Cloris: Go to Hell

Discussion in 'Boat Trolls RP' started by Cloris Vhines, Jun 12, 2015.

  1. Cloris Vhines

    Cloris Vhines Queen Bitch of Trainwreck Town

    => Be Cloris

    Are you sure about that?

    => [Yes] [OH GOD I CHANGED MY MIND HER THINKPAN IS A NEST OF VINE SNAKES I DON’T WANT TO BE QUEEN BITCH OF TRAINWRECK TOWN]

    You are now Cloris Vhines.

    After your darling dozes off in your lap, you scoop him up and carry him back to your respiteblock. Your dear, drowsy pet is always so adorably dreamy after sex--his eyes flutter open briefly and he smiles at you as you ease him into your cupe. You drop little doting kisses on his horns and rub sopor into his hair until he slips into a deeper slumber, and then you climb in after him.

    You didn’t precisely gorge yourself on him--Erskin’s questionable health aside, you haven’t felt the urge to take more than a few mouthfuls from anyone in quite some time; the stress of the past week really must be catching up with you if it’s putting you off your food--but your love’s blood sings sweetly through you nonetheless, and sleep takes you quickly. Your last conscious thought is that when this is all over, and Erskin is finally entirely yours, you will have to host a little soiree, just an intimate gathering of your dearest companions (no less than forty or fifty, surely) and there you will treat yourself to a rainbow banquet fit for a monarch.

    You drift in the blackness of an unformed dream for a short while, tense and wary. Here is where you are most vulnerable, and here is when that monstrous indigoblood usually takes you unaware, no matter how many times you drift to sleep telling yourself that he won’t get the upper hand on you this time.

    But, for once, the brute doesn’t pounce on you. Instead, you feel the tendrils of another sleeper curling at the edges of your void. This new troll is not one you’ve encountered before, but he’s not entirely unfamiliar either. Concentrating, you pull the tendrils closer, encouraging them to coil and twist and lengthen, and soon you can hover at its blurry edges and peek inside the tantalizing private universe of an uncharted dream.

    At first there are only confusing flashes of color and sound, little echoes of thoughts, and soon a name reveals itself to you. Belatu Kadros. Oh my. Though you have no form out here, you make a broad, invisible smile nonetheless, one that would show all your teeth in the waking world.

    Oh, but this is too delicious.

    It barely takes any effort at all to glide into Kadros’s dream, as silent as a shadow--

    And suddenly you are crouching in squelching in mud and with bursts of rain pelting you like stinging sand. You are wearing the most hideous uniform you’ve ever seen in your life. The sounds of gunfire and the bellows of enraged lusii are all around you, and you only have your Thorns for strifekind, your deadly sharp needles made of polished ebony that cost you a small fortune to commission, but they’re useless for warfare, there are too many of them out there and you know any minute now Captain Kadros is going to show up and--
     
    • Like x 2
  2. Belatu Kadros

    Belatu Kadros crossfireHurricane

    You hate live fire battles in the mud. In point battles, the 'dead' and 'wounded' can leave the field under their own power, but when the killing is real, they lie there until they stink, some of them still crying for their lusii. It makes you question why you're even doing this -- but of course that's treason. (Strange echo of feeling like that's a silly thing to worry about; doesn't make sense.) And these egg-wet rookies always freak out about stepping over corpses.

    You twist to look over your squad, and find a greenie almost as big as you peeking over the lip of the trench. You put your hand on her head and push. "Head down, rookie, those are real bullets." You catch sight of her weapons and bite back an obscenity. "Who let you on the field with a strifekind like that? Here --" You always carry spares, and your plan involves grenades, so you press a bombkind card into her too-well-manicured hand. "Stick close to me, kid, you'll be all right."

    It's a lie, but it's the kind of lie that gets scared troops moving, and if they freeze up they're dead for sure.
     
