
“Could you have like… NOT DITCHED US ALL!?”, he shouts at Tim, even though he scattered the enemy by accident. “I don’t fucking know what to do when an entire pack of whatever-the-everliving-fuck those were attacks literally everyone!”, Tim counters, flailing his arms manically in the process. “At least i somehow scattered them!”
“By running off and leaving comrades behind… good going, lad!”, Constantin blared back, motioning to the still sobbing Valentin, now upright in the rear-right.
“Staying and doing jackshit doesn’t help, but uncoordinated retreat is a recipe for injury!”, he adds, promting Valentin to look up and at him as he was directly referenced.
“You can’t tell me that the navy is worse than this bullshit here… Half the grid on our end is some form of god-knows-what and the Taliban aren’t a mass of Grizzly-Sized wolfes…”, Valentin scoffs, quietly, while also wiping off some eye-sweat away.
This catches Constantin mildly off-guard and, truth be told, he doesn’t really have a way of countering that.
“Just stop lying about worse shit existing… I’d rather be taken hostage by Al-Quaeda than repeat this.”, Valentin adds, complete with finger quotes to round it off.
“Makes you sound like an ego-centric asshole…”
The car mostly turns silent at this point, lingering resentment between the human team members being palpable.
Valentin wasn’t a fan of being left to be turned into minced meat by Tim and Constantin’s exaggeration breaking the inherent trust that comes with military rank.
Constantin felt under-appreciated, given that he actually scored more kills than Connor. Although Valentin did have a point about the unnecessary lie about what being a soldier was like.
Tim just is trying to swallow the fact that he did run off, even if it was a short-circuit move in the heat of the battle.
The rest of the drive was spent in silence, with the Tangerine Tank passing a few broken-down cars which either already have gotten roadside assistance or obviously didn’t need any. On the other hand, they started to form a sizeable train of cars apparently using it as a beacon of sorts, which was rather ironic, given 70s-era headlights and no added illumination.
to be continued
2 Likes
TEAM HILLBILLY ROLLERS
Earlier parts
PART 0.1 - A prologue to the prologue
PART 0.2 - Another piece of the prologue puzzle
PART 0.3 - Viva la IP 4Z!
PART 0.4 - Robotman
PART 0.5 - Interference problems
PART 0.6 - Can I play Tetris?
PART 0.7 - Tangerine and familiar
PART 1.0 - Now things got serious!
PART 1.1 - Hello, Thibault and friends!
PART 1.2 - Poor kitty
PART 1.3 - Curse you, Team Oil Crisis!
PART 1.4 - Interlude
PART 2.0 - Bird bird bird, bird is the word!
PART 2.1 - D. Head
PART 2.2 - Good night!
PART 3.0 - Freeway Rockstar
PART 3.1 - DISCO TJO DISCO HEJ
PART 3.2 - Van-Werewolf 1-0
PART 4.0 - Calm after the storm
After having loaded their tent as quickly as they only could, the pink van was following the Bricksley close to the new campground, where our friends, still a little bit in doubt, put up the tent again. They were all sleeping relatively light, however. None of them was really sure that there would not be more werewolf attacks, but all of them woke up the morning after, so probably not. Although all of them had major headaches, Marie’s was probably somewhat alcohol related while Janne and Andreas only had headbutted the centre divider wall in the van a couple too many times.
MARIE: Oh god… I think I was drinking way too much yesterday. The shit I remember can’t have happened for real…
Janne pointed at the bump on his forehead and the dried blood under his nose.
MARIE: …oh…
ANDREAS: Seriously! What the fuck did happen?
JANNE: Well, it seems like we have upset parts of the local fauna…a lot.
ANDREAS: Who had the fucking idea to set up the camp there?
JANNE: CALM DOWN! It’s enough that we have had Marie involved in fights already, you don’t have to start one too.
The team inspected the van, which was quite a sad sight now. A good thing: the LED lightbars were still intact. But it really didn’t leave the battle without scars. The windshield was cracked, though not so it hampered visibility…yet. The bull bar was bent. The pink paint had numerous scratches and blood stains (not that it really suffered from an aesthetical standpoint, but still). The right corner was missing from the plastic front bumper, exposing the crash beam. Though, after a quick inspection, Janne’s conclusion was that the mechanics were fully intact. After duct taping the steering wheel centre pad together again and ripping out the SRS light, and washing away some of the blood and dirt for better visibility, the van was good to go. With the stereo cranked up with some quality tunes…
…the van sprinted away through the fog.
Actually, it was more than just a sprinter, it was more or less a marathon runner through the third course. The high seating position meant that they had a better visibility through the fog than most of the teams, and as Janne said, “the roads are rough, but on the other hand, look at South east Asia. Freeway Stars are everywhere and despite taking lots of beating they are like cockroaches!”. So Andreas had no second thoughts about flooring it. After a while, both the other team members were asleep.
MARIE: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
JANNE: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
MARIE: ZZZZ…uhhhh where is my beer…ZZZZZZZ
JANNE: ZZZZZ…what the fuck is Constantin Schrant doing here…ZZZZZ
ANDREAS: …who is Constantin Schrant?
JANNE: (briefly waking up) HEY MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS, DON’T ASK SO MUCH!
Janne slammed his fist on the button to the dixie horn, waking up Marie as well as probably scaring the crap out of the occupants of the Team Slow Schnell XL53 that they passed at that moment.
(VERY LOUD BLARING)
MARIE: HUH WAS WHAT THAT?
JANNE: WAIT WHAT!?! Uhhh…nevermind. I just had a strange nightmare.
ANDREAS: So, who is…
JANNE: HEY, MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!
Blazing through the fog, our friends managed to pass Team Mravolinski-Chitco and then also Team Witchlight, both running at a steady pace, but still, they didn’t seem to dare to keep up with the sturdy Ariyan van that had proved its ruggedness the night before. Some minutes after team Racing Stripes, they arrived at the campsite as the third car, with Team Jockey being the winner.
VEHICLE STATUS:
Interior unusually clean.
Airbag cover duct taped together
SRS light removed
Front bumper broken
Rear bumper scratched
Bull bar bent
Windshield cracked
Left side sliding door caved in, door handle broken
Right side sliding door being stiff to open and close, something must have happened during the werewolf fight
Still running like a champ!
TO BE CONTINUED…
@Fayeding_Spray @MrdjaNikolen @interior @Elizipeazie
3 Likes
i’m not exactly sure as to how, or if, i should react to this, given that my team noticed exactly none of that happening
still a good read 
1 Like
Nah, main reason I tagged you was not for interaction but mainly to notice you about that it happened.
I still haven’t really thought out the story but… 
3 Likes
Somewhere in the Garda Province, Crugandr.
Local time: 5:15 Moon - 7:70 Moon
Weather: Still hot as hell.
The Great Escape
The Magistrate hurtled across the camp, the engine roaring as it pulled the weight of the olive drab station wagon with it. Almost all the other teams had left, but K’mino had other plans than to be left behind. In the rear view mirror of the Dione, Tim sees the green boat complete a spectacular powerslide as it flew around the corner.
“K! Make sure you keep that foot planted, We’ve got to keep going until that fuel gauge shows a quarter of the primary tank left.” Aedan called from the back of the car.
“I’ll try my best. But there’s no guarantees.”
Meanwhile, Orlan was barely holding himself together, horrified that he was the reason that several people almost died. An idiot, a total idiot. Why did he have to go into the woods, why shoot at something that wasn’t trying to kill him.
“I’m an idiot.” He muttered, somberly. “Nothing but a fool.”
Over the sound of the car driving and the tires on the road, his brother somehow overheard him. “You aren’t an idiot, you made a mistake, it happens.” Aedan whispered
“But I almost got us and everyone else killed.”
“Hey, don’t worry about that, all of us got away safely. You saw it yourself.”
“I don’t trust myself anymore, I almost killed you guys twice before. I collapsed the bridge we were standing on, lost control of our ship, and now this.” Orlan explained, “My own friends nearly died then and they almost did today, its a disgrace what I have done.”
Aedan opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted.
“I opened fire on that wolf just because it stood up, an unjustified attack on something that didn’t even try to harm me.”
The sounds of the engine, the gravel pebbles bouncing off the car and sound of the tire filled the cabin and the silence remained for most of the journey. It took twenty minutes for Aedan to speak up and change the topic.
“Pavel? Where is Whiskers?”
Pavel looked at him and a meow came from one of the rifle crates, to which he pointed. “In… there. I didn’t want her running off into the woods and being eaten. I saw what happened to the cat our friends in the Bricksley befriended.”
Acknowledging the answer with the nod Aedan looked at Malcolm. “Speaking of which, Did we bring everything?”
Malcolm nodded. “Yes, everything that I saw that didn’t look like a stick or a pebble I tossed in the back. Hell, maybe I did throw a few rocks and sticks in. I double checked before we left.”
“I suggest we try to get some sleep. I reckon three hours of sleep aren’t enough for anyone.”
Everyone except for K’mino murmured in agreement. Despite this suggestion, the adrenaline kept the sleep away from them, and when it started to settle in, every small creak and bump snatched it away from them. The Magistrate continued to push on through the night, with the occasional rattle from the roof rack, creaking from the suspension, and the gravel and dirt bouncing off the underside and the fenders.
The 25 minutes of silence were broken by a question from K’mino. “How much further do we have to go?”
“Probably 90 miles? I’m not sure.” said Aedan. “I’m sure we aren’t last.”
K’mino glanced in the mirror. “But it does look like–.”
Suddenly, out of the blue Malcolm gasped.
“K’mino! Watch the road!”
“Huh? Oh Shit!”
The front wheels locked up, but to no avail as the Magistrate jolted violently and something tumbled under the wheels. The car continued for another four feet before it came to a stop, and everyone on board climbed out.
Orlan was horrified at what had just transpired. “You hit one of them!”
K’mino did not respond, only turning around and getting into the car’s passenger side.
“Guys? I have something to tell you. That wolf we just hit was a mother.”
The three remaining teammates ran around to the back of the Magistrate. There they saw the scene of horror, the Dyre’s corpse was laying in the road and there was blood streaked down the gravel road. Almost immediately Orlan spotted the two smaller beings laying next to the corpse, and he quickly fumbled for his sidearm, but something stopped him. He was back in the forest with the Dyre, it was curious, it wanted to observe him, not at all attempting to threaten or kill him. No threat at all, just like these two. The thought was cut off as Pavel placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. Looking down, the USP was no longer in the holster, but in his hand. Orlan turned away quickly, struggling to pull himself together and climbed back in the car, horrified that he nearly killed something that wasn’t a threat again.
Aedan sighed, walked over and picked up the two Dyre pups.
A look of concern flashed through Pavel’s eyes. “Are you sure its wise to bring them into the next camp?”
“We killed their mother, the least we can do is to protect them. Can you drive?”
“No, Twisted my ankle when I was trying to get back to the car.”
“Malcolm, what’s the damage?”
“Radiator’s been knocked loose and I’ve secured it back in position with a bungee cord. But, its leaking. I did reconnect some hoses but I don’t know how long it’s gonna last.”
“It needs to last us just until we get to the next campsite. You drive, Pavel twisted his ankle, Orlan and K’mino are traumatized, and I’ve got these two.”
Malcolm obeyed without hesitation got in the car and started the engine. Aedan put the two pups the back with Pavel and Orlan and moved the corpse off the road as best he could. He returned, climbed into the back and shut the rear hatch with out a word. The team then resumed the journey and continued driving through the night in silence, hopeful that they would be safe at the next campsite.
To Be Continued (Like Always) (This one is a little more haphazardly written as I have a bit of a creative block today.)
4 Likes
YEAH, SOME FOLKS INHERIT STAR-SPANGLED EYES THEY SEND YOU DOWN TO WAR AND WHEN YOU ASK 'EM, "HOW MUCH SHOULD WE GIVE?" THEY ONLY ANSWER, "MORE, MORE, MORE" IT AIN'T ME, IT AIN'T ME I AIN'T NO MILITARY SON, SON IT AIN'T ME, IT AIN'T ME I AIN'T NO FORTUNATE ONE, ONE IT AIN'T ME, IT AIN'T ME I AIN'T NO FORTUNATE ONE IT AIN'T ME, IT AIN'T ME I AIN'T NO FORTUNATE ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE NO NO NO NO TURUNNNNNNNNNNN DURUNNNNNNNNNNNNN DURUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN DURUNNNNNNNNNNNNN DURURN
TEAM BLAZERS
In the dead of the night as the gunfire raged on through the lush undergrowth of the alien jungle, the rest of Blazers managed to get a good night’s sleep in their tent, completely oblivious to the warring state that occurred with all the other teams. It was indeed only the rest of them, one blonde haired figure on the other hand, dealt with a certain matter as the dark raged on, and not long after when the air continued to smell of smoke, blood, and gunpowder, Watson rested himself on the Yamada’s door, clutching his 1848 Colt close to him. He pulled out a pipe from his coat, which almost seemed as though it had appeared from thin air, and disappeared from the same way, he lit it up and the scent of tobacco pierced his nostrils as smoke rose all around him, and for the first time in a while the cigarette had a far more bitter taste than usual.
Watson was worn out, much more than necessary. He secured his firearm back into its holster, and pulled out the faded gold stopwatch from his pocket. Still, the device didn’t budge, stuck in the same time as it was back in Negros, the hour hand pointed just after two, and the minute hand before three. The air all around him was a distinct kind of thick, embedded with embers of forces that felt familiar, but were completely distant.
Stuffing the watch back into his pocket, he sighed a puff of smoke as he tossed the still-lit pipe somewhere, where like his coat, it materialized into an existence unknown to everyone but him. He got up from where he leaned onto the vehicle, and covered a cough that originated seemingly from deep within his chest, and when he pulled his hand away, a splatter of deep crimson revealed itself on his pale palms.
And yet, he seemed unfazed as he simply shook it off his hand, with the ferrous liquid landing on the ground below. Still coughing, he looked around the clearing carefully, making sure not a single soul would ever bear witness to him, pointing his hand towards where a square depression was in the tropical gravel, he whispered words in an language unfamiliar. A blue haze took shape before him, slowly and gradually taking the form of a cheap hiking tent one would find at any regular department store. Once again, he coughed out loud, without covering his mouth a crimson red liquid fell out onto the ground, and dissipated within seconds. With his task apparently accomplished, Watson headed out towards the lush jungle before him.
