[SA] Ruins of Fortress Babel
- Thread starter Karl Jak
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Face to Face
Sabotage!
Sabotage!
The unmade were making their rounds when they noticed something blinking softly.
Tilting their heads, they approached and saw a nicely typed letter attached to the top of the shiny, glowing box.
Hi, uhh, I don’t know if you types can read? – the duck implied it varies a little based on the pre-existing cognizance and willpower of the individual. I hope you can read, but I’m really sorry if you can’t!!
Oh, uh, anyway. What you see before you is an block of C4 with a timed detonator attached to it. I cooked it up and had some of my fellas sneak it into your building. Now, those guys in there probably didn’t know where to put it, but I did ask them to make sure it was someplace 'sort of visible and important?’. It felt rude to just put a bomb somewhere and not let you discover it first. Yea, yea, … I know you’re monsters, but I just dislike this cloak and dagger nonsense. Shady business. I prefer labs. There’s not shades in labs. Unless you’re talking about windows shades… Or the shadows that are naturally formed under countertops or tables when the light source is directly overhead. Those types of naturally produced shade are unavoidable, given the natural properties of light. Unless you have floor lighting or really good windows. But floor lightning can be a costly investment in a research lab, and too many windows can cause scientists to day dream about the outside world -- jk, we don't care about the outside world. It's usually really warm out there, and I don't even want to get started on trying to explain all the intricacies of peer-to-peer interactions with individuals outside the realm of science. Have you ever gone to a bar and tried to discuss inorganic chemistry with someone who had the opposite and/or same sex assignment in utero as yourself? My gosh, it's challenging. I'm told people are only at bars because they're 'thirsty' but then why is there such an obsession with sexual intercourse, when they're in an establishment that specializes in serving beverages?! It just baffles me. Are they consuming too much sodium? Those places do have plenty of pretzels, I've noticed.
Anyway, I apologize, but the boys did work real hard on this operation, so you can’t be too sassy with them, you promise?
All the appropriate levels of affection and platitudes.
Signed,
Research-Commander Dr. Swift, PhD.
The unmade ghoul, who had been alternating between the box and the piece of cloth with the scribbles on it, had zero luck figuring any of it out before the bomb exploded.
Siege Battle!
Fortress Babel vs “Team Science”
Fortress Babel vs “Team Science”
Dr. Swift fumbled with the flare gun before firing it up into the air.
“Let’s go,” the scientist shouted through his megaphone as the army pressed forward in the face of some shelling from the distant fortification. “Press onto the walls, where it can’t fire at us. The others are already in.”
***
Battle Statistics
Unmade Carnaval: 465 Combat Soldiers, 35 Combat Soldiers (a relief force, arriving in the near future), Fortress advantage
Miniskirt Armada: 500 Combat Soldiers, 150 Refugee-Militias
Note: The Miniskirts suffered some losses from withering fire.
A large portion of Miniskirts are already inside the fortress, and their element of surprise will let them get the gates down.
This battle, being seas of NPCs, will resolve within 3 days.
Battle Statistics
Unmade Carnaval: 465 Combat Soldiers, 35 Combat Soldiers (a relief force, arriving in the near future), Fortress advantage
Miniskirt Armada: 500 Combat Soldiers, 150 Refugee-Militias
Note: The Miniskirts suffered some losses from withering fire.
A large portion of Miniskirts are already inside the fortress, and their element of surprise will let them get the gates down.
This battle, being seas of NPCs, will resolve within 3 days.
Last edited:
A little over 400 Unmade reinforcements have arrived from the west.
From the south, a contingent of almost 700 Babylonian soldiers under the generalship of John Connor ( @Jak ) has arrived, up through the ravaged underground of the Necropolis. They have to come to seemingly reinforce reinforce Dr. Swift.
From the south, a contingent of almost 700 Babylonian soldiers under the generalship of John Connor ( @Jak ) has arrived, up through the ravaged underground of the Necropolis. They have to come to seemingly reinforce reinforce Dr. Swift.
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This day was getting strange and stressful. John watched the seconds move on the clock as he stepped out of the room wearing the new outfit with golden trim, his new commanders, King Gilgamesh and Commander Roy Mustang had given him as part of the new uniform. Hours before, he and several soldiers were already given orders to move toward Fortress Babel, in the heart of unmade territory. They were expected to back Dr. Swift and the “Team Scientists.”
Hours later, Connor bent down and took out a pair of binoculars from the south, keeping a low profile along with his soldiers until they were given the “all clear” by the scientist himself. He studied the unmade backup coming from the west, as soldiers quickly snapped a salute to Connor passing by.
As soon as he saw the “flare” in the air being shot up, General Connor swung his hand, giving his group of men and women the “all clear signal” to press toward the unmade backup coming toward Dr. Swift's men.
Before coming here, Connor never heard of the unmaking threat and thought it wasn’t a huge pressing issue. Actually seeing an unmade beast in person changed his mind fast. The creatures were unmistakably terrifying at least to a man like him. Now that he’d seen and fought against these monsters for possibly the biggest battle he’s seen since Dante's Abyss began.
If the underground tunnels of the Necropolis were anything to gawk at, Connor had his own approach to things. While the unmaking backups slowly moved, Connor eyed the other General nearby, “Stinky Marine” who, true to his name, hoped the other marine had the same ideas as him.