    • Like x 2
  3. Cloris Vhines

    Cloris Vhines Queen Bitch of Trainwreck Town

    You bite back a reflexive urge to snarl as your superior shoves your head down-he TOUCHED your HAIR--but instead you say “Yes, sir,” automatically and regard the new card in your shaking hands. You’ve never manipulated one of these before, and you’re not so sure about the choice, (bombs seem just so unbearably uncouth) but then someone’s gorilla-dad (guerrilla-dad? You sorely hope these dreadful puns are symptomatic of Bel’s thinkpan and not yours) comes charging at you and you don’t think, you just act, and lob a grenade in his path.

    It explodes, and so does the lusus, and now you’re covered in mud, rain, and a healthy smattering of teal gore.

    “Oh hell, those were my best shoes!”
     
    • Like x 2
  4. Belatu Kadros

    Belatu Kadros crossfireHurricane

    You chuckle and clap her shoulder approvingly; if she can joke, she'll be okay. "Right, they're getting impatient. Almost time. Gunkinds with me. Suppressive fire, just unload like hell, you won't be able to hit much anyhow. Bombkinds stick close behind, and when we get close enough you'll throw over our heads into the trench at my signal, not before. We all hit the dirt at that point. Wait til the grenades go off, then melee users storm the trench and mop up while gunkinds keep the enemy off their backs."

    Casting your eye over the group to make sure they're ready, your gaze catches on your other rookie, a gorgeous seadweller (seadweller in the trenches? that can't be right… but there he is) whom you know uses dual flintlocks as a matter of preference. "Save the one-shot antiques for the trench," you caution him. "For the approach I need you to replace the air around the enemy with lead."
     
    • Like x 2
  5. Erskin Aspera

    Erskin Aspera flintlockGallivant

    You grin at your fearless leader, and make a show of buffing mud off one of your flintlocks. “One shot, one kill, boss,” you say cheerfully. “Automatics aren’t any fun.”
     
    • Like x 2
  6. Belatu Kadros

    Belatu Kadros crossfireHurricane

    You roll your eyes fondly. "I'll be counting your kills afterwards, hotshot." It's fine, you can make up for his low rate of fire. You rack a round in your assault rifle and lift it over your head with one hand. "GET SOME!" you yell, and your troops yell back. "GET SOME! GET SOME!"

    And with a roar, you vault the lip of the trench and unleash Hell.
     
    • Like x 3
  7. Erskin Aspera

    Erskin Aspera flintlockGallivant

    You flash your girlfriend an excited grin before scrambling up the muddy walls after the commander. His tall horns show clearly through the rain and clouds of steam and smoke, and you stick close behind, picking off anything that thinks it can get away from the more general spray of lead, flintlocks dropping out of your strife deck, fired before the rain can foul the powder, dropped into your sylladex to be reloaded later. The closer you get to the trenches the easier it gets to find targets, sinking your bullets into arms and shoulders and guts, the eyes of lusii, their stinging tails and reaching claws. The commander steps over an injured shellbeast and it takes a snap at him— you smack the cruel ripping beak away, break its neck rather than waste a shot. He just moves forward, calm and steady, through kicking, struggling wounded, and you desperately hope the bombs signal comes soon.
     
    • Like x 2
  8. Cloris Vhines

    Cloris Vhines Queen Bitch of Trainwreck Town

    What follows is the single most horrifying night of your life. (Your life? Yes, this is your life, there was never anything before this, before now.) You crawl in Erskin’s wake, because that’s what feels right and it’s not your turn to attack yet. You’ve never attacked anything in your life. All around you are trolls wounded, trolls dying, and some of them reach for you even though they’re dead and spit scathing remarks about your fashion sense. One greenblood with no jaw and a waggling tongue tells you that your parties are boring.

    You’re aware of Bel telling you not to let the trash talk distract you, but then one of the stone cold corpses sits up and looks at you and it’s Lottie, of course it’s Lottie, all matchstick thin and with most of her face gone, her clothes in tatters.

    You bitch!” she snarls, clawed hands wrapping around your throat and squeezing. “I saw you in that uniform last week!

    ERSKIN--” you shriek.
     