Not long after, the rest of Blazers woke up from what they felt was possibly the best night they had had since their arrival to Crugandr, with Charlotte comfortably taking her place within Romulo’s arms, and Ga’araiya having made a makeshift pillow of Emily’s bosom. They woke up feeling far more energized than they could’ve been, but despite their bodies now being in good condition, something did not seem right at all. Someone was missing from inside the tent.
No stranger to them was Watson being the early bird, but instead of them being awoken by his loud cackling telling everyone to wake, they were instead met with a soft bestirring as they all got up at the same time. Romulo was the first to speak up between the four of them as he made his way towards the tent’s entrance. “Where’d that blonde bastard go this… time…” Romulo’s voice trailed off as he opened the tent up and found the morning still hadn’t come, and there sat a collapsed Watson leaning next to the Yamada, clenching the old revolver in his holster and his white dress shirt stained with an unusual tint that reeked of iron. Watson’s eyelids slowly blinked open, revealing his light blue eyes as they looked back into Romulo’s, and a smug look crept up on his face.
“You’ve awoken, it seems.” He coughed. “I bestow upon you a good night’s sleep and you still choose to call me by the term ‘bastard’. You do seem quite unappreciative of what I’ve provided.”
Romulo immediately rushed towards Watson’s side, patting him around to make sure he wasn’t injured anywhere, and indeed he wasn’t. The bloodstains on the white dress shirt had dried, and he couldn’t sense any other injury on him. “Tangina naman… fuck did you do this time? You sure you’re not hurt anywhere? Why’s it still night time?”
“Do slow down with the questions. My body is in a better state than it could have ever been.” Watson sat up. “Be that as it may, I’m not quite sure about the other teams.” He glanced around, the rest of the campsite seemed to be in a rush, and some of them had the same blood on their weapons and clothing as Watson. Charlotte emerged from the tent as well as the other girls, and immediately a disturbing reek had flown into her sensitive nostrils, and she began frantically looking all around.
“Looks like Princess Katzen knows something that we may not.”
“Dyres…” She said as the emotion of horror clouded her face. “They’re… everywhere…” She pointed her gaze towards Romulo, with clear distress in her eyes. “We-”
Before Charlotte could say another word, a deep disturbing howl sounded from the thick bush around them, followed by more howls that sounded as though a hunting pack had gathered around them. Rustling came from everywhere, and Charlotte’s fur stood up, her claws sheathed themselves, and her ears retracted, as though she was ready to pounce back and fight.
Watson got up from where he sat. “An announcement- or rather, an order was made for us to all evacuate this campsite. It’s not a very safe place where we are at right now. It would be best we make a move quickly. Other teams are already going.” He said, nearly collapsing again as he clenched his arm, muttering some incomprehensible words.
“Jesus fuck, man. You’re not doing fine at all. Get in the car- now!” He ordered Watson, who complied as he had nothing else to do anyway in such a situation. “Charlotte! You’ve got the notes?” He looked over towards the black feline who still seemed on guard, but calmed down at the mention of her name. “I don’t, but I have an idea of what the next stage should be like, I can sit in the passenger’s seat next to you, and we’ll be fine.” She says shaking her head. Romulo tossed the keys towards Charlotte, signalling for her to start the car as he made his way towards the tent, ordering Emily and Ga’araiya to get into the car, and maybe tend to Watson if he needed anything, they quickly complied as well as Romulo hastily folded the tent up, but something made him pause.
He stared into the dark jungle, and felt something stare back at him, deep orange eyes that pierced right into his soul, and muttering unfamiliar noises as it rustled away, leaving him staring into a deep darkness yet again. Charlotte called out to him, and Romulo immediately got back to folding the tent back, never pointing himself away from the bushes where he saw the horrifying reminder of the beasts that lurk in a world very much alien to him.
Not long after, the tent was finally placed into the Yamada’s rear compartment, and with the vehicle started up, they made their way out of the campsite and rushed out towards the gravel road, with Romulo just barely able to follow along Charlotte’s vague instructions, but a slight mistake sent the team’s anxiety levels high, as a sharp pop sounded from the vehicle’s front right.
“That fucking tyre!” Romulo exclaimed as he pulled the car off towards the side of the road, which thankfully was wide enough for him to walk around without getting ran over by the other teams which were all making their way out of the campsite as well. He looked towards the tyre, it was a goner, the sidewall had been torn right through, and a claw of the animal that Charlotte had mentioned earlier was embedded deep into the rubber, causing threads to have been strewn about everywhere. He looked around, and in the distance behind him he saw a disfigured, severed hand sitting on the side of the road, the blood still looking fresh from the point of severance, and a claw missing from one of its fingers. He felt as though he was about to throw up, but he held it in and asked Charlotte for assistance in changing the tyre out.
With the two’s teamwork, they quickly managed to jack the front right of the car up, take off the damaged wheel, and shove one of the spares sitting on the tailgate onto the hub. Romulo initially wanted to just leave the damaged tyre on the side of the road, seeing as there was no real vulcanization shop anywhere in this world they were in, but after a quick scolding by Charlotte, he mounted it back onto the tailgate, and the team once again set off on the muddy gravel road that ran parallel to the river. He stepped on the accelerator pedal which got them up to speed quickly.
Anxiety was high in the car, but still Romulo and Charlotte remained focused on the road ahead of them, the foglights Romulo had installed were working like a Charm, and helped to illuminate the thick dark fog ahead of them, but what it also did was show the true extent of the alien creatures that lined the sides of the road, every few metres a flash of orange would reflect back towards them, and shivers were sent down both of their spines as the howls continued on.
Up ahead, a pair of taillights glowed through the fog, and it slowly approached more and more, and Romulo was forced to back off the throttle until the road opened up a bit more, allowing him to overtake the slower vehicle. He recognised the car, a white van with a large number one printed on the side, a vehicle which had passed the team earlier whilst they were changing the tyre out. He flashed his headlights as he passed, before speeding up and having the van’s faint glow slowly fade away in the thick fog.
The trepidation the team was going through kept everyone awake throughout the drive, not helped by whatever Watson had done to wake everyone up earlier than they would’ve. The events right now were largely inexplicable, Watson’s bloodstained shirt, his seemingly injured arm, the creatures that lay hidden in the dark, lurking through the road, these were things that the team were never prepared to deal with, but now enraptured with the horrors that they bore witness to, they were ready to adapt with the situations ahead.
As they slowly crept along the road, the fog was beginning to slowly fade, but still the night was dark and filled with an eerie inscrutable dread, which sharply turned into an intense consternation upon Romulo’s catching of a flash that ran across the road. He slowed down slightly, scanning the road ahead before continuing back onto the pace he was going at before. He looked into the rear view mirror, in the distance a feint glow of another vehicle’s headlamps shone through above the passenger’s heads, and they didn’t seem to be gaining on them. Through the rear-view mirror, he had also seen the condition of Watson, who was now fast asleep, his head leaning on the headliner right after the door as the seat angled backwards. He could see the man was breathing, but was unfazed by all the bumpiness of the road. Ga’araiya seemed to have a perturbed look clouding her small face as she continuously looked up and down the collapsed blonde man. She rested her palm on Watson’s arm, the same arm he was clenching earlier, and a soft blue glow emanated from it, which quickly faded away, and the stressed look on Watson’s face gave way to a calmer emotion on him. Romulo briefly met eyes with Ga’araiya through the rear-view mirror, before he continued to look back onto the road ahead.
After a couple of hours with an ambience of thick trepidation in the air, the team finally arrived at the campsite, now closer towards the town than in the middle of thick flora, numerous cars were already there, some of which he’d not seen arrive before them. He parked the vehicle close to the river yet again, and took a minute to rest on the driver’s seat for a bit.
“Ray, can you sleep right now…?” Charlotte tugged on his sleeve.
He simply shook his head. “No, in fact, I feel very much energized. I assume you feel the same, don’t you?” He looked at her, and she nodded back.
Charlotte took a quick glance towards Watson, who was still asleep in his seat. “I don’t think we woke up naturally. It felt as though it were a magical spell used upon us. It didn’t seem like the type that people of this world would use, however.”
Romulo remained ecstatic, staring into the vehicle’s windshield at the river. There was a long pause before he would say anything, and when he did, his tone shifted to that of pure vexation.
“You know, Charlotte…”
It was clear in his intonation, intentional or not, and there was a sense of lassitude as he uttered his words of displeasure. No longer was he calm about things, and for the first time in a while, he’d felt as though he’d been peeved of any joyful emotion that could ever remain.
“…I’m pretty fucking tired of magic.”
4 Likes
RK Series Racing; Stage 3 Camp
NOVEL WARNING
The entirety of this post was written in collaboration with @Madrias. His post will seamlessly connect to mine as we have managed to barrel past the 32k character limit.
Duskriver Village Camp; about 2 sun
As the Anhultz Dione rolls up to the camp, it slows down and stops only a few feet short of impacting the Bricksley of team Shift Happens. By the time Connor had shut down the car, the three humans were already asleep, recovering from the rude awakening that was the battle with the Dyre the previous night.
The team gets up at a little after 2 sun the next morning, taking longer than usual due to the less-than-optimal sleeping position all three of them found themselves in.
Constantin, once again, wakes up first, but is pegged in the car by the still-asleep Valentin next to him, as his door and window won’t open to allow egress on that side.
About 20 minutes later, Tim wakes up as well, intensely stretching to loosen up a bit. This results in Valentin kind-of waking up as well, transitioning from true sleep to a state of half-asleep slumber.
Tim immediately exits the car to extend his stretching, the slam of the door kicking Valentin the rest of the way out of sleep.
The zombie that currently is in the rear right also more or less falls out the rear right door, managing to not hit the deck completely. He then joins the stretching session, though with substantially more structure behind it, starting at the neck and working his way downwards.
With the team now awake (mostly, anyway) they head out back and prepare breakfast, mostly in separation, as neither Tim nor Valentin seem mentally capable of meaningful conversation.
With that done, Constantin was the first to speak to the others, who in the meantime “warmed up” enough to be considered truly awake.
“I gotta go talk to the guys up front for a bit. I’ll be back soon.”, he exclaims, the others nodding in acknowledgement as he turns around and walks up to the Bricksley.
Back at the rear end of the Brick™, Valentin and Tim were once again discussing the events of last night, albeit with much less shouting…
“So you left all of us out there to die to save your own ass?”, Valentin accused Tim, still not happy about it.
“I was scared shitless and my brain went: here danger, need go, car can go. Thinking straight ain’t trivial when there’s a goddamn fight going…”, Tim replies. In hindsight, he knew that what he did was very much not cool with anyone. “And from what i know, you weren’t much better off, all curled up and such…”
“None of us were well-off… Can’t say i was mentally straight either.”, Valentin confirms, the thought of having his hair tugged halfway across the car prompts him to get his hairbrush out. He then starts going about trying to un-messify his hairdo as he always does.
Valentin and Tim were busy killing time and venting a bit by playing some Rummy (
;local names may include: 
Rommé; 
Rami; 
Jolly/ Rummy), when an enthusiastic Kaylie dragged Kayden and Malavera towards them.
“Oh umm… Hi.”, Valentin notes, being the first to see the group of three approaching. He still wouldn’t say that he’d be perfectly comfortable around them, but at least he knew some of them well enough to know that neither of them were an immediate threat.
“Well hello. Wanna join?”, Tim adds as he shuffles over to increase the available space in their little circle.
“Hope you have brought some chairs… we only have those two and the rear bumper…”
Kaylie stared at the table, recognizing all of the signs of a game in progress. “Don’t let us interrupt your game, we can wait. Plus, let’s face it, we don’t really know many card games. I’ve picked up Go Fish, but I know that’s a children’s game in the United States,” Kaylie admitted. “That, and no matter what we play, we’d have to teach Malavera, because he’s never really had a chance to play cards with anyone.”
Kayden settled down onto the ground, just glad to get off of his feet for a moment, and Malavera did the same. Kaylie looked around, then decided, tentatively, to sit on the Dione’s bumper, clearly testing to make sure she wasn’t going to break anything. Then, after a moment of thought, she looked at Malavera and asked, “You wouldn’t happen to have a spare shirt, would you?”
Malavera sighed, then shook his left head. “No. And I’m not giving you mine.”
Kayden chuckled and said, “Kaylie, you’re not going to scratch their paint. Your chrome is too smooth for that.”
Constantin walks up once more and retrieves his equipment, namely bow and quiver, from the trunk which, to his surprise, was still broken, but not mentioned yet by anyone. Being in a self-imposed time crunch, he doesn’t mention it either, instead electing to report his intentions to the others:
“I’ll head into town to get some replacement arrows. I’ll be back later.”, he says, already on the way back towards Jayde waiting near the Bricksley.
“Copy. See ya!”, Valentin responds, unintentionally slipping into the communications code he usually uses when cycling out with some local friends.
Him and Tim return to the game, which Tim ends up winning my a small margin.
With Valentin having lost, he was in charge of cleaning up the playing field.
He then goes to sort the cars by back-face color, separating the two 52 card decks from each other.
“Go Fish? Never heard of that.”, Valentin remarks, still sorting blue back-faces from red ones.
“Me neither”, Tim adds, despite being in a better position of knowing it, being an American and all.
“If you wanna play that, you’ll need to explain”, Valentin says as he finishes sorting and holds the blue stack of cars up towards Kaylie.
Kaylie nodded, then said, “It’s really a fairly simple game, as far as I’m aware. Everyone gets dealt five cards, the rest go face down in a stack in the middle. Any matching numbers, you put in front of you, face up, in pairs. On your turn, you pick a card from your hand, pick a person, and ask if they have that number. If they do, they give you that card and you get another turn. If they don’t, they say ‘Go Fish,’ and you take a card from the deck. Then the next person goes. This might just be a variant we learned, but we’ve played by the rule that the game ends when one person runs out of cards, and whoever has the most matches wins. It leads to slightly quicker games.”
“So, then, who would go first?” Malavera asked.
“Typically, either oldest or youngest first. Then it’s either clockwise or counterclockwise, depending on table preference,” Kayden said. “Whenever we play,” he said, nudging Kaylie’s left arm, “we have to flip a coin for who goes first because we’re twins.”
“Let’s do youngest first,” Kaylie said, smiling. “I mean, Kayden and I are, well, both of us are 67 back home, but we’d be about 102 years old if we used Earth years.”
“I’m 51,” Malavera said.
“On Khalara Five, yes, you are. You’re 357 years old on Earth,” Kayden said.
Malavera groaned. “Fine, I’m the eldest, but I’m counting that as a technicality,” he said, shaking both heads. “I still think it should be who feels the oldest.”