Connor trained his men in a different method, one he constantly used at home to overrun and overwhelm the enemy at the time which was terminators. Terminators were slow and bulky but he wondered if the same tactics would work with the unmade here.
Connor was silent, he moved his head toward any possible hiding spot his soldiers could get to while the unmade army was still moving. His men understood Connor’s and the Stinky Marine’s head movements and pushed them behind whatever barrier or items they could find to shoot behind.
As they bent down and looked for their targets, some of Connor’s men started to shoot at the unmade targets, not only from one angle but all over the area, trying to overwhelm the unmade targets advancing.
Connor yelled “DOWN!”
As everyone followed suit, so did the two Generals.
Connor pressed on the men forward along with Stinky Marine, which Connor preferred to call the odd marine something much more fitting “Fox.”
They kept behind their areas, and kept quiet, and kept shooting from their secret locations.
Hours later, Connor bent down and took out a pair of binoculars from the south, keeping a low profile along with his soldiers until they were given the “all clear” by the scientist himself. He studied the unmade backup coming from the west, as soldiers quickly snapped a salute to Connor passing by.
As soon as he saw the “flare” in the air being shot up, General Connor swung his hand, giving his group of men and women the “all clear signal” to press toward the unmade backup coming toward Dr. Swift's men.
Before coming here, Connor never heard of the unmaking threat and thought it wasn’t a huge pressing issue. Actually seeing an unmade beast in person changed his mind fast. The creatures were unmistakably terrifying at least to a man like him. Now that he’d seen and fought against these monsters for possibly the biggest battle he’s seen since Dante's Abyss began.
If the underground tunnels of the Necropolis were anything to gawk at, Connor had his own approach to things. While the unmaking backups slowly moved, Connor eyed the other General nearby, “Stinky Marine” who, true to his name, hoped the other marine had the same ideas as him.
Connor trained his men in a different method, one he constantly used at home to overrun and overwhelm the enemy at the time which was terminators. Terminators were slow and bulky but he wondered if the same tactics would work with the unmade here.
Connor was silent, he moved his head toward any possible hiding spot his soldiers could get to while the unmade army was still moving. His men understood Connor’s and the Stinky Marine’s head movements and pushed them behind whatever barrier or items they could find to shoot behind.
As they bent down and looked for their targets, some of Connor’s men started to shoot at the unmade targets, not only from one angle but all over the area, trying to overwhelm the unmade targets advancing.
Connor yelled “DOWN!”
As everyone followed suit, so did the two Generals.
Connor pressed on the men forward along with Stinky Marine, which Connor preferred to call the odd marine something much more fitting “Fox.”
They kept behind their areas, and kept quiet, and kept shooting from their secret locations.
Last edited:
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What was left of the miniskirt armada looked to Dr. Swift for instructions as he yelled “Hold the wall, Keep them busy!”. Dr Swift at least had protection so he could keep the unmade at bay for now. The miniskirts inside were indeed pulling down the fortress door so that Dr Swift’s forces and Connor and the Stinky Marine’s forces could keep moving toward the inside of the strange and somewhat terrifying looking fortress.
As the bullets rained through the air, the Terminator miniskirt armada kept moving, getting down and shooting the unmade when they found an area to make their move.
The unmade were annoying and horrifying to look at as the mixed battle raged.
Once a path was carved in the unmade threat, Dr. Swift started to run inside while the closest soldiers followed the man toward the falling door. Bullets rained from the Terminator miniskirt armada as the gate from the inside of the fortress finally fell.
The men quickly joined the others on the inside, making this an inside battle now.
As the soldiers quickly filled inside, once they were inside, they were greeted with the sight of the horrifying unmade for the first time since beginning this Dante’s Comet.
The soldiers continued pushing forward, eventually shooting the unmade and moving behind a barrier or object, using what they could as cover before pushing forward again.
Connor was tempted to push forward with his men only to stop himself. It was important to survive here.
Between the chaos of unmade falling, screams of pain and dying, and orders being yelled out, someone outside the war would wonder what was going on.
Inside the climbing tower, monsters started to rush soldiers shooting at them.
Some stayed and fought, while others bent down from their posts and started firing from all sides of the unmade threat. As one soldier got fired upon, the next one watched as their best buddy got killed by an unmade menace.
The weeping soldier growled and yelled to the others “ONWARD! We Can’t let everyone down here!”
Dr Swift eyed the Smelly Marine and General Connor who was pacing from the back.
Dr Swift looked up at Connor and said “HOW LONG WILL IT TAKE TO DESTROY THIS PLACE!”
Connor yelled, keeping himself steady in case an unmade broke through the front lines.
“HOLD THEM! Don’t let all we worked for be in vain!”
As soldiers struggled to push through the lines, some watched their buddies die in their arms while others fought in anger for their commanders.
As the bullets rained through the air, the Terminator miniskirt armada kept moving, getting down and shooting the unmade when they found an area to make their move.
The unmade were annoying and horrifying to look at as the mixed battle raged.
Once a path was carved in the unmade threat, Dr. Swift started to run inside while the closest soldiers followed the man toward the falling door. Bullets rained from the Terminator miniskirt armada as the gate from the inside of the fortress finally fell.
The men quickly joined the others on the inside, making this an inside battle now.
As the soldiers quickly filled inside, once they were inside, they were greeted with the sight of the horrifying unmade for the first time since beginning this Dante’s Comet.