    • Like x 4
  9. Erskin Aspera

    Erskin Aspera flintlockGallivant

    You hear her clearly, over the rain and fire, and wheel sharply around to go back for her. The commander yells encouragement, the grenadiers are vital to the plan but more than that is Cloris vital to you. Your girlfriend’s not too far behind but tangled up in the wounded, a vengeful revenant, and for all that you know she’s powerful and a good deal larger than you she seems to have forgotten, and is a flailing shrieky mess of panic. You pull the revenant off her, tear the head off, and drop it to the mud.

    “You alright, love?” you ask, standing over her, pistol at the ready. “We need to keep on!”
     
    • Like x 1
  10. Cloris Vhines

    Cloris Vhines Queen Bitch of Trainwreck Town

    You punt the head. It goes flying and hits the mud with a satisfying splat. Shuddering, you hug yourself and fight the rising urge to gag. “Hope you enjoy your mud facial, you insect.” you whisper to it, but then Erskin is near, and oh, all you want to do is be close to him.

    You fling your arms around his neck and kiss him hard.
     
  11. Belatu Kadros

    Belatu Kadros crossfireHurricane

    "Hold the line!" you roar, pointing at your next nearest gunners, then whirl back to bring up your straggling ducklings. What in the hell do they even think they're doing? There's rookie mistakes, and then there's thinksponge damage.

    You grab the greenblood by the back of her flak jacket and yank her off her matesprit (get a glimpse of his face for a moment, breathless and adoring, oh damn he's beautiful) to shove her back in line. "There's no macking in live fire!" you yell. "Grenadiers there! Gunners there! Pack up your deathwish and get moving!"

    With a fistful of the seadweller's ammo belt, you haul him with you back to the front line, absently cutting a centipug lusus in half with a sweep of full auto fire. The enemy's starting to brave the hail of bullets to fight back, aware of the doom bearing down on them. Your lovestruck rookies cost you precious seconds.

    "Pick it up!" you shout, giving them a faster cadence. "One, two! One, two!" Anyone lags now, you're leaving them.

    Even if it's the gorgeous violet. You're totally going to leave him behind. Yeah.

    Definitely.
     
    • Like x 3
  12. Erskin Aspera

    Erskin Aspera flintlockGallivant

    You laugh and stagger after the commander as you’re hauled, winging lusii and desperate trolls as you go. You get your legs under you properly (and why had one hurt, before, there’s no reason to be stiff) and catch up, grabbing a lock of your commander’s ridiculously long hair— like a brushstroke of ink, a banner cut from the night sky— and giving it a sharp tug as you pass him. “Keep up, shellbeast!” you tell him, and laugh again at his startled smile. He’s not so bad looking when he forgets to be a grim hardass.

    You skip sideways, draw your saber, and lop the arm off an enemy agent who thought she was sneaking up on you. Closer quarters saves on bullets: anyone who gets in arms reach of you is done for in short orders. Your eyes are wide, fins taut, heart racing, why haven’t you ever done this before? This is wild, this is wonderful.
     
    • Like x 4
  13. Belatu Kadros

    Belatu Kadros crossfireHurricane

    Just when you think the slowdown might cost you -- not the battle, but more casualties than you're willing to take -- your violet rookie suddenly catches fire. His aim is as good as yours, his swordwork better, and his laugh is a better morale-booster than all the stirring speeches in history. You find yourself laughing as well, despite the enemy suddenly getting the gumption to try a rush.

    Too close range for a long gun now; you switch to pistols, a pair of semiautomatics that for some reason feel like an in-joke with -- Aspera, that's his name -- god this is good, fighting side by side with him, mowing a swath across the battlefield like a harvest drone through terrified, pants-pissing corn.

    You're almost disappointed to hear your dad's piercing screech from far, far above, indicating you've reached the edge of grenade blast range.

    "That's the signal!" you shout. "Gunners down! Grenadiers throw!" You grab at Aspera and pull him down with you, bumping into each other, laughing still.
     