“Says the guy who’s older than some countries,” Kaylie quipped with a smirk on her face.
“Tim’s starting then.”, Valentin remarks, setting the game up in the way Kaylie described instead of handing the deck over for her to do it. Strangely enough, the wildly disproportionate claim of age didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. His mind simply went: “Well if they think they’re THAT old, so be it… With all the gender and sexuality stuff it isn’t surprising.”
A set of five cards was dealt to each player, with the remaining 32 cards forming the face-down drawing pile.
“Yeah… 19 does undercut 23.” Tim adds, marveling at what he thought was immense dedication to their roles.
“U got a King?”, he starts, looking up from his own set of cards and towards Kayden. He didn’t know his name, but also didn’t care enough to ask.
Kayden grimaced as he handed over the king he had in his hand.
Kaylie chuckled, then said, “Well, you get to go again.”
Malavera tried to relax, holding his handful of cards in his left hand and resting his right hand on the ground. Being around two strangers was mildly stressful for him, even if he loosely knew one of them from talking before.
Kayden fished around in his pocket and slid a slim, black rounded rectangle out of it, taking a quick scan of his cards and trying to get Nova, his AI assistant, to help him decide who would be best to ask when, or if, he got a turn.
Kaylie spotted this and lightly punched her brother in the shoulder. “Hey, Kayden, we’ve agreed on this on the ship, no AI assistance in card games!” Kaylie said.
Kayden set the smartphone-shaped device down on his right knee and rubbed his shoulder, mere moments before Nova herself materialized as a six-inch tall golden tigress in an elegant dress standing on the screen. Nova put her hands on her hips, looked over at Kaylie, and said, “Oh, I’m just the AI now? What did I do to you to lose the first name basis?”
“Nothing, Nova. Was trying not to freak out our new friends here,” Kaylie said.
Nova spun around on top of the sleek armor-glass screen, spotting Tim and Valentin in the process. “Oh. My apologies. I am Nova, a Class 3 personal assistant to Kayden,” she said, motioning to Kayden as she did so. “Forgive me for my diminutive stature, projecting myself at my preferred size would generate more heat than I can safely dissipate in this atmosphere, and I doubt that I could convince Kayden to assemble his armor frame for my personal use.”
“Yeah, not happening, Nova. You still haven’t apologized for kicking me in the ass the last time,” Kayden replied.
“To be fair, you did deserve it,” Kaylie and Nova said at nearly the same time. Nova followed up with, “See, even your sister agrees with me.”
“Deserve it for what?” Kayden asked.
“Trying to use me to gain an advantage in Go Fish. So, I guess that means when I get the chance next, I owe you another kick in the ass,” Nova said, giving a light laugh before sitting down on the screen. “Don’t mind me, I’ll just watch the game.”
“Got one!”, Tim cheerily shouts, placing his pair of Kings face-up onto the dirt in front of him.
“Need a seven”, he continues, now looking at Malavera.
As Kayden pulled out what looked like a phone, he didn’t really pay much attention to it until Nova appears on the screen. This also grabs the attention of Valentin, who isn’t all that surprised anymore that Nova assumed the shape of another Tigralian, though the digital nature made it far less unnerving than the initial contact with Kaylie was.
“Looks like you have your own, digitized spin-off of Connor, it seems.”, he notes, not really knowing what exactly Nova was other than some glorified form of Siri. “Well hello there.”, he speaks, leaning forward to get an idea of how detailed the projection of her was.
Upon hearing about Kaylie using Nova to cheat Go Fish, Valentin wasn’t exactly impressed, though didn’t say anything about it.
Malavera looked over his cards, then shook his right head. “Go fish,” Malavera said, watching as Tim reached to the pile of cards.
Nova seemed to pause for a split moment to ‘think,’ then responded with, “Cyberlife model RK 800, serial number 313 248 317 - 60. Designation, ‘Connor.’ I believe it is possible we have met, but that information would be on my better half. Sorry, my local storage is a little limited.” When Valentin leaned in to get a better view of her, and said hello, Nova smiled. “If you’d like to see me better, please, just ask. I don’t mind scaling up a little for a short time.”
Kayden chuckled. “If you need to, feel free to pick up Nova’s handheld. It may be a little bit warm, but at least then, you’re not bending over quite so far.”
“And don’t worry, I won’t use that to read your cards. And even if I did, I’d give Kayden the wrong information anyway,” Nova said, before turning momentarily to face Kayden. “Because you know better than to use AI support in games. Seriously, you’re never going to improve if you don’t try,” Nova said, pointing a finger at him.
Kaylie just chuckled as her brother grimaced and pulled his head backwards as if he’d just been scolded by their mother. “Yeah, this is classic Nova. We have to restrict her to her Class 3 mode for games because her Class 7 ship-board AI is a master strategist.”
Nova, not willing to let Kaylie steal the show, cocked her head with a smirk and said, “My other chassis is a starship,” in the same tone of voice one might read a bumper sticker in.
Duskriver Village; about 2 sun
The bed of the Bricksley stayed a complete disaster overnight, getting worse as various needed items were dragged out of it, often overturning items or spilling other boxes and bins in the process.
For the first time since they had started, all five tents were used and the Bricksley remained empty. Jayde and Kaylie’s tent remained shrouded in the translucent purple orb, blocking all sound from leaving their tent, though the two of them could still hear what was going on outside. Rukari slept lightly, on alert even though he was asleep. Kivenaal was exhausted and sleeping heavily, having barely gotten out of his clothes before collapsing on top of the sleeping bag. Kayden occasionally growled in his sleep, albeit quietly, and infrequently enough that it could be mistaken for snoring. Malavera, on the other hand, couldn’t sleep and spent a few long minutes pacing the camp until he eventually got tired enough to go to bed.
At 2 Sun, however, things were different. Malavera was the first out of his tent, followed by Rukari. Kivenaal woke up slowly and got out, sitting on a log and just trying to let his brain get up to speed. Kayden crawled out of his tent and looked over at the truck, half expecting to see Kaylie or Jayde crawl out of it. Instead, the purple bubble dissipated and Jayde could be heard grumbling, “Ow. Kaylie, get off of my arm.”
“Sorry, Jayde,” Kaylie said, getting up and getting dressed, this time in a light tan tank top and denim shorts before crawling out of the tent. Jayde took a few minutes more, wandering out in light brown linen pants and a light tan shirt, not caring that they didn’t exactly match.
“It’s fine, Kaylie,” Jayde said, sitting down and helping Rukari prepare breakfast, mostly by providing a surprising amount of supplies.
“How the hell do you have fresh bacon and eggs in that bag, Jayde?” Kayden asked.
“Standard bag of holding with a stasis enchantment. If it’s fresh when it goes in, it’s fresh when it comes out,” Jayde responded, while Rukari fried the bacon in the pan, transferred it to everyone’s plates, then whipped up some scrambled eggs. Between the bacon, scrambled eggs, and one of Jayde’s loaves of piping-hot fresh bread, the team had a simple but satisfying breakfast.
“Right. We really have got to clean up that damn truck bed,” Malavera said. “It’s a real mess.”
“I could do a basic like-to-like sorting spell. Anything similar ends up in the same spot,” Jayde said.
“As long as you don’t sort everything into ‘junk,’ that should work,” Kayden said, chuckling. He then yowled as Kaylie grabbed Jayde’s staff and hit her brother on the butt with it. “Ow! What was that for?”
“He’s offering to make the job easier and you’re teasing him,” Kaylie replied. She let go of the staff as Jayde grabbed it, walked over to the truck, and focused his energy. Sure enough, things rapidly shuffled around in the bed, sorting by truck parts, weapon parts, ammunition (unfired, primitive, and expended each in three piles), clothing, weapons, and finally, camping supplies. With everything made at least a bit neater, though it would still have to be sorted through later, the truck bed was made a bit more presentable. Jayde scooped up all the spent brass and decided the best he could do with it was to compress it into an ingot, making it somewhat useful and a lot less of a mess. After that, he grabbed up the arrows as Constantin walked up to the truck.
“Good morning… allies.”, he goes, deliberately avoiding names as he simply doesn’t know most of them. He immediately goes straight to the point, as is customary with military-grade efficiency.
“We kept the others safe in that… conflict yesterday. Has been an honor to fight alongside you, despite apparent lack of firepower on my part.”, he speaks in a powerful, but also sincere tone while standing sort-of at attention.
As Constantin mentioned that he thought it was an honor to fight alongside them, standing at attention, it was Rukari who responded first, turning to face Constantin, standing to his full height, pulling his heeled boots together with a quiet click, and snapping both fists up to cover the twin hearts on the left side of his chest with a light thump. His brass tags quietly clinked from the force of the action, before Rukari said in a quiet voice, honed from years of duty, “The honor was mine.”
Jayde looked a bit surprised, knowing that not many people at all would outrank Rukari. However, Jayde quickly recovered and said, “From my perspective, there was no lack of firepower from you. I’ve fought alongside archers. You matched the best I’ve seen for firing speed and surpassed them for accuracy, and I know that isn’t easy.”
Kaylie, on the other hand, went a bit pale and tried to turn to hide her chrome left arm, now marked with a bright golden scar. Jayde, however, saw this and pulled Kaylie closer so she couldn’t hide her arm. He turned to her and again reminded her, “That arm saved your life. Also, in all the time you shared with me, not once have you harmed me with it.”
“Still hate that I killed two Dyre,” Kaylie said. “I thought I was going to knock the first one out. The second one, I didn’t mean to tear his throat out.” Kaylie had tears in her eyes as she buried her face in Jayde’s chest, and Jayde just wrapped an arm over her back to support her, understanding.
“No one sane likes killing,” Kivenaal said, rummaging through the toolbox and putting some of their supplies away.
Malavera, likewise, looked over to Constantin and said, “If anyone was lacking effectiveness last night, it was me. I shot one and knocked the other one out.”
“I’ve never been in a battle before,” Kayden admitted, “and if I never have to face a fight like that again, I’ll be quite happy.”
Initially, Constantin is rather confused by Rukaris reaction, but it soon dawned on him that he was in the Military as well. He stiffens up his posture and executes a textbook salute, albeit “earth-style”. What he wasn’t sure of was Rukaris rank, as him saluting first indicates Constantin being of higher rank than Rukari. The fact that he did not wear uniform or other rank insignia did not help either.
He maintains posture during the time in which Jayde compliments his archery, nodding in acknowledgement once he is done doing so.
Constantin also took note of Kaylie and knew how it feels to be a murderer, even if it was in self-defense.
“You are very much not the only one mentally affected by this.”, he calmly states, taking a step aside and motioning to the remainder of the team sat near the Tangerine Tank, with Tim and Valentin apparently playing a card game of sorts. Though Constantin wasn’t sure as to what the others knew about what Valentin did during the battle.
Rukari gave a polite nod and left his salute first, and as Constantin mentioned to Kaylie that she wasn’t the only one mentally affected by the battle, he spoke up, “We all were in different ways, and all have our ways of handling the aftermath. I have seen many battles in my time, the worst are always the ones up close.”
Kaylie slowly started to relax as Jayde held her, and as she regained her mental strength, she tried to put a brave face on and just get through with this meeting. “Most of us were in the fight, trying to keep everyone safe,” Kaylie said, her voice still a little shaky. “I wasn’t expecting to be in the middle of it.”
Kayden stepped closer to his twin sister and rubbed her natural right shoulder lightly. “None of us expected to be in the middle of that, sis. Look on the bright side, no casualties on our side.”
“Depends on your definition of casualty,” Malavera said. “If you mean deaths or physical injuries, then yeah, no casualties. If, however, you mean everyone got out unharmed, even mentally? No, we have casualties. Kaylie killed two in self defense. Tim stole the Dione and went on a joyride mid-fight. Valentin’s had a rough night behind the Elbrus. Gods only know how fucked up Orlan’s going to be considering he started that mess. Aedan had to face one down as it tried to kill him,” Malavera added. When Kaylie, Kayden, and Rukari stared at him, he sighed. “Two heads, guys. I can look through a thermal scope and still see my surroundings. That and I barely did anything in that fight.”
Constantin knew that it would take a while for some people to truly recover from the fight, though standing there wailing about it after the fact surely ain’t helping.
“Let’s not get caught up in the past and look ahead.”, Constantin tries to motivate the others present.
“I see you even found the time to clean up afterwards. Commendable to stick to your own rules.”, he adds, looking at the bundle of arrows Jayde was holding.
“Cannot say that about myself, recently…”, Constantin continues even further, remembering how he lied to Valentin about having seen worse in the military.
Jayde nodded, then handed Constantin the arrows. “I can’t tell how good they are. I’ve done some archery in the past, but I’m not good at it. Took a few classes a long while back when I got disappointed in archers who couldn’t hit their targets, and learned a whole new respect for the art of archery,” Jayde admitted. “Had an instructor who was left handed. I’m ambidextrous, but learned to shoot left handed.”
Kaylie looked over at Connor, Tim, and Valentin playing cards. “I wonder what game they’re playing,” she said, thinking out loud.
“Considering you cheat at Go Fish,” Kayden said, smirking.
“I do not! Those cards were stuck together and you know it,” Kaylie shot back.
“I know,” Kayden said, chuckling. He knew it had worked, his sister was no longer thinking about the battle.
Malavera shrugged. “I’ve never played cards. Never really had anyone to play any games with, and no one to teach me.”
Kaylie grinned, then grabbed Kayden and Malavera by their hands and practically dragged them over to the trio, with Kayden protesting the whole way that he hardly knew them, didn’t want to scare anyone, and wasn’t dressed enough to play cards.
“Twin Suns, Kay, it’s not like they’re playing strip poker, you big wimp,” Kaylie quipped at her brother. “Sorry about this, Valentin, if he’s scaring you. He’s probably more scared of you than you are of him,” Kaylie said, teasing her brother.
Kayden sighed. “In front of new people, Kaylie? Really?”
Malavera chuckled. “Don’t worry about Kayden, Valentin. He’s big, but, well, he’s Kaylie’s brother, and I know him well.”
Back at the truck, after Constantin had taken the arrows from Jayde, it was Kivenaal and Rukari who both realized they had weapons to clean after last night, and decided the cab of the truck was out-of-the-way enough to start cleaning. Rukari swabbed out the barrel of his murdaira while Kivenaal disassembled his four Colt Peacemakers, grumbling the whole time that he should have brought bigger guns.