The soldiers continued pushing forward, eventually shooting the unmade and moving behind a barrier or object, using what they could as cover before pushing forward again.
Connor was tempted to push forward with his men only to stop himself. It was important to survive here.
Between the chaos of unmade falling, screams of pain and dying, and orders being yelled out, someone outside the war would wonder what was going on.
Inside the climbing tower, monsters started to rush soldiers shooting at them.
Some stayed and fought, while others bent down from their posts and started firing from all sides of the unmade threat. As one soldier got fired upon, the next one watched as their best buddy got killed by an unmade menace.
The weeping soldier growled and yelled to the others “ONWARD! We Can’t let everyone down here!”
Dr Swift eyed the Smelly Marine and General Connor who was pacing from the back.
Dr Swift looked up at Connor and said “HOW LONG WILL IT TAKE TO DESTROY THIS PLACE!”
Connor yelled, keeping himself steady in case an unmade broke through the front lines.
“HOLD THEM! Don’t let all we worked for be in vain!”
As soldiers struggled to push through the lines, some watched their buddies die in their arms while others fought in anger for their commanders.
Battle Updates
Azula, Stheno, and 75 soldiers have entered the battle as the coalition forces push into the Fortress proper. Fighting remains intense on all fronts.
Battle will update (and feasibly be resolved) in 23 hours so post if that's in your plans <3
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Fortress Briggs was gone, and that could only mean one of two things: one, Dr. Swift and his forces had been overtaken by the unmade horde, or they were fucking up to something.
Stheno had been the first to spot the tracks heading north. The seventy-five-ish Burning Legion devotees who’d sought them out in the forest — and, after suitable begging and ceremonial burning of their blue Miniskirt uniforms, been accepted back into Azula’s trusted circle — scoured the area for signs of struggle, and from what they could tell, no obvious ones made themselves known. So they’d moved out of their own accord, then, and apparently directly into unmade territory. Azula would give the polite doctor credit: she hadn’t expected him to have the stuff to march directly into battle with the monsters to the north. Perhaps he’d found something in his examination of Dark Duck that made him feel like he had the edge, or perhaps he’d made a secret deal that gave him more confidence. Either way, he and Azula remained co-commanders, whether he liked it or not, and so any discoveries he’d made belonged equally to her, as well.
And she’d come to collect.
Fortress Babel burst from the ground like a leaning tower of pitifulness, lopsided and broken and fully unkempt. The fire princess would admit, the unmade certainly were well aware of their own slipshod aesthetic. She wouldn’t be caught dead building a fortress this precarious.
So precarious, it seemed, that Swift and the Babylonian forces had already pressed inside. The doctor cowered behind a bit of cover, watching as the newly minted Babylonian General John Connor pressed forward through the gates with his contingency of men.
“HOW LONG WILL IT TAKE TO DESTROY THIS PLACE?!” Swift shouted, leaning out from his cover and shoddily aiming his flamethrower at an oncoming twisted golem.
“HOLD THEM!” Connor yelled back. “Don’t let all we’ve worked for be in vain!”
The good doctor swung back toward the oncoming unmade monstrosity and let out a battle cry as he went to squeeze the trigger. Before he could, a jet of blue flame coursed in just above his head and engulfed the beast, which went howling to the ground as its limbs started to incinerate. He glanced down at his weapons, his lips forming the words ‘I didn’t shoot’ as a young girl touched down before him, boots hitting the stony floor of the unmade fortress with a resounding clack.
His eyes went wide as Azula stood, turned towards him, and smiled. “Bet you thought you’d seen the last of me,” she chuckled.
“You,” Swift started. “You’re supposed to be—”
“Dead?” the fire princess smirked. “Not hardly. Actually, feeling better than ever.”
“Azula,” Connor called out from just across the courtyard. “What are you doing here?!”
Azula spun around, brushing away from Dr. Swift and planting herself in the center of the action. She glanced over at Connor with a smile. “Helping you, obviously.”
A bastion of unmade burst from within the nearby buildings, breaking through boarded up windows and splintering across the limestone floor of the courtyard as they swarmed toward Azula, as of yet entering the battlefield totally alone. The Princess-Commander of the Burning Legion rolled her eyes, pushing off the ground and flipping into the air above the horde of ugly monsters. She pushed a palm out in front of her, then swept it in a circle above the heads of the beasts, releasing a torrent of sapphire fire unlike any attack John Connor had ever seen her execute. It swept across the monsters, engulfing them in flame. Not all of them perished, but at the very least, anyone in the teenage tyrant’s immediate radius got a little torched.
Azula landed amidst the cabal of beasts and felt one of the aflame creatures smash into her stomach, knocking her back. She let herself slide completely to the ground and watched as the monster barreled over her, just slow enough for her to reach out, grab its ankle, and send a lightning bolt coursing up its leg and straight through the rest of its body. It seized madly before finally going limp, leaving the princess a moment to push herself back to her feet.
“Azula,” the meek voice of Dr. Swift trembled behind her.
“Save it, Research-Commander,” the teenager scoffed. “I’m not here for pleasantries, yet. I’m here to kill these abominations. Don’t you have your priorities straight? We’ll chat when the monsters are all annihilated.”
It wasn’t a question, or a request.
It was an order from someone who’d yet to let anyone wrench her power from her.
Not this day.
“Legion!” she called. “Move in.”