    • Like x 3
  14. Cloris Vhines

    Cloris Vhines Queen Bitch of Trainwreck Town

    You have been incoherent with rage ever since Captain Kadros pulled you off of your matesprit. You watch them joking and laughing and smiling and it lights something fierce and jealous in you, and you forget all about the battle and the objective. Was there even an objective at all, or was this an excuse for Kadros to steal him away from you? You can’t remember.

    More undead trolls rise out of the earth to taunt you, and one of them looks like Elusca. Your kismesis is left whole for the most part, except her face has been blown off, flaunting her naked skull and grinning teeth. Her empty eye sockets mock you as she walks companionably at your side while you struggle through the mud and the death and the rain, apparently unbothered by it all.

    “Oh honey,” she says, but not in her voice: it’s yours. “Does it hurt? You’d better catch up.”

    Cackling in her own voice, she sprints off into the dark, and it’s then that you hear Bel’s command to start lobbing bombs. Your lips peel back from your teeth as you look at his back, his strong proud posture, and you throw a bomb straight at the back of his head.

    Nothing happens. Nothing explodes. You fling another, and another, and another, and all they do is plop in the mud. When you throw one at an approaching alligator lusus, it goes off just as it should, but Bel seems to have some kind of shield around his person.

    Or maybe he just doesn’t notice.

    You’ll fucking make him notice.

    Unsheathing your Thorns, you scream your fury and make a running leap at his back. Somehow you end up overshooting your mark, though; you blink and go right past him.
     
    • Like x 3
  15. Belatu Kadros

    Belatu Kadros crossfireHurricane

    Your new bestie's matesprit goes screeching by with her needlekind in her hands, and you clap her back approvingly as she passes. "Good initiative!" you shout. "Trench assault team, go go go!"

    Aspera gives you a deceptively innocent grin and waves his saber and pistol questioningly. "Where do you want me?"

    You lock eyes with him, deliberately lick your lips, then say calmly, "Cover the assault team," and fire past him at the enemy reinforcements trying (they'll never make it) to join their doomed comrades.

    After this battle, you are going to make him forget his own name. His matesprit can wait her goddamn turn.
     
    • Like x 3
  16. Erskin Aspera

    Erskin Aspera flintlockGallivant

    Your mouth is dry and your fins are pricked embarrassingly forward as you look at him, tall and confident and rather handsome actually, the dark flash of his tongue against even fangs, and you think— you want— you take a hesitant step towards him, then a bullet goes whizzing past your horn and you turn and join the fight.

    You plunge into the trenches after Cloris, stabbing anyone who comes up on her from behind, shooting anyone who tries to take the high ground of the edge of the trench and conveniently silhouettes themselves against the stormclouds. The thrill of a good fight takes you up again and you feel wonderful, every inch of you alive and electric, and you’re laughing again, breathless and joyful, as you carve your way through the scrum.
     
    • Like x 1
  17. Cloris Vhines

    Cloris Vhines Queen Bitch of Trainwreck Town

    You seem to have lost all control over yourself. It’s like you’re running on slippery ice--you can’t seem to slow down and all your attempts at veering and turning end up going wildly wrong. You try to reorient yourself, to get Captain Kadros back in your sights, but they’re both so far away now, barely visible among everyone else jostling and screaming and fighting.

    You’re all out of bombs, but you think that if you could just get over there, you could leap on his chest and stab him full of holes and then Erskin would only have eyes for you again--

    But you can’t stop, you can’t even slow down. What finally ends up halting you in the end is someone’s hand closing around your ankle. You go sprawling, the wind knocked out of you, mud everywhere, and when you twist around to snarl at your attacker, you find it’s another zombie.

    This one is familiar, a blueblood. Darbey, your first matesprit. Big, brawny, sweet simple Darbey, who doted on you even when you drained his stipends dry. Darbey, who is rotted through and has scores of fangmarks all up and down his neck.

    Another hand grasps you by your hair and forces your face down in the mud. Kicking at Darbey, you scream and claw at your new assailant: Kelvan, your seventh kismesis, who you fed to your mother after you caught her barbering your gardens. You manage to flop onto your back, but she only pins your shoulders down and grins horribly into your face, her mouth full of little red centipedes.