Jayde, on the other hand, looked at Constantin and asked, “Do you have any way to check those arrows, or are we just going to have to go into town? Because if you need new ones, well,” Jayde paused for a moment, rummaging in the messenger-bag-sized pouch hanging at his side, then pulled out a bag of coins and handed it to Constantin, “at least now you’ll be able to pay for them. Any extra, you can keep. Best if your team has at least some of the coin of the realm.”
Jayde knew that the bag contained 80 silver Syrkals, the currency used all across Crugandr, and that if they had to buy anything, that would almost certainly be enough. “And don’t worry about repaying me. I’ve got enough that I can afford to give a little bit of coin away. At least this way, I know the coin isn’t going straight into the local tavern for a mug of ale.”
Constantin accepts the bundle of arrows and shuffles through them. The coinage is also accepted and promptly is stored in one of the multitude of pockets of his combat uniform trousers.
“First off, you took more from the field than i shot. Some of those aren’t even mine.”, he explains, discarding three arrows noticeably shorter than the remaining ones. He then goes about the remaining five, taking each one individually and mildly bending it a few times.
“The very bad ones are easy to filter. If you bend them a bit, and they break, they would’ve broken when you shoot them, fucking your bow in the process.” Constantin explains, just as one of the remaining arrows breaks in twain under the load. “See? That one was unsafe, as i call it.”
The remaining four pass the bend-test, which leads him to the next stage of filtering.
“Normally, i’d trial-shoot the remaining ones to see if they still behave as i expect them to. Though it’d take the better part of an hour to test that, so i’ll just see if i can get replacements. They are consumables anyways.”, he continues, mentally flagging all of them as altered, which is his way of saying that the arrow’s characteristics don’t match his expectations anymore.
“Let me get my stuff and then we can go.”, he finally finished as he turns around on his heel to grab both his bow and quiver, together with the 8 remaining arrows stored within.
Jayde nodded as Constantin explained that he’d gathered up more than just Constantin’s arrows. “I didn’t have time to be picky, I just gathered up everything reasonably close,” Jayde mentioned. “Better to have cleaned up too much than to have not done enough.” As Constantin, however, explained how to spot bad arrows, Jayde smiled, glad to learn something new.
When Constantin headed back to the Dione, Jayde stayed near the Bricksley out of respect for Valentin, watching as Constantin got Kaylie to move at least enough that he could get his bow and quiver and not hit Kaylie with the hatch.
As Constantin returns back at the “pickup truck”, he took a few moments to free up both hands. To achieve this, his quiver is slung across his left shoulder, with it resting by his right thigh, just like he did when the Dyre battle happened. The bow, meanwhile, was also parked on the left, but was resting vertivally instead of going diagonally across his chest like the leather strap of his quiver does.
“I’m ready when you are”, Constantin states, now having finished the procedure and having both hands empty.
Jayde retrieved his staff from where he’d left it leaning against the Bricksley, then headed onward down the path to Duskriver Village, being careful across the wooden bridge crossing the river. “It’s slower here than down by Jaduvira, but try not to fall in,” Jayde said. “I can swim well enough to get you out again, but I’d rather keep dry if possible.”
He knew it was only a couple minute walk to get into the village, and knew that the fletcher and bowman were relatively close to the guard-house, which wasn’t far from the wooden wall they’d put up to keep the Dyre out. Almost instinctively, he found himself walking at Constantin’s left side, so that if he had a bad step and fell, he wouldn’t take Constantin down with him.
“Well… my workplace is a ship, so swimming capability is basically mandatory, as are rescue procedures if any seamen were to go overboard.”, Constantin chuckles, following the instruction of taking care to not break the bridge. Granted, he wasn’t overly heavy, but the bridge apparently wasn’t made with sturdiness in mind.
Not long after they cross the bridge, a violent sound, similar to someone breaking a 2x4 in half by jumping onto it, can be heard.
Said 2x4 wasn’t actually a 2x4, but instead Constantin’s bow, which after close to 4 years of near-constant use finally gave way.
As it breaks in half just above the grip-portion of it, splinters are sent away from the bow, most of which flying out back and away from him like tiny wooden pieces of shrapnel. Some, however, make their way into his skin on the back.
The bow’s string releases it’s tension, digging into his chest in the process.
After that, the bow leaves his shoulder entirely out the front, with the lower limb going out sideways and impacting Jayde’s walking stick as a result. It comes to rest in pieces, both limbs now only connected by the string at either end, the middle heavily splintered.
Immediately after, Constantin curly up in pain, the string having done substantially more initial harm than the splintering on the back near his left shoulder blade.
“[Swedish expletive]. Hnnngrgh…”, he groans, being caught completely off-guard by the sudden equipment failure, also curling up and crouching down to ease the pain just a little.
“Ah, a navy sailor, then,” Jayde said. “My apologies for assuming otherwise, I’ve met too many people who can’t swim.”
As Jayde heard the loud snapping crack, followed by the crash against his walking stick, Jayde swore in Valraad. “Skadu vi!” he said, moments before kicking the slightly-displaced end of his walking stick with his right foot, leading to an almost comical half-hopped step to keep his balance. As Constantin curled up in pain, and Jayde saw the broken bow laying on the ground, he put two and two together and realized what happened.
“Are you okay? If you need help getting those splinters out, let me know. I can’t do much for the pain,” Jayde said.
Constantin stays crouched down for the moment to recover from the pain.
A few Civilians roaming about the place look at the events from afar, without saying a word or offering help.
“I’m good… i think…”, he replies as the pain caused by the bow string subsides, though it left a very visible red imprint on his chest and parts of his shoulder. The splinters, though, were more of an issue.
He gets up and tries to reach for that one pesky splinter, managing to touch, but not quite extract it.
Multiple attempts with both arms from different angles prove futile, as his right arm isn’t long enough and his left one not getting there due to poor flexibility.
Not wanting to admit defeat, he keeps trying, but it was almost painfully obvious that he wasn’t getting that one out without outside help.
Jayde saw Constantin struggling with one rather troublesome splinter, then carefully removed it. “Friends do not let friends suffer,” Jayde said as a way of apologizing for not asking first. “If there’s any others you can’t reach, I’ll help,” he added.
As the crowd wandered around, Jayde sighed and shook his head lightly. “And this is why they need heroes,” Jayde muttered to himself, though loud enough that Constantin might be able to hear it, “No one wants to help each other. No one wants to get involved. Then evil takes root and someone has to cut it out.”
3 Likes
Team Shift Happens
(As mentioned before, this was written in collaboration with @Elizipeazie and is split among a couple of posts because we shattered the 32k limit)
Duskriver Village, 2-and-10 Sun
The splinter removal was as successful as it was painful, ending in him flinching hard when the splinter made it’s way back out of his skin. Very minimal bleeding follows it out of the puncture wound.
The other part of what Jayde said was drowned out by Constantin’s focus on dealing with the pain both up front and in back. Well… the chest was more along the lines of heavily irritated than truly in pain, but the splinter would will linger for a while.
“Thank you”, he simply goes, collecting himself a bit before picking up the now-broken bow.
“[Swedish Expletive]. What a waste of money… Thought it’d do a bit longer than that.”, he grumbles. The bow may have seen heavy use, but he did not expect it to fail this early in it’s service life, let alone catastrophically.
“Well let’s hope the local bowyer has better stuff…”, he continues, visibly annoyed at the fact that his bow that set him back a hefty four-digit sum went bust.
“My apologies for the pain,” Jayde said, after Constantin thanked him. “As for wasted money, I would think otherwise. Given the situation, I’d guess at some point your bow took a good hit, probably while strung. At least, if there is one good thing from this, it’s that it broke now and not after we got back to camp with new arrows.”
When Constantin mentioned that he hoped the local bowyer has better supplies, Jayde smiled. “There are two here in town who compete with each other regularly to see who makes better bows. I have one for… Well, my other form,” Jayde said, pulling the unstrung bow out of his bag of holding to show Constantin, “made by Kiyaru, here in Duskriver Village, as a gift from Queen Nuwala of Miravall.” He then put the large bow away and said, “If I had to trust anyone to make a really high-quality bow, it would be Kiyaru Lisven-Endavi. She’s… She’s a Valraadi, like Rukari,” Jayde said.
He sighed, then said, “Long story short, she’s one of their famous soldiers. Fought in the Grundzahiri, Marinzahiri, even the Adazahiri. Never made Vilzagrund or Vilzamarin, and became Vilada of the Adazahiri. Lord of the Sky, roughly. A flight instructor. She looks a bit torn up from her war wounds, but that hasn’t stopped her.”
As they walked into the bowyer’s shop, Kiyaru looked up at them, clearly blind in her right eye and missing the ring finger and little finger on her left hand. “Vuri ada ahd nevuri marin, Jayde. To your friend, calm seas and strong wind,” Kiyaru said. Her light brown fur was, unlike Rukari or Kivenaal, completely lacking in stripes, and despite being female, she was still physically quite strong. Likewise, it appeared that she was missing half of her tail, and walked with a noticeable limp. “What do the two of you need?” she asked.
“Leaving it in would’ve been worse, especially with it possibly getting infected…”, Constantin counters. “I mean it going while drawn to length would’ve done much more harm, i guess… And it going now already hurt like… a lot.”
As Jayde pulls his bow out of the bag of holding, Constantin is visibly confused: “How the fuck did you get that to fit in there? Is that a takedown bow?”
He looks at that bag for a bit, then returns to Jayde himself with his eyes, as he explains something about a master bowyer in the village.
“It’s not like i have a lot of choice if i want to retain some defensive ability.”, Constantin says, shrugging, and sets off further into town.
Upon entering, Constantin took a look around the small shop they found themselves in. He knew that Kiyaru was part of the military, but not knowing their procedures or her rank, he decides to treat her as Civilian for the time being.
“Greetings. As for what i need… Well… some new equipment, so to speak. My current bow has blown itself into pieces and it needs replacing.”, Constantin explains, calmly, placing the broken bow onto the counter.
“I don’t know your procedure regarding manufacturing them, so if you need any info, measurements or something like that, go ahead.”
Jayde smiled and showed Constantin the bag. “No, the bag is… There is magic in it. Somewhat a bit like the portal, there’s more space in here than you might think,” Jayde answered, simplifying things a bit. “It cost me a fair amount to get it.”
Kiyaru nodded. “I can see the stripe it’s left on you,” she said, after Constantin set his broken bow on the counter. With great care and respect, she removed the string from one end of the broken bow and aligned the broken halves together to get a rough idea of what she’d be working with.
“Good news is, you’re within one of my favorite patterns,” she said. “So, what exactly do you need? While you tell me that, hold this,” she said, handing Constantin a short stick, “in the hand you hold your bow with, and pull an arrow back. If you have to use an actual arrow, I don’t mind. I just need to know your draw.” As Constantin held the stick in his right hand and drew an arrow back with his left, Kiyaru smiled.
“What are the odds of three left-handed archers in one room?” Kiyaru said with a smile. “Do you know your draw weight? I’ve dealt with a few heroes in the past, I know a Fist is about one of your kilograms.”
She looked over at Jayde and raised an eyebrow. “You need anything?” she asked as well.
Jayde sighed. “I won’t take up your time. I get the feeling you’re going to need it.”
Kiyaru smirked. “I see. Well, I know you have a bow and arrows for it, both for your other form. I’ve had this one,” she said, grabbing one made for Jayde’s normal form, “waiting here for the last two weeks for you.” She set the bow on the counter with a quiver of sturdy black arrows. Jayde paid for the bow and his arrows, placing both into his bag, having at least loosely explained it to Constantin.
“Now, on account of you being here with Jayde,” Kiyaru said, looking over at Constantin, “I’m not going to charge you as much as I would most others who show up here.”
The excuse of “magic” wasn’t exactly satisfactory to him, though given more pressing problems at hand, he saw no real reason to dig further.
“Had it slung across my shoulder when it went bust. Hurts like high hell is what i’m gonna tell you…”, Constantin remarks, looking at Kiyaru as she aligns the two halves to vaguely form a complete bow.
He accepts the stick and proceeds to draw an imaginary arrow, taking great care to emulate his form as closely as possible as if actually drawing to weight. It definitly wasn’t easy to maintain posture, with the lack of resistance the bow usually would provide. Once the stick was drawn to what he felt was full length, he retains the pose, starting at some wall off to the side as if aiming at it.
Constantin’s positioning gave a crystal clear view at his front, with the stick facing left, from Kiyaru’s perspective.
“If you need the numbers, i’m drawing 100 pounds to 34 inches.”, Constantin says, hoping that the raw values provided some help to Kiyaru. Even though she said something about metric, Constantin only really knew the accurate weight in pounds. “Last measured a year ago when having this bow made.”, he adds, briefly glancing at the counter before re-focusing on the non-existant target until other instructions were issued.
The mentioning of not being charged as much is acknowledged with a nod, but not really of use for him since he’s not paying out of his own pocket anyway.
Kiyaru nodded slightly, taking a measurement with a basic string, setting that down, and saying, “You may relax.”
“So, you need two bows of equal nature, both around 100 pounds as close as I can manage, with a 34 inch draw by your reckoning,” Kiyaru said. “That’s about 45-and-a-half kilograms, which is a common hunting draw for my kind. Your draw is,” Kiyaru picked up the string and checked it against herself, “remarkably close to mine, actually. I will get started once both of you leave, and if all goes well, I will be done by 8 Sun. I’ll send your measurement to a friend of mine to get your arrows made so that I can focus on the bows. May you always walk with Yawli’s favor,” she said, before turning to look for two identical pieces of wood.
Constantin releases the imaginary draw, in proper form as soon as he’s instructed to do so, handing back the stick to Kiyaru. He simply nods, confirming the order for two identical flatbows and takes his broken one back off the table.
“I’ll keep that one as a sort of service trophy.”, he states, before following Jayde out of the shop.
Jayde led Constantin out of the shop and back toward the camp, mentioning, “She’s the one who taught me archery. I’d been having a lot of fights alongside archers where I seemed to be doing far more than they were, and rather than blindly assume that they were terrible, I tried it for myself. Not as easy as they make it look, and I know that now,” Jayde said.
“I don’t know how well you are shooting, but i do appreciate the respect for the sport. Shooting a bow in itself isn’t that hard. But being accurate is.”, Constantin explains, mildly smiling at the pleasant surprise being brought up with Jaydes respect for archery.
“By the way,” Jayde mentioned as they walked onto the bridge, “I think Rukari honored you. I don’t know your military rank, but I saw your uniform in Nevada. The only one who can give Rukari orders is the Emperor or Empress themself, as they would call them, the Vilzahir.” Before he could say more, however, there was a quiet ominous creak mere moments before Jayde took another step, releasing the tension stored in the loose plank and tipping Constantin sideways into the river. Jayde looked as he heard a heavy splash.