As if on cue, out of the woodwork of Fortress Babel, a small slew of spies and assassins, draped in the black fatigues they’d worn beneath their blue Miniskirt coats, emerged with Stheno and spread out into the unmade fortress. Azula turned to Swift.
“Say hello to the Burning Legion,” she grinned, then turned and sprinted further into the Fortress before anyone could say anything else.
Stheno had been the first to spot the tracks heading north. The seventy-five-ish Burning Legion devotees who’d sought them out in the forest — and, after suitable begging and ceremonial burning of their blue Miniskirt uniforms, been accepted back into Azula’s trusted circle — scoured the area for signs of struggle, and from what they could tell, no obvious ones made themselves known. So they’d moved out of their own accord, then, and apparently directly into unmade territory. Azula would give the polite doctor credit: she hadn’t expected him to have the stuff to march directly into battle with the monsters to the north. Perhaps he’d found something in his examination of Dark Duck that made him feel like he had the edge, or perhaps he’d made a secret deal that gave him more confidence. Either way, he and Azula remained co-commanders, whether he liked it or not, and so any discoveries he’d made belonged equally to her, as well.
And she’d come to collect.
Fortress Babel burst from the ground like a leaning tower of pitifulness, lopsided and broken and fully unkempt. The fire princess would admit, the unmade certainly were well aware of their own slipshod aesthetic. She wouldn’t be caught dead building a fortress this precarious.
So precarious, it seemed, that Swift and the Babylonian forces had already pressed inside. The doctor cowered behind a bit of cover, watching as the newly minted Babylonian General John Connor pressed forward through the gates with his contingency of men.
“HOW LONG WILL IT TAKE TO DESTROY THIS PLACE?!” Swift shouted, leaning out from his cover and shoddily aiming his flamethrower at an oncoming twisted golem.
“HOLD THEM!” Connor yelled back. “Don’t let all we’ve worked for be in vain!”
The good doctor swung back toward the oncoming unmade monstrosity and let out a battle cry as he went to squeeze the trigger. Before he could, a jet of blue flame coursed in just above his head and engulfed the beast, which went howling to the ground as its limbs started to incinerate. He glanced down at his weapons, his lips forming the words ‘I didn’t shoot’ as a young girl touched down before him, boots hitting the stony floor of the unmade fortress with a resounding clack.
His eyes went wide as Azula stood, turned towards him, and smiled. “Bet you thought you’d seen the last of me,” she chuckled.
“You,” Swift started. “You’re supposed to be—”
“Dead?” the fire princess smirked. “Not hardly. Actually, feeling better than ever.”
“Azula,” Connor called out from just across the courtyard. “What are you doing here?!”
Azula spun around, brushing away from Dr. Swift and planting herself in the center of the action. She glanced over at Connor with a smile. “Helping you, obviously.”
A bastion of unmade burst from within the nearby buildings, breaking through boarded up windows and splintering across the limestone floor of the courtyard as they swarmed toward Azula, as of yet entering the battlefield totally alone. The Princess-Commander of the Burning Legion rolled her eyes, pushing off the ground and flipping into the air above the horde of ugly monsters. She pushed a palm out in front of her, then swept it in a circle above the heads of the beasts, releasing a torrent of sapphire fire unlike any attack John Connor had ever seen her execute. It swept across the monsters, engulfing them in flame. Not all of them perished, but at the very least, anyone in the teenage tyrant’s immediate radius got a little torched.
Azula landed amidst the cabal of beasts and felt one of the aflame creatures smash into her stomach, knocking her back. She let herself slide completely to the ground and watched as the monster barreled over her, just slow enough for her to reach out, grab its ankle, and send a lightning bolt coursing up its leg and straight through the rest of its body. It seized madly before finally going limp, leaving the princess a moment to push herself back to her feet.
“Azula,” the meek voice of Dr. Swift trembled behind her.
“Save it, Research-Commander,” the teenager scoffed. “I’m not here for pleasantries, yet. I’m here to kill these abominations. Don’t you have your priorities straight? We’ll chat when the monsters are all annihilated.”
It wasn’t a question, or a request.
It was an order from someone who’d yet to let anyone wrench her power from her.
Not this day.
“Legion!” she called. “Move in.”
As if on cue, out of the woodwork of Fortress Babel, a small slew of spies and assassins, draped in the black fatigues they’d worn beneath their blue Miniskirt coats, emerged with Stheno and spread out into the unmade fortress. Azula turned to Swift.
“Say hello to the Burning Legion,” she grinned, then turned and sprinted further into the Fortress before anyone could say anything else.
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With the new additions of the Burning Legion coming back into view, John Connor felt better about his odds in this fight against the Unmade monsters. Dr Swift at the very least was pulling his weight with the rest of the forces he had by his side.
John made sure to keep shooting and switching off magazines as empty magazines fell as he kept yelling “WE CAN DO THIS! “
Azula and her old companion he worked with just a while back had provided support at just the right time.
With a smirk, John moved just in time to let an angry Azula do what she did best. Kick some ass.
The fire princess never failed to impress sometimes, but now wasn’t the time for celebration in the middle of a war.
“MOVE! MOVE!” Connor kept yelling while doing his part to clear the beasts around him. He wasn’t sure how many times he said this now, but unmade were becoming just like terminators back in his world.
Stinky Marine kept pushing in front, flamethrowing the unmade threat.
“Don’t QUIT! KEEP THE HEAT!”