    More arrive, grasping at you, shoving at each other. Teylah, who broke your heart so you broke her spine. Tetrah, who you drained dry one idle afternoon and ended up fertilizing your award winning begonias. Hogann, whose black advances bored you so thoroughly inside of a week that you tied him up as neatly as a spider with a fly and put him inside your mother to dissolve slowly, a gag in his mouth to stifle his cries.

    Endless hands grabbing you, wrenching you. More plunge out of the earth itself and pull you down, and you scream as you claw at the ground, at the bodies, desperate for any purchase.

    “ERSKIN!” you scream. “ERSKIN HELP ME--”

    Someone nudges through the throng and for a moment your heart leaps as you spot the silhouette of his familiar horns and earfins, but then he moves closer and he’s paler than you’ve ever seen him, his skin slick and smooth and wrong somehow--and then you see his eyes, two bloody, rotted out pits, and his lips draw back in a horrible, knowing smile.

    You’re immersed in thick, sucking mud up to your armpits, struggling to pull yourself free, and he only kneels and takes your chin to tilt your face up. This close, you can see how his leg has rotted into black mush above the prosthetic, how the pulsing wetware arches up from the stump and burrows into his stomach.

    “Mghy. Mmy Lady.” he croaks, and shoves your head under the mud as hard as he can.

    You wake up thrashing.
     
    Last edited: Jun 12, 2015
    • Like x 7
  18. Erskin Aspera

    Erskin Aspera flintlockGallivant

    You’ve won, it’s an utter route and you drive the enemy before you like so many sand fleas, skittering and crying, the bright smears of their lusii fading into the rain. You stand on the battlefield and gasp raggedly, your swordpoint dragging in the bloody muck, and then you throw your head back and howl, the way you’ve always howled your triumph, the whole battlefield your prey, your beautiful trophy. You beat it fair and square.

    Your commander trots up to you, tall and flushed and grinning, his eyes bright as he looks at you, and he wipes a long wet hank of hair out of his face.

    “I say, that was brilliant,” you yell at him, “you’re brilliant, you big fancy bastard, oh my fucking stars,” and then you throw an arm around his neck and haul him down to kiss him. It’s a scramble of teeth and sweat and rain and muck but his arms are heavy, solid, and he spins you neatly to slam you down against the overturned dome of some incomprehensible bit of war machine. The metal’s hot under your back and Bel’s warm between your legs as he tears into you, and you wrap your legs around his ridiculously sculpted hips and rip his uniform off him like a candy wrapper. He has a chest and shoulders like an advertisement for drone season and he moans when you wrap his hair around your fist and pull.

    “I miss you,” you pant into his mouth, “Fuck, fuck, oh, I miss you like hell, I miss you like I lost another bloody limb, Bel— god—

    "Erskin -- my sweet calamity -- I said always and I meant it," he growls back, shredding your uniform with loving claws. "Won't give up on you. Not ever."

    He gets one big, callused paw into your pants and that is, of course, when you wake up.
     
    • Like x 6
  19. Belatu Kadros

    Belatu Kadros crossfireHurricane

    You grasp at the shreds of the dream, but it falls apart, and you wake up reaching out toward -- the windshield of your flyer.

    There's a fine dusting of snow on it, but as you stare blankly at it, one speck and then another melts into a tiny drop… it's warming up, it's going to rain. That'll be miserable weather to be a sniper in.

    "That was such a good dream," you murmur as you gather the egg bag to your chest just for something to hold. Yes, you're talking to an egg; there's no one here to laugh at you for it. "He was all right. He was happy. He still loved me. I. Heh." Now you're smiling at an egg. "I needed that."

    Cloris won't, of course, be as weaksauce as she was in the dream. But you feel absolutely sure you can beat her now. Erskin needs you to, so you can, it's as simple as that.
     
    • Like x 5
  1. This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
    By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.
    Dismiss Notice