Constantin couldn’t even react in time, as the plank gave way below him, on his currently weighted foot, no less. As a result, he slips into the gap formed by the now-gone plank, the loose combat uniform pants getting caught on the adjacent one, friction burning his right shin in the process. The other end of the plank is sent sky high, coming around to impact Constantin’s left shoulder, pushing him into the river.
“Shit,” Jayde said, making sure to avoid the same plank as he looked for Constantin in the water.
After having taken the plunge, he finds his way to shore quickly and climbs up the foot-an-a-half of banking onto dry land, soaking wet all over, including his boots being filled to the ridge with water. All that while throwing Swedish Expletives about the place in annoyance.
His face at that point is best-described as the “grumpy-cat-meme”, as he takes off his boots and socks, resorting to bare-footed walking for the time being.
Jayde grimaced as Constantin crawled out of the river. “I am sorry that happened,” Jayde said, his tail lower than usual. “That was my fault.”
“How? Seems like i found the ominous plank you mentioned…”, he replies, totally oblivious to the fact that Jayde was securing him by having stepped onto the other end of that plank first.
He then realizes that his broken bow and most of his arrows have gone missing.
“Hold on… gotta at least save my trophy…”, he remarks, hopping back in to retrieve the two individual pieces, slowly being carries away by the current.
Upon returning, he collects his soaked pair of boots, and shakes his head to indicate readiness to continue.
“It’s actually rather refreshing, given the scorching heat out here…”, Constantin comments, trying to make the best of the extraordinarily bad luck he’s been having today.
Jayde sighed. “I was standing on the other side of it. I knew there was a bad plank, I didn’t know which one, and, well,” Jayde looked back at the mess they’d made of the bridge, now with a completely missing plank, “when I stepped off of it, it came up.”
When Constantin had retrieved his broken bow from the river and returned, Jayde shrugged lightly at Constantin’s comment regarding the dunk in the river having been at least somewhat refreshing.
“You warned me… or… us. And it happened.”, Constantin shrugs.
“Either way, has been pleasant. See ya!”
As they approached the camp, Jayde left Constantin’s side so he wouldn’t disturb the game in progress.
Constantin walks over to the back of the Dione, boots and broken bow in his arms and still soaking wet to the point of leaving a very wet trail everywhere he goes.
Meanwhile, at the Duskriver Village Campsite, 2-and-10 Sun
Kayden chuckled. “If you need to, feel free to pick up Nova’s handheld. It may be a little bit warm, but at least then, you’re not bending over quite so far.”
“And don’t worry, I won’t use that to read your cards. And even if I did, I’d give Kayden the wrong information anyway,” Nova said, before turning momentarily to face Kayden. “Because you know better than to use AI support in games. Seriously, you’re never going to improve if you don’t try,” Nova said, pointing a finger at him.
Kaylie just chuckled as her brother grimaced and pulled his head backwards as if he’d just been scolded by their mother. “Yeah, this is classic Nova. We have to restrict her to her Class 3 mode for games because her Class 7 ship-board AI is a master strategist.”
Nova, not willing to let Kaylie steal the show, cocked her head with a smirk and said, “My other chassis is a starship,” in the same tone of voice one might read a bumper sticker in.
Connor, who wasn’t doing much up to this point other than silently progressing his language pack for the local tongue via the supplied ring, was now prompted by Nova’s incorrect declaration of him.
“As far as i am aware, we have not. It seems like have encountered a later copy of myself.”, Connor replied.
Both Valentin and Tim turn around to look up at Connor standing a few feet outside the little play-game circle. Neither one said anything, but their faces told “you know each other?”
They quickly return to the game, when Valentin realizes that it’s his turn.
“Tim, you have a four?”, he asks, looking over at him.
“Nah…”
“Damn…”
Valentin reaches forward to draw a card. The offer of holding Nova to get a closer look was known, but is discarded without much of a reaction as he was doing his turn. Even then, he wouldn’t want to break it somehow.
“Yeah i’m good, thanks.” Valentin politely declines the offer, having satiated his initial curiosity for the time being.
“Oh. My apologies, then, Connor,” Nova said. “My local storage says there was an interaction between -60 and my other half that ran for 300 milliseconds. But I don’t have a transcript of the data, so I don’t know what they were talking about.”
Kayden, realizing it was his turn, turned to Valentin and asked, “You wouldn’t happen to have a Queen, would you?”
Malavera looked at his cards and tried to hide a look of relief that Kayden hadn’t asked him that.
Kaylie looked at Nova, then said, “You better not be giving Kayden answers.”
“I’m not!” Nova said defensively. The only answer I’m giving him is this," she said, before flipping Kayden the bird.
“Great. Now even my own AI is giving me attitude,” Kayden said, shaking his head.
“Well, you were the one who tried to involve her in a game she wasn’t invited to play,” Malavera said. “And it’s not like she can hold up a set of cards on her own.”
“Excuse me?” Nova said. “I’ll have you know,” she said, stepping off of the screen and mimicking a fall under gravity from Kayden’s knee to the dirt, pushing tall grass out of her way, “that I am perfectly capable of interacting with something as light as these playing cards.” She walked up to the stacked deck and, although it seemed to take Nova some significant effort, slid the top card half a centimeter sideways.
“Nova, the last time you did something like that at this size, you overheated your hard-light generator. Leave the deck alone,” Kaylie said.
Nova, on the other hand, vanished for a split second, only to reappear while lifting the whole deck of cards. Two seconds later, she said, “Oops,” just before she vanished again, dropping the deck of cards neatly where she’d picked them up, not even really scattering them.
Kayden looked down and grimaced, setting Nova’s handheld on the dirt instead. “She’ll be back in a few seconds,” Kayden said. “Though she won’t be able to physically interact with anything for another hour.”
“I’m still here!” Nova said, appearing on the screen in 2D this time.
“For a Class 3 AI, you do some really foolish things sometimes, Nova,” Kaylie said.
Connor just looks at Nova, mildly befuddled. At some point, he returns to his in-progress dictionary, silently.
Valentin simply nods and hands over a Queen of Spades. The snappy nature of Nova wasn’t exactly to Valentin’s liking, but the ensuing hilarity made him chuckle a bit anyway. Tim also is getting a good, genuine laugh out of Nova’s trashtalking.
“Never said she wasn’t invited. I just didn’t know Nova being a thing in the firs place.”, Valentin remarks, watching Nova move… attempt to move the cards in a state between confusion and interest.
“Still your turn.” Tim remarks toward Kayden, also intrigued by Nova’s capabilities.
Kayden smiled and matched the Queen of Spades with the Queen of Hearts, then looked to Kaylie. “Got any 8’s?”
“Go fish,” Kaylie said with a cheery smirk.
Kayden groaned and grabbed a card. “Two steps forward, one step back,” he said.
Kaylie looked over at Malavera and asked, “So, do you have any Queens?”
“How on Earth did you- Never mind,” Malavera said, handing over the Queen of Clubs to match with Kaylie’s Queen of Diamonds.
“It was all over your face, Mal, when Kayden asked Valentin,” Kaylie said. She looked over at Tim and asked him, “Got any 7’s?”
Nova, by this time, had cooled off enough from her little trick to show back up on top of her screen. “Well, that was embarrassing. Squished by a deck of cards,” she said.
Both Valentin and Tim just watch the game unfold, not really saying much as either of them are trying to figure out suitable strategies for winning.
After being asked, Tim groans mildly and hands over his 7.
By this time, Nova had reappeared, with Valentin smirking at the return of the Karma-Cannon to bite her in the… charging port.
Kaylie smiled, then looked to her brother again after putting the pair of sevens down on the table. “Got any twos?” she asked.
“Go fish,” Kayden said, grinning at Kaylie’s mock pout as she grabbed another card.
Malavera looked over at Kaylie and asked, “Any aces?”
“Go fish,” Kaylie said, chuckling.
Malavera reached for the deck, trying to be careful only to take the top card without scattering cards everywhere, and managing to do so with only minimal chaos caused to the deck. “Sorry, grabbing small things with these hands isn’t easy.”
Kaylie gave a smirk as she looked over at Malavera.
“Don’t you say it, Kaylie,” Malavera said, causing Kaylie to burst out laughing.
Tim took the honor upon himself to crack a cheap joke.
“That’s what she said.”, he exclaims, grinning ear to ear, before returning to the game.
“Need a three.”, he demands from Kaylie.
Valentin’s lack of humour may be near-bottomless, but high-school quality dick jokes couldn’t miss him. He starts laughing and calms down rather quickly, though a latent, occcasional chuckle escapes him every once in a while.
Malavera sighed and covered his right muzzle with his right hand.
Kaylie shrugged, handing the three over to Tim, still smirking at Malavera.
Kayden was almost bent double, still trying to recover from the unexpected dick joke. “Glad you did that,” Kayden said, trying to catch his breath. “If I did, I still have to live with him in the truck.”
Nova sat there on top of the screen, amused. “I have to admit, I’m trying to… Oh! Right. Got it. Physical joke,” Nova said, suddenly figuring out why everyone had gotten a good laugh.
Tim simply places the pair of threes down onto the ground, proudly smirking about having produced genuine laughter in most of the team.
“Gib Jack!”, he orders to Valentin, who is simply shaking his head, after which Tim draws a card from the pile.
“I’ll take a ten.”, he says, but it’s not exactly clear as to who he is referring to, as his massive hairdo makes it hard to see which player he is looking at.
“From which one of us?” Kaylie asked, smirking.
Valentin was startled by the question, having forgotten about his hairdo obstructing the view, as he also hid his cars behind the curtain of blonde hair.
“Err… Kaylie?”, he stumbled, opening the blinds, so to speak.
“Should really get a haircut… or at least some bands to tie it down. Isn’t the first time now, is it?”, Tim pokes at Valentin, who doesn’t take too kindly to this as he stares him down as best he can, letting off very quickly after realizing that Tim is right… Tying it up to a massive ponytail would probably help.
“Ah, damn. Yeah, I’ve got a ten,” she said, pulling the card out and handing it to Valentin.
When Tim poked at Valentin’s wild hair, Kaylie remembered she often kept a couple of hair ties around for the purposes of carrying tools strapped to her left arm. She set her cards face down on the grass, then popped one of the covers off of her left arm. “Damn. Left my hair ties in the Bricksley,” Kaylie said, completely uncaring that the mechanical internals of her left arm could be seen. “I normally keep a couple here to hold onto wrenches when I’ve gotta climb to fix things,” she said, before clipping the cover back in place.
Nova, meanwhile, decided to poke fun and said, “Kaylie, I know you’re not a robot, but it is considered rude to have your parts showing. It’s as bad as being naked.”
Kaylie groaned. “Low hanging fruit, Nova.”
When Constantin walked over, Kayden raised an eyebrow at the amount of water dripping from him. “Out of curiosity, how was the water?” he asked, genuinely curious. “Considering taking a swim myself to get out of this heat.”
Valentin casually chucks the other ten out in front of him, before taking Kaylie’s ten and setting it alongside the previous one.
When Nova jumped onto the NSFW-joke-bandwagon, both Valentin and Tim were surprised by her behavior once again.
“Oh snap!”, Tim exclaims, as Valentin collects himself again to address Kaylies offer.
“Thanks. Maybe we have some lying about in our car. If need be, a reuseable zip-tie will do as a stop-gap.”, Valentin explains. The zip-tie trick he adopted when starting work on bicycles, as his hair had a habit of tangling up in the intricate shifting mechanisms.
“Tim. U got a six?”, he asks, getting denied quickly, prompting to draw a card, ending his turn.
“Unintentional, but rather pleasantly refreshing.”, Constantin calmly replies to the question regarding water quality, plonking down the boots and bow onto the Dione’s roof. “Though i would scout the riverbed first. May be rather shallow in places…”
Kayden looked at his cards and smirked, remembering someone at the table had an ace, but he couldn’t remember who, thanks to the perfectly-timed dirty joke. Was it Mal or was it Val? he thought. He looked to Valentin and asked, “You got an ace?”
Valentin shook his head and Kayden sighed. Tim smirked in response as the turn passed to Kaylie.
Kaylie gave a polite smile, then said, “Tim, I know you have a Jack. May I have it, please?”
Tim’s smirk evaporated as fast as water in the hot desert sun as he handed over the jack, watching as Kaylie put it in her pile. Then Kaylie looked back at him with one card left in her chrome hand. “Got a two?” she asked.
Tim reluctantly handed over the card. Kaylie added it to her collection, then said, “Thank you, everyone. Good game,” before politely cleaning up her cards and adding them back to the deck. Likewise, Malavera placed his handful of cards on the deck, and Kayden straightened up his one match, added it to the cards in his hand, and placed them in the deck.
“That was surprisingly fun,” Malavera admitted.
Kayden chuckled. “You did alright for it being your first time, Mal.”
Malavera groaned and shook both heads while Kaylie chuckled.
Soon after, the three of them got up, with Kaylie heading over to Jayde, Malavera returning to the Bricksley to at least attempt to make sense of the now-organized chaos it was in, and Kayden heading straight for the river in his light-gray shorts, planning on getting a good relaxing swim in.
3 Likes
That is one hell of an essay
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RK Series Racing; Stage 3 Camp; Part 2
this post is in direct continuation of the massive novel from earlier, one again partly written with @madrias
@Knugcab: if you want to do some interaction regarding Constantin, i’d appreciate you telling me ahead of time, as some substantial plot-planning is currently ongoing behind the scenes
As the bigger gaming circle cleared up, Constantin had to explain himself as to why he was wet and also how he got that stripe running down his chest, prompting mild amusement for the water dunking and condolences for the destroyed bow.
The broken-trunk situation was also cleared up peacefully, with little blame being placed on anyone due to the nature in which it broke.
After cleaning the resulting mess up, both Tim and Valentin returned to their more complex card games and spent the better part of the afternoon doing so. Constantin, after taking a crisp swim in the local river, took it upon himself to start work on a beach-body tan on the hood of the Dione, both to kill time and to give his clothing a chance to dry off as he switches to knee-long shorts for the duration of his sunbathing.