Therefore the Tech-Com Burning Heat force was born.
If the terminator wasn’t dead at this moment, he would have groaned awfully at John’s pick of a name.
Sthelo and their forces finally got their fair share of action, briefly taking time to flamethrower the unmade. The combined efforts eventually combed a finely tuned path toward the exit as the unmade forces kept shrinking.
John made sure to keep shooting and switching off magazines as empty magazines fell as he kept yelling “WE CAN DO THIS! “
Azula and her old companion he worked with just a while back had provided support at just the right time.
With a smirk, John moved just in time to let an angry Azula do what she did best. Kick some ass.
The fire princess never failed to impress sometimes, but now wasn’t the time for celebration in the middle of a war.
“MOVE! MOVE!” Connor kept yelling while doing his part to clear the beasts around him. He wasn’t sure how many times he said this now, but unmade were becoming just like terminators back in his world.
Stinky Marine kept pushing in front, flamethrowing the unmade threat.
“Don’t QUIT! KEEP THE HEAT!”
Therefore the Tech-Com Burning Heat force was born.
If the terminator wasn’t dead at this moment, he would have groaned awfully at John’s pick of a name.
Sthelo and their forces finally got their fair share of action, briefly taking time to flamethrower the unmade. The combined efforts eventually combed a finely tuned path toward the exit as the unmade forces kept shrinking.
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At some point in the battle for the fortress, the members of the Burning Legion split up and Azula found herself quite alone within the walls of the unmade stronghold.
***
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
Clock’s running down. Walls close in. Legion advances, but where does that leave her?
A twitch. Limestone walls rising around her leave a yellowish glow over the bodies of Miniskirts and Babylonians and unmades splayed out across the corridor floor. Who’s to say if they were yellow or blue or gold or red? Paint them orange. Paint them dead.
Step, step, step.
Over the bodies. Under her feet. Something rising, burning in her stomach as she searches around before she’s realized there’s nothing to kill. Nothing to choke. Nothing to maim. Nothing to break. Nothing to make dead. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Just empty, just deserted, just cowardly. BRING ME SOMETHING.
Teeth gnashing was a sound. Hers? Vision blurry but not hard to see straight. Since the girl. The teeth. The pointy teeth, the pointed words. Her name coming out of that mouth sounds like vomit, or someone vomiting? Vomit splashing on the ground, her name mangled in a vampire mouth and tangled up in the word surrender. That word is barely in our vocabulary. It wouldn’t do. It—it—it simply won’t do. One part. Sur-rend-der. Rend her body. Rend her soul. Rend her spirit. Bloodsucker sucks.
Shake your head, remember where you are. Show them who you’re meant to be.
She complied, just as the walls caved in. Look left, it’s not a cave in — it’s food. Monster with teeth. Sharp teeth, like hers. Sharp claws, like mine. Taut skin, wrinkled and gross and ready for ripping, so let’s rip. She lets it rip, nails digging into the unmade abomination’s neck. Fingers tight around it’s throat, still pink, ribbed. What was he before? Human? Or always beast?
Yank the esophagus out. Drink its wails like wine. It gurgled. Is that what she’d call it? We don’t know what to call the sound, don’t know how to name the monster’s pain. Doesn’t matter, pain is pain and she’s felt enough for her and this monster and everyone here, but everyone here still deserves their share. She’ll give it, we must. Bestow them with what you felt. Bestow them with your ache. Deep ache. Core crumbling. A planet implodes and all that’s left is a sad girl and a spark of something.
Fire.
Burn.
Blue flames leaping from her skin, sapphire fire engulfed it. Each death was more beautiful than the last. Each scream a symphony of suffering that satisfied so sweetly.
Tick, tock. Time’s running out.
Battle’s almost done.
Burn.
Spit flame from her fingertips, nails shimmering with fire. Lift the body, toss it aside. It writhed, because of course it did. Gross creatures writhe. Makes sense.
Blood would’ve spurt but it was too charred, too dead. Feet unsteady as she staggered towards dead body. Corpse finally stops trembling and she falls to her knees, lip shaking, scowls. Then the monster’s eyes snapped open and it reaches out with its disgusting, writhing claw and touches her hair. Yanks, pulls, rips, rrrrrip, tearrrrrrr—
Not your thing.
Hairs snatched from her head, a big clump, scatter on the floor. Her fist into its faces. Faces? Suddenly there’s three. They moved, they swim, she punches, hard. Break its nose. Break all their noses.
Rip out the teeth. I want the teeth.
Burn.
Floor on fire.
“Fool,” she says. “I’m the monster. It’s me.”
Teeth gnash. Floor burns. Azula screams.
“Fear us.”
***
Private Gemrick burst into the room to see his Princess-Commander standing up, the flame-engulfed floor slowly simmering to a low boil.
Azula twisted her neck, cracking it a bit on one side.
She didn’t look at Gemrick.
Don’t let them see us.
“Princess-Commander?” Gemrick asked. “You’re alone?”
She smiled. “Always am.”
Tick, tock, tick tock.
Battle’s almost done.
Burn.
***
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
Clock’s running down. Walls close in. Legion advances, but where does that leave her?
A twitch. Limestone walls rising around her leave a yellowish glow over the bodies of Miniskirts and Babylonians and unmades splayed out across the corridor floor. Who’s to say if they were yellow or blue or gold or red? Paint them orange. Paint them dead.
Step, step, step.
Over the bodies. Under her feet. Something rising, burning in her stomach as she searches around before she’s realized there’s nothing to kill. Nothing to choke. Nothing to maim. Nothing to break. Nothing to make dead. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Just empty, just deserted, just cowardly. BRING ME SOMETHING.
Teeth gnashing was a sound. Hers? Vision blurry but not hard to see straight. Since the girl. The teeth. The pointy teeth, the pointed words. Her name coming out of that mouth sounds like vomit, or someone vomiting? Vomit splashing on the ground, her name mangled in a vampire mouth and tangled up in the word surrender. That word is barely in our vocabulary. It wouldn’t do. It—it—it simply won’t do. One part. Sur-rend-der. Rend her body. Rend her soul. Rend her spirit. Bloodsucker sucks.
Shake your head, remember where you are. Show them who you’re meant to be.
She complied, just as the walls caved in. Look left, it’s not a cave in — it’s food. Monster with teeth. Sharp teeth, like hers. Sharp claws, like mine. Taut skin, wrinkled and gross and ready for ripping, so let’s rip. She lets it rip, nails digging into the unmade abomination’s neck. Fingers tight around it’s throat, still pink, ribbed. What was he before? Human? Or always beast?
Yank the esophagus out. Drink its wails like wine. It gurgled. Is that what she’d call it? We don’t know what to call the sound, don’t know how to name the monster’s pain. Doesn’t matter, pain is pain and she’s felt enough for her and this monster and everyone here, but everyone here still deserves their share. She’ll give it, we must. Bestow them with what you felt. Bestow them with your ache. Deep ache. Core crumbling. A planet implodes and all that’s left is a sad girl and a spark of something.
Fire.
Burn.
Blue flames leaping from her skin, sapphire fire engulfed it. Each death was more beautiful than the last. Each scream a symphony of suffering that satisfied so sweetly.
Tick, tock. Time’s running out.
Battle’s almost done.
Burn.
Spit flame from her fingertips, nails shimmering with fire. Lift the body, toss it aside. It writhed, because of course it did. Gross creatures writhe. Makes sense.
Blood would’ve spurt but it was too charred, too dead. Feet unsteady as she staggered towards dead body. Corpse finally stops trembling and she falls to her knees, lip shaking, scowls. Then the monster’s eyes snapped open and it reaches out with its disgusting, writhing claw and touches her hair. Yanks, pulls, rips, rrrrrip, tearrrrrrr—
Not your thing.
Hairs snatched from her head, a big clump, scatter on the floor. Her fist into its faces. Faces? Suddenly there’s three. They moved, they swim, she punches, hard. Break its nose. Break all their noses.
Rip out the teeth. I want the teeth.
Burn.
Floor on fire.
“Fool,” she says. “I’m the monster. It’s me.”
Teeth gnash. Floor burns. Azula screams.
“Fear us.”
***
Private Gemrick burst into the room to see his Princess-Commander standing up, the flame-engulfed floor slowly simmering to a low boil.
Azula twisted her neck, cracking it a bit on one side.
She didn’t look at Gemrick.
Don’t let them see us.
“Princess-Commander?” Gemrick asked. “You’re alone?”
She smiled. “Always am.”
Tick, tock, tick tock.
Battle’s almost done.
Burn.
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Connor pushed, dr swift pushed, the stinky marine pushed till the battle seemed complete. Yet, it didn’t feel like a victory he was used to.
Something was wrong.
He’d heard a scream.
Dr swift made sure it was safe before eying everyone. “What in the hell was that?!”
Connor was used to playing hero for a lot of folks these days. In a way, Connor and Azula were two different genders of the same person.
But was Connor the hero?
The terminator would be yelling to get the hell out because he just knew. But John knew he wasn’t here.
Having the weight of the world on your shoulders is a rough business.
Get her out, the resistance leader voice said
John gritted his teeth and waved his hand. There were a lot of hard choices here. Could he save her? Or was she lost…
He couldn’t cry here .
Something was wrong.
He’d heard a scream.
Dr swift made sure it was safe before eying everyone. “What in the hell was that?!”
Connor was used to playing hero for a lot of folks these days. In a way, Connor and Azula were two different genders of the same person.
But was Connor the hero?
The terminator would be yelling to get the hell out because he just knew. But John knew he wasn’t here.
Having the weight of the world on your shoulders is a rough business.
Get her out, the resistance leader voice said
John gritted his teeth and waved his hand. There were a lot of hard choices here. Could he save her? Or was she lost…
He couldn’t cry here .
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“GAHAHAHAHAHA!” Stheno cackled maniacally as she practically hurled herself through the corridors, the most hardened of their scrappy army following after her, the roar of their battlecry rising above the din of battle. Ladon was already in her hand, it’s blade glinting menacing in the faint light as it trailed behind her, its cruel edge poised to cleave apart the unmade hoard.
“FINALLY! FINALLY!” The gorgon howled, practically on the edge of euphoria. Crashing against the enemy, the warrior hopped towards her foes before digging her heels in, bringing the full weight of her machete around in a wide arc before cleaving apart the torso of what was once a human but now possessed far too many limbs. The beast exploded into a fountain of gore as Ladon tore its way through it's unmade form, showering the berserker in blood as she threw her head back, laughing wickedly. “You can’t hide from me anymore!”