8 Sun, Duskriver Village Campsite
Jayde gave a groan as he got up and onto his feet, grabbing his staff and walking over toward the Dione, where he could see Constantin was sprawled out across the hood of the Tangerine Tank, clearly soaking in the sun in his shorts. Jayde stepped up close, making an attempt to not block the shade, stuck the end of his staff into the dirt to hold it, then lightly knocked on the hood with the back of a knuckle. “It’s 8 Sun,” Jayde said, holding his pocket watch in his left hand. “I know you could probably find the way, but at least this way, if anything ended up more expensive than expected, I’ll help cover it.”
As Jayde knocked onto the hood, Constantin rolled his head over and opened his eyes, looking at Jayde.
“Uhhhhm… Sure… lemme see if my clothing is dry.”, he replies in his semi-awake state as he gets up to check on his combat uniform bottoms and boots on the roof. After spending the better part of the entire day there, both of them were bone-dry.
He opens the passenger side rear door as a sort of cover and goes about changing into his usual uniform within less than two minutes. After that, the shorts are chucked onto his backpack in the back and the door is closed.
“Time to see what she’s capable of.”, Constantin remarks, not knowing how well the bow’s turned out.
Jayde nodded, waiting patiently as Constantin changed over to his now-dry uniform pants and boots, tossed his shorts into the car, and got ready to go. Once Constantin was ready and had said, “Time to see what she’s capable of,” Jayde gave a light nod and started walking toward the village.
As they got to the bridge, Jayde stepped carefully around the newly-formed hole in the bridge, shaking his head. “I’m going to let their sentries know that someone’s going to have to fix that,” Jayde mentioned to Constantin.
“Better fix that before i end up in the river again…”, Constantin commented, not knowing Jayde had taken the plunge twice already. As they continued, he pondered as to how he could be accurately telling time here.
“Do you have a watch of sorts? I can’t really make sense of the clock-tower bell pattern here…”, Constantin inquired, unsure on if that was appropriate to ask.
“I’ve taken that swim a couple of times myself. Really quite fun in the spring-time. That river gets surprisingly cold for a land that never gets snow,” Jayde mentioned. “And I’ll make sure they know about it, because if someone finds that in the middle of the night, that could break an ankle.”
When Constantin asked about a watch, however, Jayde nodded. “Actually, I do. Hold on a moment,” he said, reaching into his pocket and then handing Constantin the slightly-larger-than-Earth-standard pocket watch. “I have my good one in my robe, that one’s my spare.” Jayde admitted. “A little unusual compared to an Aetheriian clock because mine only has one dial, stamped with both the hours and the minutes. Most of our clocks and watches have two dials, one for the hours, one for the minutes. Top half is Sun time, bottom half is Moon time. I needed to know whether it was still day or night after spending hours in a library, so the watches are a little unusual,” Jayde said. “You can keep that one. If I find I need another one, I’ll just pay a watchmaker later on.”
As they walked into town, Jayde looked up toward the sentry on duty. “Hey! Sorry to trouble you,” he called out, raising his voice just enough to make sure he’d be heard, “but pass it on that someone has to go out there and fix the bridge.”
“You fall in again, Jayde?” the man called back down.
“No, my friend here did. Now there’s a great big hole in the bridge. I don’t want to see someone getting hurt because they stepped in it,” Jayde said.
“I’ll get the word out and get that fixed.”
As they got closer to Kiyaru’s store, Jayde sighed and shook his head. “Some people,” he said to Constantin. “You’d think after I fell in the second time, they’d have gotten that fixed.”
“I’m frankly not surprised, to be honest”, Constantin replies, looking at the rather decrepit state the bridge was in.
He then accepts the watch, studying it carefully and trying to make sense of the 10-10 day-night cycle.
After pocketing it and heading into town a bit further, Jayde mentioned the need for maintenance on the bridge to the local town guard.
“Yes i did… and that nobody-getting-hurt ship has sailed…”, he speaks in a heightened voice to cover the distance between himself and the guard, as he pulls up his right trouser leg, revealing a reddish area on his right shin created by a friction burn on his pants.
“Nothing serious, though.”, he adds, letting the cloth settle back down.
As they headed further in, Constantin nodded at the apparent disappointment of Jayde regarding Duskriver’s maintenance standards.
Jayde opened the door to Kiyaru’s store and stepped inside. As Constantin followed Jayde in, Kiyaru smiled.
“I’ll admit, it wasn’t an easy task you gave me, but I did get two matched bows made,” Kiyaru said, “and the fletcher came through with the arrows. Now, normally this would cost you 115 silver Syrkals, but… I can see you’re friends with Jayde, so I’m only going to ask for 64.”
Jayde watched as Constantin fished out the pouch of coins and started counting out the unfamiliar currency, studying each coin before setting it down. Kiyaru thought for a moment, then asked, “One moment. Were you the archer I’ve been hearing about from the battle against the Dyre the other night?”
“If by the other night, you mean yesterday, then yes. Yes i am.”, Constantin confirms, having been interrupted in the counting process.
He then is starting over, sorting the coins by value and counting out 64 silver Syrkals, leaving the remaining 14 in a pile near Jayde.
He then grabs one of the two bows and studies it.
That bow was a, by modern earth-standards, rather simple Flatbow made from maple wood.
It was adjusted in length to Constantin’s height and featured a near-black color due to weatherproofing measures as well as a well-secured, thinly-layered black leather grip. The arrows didn’t look like anything special, being a typical shade of brown with ordinary broadheads and simple fletching on the back.
The other one was eerily similar, the only true differences by sight being the details on the wood used and minor variances in the way the grip was wrapped.
Kiyaru nodded. “Then in that case, I won’t charge you for those bows. Knowing that you took down four of those wolves is payment enough,” she said. “Lost the sight in my right eye and got these scars on my face from one of them.”
As Constantin studied the bow, Jayde waited patiently off to one side, understanding that this could take some time. He did, however, gather all the coins back up into a pile, put them back in the pouch, and kept it in his hand to give back to Constantin later.
“I made those in Vyrzadoburi style,” Kiyaru explained. “Relatively plain, darkly colored for stealth as well as weather-proofed enough to be used onboard an ocean-going ship, should you need to. Very similar to the ones I used to make for our special forces. Lighter on the draw, though, as you requested.”
“Yeah, four kills. Failed to make the fifth one stick…”, he comments, before returning to inspecting the work done.
“Well… they are simpler very traditional for what i usually shoot.”, Constantin remarks, coming from a modern, laminated composite longbow with a sculpted wooden grip area.
“It will certainly be a new experience. Thank you and have a nice day.”
He deliberately doesn’t test-draw the bows in the shop as doing so without an arrow risks damage if tension is suddenly released. With an arrow, it becomes a loaded firearm in a rather tight space.
As such, he simply picks up the bundle of arrows, the two bows and the respective strings and motions to Jayde that he’s ready to head back.
“Considering I’ve seen some of my fellow soldiers fail to kill one Dyre, let alone four,” Kiyaru said, “failing to kill a fifth is hardly a problem. From what I’ve heard, the forest will be a safer place once the wolves settle back down,” Kiyaru said.
As Constantin mentioned they were simpler and traditional compared to what he usually used, Kiyaru smiled. “I saw your bow when you brought it in, even damaged as it was. If I’d had more time, I would have loved to try to match that carved grip, but that, I fear, would have taken me two or three times as long with the tools I have here. Back home in Galren’s Height, I would still have only managed one in the time I had,” she admitted.
As he thanked her and wished her a nice day, Kiyaru replied, “You have a good day as well.”
Jayde nodded as Constantin gathered up his arrows, the bows, and the bow-strings, then motioned to him that he was ready to return to camp. Jayde walked alongside Constantin up to the bridge, which now had a new, significantly-less-weathered plank of wood where the old broken one had been. “At least it’s fixed now,” Jayde said, though he still prodded it with his staff before he stepped completely over it, not trusting it after two falls himself and dumping a friend in the river. “It seems solid enough, but I’m not trusting it,” Jayde admitted.
As they walked back into camp, Jayde again left Constantin to return to his team. He looked into the truck to see that Kivenaal and Rukari had, at some point, finished cleaning their weapons and nodded off in the front and back bench seats respectively, with Kivenaal’s knee being perilously close to the horn switch.
Constantin also returned to the Dione, new equipment in tow, having hobbled over the newly repaired plank in a similar level of distrust.
Between the team members, Valentin and Tim showed some curious interest into what he brought along, taking a look at one bow each. With both not knowing much on archery, they quickly hand back the two bows, allowing Constantin to store them in the trunk for the time being.
A meal is then prepared with some casual, largely irrelevant banter accompanying their feast on some MRE’s Constantin took along for the trip.
The rest of the evening was nothing out of the ordinary, with nothing truly of note happening until the one tent is pitched and they head into their sleeping quarters.
2 Likes
Nah, I think any interaction is far away, if it will happen at all…
3 Likes
Team Mravolinski-Chitco
Team info: 2022 Shitbox Rally - Out of This World! (Stage 3) - #30 by MrdjaNikolen
Reply to last part
Camp of Duskwater Village
We were visibly disturbed by these happenings: As it turns out, being attacked by group of very big and strong creatures isnt for faint of heart.
Only member of our group that was happy about battling was Chicota, seeing that he was made to enjoy fighting, partially bcos…uhm…thats his purpose.
To be more precise, he is supposed to protect weaker members of whatever group he is in from bad guys. Fact he enjoys said process is just a bonus.
Even so
-This was good practice no doubt, but…i must agree with decision of hosts regarding our movement.
I really dont think we would be able to keep those all night and even if we did, not sure how we would continue with rally next day.
Mrdja:
-Sure Chicota. This was scary experience, but we had enough able fighters in this group to keep everything under relative control.
Pi:
-I shall inform you that my injuries seem kinda bad. Unlike you Mrdja, i fought bravely.
Mrdja:
-Word you are looking for is “stupidly”, Pi. We have told you already.
Chicota:
-I have plan on going to whatever we are supposed to be.
Then we shall plan according to that
Drive was uneventful, save for us being passed by Freeway Star that more and more seemed like a proper shitbox, still running that distinct pink paint
Mrdja had genuinely wondered:
-What would my cousin think of Marie?
(Cousin also happens to be named in same-ish fashion. Few IRL days ago i had actually read out loud some funny stuff that happened to Hillbillies to said cousins.
Them being 9 and 7 prompted me translating to both Serbian and…more child-friendly language,
but they were amused nonetheless, answering hypothetical question from above.
Rollers were only team introduced to them btw)
-Rukari said we are going towards village
-Perfect, we shall use that fact to our advantage.
For the first time during journey, we had no issues during drive, which resulted in our car finishing 5th on this stage.
We were happy about that, well atleast until fatigue had taken its final toll and we went to sleep.
Since both phones in our group show some Earth-compliant times, we couldnt have properly judged when we woke up.
Still, crisis of getting up too late for start settled in…until we looked around tad bit better and saw others both present and unpacked
Klimentol, Pi and Chicota decided to go to said village not much after.
Chicota soon decided to go his own way and entered some store hoping that item he wants would be sold.
On other side of counter was some local, obviously not in good mood and even more obviously drunk.
-I would like to buy biggest sledgehammer you have…providing you do sell sledgehammers ofc.
-YOU MOCK MY STORE!!! We have EVERYTHING!!!
-Havent meant for that to be interpreted that way, but could understand: you dont seem to be in most sober state.
-And now you brand me as drunk. Gonna break you like a stick.
-Thats not how customer should be treated.
-THATS IT. U gonna feel my fist on ya face bud.
Counter was jumped over and punches were thrown. This really became a proper fight, attracting attention of some young female that had entered the shop.
Interestingly, she entered this space from behind the counter, indicating that she is definitely not the next customer.
Over the sound of punches:
-DAD!!! How many times we told you to stop drinking so much and attacking people.
-Im protecting my honour here, sweetheart.
-Ye…right, dad.
-Honour? Bro, i just wanted to buy really big sledgehammer.
-Dont you call me “bro”. Dont deserve such honour in any way.
-Then im gonna continue by talking with young lady. She seems more helpful…
-If you say one word to my daughter, consider yourself thrown from this store.
-Oh, right…dude, i already have significant other.
Not interested in wifes, daughters etc in that kind of way.
-DUDE…do i look like a “dude” to you? Everything you say just pisses me off.
-Forget it, im prob gonna leave this store and find good sledgehammer somewhere else.
Daughter started crying, prompting dad to stop punching and reconsider situation.
-Look what you did to my daughter. Now she is crying bcos of you.
-Hmm, i have feeling that she just doesnt want to lose potential customer…again.
-Why would she have customers?
-Khm khm, i feel she may know how to run the store when you arent around. Just a guess, that one.
Mercifully, fight calmed down by this point.
Chicota took a chance
-Now, i may want to get really big sledgehammer
-Oh ye, forgot about that possibility, that she can run a store herself. I have some idea…
-Oh no. You dont plan on going to bar and getting more drunk, dont you? Im gonna tell mom.
-Dont care
-Can you wait on me to finish buying sledgehammer? I would also appreciate having some better drink than piss-poor beer i have avaiable at my camp.
(Confused looks by other two)
I would say 9kg one would be sufficient.
As already covered by Madrias in his last post (well, as of writing this one atleast) unit of measurement used in Crugandr called “Fist” is similar to our kilogram.
However, unlike Kiyaru, these two werent aware of this little fact and tbh Chicota was also confused by mention of fist as mass measurement.
This was solved by Chicotas ability to accurately determine the mass of hammer head they gave him for scaling.
It weighted half a kilogram or 1.1 lbs.
Based on that, it was determined that Chicota is looking for 18 times heavier tool.
-Oh, before we go…If certain duo composed of large dog and some human-based centaur stroll around looking for Chicota, direct them towards favourite place of your dad.
-Large dog…(shivers)…you are friend with some Dyre?
-Not really, this guy is of much smaller stature and, ya know, actual dog.
Weighs 11.11111111 times more than this sledgehammer i got and is of equal height as me when propping on rear legs.
With that cleared up, Chicota and man went into a bar.
Klimentol and Pi were going for supplies.
Locals were curious about Pi’s scars, most of which have no connection to last night, and injuries, which were all result of last night.
-I was going up against Dyre laat night when they attacked our group. Most of scars have no connection to that, but injuries…definitely.
-Khm khm…“going up against Dyre” implies you fought them, not that you were quite bluntly beaten by them.
All Dyre you encountered seemed to play with you instead of fighting, prob curious about how many times can they smack you only for that to result in you standing up for more punishment.
You should have stayed in car and left Dyre to actual fighters.
Some local hearing this: Whats “car”?
Klimentol realized this may be confusing to them:
“Car” is transportational device we are using for travel. I would say its combination of carriages and locomotives you are used to seeing…how, you may ask?