Shambling forward, an unmade warrior brought a fleshy, bladed appendage down towards his brutal foe, only for Stheno to bat the blow aside and respond by plunging Ladon into his abdomen. Impaled but still struggling, the warped soldier could do little to free himself from the jagged edge of the machete. Attempting to free him, the gorgon gripped the hilt tightly before swinging into the crowd of unmade soldiers before her. Through slashing and bludgeoning alike, the mutant cut a bloody swath through the halls of the tower, but the stuck soldier stubbornly refused to come free from her weapon.
“Alright, come on.” She grunted, lifting her boot and pressing it against the chest of the soldier. Growling, she pushed with all her might, slowly forcing him off. As Stheno dragged the blade out, the unfortunate creature’s innards snagged on the ragged blade of Ladon, doing their best to stop the shift from internal to external organs. Against the gorgon’s bio-arcane might, however, the effort was futile. With one last grunt, the warrior pulled her blade free, sending organs showering over the nearby soldiers. Grinning, the berserker let out a sigh before turning back to the mass of unmade, grinning wickedly. “Phew… now, where were we?”
“FINALLY! FINALLY!” The gorgon howled, practically on the edge of euphoria. Crashing against the enemy, the warrior hopped towards her foes before digging her heels in, bringing the full weight of her machete around in a wide arc before cleaving apart the torso of what was once a human but now possessed far too many limbs. The beast exploded into a fountain of gore as Ladon tore its way through it's unmade form, showering the berserker in blood as she threw her head back, laughing wickedly. “You can’t hide from me anymore!”
Shambling forward, an unmade warrior brought a fleshy, bladed appendage down towards his brutal foe, only for Stheno to bat the blow aside and respond by plunging Ladon into his abdomen. Impaled but still struggling, the warped soldier could do little to free himself from the jagged edge of the machete. Attempting to free him, the gorgon gripped the hilt tightly before swinging into the crowd of unmade soldiers before her. Through slashing and bludgeoning alike, the mutant cut a bloody swath through the halls of the tower, but the stuck soldier stubbornly refused to come free from her weapon.
“Alright, come on.” She grunted, lifting her boot and pressing it against the chest of the soldier. Growling, she pushed with all her might, slowly forcing him off. As Stheno dragged the blade out, the unfortunate creature’s innards snagged on the ragged blade of Ladon, doing their best to stop the shift from internal to external organs. Against the gorgon’s bio-arcane might, however, the effort was futile. With one last grunt, the warrior pulled her blade free, sending organs showering over the nearby soldiers. Grinning, the berserker let out a sigh before turning back to the mass of unmade, grinning wickedly. “Phew… now, where were we?”
Face to Face
Fortress Babel vs “The (Varied) Artists Formerly Known as the Miniskirt Armada”
Fortress Babel vs “The (Varied) Artists Formerly Known as the Miniskirt Armada”
In an alternate timeline, everyone in this siege was dressed in blue, and they were at the forefront of a heroic army that had succeeded in sweeping the unmade from the island within a few weeks of their arrival at a still-pristine Caer Thannith. In this best timeline, Roy Mustang, a satiated-by-violence-and-victory tandem of Gilgamesh and Azula, and all their allies steamrolled across a fatigue, shellshocked, and utterly underprepared host of unmade villains.
As Dante’s Abyss will teach you, the real story usually unfolds a few shades about the darkest timeline.
In reality, the army that scoured through the twisting corridors of Fortress Babel wore a menagerie of colors—blue, black, yellow, and it was likely that at least one or two probably wore green at one point.
Led by a man who made a living fighting impossible odds and superior adversaries, the attack into the structure progressed about as well as it could have.
Perhaps, too well.
John Connor ducked behind the wall, waited for the spatter of energized bullets to stop, and casually popped up to return fire. Someone who was used to the odds never being in his favor, the resistance leader didn’t particularly enjoy how this battle had progressed. Yes, the Doctor had managed to infiltrate the place prior to the attack, but surely, that should have lionized the unmade, correct? The fighting outside had almost felt halfhearted, and while Connor knew that the monsters were experiencing setbacks in other places on the island, he doubted such creatures were still wired to process apathy or grief.
Reaching for his short-range comm, the general mashed the button. “Hey, I’m not liking what’s going on.”
“Do you require reinforcements?” The metal marine was straight to the point, as always.
“Doesn’t this feel too easy?”
“The creatures are broken. They wilt beneath our steel.”
***
From outside the complex, Dr. Swift stood in a command tent and relayed instructions across to the various units spread out within the labyrinthine complex that was Babel. He had figured that it would be tricky to navigate through the fortress, but he hadn’t expected the place to be a literal madhouse of mobius loops, Penrose stairs, and even an assortment of shifting corridors that connected to different parts of the structure from minute to minute.
In a sense, it was almost as if the unmade were the least of their worries as the forces scoured through the structure.
Dr. Swift continued to have doubts about the operation all the way until the first explosions blossomed within the fortress. The first one took him by shock, and he was certain it was just a cannon detonating after being struck with an errant explosive. Or, perhaps, it was an ammunition store being ignited after a stray bullet found its mark.
And then that one blast was joined by two more, then four more, and then the blast was a writhing, serpentine herald of death and destruction that spread across the entirety of the structure.
“They goaded us in!” Dr. Swift screamed as he started to make a beeline from the tent to the fortress proper.
“Get down, Sir!” Someone shouted as two of his aides tackled him as debris from the imploded structure started to rain down on their encampment.