Car uses exactly the same roads as carriages and just like them it can actually travel without particularly defined road.
This is achieved without animal power: just like locomotives, car has an mechanical structure called engine that produces power propelling the vehicle.
-So, carriage with steam engine instead of horses?
-Kinda yes, only that our car uses different type of engine. Since this type is something you dont see around, i would assume you arent familiar with technology used to make it or with how it kinda works.
I could explain that, but dont see how that would be important for this particular conversation.
Locals were satisfied with answer and once again Pi gained most of their attention.
Duo loaded up with supplies and turned back to camp, only to find that Chicota havent returned yet.
Klimentol had returned into town and happened to stumble into same shop that was already visited by Chicota.
-Hi, im looking for a friend of mine. Same height as me, slim build, likes both drinking alcohol and fighting. You seen someone like that recently?
-…No? Wait…how is friend called?
-Chicota
-Oh…OH. They went into a local bar.
-They?
-He and my dad.
-Can you give me directions?
-Sure…(proceeds to do exactly that)
-Thanks.
Some time later, trio composed of father, son and their sledgehammer had returned to camp.
Now our group is hanging out around Kontir, so we are open for interactions with rest of teams.
5 Likes
Very nice writeup, I love it.
1 Like
Duskwater Village, Crugandr.
Local time: 2 Sun
Weather: Still hot as hell.
By @Madrias and @TheYugo45GV
Safe Arrival
The unmistakable sound of an engine and tires on gravel, signaled the arrival of Oil Crisis and the Magistrate. Soon the olive drab wagon appeared turned into the campsite, rolling to a stop next to the Bricksley. Only Aedan and Malcolm got out, which meant that something was up. Jayde could feel that the team’s mood was off, the aura dark and cold.
The damaged bumper and the roaring radiator fan revealed that they had hit something, and the clump of fur clinging to the dented metal revealed more. A Dyre had met its doom to the Magistrate.
Jayde had looked over at the Magistrate as it pulled up sensing the two Dyres in the car. Kaylie had put her hand over her chest realizing what had happened. Malcolm sat in the grass and Aedan grabbed the two pups, who were asleep, leaned against the Magistrate and took a deep breath. Kivenaal returned from somewhere followed by, Rukari who walked around the front of the Bricksley and saw the two pups in Aedan’s hands.
“If you raise them,” Rukari said, “they are very intelligent.”
Aedan nodded. “That’s what I plan on doing, I just hope they aren’t a huge handful.”
Meanwhile, Jayde rummaged around in his messenger bag before he pulled out a mirror about the size of a smartphone. "Rukari’s right, Aedan. At that age, you raise them as part of society, while they’ll never completely lose their wild nature, they’ll always have some traits of Dyre heritage, they’ll be almost indistinguishable from other shape-shifters,”. Then he focused on the mirror which slowly faded into displaying an image of a gray-furred wolf.
“Hello, Jayde!” she said.
“Good Evening, Lyrra. I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Aedan. He, through some unfortunate circumstances, has just become the adoptive father of two Dyre pups.”
Lyrra gave a slight whimper since she likely knew what Jayde meant by it. “He plan to raise pups?”
Before continuing Jayde leaned closer to Aedan. “She learned to speak when she was 20 years old,”
Then he nodded. “I think so.”
“He will be good father,” Lyrra said, just before a crash from behind her got her attention. She turned around, seeing the shattered remains of a glass inkwell on the floor, turned to the mirror and said, “One time,” then walked over and grabbed the guilty pup off of the desk by the scruff of his neck. “You no play with glass!” she said. “To room, now,” she added, setting the pup down.
As she walked back to the mirror, Lyrra smiled lightly. “Not easy some days. Had three, what is word? Years? Yes, years. Had three years with pups. Had learn that pups play with all things, try eat all things, sleep all places. Can see Ae- A- Can see he will be good father,” Lyrra said, though it showed she couldn’t quite figure out how to say Aedan’s name.
“Aedan, Lyrra,” Jayde said, completing the name for her.
“Aethan,”
Jayde smiled and looked at Aedan, then said, “She has a little trouble with names.”
Aedan simply chuckled. “I’m glad she thinks I will be a good father.”
“I not have trouble with names. You have names that have trouble with me,” Lyrra replied with a smirk. “First was Marlock, Cat Lynn, Murkus, Russell, and Raja, now is Aethan.”
“Heroes of the Four Corners War,” Jayde said to Aedan. “Murlocke, who is Rukari’s father. Caitlyn, also known to some as Mane-of-Snakes. Marcus, a big tiger shifter. Russell, a Wyld-form wolf shifter, and Raja of Bittrenn, a lion who started as a bit of a brat and became a hero.”
“I see, it’s been a pleasure to meet you, Lyrra.”
"You raise them,” Jayde said, motioning to the two pups, “to be part of society from this age, no one will be able to tell.”
“That’s great, they’ll be in good hands.”
K’mino had climbed out of the car completely catatonic, his eyes emitting a dark aura. Jayde knew what the look meant. “You do realize this wasn’t your fault, right?Even if you had slammed on the brakes, you may have hit her only just hard enough to break bones, and she still would have dragged herself into the forest to die. I’ve seen it happen. Wounded Dyre have a surprising amount of determination to escape.”
Kivenaal then spoke up. “War is hell,” he said. “And civilian casualties of war, no matter what, are always the worst part. Doesn’t matter whether they’re human, Valraadi, Dyre, the snake-folk of Vipara, it’s a tragedy all the same. They were running from the noise, some were bound to have run across the road while we were running from them.”
K’mino stayed silent, but his eyes lost their darkness, and he went to find a quiet place to meditate without saying anything else.
Orlan had rolled the Magistrate’s window down in an attempt to get some air and listened in on the conversation. The fight was being discussed again and he felt his heart sink, everyone nearly died because of him. He was still the idiot who nearly killed them all, and what was absolutely terrible was that he lost every last drop of his self trust. However, a certain white tigress was watching him as they listened in on the conversation. She recognized the look in Orlan’s eyes as the same look she’d seen reflected back at her in the reflection off of the Bricksley’s large rear door windows. The look of someone who had made a huge mistake, someone who shouldered the blame personally for what had happened.
With a sigh, Kaylie walked up to the window of the green car. “We both have our regrets, Orlan,” Kaylie said gently, catching Orlan’s attention. “I don’t know all that happened last night with you, but… I never meant to kill those two Dyre." She sighed. As this happened, Orlan noticed the moonlight glinting of something in her eye. “The first one–” She paused to try and compose herself, “I just meant to knock him out.” Another pause, “The second, I didn’t mean to tear his throat out.” Then just as Jayde walked around the corner, Kaylie wasn’t able to hold herself together any longer. Jayde pulled her into an embrace as she softly wept.
Orlan didn’t say a word instead choosing to climb out of the car and stretch his legs before leaning against the roof next to Kivenaal who leaned against the dented fender of the Magistrate. “I’ve seen this kind of thing, Orlan. Not trusting yourself because you started a fight. Flashbacks to the past. Thinking there are threats around every corner. You ever find a solution, you let me know. I’d love to have an answer,” he said, looking upward toward the stars.
“I’ll try my best. I used to be in law enforcement until I ended up shooting and killing someone who didn’t even pose a threat, he made a sudden movement and next thing I knew that man was being taken away into an ambulance that I don’t even remember calling.” A sigh escaped him and he too looked up at the stars.
Kivenaal nodded. “Being here is difficult for me. I saw the end of it all. This… This is where it started. Bright purple fog, something that… For my people, purple is the color of life. It’s why Rukari’s cloak has purple-dyed fur up around the shoulders. The fog swallowed up the whole world. All that was left were the trees. And the only reason I survived is because I look like someone I can never be,” he explained.
Orlan meanwhile gazed into the sky watching the stars, he breathed letting the sound of the river let him relax him. The peace was broken however when Kivenaal spoke up,
“I look like the Valraadi deity, Xelth, the Father of Us All. I’m only a few inches shorter in height, at least according to the mythology. I can’t go anywhere without people ‘recognizing’ me and treating me differently. When I was on Earth, I was treated differently, too, but it wasn’t being treated as someone to be worshiped, and so I was okay with that. Here, I can’t even buy food without sending people into a panic.”
Stopping his gaze, Orlan stopped leaning on the Magistrate and sat on the ground right where he was standing. “Sounds like people hate you just because you coincidentally look like someone you are not. I knew someone who was like that, but I forgot his name.”
“Honestly, I’d prefer the hatred,” Kivenaal said. “I don’t like getting treated better just because I look like someone I am not. And the people who panic are the ones who fall over themselves trying to find ways to please me, not realizing that I just want to be treated normally.”
Kivenaal got up to head toward the Bricksley for a bottle of moonshine, however, Malavera stopped him.
“We don’t need you being drunk right now,” Malavera said gently. “If something goes wrong, we need you to be able to fight.”
Kivenaal shoved past him and grabbed the purple glass bottle anyway. “I’m tired of fighting, Mal. I really am,” he replied, sitting down against the side of the Magistrate, making sure not to scratch the paint with his horns or hit the car with his quilled tail tuft. With a tell-tale amount of skill, Kivenaal pulled the cork free with his claws, something he’d clearly done countless times.
Orlan watched him sit down and make sure that he didn’t damage the already wounded Vanguard. The bottle was quite big, but in Kivenaal’s hand it seemed smaller.
“You want to share? I need something to help me forget what happened, plus I’d like a taste of something other than whiskey. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
Nodding, Kivenaal passed the bottle. “Be careful, it’s stronger than you think,” he warned. “Rukari’s the one who makes it, and I swear you could run an engine with it. Somehow, you can still get a hint of the lemons it was made from, but it’s very faint,”
“That stuff’s about 190 proof,” said Malavera, putting something away in the cabin of the Highwayman. “The scary thing is, I’ve seen Kiva there drink the whole bottle and still seem mostly sober.”
“He has Khakrin lineage,” Rukari chimed. “My father had a legendary capacity for alcohol, as did his father, and all the way back to where our blood-line started. Wouldn’t surprise me if that carried forward for him, too.”
“Rukari, I consider you as a brother, but I swear by the Dancing Sisters above, if you mention who started that blood-line, I will hurl the empty bottle at your head, and this time, I won’t miss,” Kivenaal replied, somewhat unamused.
Jayde looked over at them. “You won’t hit him, either,”
The only reply Kivenaal gave was a roll of his eyes.
Meanwhile, Orlan took a swig from the purple bottle. The alcohol hit like a freight train which set off a fit of coughing. While it was strong, it had a somewhat sour but relatively smooth taste, quite surprising for homemade alcohol.
“This is really good, I’ve never seen someone make an alcoholic drink from lemons.” he observed, passing the bottle back to Kivenaal. “Though, I feel that 190 proof is a bit too much for me.”
“I learned that recipe from my father’s journal,” Rukari beamed, “from his time learning magic in Tendragon Academy.”
“Helps to have a second bottle to mix it with water,” said Kivenaal “if it’s a bit strong.” He took a fairly large swig, seeming oblivious to how strong it really was. “I’ve been drinking this for a while now, so I’m used to it.”
Malavera added in, “The Valraadii have some interesting biological differences. They’re immune to cancer and have an incredible tolerance for alcohol to start with. On the other hand, that blue blood of theirs is highly destructive to steel and iron, and I’ve even seen it corrode the hell out of aluminum.”
“You win some, you lose some,” Kivenaal said, taking another swig.
Kaylie, meanwhile, had pulled herself together and had taken note of the situation, looking for the other purple bottles in the bed of their truck, handing it to Orlan. “I sometimes get some of Rukari’s mix before he distills it down. That’s like a sweet lemon beer, but there’s a lot of it.”
“Thank you. I never thought I’d end up trying something new.”
Aedan and Malcolm had used the time Orlan was conversing with Team Shift Happens to get the tent and the other camping supplies out of their car, setting up their sleeping arrangements. They’d mess with the radiator later once there was daylight and more well rested people to help. Orlan had wrapped up his conversation with the other team and had gone to his team.
“Are we going to sleep?”
Aedan nodded, yawning.
“Yes, we only got about three hours until you decided to start shooting.”
“Sorry about that.”
Soon, the five team members had got into their beds wanting to catch up on the much needed rest that they missed out on.
To Be Continued (Like Always)
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20/7/3251 /// 4:70 Moon LJT
It was a night hotter than any other, one that made even an Australian like Mel writhe in agony. No amount of midnight outback heat could compare to the furnace-like conditions she was trying - and failing miserably - to fall asleep in. The wind was slow and the air was hot; cracking both windows, the sunroof, and even the tailgate open did little aside from providing ventilation. The quick bath she took in the river earlier had gone to waste now that she was trying to sleep in a pool of her own sweat, making her clothes stick to her back. To make matters worse, a certain war criminal was sleeping with her, and the body heat of two girls trapped inside a greenhouse combined with a sweltering Crugandr midnight made them feel like they were getting cooked alive. And indeed, Mel’s trauma was not an isolated experience, but rather a trauma shared with Tanuki.
“Meru-chan… Mel! I can’t sleep!” Amidst endless tossing and turning that rocked the entire car, Tanuki finally voiced her complaints out loud. Mel clasped her hands over her ears and buried her face in a pillow, but nothing she did was welcoming enough to the unavoidable embrace of the slumber she so desired. Not when Tanuki was being as restless as she was.
“God! What is it now?” Mel kept her voice quiet but sharp, glaring at Tanuki in annoyance. She still wore her black face mask even when in bed, or perhaps it was only because she was sleeping with Mel. Strands of black hair fell sideways across her face, partially obscuring her eyes that were already barely visible in the foggy void of the night. At least she doesn’t sleep with her shades on too, Mel smirked.
“It’s too hot! I feel like I’m getting cooked alive!” Tanuki whined. The two of them had inadvertently tucked themselves away from each other as far as the confines of the Dauer’s interior would allow them in order to escape the body heat of the other. “Hey! Turn the AC on!”
“What? No! We have to conserve our petrol! Doesn’t exactly grow on trees here!” Mel shot back. “Just get out of your sleeping bag!”
“I already did, but it’s still too hot!” Silence, and then Mel heard the sound of damp clothes being frantically peeled off. “Fine! If you won’t turn the AC on, then I’m stripping! You better not look… or else!” Tanuki hissed, sitting up as far as she could in the Dauer’s cramped interior and sliding her black gym shorts down her legs. She tossed her soaked pajamas to the passenger seat, landing with wet rustles. Mel unknowingly caught a glimpse of the forbidden sight as Tanuki fell back down on her makeshift mat. Her back was turned towards Mel, exposing her surprisingly toned lats and trapezius that were somewhat concealed under a binding sarashi cloth wrapped tightly around her breasts. Now that she had stripped down, the hands of fate would occasionally reward Tanuki with a gust of wind that blew through the cracked open windows, cooling her down and quenching her restlessness.
How silent the night was after that damned war criminal stopped fidgeting about! Save for the incessant din of various insects and pests chattering and chirping in the forest canopy around them, the campsite was swathed in a midnight serenity. Silent, stationary, and most importantly, asleep. Despite her cruel, teasing, at times bombastic demeanor, Tanuki’s snores could barely even be called that, being so soft and gentle that you couldn’t have heard it unless you were right up against her. Mel took this occasion to simply take in the rare moment of tranquility she had been granted. A blackened night sky unmolested by urban light pollution with no hint of distant traffic or commotion, just the sounds of nature. Just like the old days, where weekend-long camping trips in the outback were just among the many monthly festivities.
Unfortunately for Mel, who was just about to drift into the first stage of sleep, the virgin silence of the night would not remain untouched for much longer. A set of rapid gallops emerged from the canopy of silence, growing louder and closer. The Dauer was violently jostled as something struck a loud glancing blow on the right rear fender. Whatever it was, it clearly wasn’t there to stay, and the hasty, thundering footsteps disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.
“What the hell was that?!”
The duo sat up in unison. Their eyes met each other’s, then the cloudy windows around them. Through the thick fog that rolled through the campsite, they could see rapid flashes accompanied by the dangerously close, ear-piercing chatter of automatic gunfire. Dark silhouettes darted in and out of the fog around them like a swarm of locusts, their heavy footsteps sending ripples through the ground. In a matter of seconds, the two of them hastily threw on whatever clean clothes were immediately within reach and began buckling up in their respective seats.
Mel stabbed the key into the ignition and twisted it, the starter chirping loudly as it spun all six cylinders of the engine. First came the spray of the air-fuel mixture, then the spark, and the rapid gunfire of the exhaust rang loudly through the entire campsite. She turned all eight lights on, only to be blinded right back as the fog reflected most of it into her eyes. Turning off the rally lights and keeping the headlights in low beam mode, Mel and Tanuki could now clearly ascertain the quickly evolving - or devolving - situation around them. Wolves, but not just any ordinary group of specimens of the canine family. Perhaps wolves on steroids was a more fitting name; these creatures were two to three times as big as the dingoes she was used to seeing back at home, and probably over twenty times as massive. Their jaws were big enough to fit an entire head inside and their powerful legs were bulging with muscle under their fur, and the pack swarmed the campsite in increasing numbers, barking and howling loudly.
“Strewth! What the bloody fuck are those?!" Mel cried. Tanuki reached behind her seat for her shotgun; 5.56mm wouldn’t suffice, not even 7.62 NATO. Suddenly, an explosion sent a pressurized wave of air smacking into the Dauer’s side, even setting off the alarms of the other teams’ cars. Chaos to the maximum possible order was in session, and Mel could barely even hear her own thoughts over the sound of automatic gunfire, screaming, bone-chilling roaring and howling.
Off to her left, Mel saw a pair of glowing green eyes staring right back at her. The outline of its canine head emerged from the cloudy obscura, and it silently stepped into a visible range. Maintaining eye contact with this colossal beast, hands glued to the steering wheel with a vice grip, Mel looked right at the face of death and remained as still as possible, frozen in fear.
Tanuki elbowed Mel in the shoulder as she brought the shotgun to her shoulder, aiming at the unwanted, hungry visitor. “MEL! DUCK!” She screamed, pushing Mel out of the way to clear the tip of the barrel.
Mel grabbed the steering wheel and planted her face into it, and the Dauer honked loudly in response. The beast bared its fangs with a growl, dug its paws into the ground and launched itself right for the door that it could easily rip into shreds as if it was paper. But Tanuki’s aim was deadly, and immediately after the booming signature of the Mossberg 500, a 12 gauge slug ripped through the massive Dyre’s open mouth and past a terrifying gallery of long, sharp teeth. Not even letting out as much as a whimper, its huge muscle-bound, fur-lined body crashed into the ground with an abrupt thud that they could feel even inside the car. It came to a rest after twitching once, exposing the fist-sized exit wound on the back of its head that carried blood, bone fragments and brain matter through it. “MEL!” Tanuki practically yelled in her ear, racking the pump back with authority and ejecting the spent shell. “Drive now, or you’ll end up like that bastard and I’ll take the wheel myself!”
No other commands were necessary. Mel threw the gear lever into first and released the clutch at half throttle, then spun the wheel to the right as she fully depressed the gas pedal. The Dauer’s trajectory evolved into a tight spin, its rear tires throwing up a mini localized cyclone of dust and dirt that disoriented and confused the Dyre immediately around them. Their dark shadows and glowing eyes disappeared in the swirling makeshift smokescreen through which not even all four of their aftermarket rally lights could pierce. Mel’s quick thinking bought them enough time to quickly leave the campsite without attracting any more of the Dyre, and the 632 S went barrelling down that same gravel road by the river, singing the vibrant anthem of its boxer-6.
The car rattled and shook vigorously as it rocketed down the road of gravel and dirt with reckless abandon, carving through pitch black and the dense gray fog that shrouded them in blindness. Their visibility was limited to everything that lied no further than 20 or so meters, and combined with their rapid pace, every bend, turn, dip, hump, bank, off-camber, and obstacle in the road would materialize out of thin air and force itself under the car. Given these sudden changes in road conditions, Mel had very little room for error and even less time to react and adjust her steering angle or throttle/brake application. But given the speed of these Dyre and their ability to sustain a pace that nearly matched some speed limits in Adelaide, they didn’t have much of a choice. Their heart-rending howls that echoed for miles in the woods only seemed to grow in intensity, occasionally being overcome by the soaring throaty rumble of the Dauer’s own howling motor.
Louder grew the sounds of rocks being thrown up by tires and hitting the wheel wells, and harsher became the shaking and the swaying car as the road it sped over became rougher and bumpier, marked with deep scars running along the length of the road and random dips that could cause the Dauer to bottom out if Mel didn’t choose a good line. She eased on the brakes, but as a pair of red lights situated in a familiar boxy orange profile suddenly cut through the fog, she pushed the pedal all the way into the footwell and the entire car lurched forwards, rapidly decelerating. “HEY!” Tanuki yelled, her body most certainly having harness-shaped welts after that harsh maneuver. “It’s those bastards! What the hell are they doing?!”
“Do you see where we’re driving? Trail’s absolutely fucked! That, and thanks to this fog we’re as blind as bats!” Mel shouted back, getting thrown left and right in her seat as she followed the Dione closely, almost tailgating it. “And next time,” she glared angrily at Tanuki, “give me a good warning before you fire a fucking shotgun right next to my ear! My eardrums are still ringing, bloody hell!”
“A thank you would be nice, you know!” Tanuki hissed, jabbing a pointer finger into Mel’s sternum. “You’d be their next meal if it wasn’t for my quick thinking and perfect aim! Next time, show some respect to the cute girl that saves your life!”
Their bickering was rudely interrupted by a series of loud barking and snarling in very close proximity around them, and from the corners of their vision they could see dark gray shapes dart in and out of the thick fog around the impromptu convoy of vehicles spearheaded by the orange Anhultz. One of them lunged from the canopy of blindness in the Dauer’s direction, and Mel swerved the vehicle to the right, narrowly missing a strike that would have been powerful enough to cripple a door or tear a wheel clean off. She fought the slipping rear of the 632 S and quickly brought it back on course, muttering obscure bogan obscenities she wouldn’t say twice around her parents lest she receive a swift ass-whopping.
“They’re back! The doggos are back!” Tanuki loaded another shell into her shotgun and flicked the safety off. “Meru-chan, focus on driving, but try to keep the car steady, okay?” she winked and rolled the window down. A hot breeze of wind sifted through the cabin and Mel’s platinum blonde hair, dancing in the warm wind like blades of grass serenading the sunset over green Pacific cliffs. Unbuckling her racing harness, she leaned out the open window, wrapping her legs around the seat and harness to keep her anchored in place.
Mel made sure to keep the Dione within her direct line of sight, a task made easier by its vibrant paint that contrasted well against their dark, drab, low-vis surroundings. The suspension and chassis responded immediately and precisely to the frequent, sudden derivations in the road surface, perhaps a little too well; as the car was set up primarily for high-speed tarmac courses, the springs and dampers were tuned much stiffer than what would be typically found in other rally cars. Every little bump and rock in the road was amplified and transmitted directly to Mel’s weary body, which only made her fight against her inescapable tiredness harder as time went on.
“They’re coming!” Tanuki’s yelling was barely audible over the noise of the wind that poured inside and the boxer-6 flying through the higher end of the rev range, but Mel steeled her fortitude and smoothed her inputs, making gradual and gentle motions as opposed to quick and sudden maneuvers with her hands. She heard the roar first, and from the corner of her eyes saw a shadowy extrusion turn into an eleven foot-long Dyre, its mouth wide open and ready to devour the twin-tailed warmonger. “ORRRA!” Tanuki shouted, gratuitously rolling her r’s. With a pull of the trigger, the barrel shotgun erupted with a flash of white and yellow light and a thunderous clap that echoed loudly through the forest. A subsonic slug wedged itself in the Dyre’s midsection with enough stopping force to throw its lifeless body slightly off trajectory, missing the Dauer narrowly as it flew past.
A second Dyre came into view, this time on Mel’s side of the car. Tanuki swung the Mossberg around with her upper body and propped it on the roof, using her left hand to hold onto the ceiling grab handle. As she steadied her aim on the gargantuan wolf that readied itself for a pouncing attack, the Dione in front of them suddenly swerved around a random sharp protruding rock placed conveniently in the middle of the road. Just as Tanuki lined up her shot and pulled the trigger, Mel mirrored the Dione’s actions and swung the Dauer violently around the sudden obstacle. Although the slug found its target, the punchy recoil from the shotgun combined with the sudden movement made her lose her balance, and she fell over backwards, pulled by the unforgiving hands of inertia.
As Mel straightened the car, heard a high-pitched scream to her right, and from her peripheral vision saw Tanuki falling down. Moments before her legs loosened and her head dipped below the window sill, Mel reached over and grabbed Tanuki by her shirt with as much grip strength as she could afford. In a single powerful motion, she yanked her small-framed co-driver through the open window and back into her seat. Amazingly, she was still clutching her shotgun and stopped screaming once she realized she was safe.
“Crikey!” Mel cursed, loosening her grip on Tanuki’s shirt. “You okay?”
“I’m fine!” Even in the face of death, she was as stubborn as ever. Completely unfazed. “Do you job and I’ll do mine!” Making sure to wrap the harness around her legs and waist, Tanuki leaned outside the window with her shotgun, once again ready to protect them and the other vehicles from sudden Dyre attacks.
Tanuki’s powerful legs (and now the harness) helped her remain anchored in place, even with the occasional sudden braking, accelerating, turning, and hopping that naturally came from the Dauer traversing the rough terrain. She was the shotgun messenger, the German coupe was her stagecoach, and Mel its driver. She kept her head on a swivel, watching for any unusual manifestations from the thick fog that got a little too close for comfort. They would strike without warning, but Tanuki’s razor sharp reaction time would grant them a swift death via a 12 gauge slug through center mass or one of their eye sockets, whichever came first.
Minutes passed into hours of loud, droning engines that ripped through the trail at wide open throttle, frequently broken up by the resounding bang of a Mossberg 500 that they were growing used to. With each Dyre that fell, their attacks grew less coordinated and less frequent. By the time she was halfway through a second tube magazine, the Dyre had stopped attacking for a few minutes, and the handful of cars closely giving chase to the Dione in a single-file line were finally at peace.
After just over five hours of rough trail taken at considerable speed, half of which was also dedicated to warding off unsolicited Dyre attacks with a certain pump-action shoulder-fired cannon, the brightly-colored Dauer came upon the new campsite, having managed to keep pace with the familiar Dione through most of the course. This time, a generous clearing was situated between the campsite and woods, giving them not only a peace of mind but also a much shorter distance to the nearby settlement, Duskriver Village. Most of the other teams had arrived well before they did much to Tanuki’s chagrin, but Mel couldn’t have given more than a sliver of rodent’s ass. With barely a few hours of sleep that preceded five long, grueling hours of driving through heavy fog that was now only starting to lighten, her entire body ached and her eyelids were begging to meet each other and consummate for a full night’s rest.
After peeling her clothes off, not even sparing an extra minute to slip pajamas over her undergarments, Mel mounted the sunshade on the inside of the windshield and crawled over the rear passenger bulkhead into the boot area. Shortly after, Tanuki wedged herself into her half of the hatch, crawling under a thin blanket that the two of them shared.
“Meru-chan?” Tanuki’s whisper was soft and relaxed, a true sound for Mel’s sore, ringing ears. Her voice was close; she could tell from the tickles of her breath against the back of her neck.
“What is it?” Mel grumbled, but her weariness reduced whatever hint of annoyance was in her voice into barely intelligible mumbles. Inches away from comatose, she was slipping further and further into unconsciousness, barely held up by the loose thread of Tanuki’s silent beckoning.
“What if… what if you just let me fall back there?” Unlike before, where Tanuki’s enthusiasm and energy carried enough momentum to persist through breaks or pauses in her words, now there was only an eerie dread that Mel felt in her voice. She continued to interrogate her partner. “Meru-chan, why did you do it? What if you didn’t see me or hear me… what if I died back there?”
“Oh, bite your arse, will you!” Mel snapped, raising her voice above a hushed whisper as she tilted her head in Tanuki’s direction. “You’re here now, and that’s all that matters! Stop getting your tits in a tangle and be quiet!” With that, Mel rolled over to her side away from Tanuki and closed her eyes, praying for the sweet embrace of sleep that she so desired.
And an embrace she did receive, but much to her surprise, the giver was not what - or who, rather - she was expecting. It was only for a moment, such a short lapse of time that she doubted if it actually happened at all, but she was almost certain that she could feel a slender pair of arms wrap tightly around her waist and Tanuki pull herself into Mel’s scantily-clothed back. Her soft, labored breaths against her bare skin were like a heavensent breeze of cool, moist wind from an oasis embedded deep into the Sahara.
“Thank you.”
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