***
Fortress Babel, smog still dense in the air, was gone. In its place, a literal cairn that still smoldered as those caught beneath and within the collapse of the structure struggled to free themselves.
Stheno, who had dove through a window at one of the last moments before the corridor they were cleaning had been consumed by flames, stumbled through the haze. While spared initially, the ‘descent’ to the ground and attempting to escape the ring of debris had left the warrior with a litany of scrapes and bruises.
Now, with the air still heavy with soot and the screams of the dying, Stheno stalked the debris, looking for something.
Almost ready to turn back, Stheno was startled when a scalded fist erupted out from beneath a pile of charred bricks.
***
Battle Update
Battle Update
Fortress Babel has been destroyed, owing to the besieging forces and the detonation of the structure by the unmade forces. The square goes to the coalition forces led by Dr. Swift.
Casualty Reports
Unmade Carnaval: All unmade forces have been slain or destroyed/buried with the fortress
TAFKA Miniskirt Armada Forces:
All injuries, unless otherwise noted, are from being caught in the explosion (so some combination of burns, cuts, bruises, and/or simply being buried or struck by debris).
300 of Dr. Swift’s soldiers and 100 of his refugee-militia are dead.
Dr. Swift suffers a Story Injury (fucking dude had to watch his boys get blown up – the fuck you think he feels?)
400 of John Connor’s soldiers are dead.
John Connor suffers a Major Injury
Smelly Marine suffers a Major Injury
Sgt Swift suffers a Major Injury
75 of Azula’s soldiers are dead.
Azula suffers a Major Injury
Stheno suffers a Minor Injury
Stheno was pressured into using on application of Focus.
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"Ay gurl."
Azula and Stheno sat by their campire, wordlessly contemplating their intertwined plight when Elise stepped into the ring of their fire.
A silent beat passed through the rubble-strewn clearing. Elise's hands twitched, and both of the wounded warriors were immediately on their feet.
"Whoa...easy. Just here to extend an invitation. You two girls wanna...do somethin' crazy?"
Azula and Stheno sat by their campire, wordlessly contemplating their intertwined plight when Elise stepped into the ring of their fire.
A silent beat passed through the rubble-strewn clearing. Elise's hands twitched, and both of the wounded warriors were immediately on their feet.
"Whoa...easy. Just here to extend an invitation. You two girls wanna...do somethin' crazy?"
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Azula and Stheno had been sitting in the ruins of Fortress Babel for almost a day when Elise came upon them. For most of that day, Azula had said nothing as she ceremoniously burned the body of every Burning Legion soldier she and the mercenary could dig up from the rubble. Stheno made little effort to break her commander from her trance — she knew the game was over for them, and knew no one hated that more than the fire princess.
When the vampire arrived, then, the gorgon was surprised to see that the teenage tyrant, now with nothing left to lose, didn’t immediately snap to violence. She stood, but didn’t face Elise — she simply stared at the smoldering body of Private Gemrick, unmoving. A statue.
Stheno pressed towards the group, prompting Elise to hurry her proposal along.
Azula lifted a hand and extended two fingers, sparks crackling around her nails. Finally, she lifted her eyes from the first soldier on this island and moved them to the woman, she knew, would be one of the last.
“Stheno,” the Princess-Commander spat, “tell the bloodsucker she’s got two minutes of my time before I kill her and all her friends.”
When the vampire arrived, then, the gorgon was surprised to see that the teenage tyrant, now with nothing left to lose, didn’t immediately snap to violence. She stood, but didn’t face Elise — she simply stared at the smoldering body of Private Gemrick, unmoving. A statue.
Stheno pressed towards the group, prompting Elise to hurry her proposal along.
Azula lifted a hand and extended two fingers, sparks crackling around her nails. Finally, she lifted her eyes from the first soldier on this island and moved them to the woman, she knew, would be one of the last.
“Stheno,” the Princess-Commander spat, “tell the bloodsucker she’s got two minutes of my time before I kill her and all her friends.”
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Sitting and thinking, Stheno had been mulling over the event in her head. She had survived, certainly, which was always a good thing. But at the same time, she had barely done her job. All but one of the people she considered allies were dead or had turned on her, all but one of her battles had been a one-sided slaughter, and the one proper fight she had lasted but minutes. No matter how she spun it, she hadn’t put on the display that she had promised her client. Not only had her time there been boring, but she definitely wasn’t about to be getting her bonus.
Her melancholy attitude had remained, a grey cloud settling over her until Elise had arrived with her proposition. The gorgon briefly clenched her teeth as she saw the vampire approach, but quickly relaxed. What was the point of getting mad at this stage? Still, she felt committed enough to keep up the harass bodyguard act, at least for now.
“You heard her.” She growled, crossing her arms, though her attitude was notably less passionate than it had been earlier in the competition, almost as if it were just a formality. Elise had never seemed particularly intimidated by Stheno’s presence, but even if she had been, she likely wouldn’t have been anymore. It certainly wasn’t aided by the fact that the odds of the two of them making good on Azula’s threat were rather low. The only thing she still was hanging onto was the hope that the vampire may actually provide her with something exciting. “Let’s hear it.”
Her melancholy attitude had remained, a grey cloud settling over her until Elise had arrived with her proposition. The gorgon briefly clenched her teeth as she saw the vampire approach, but quickly relaxed. What was the point of getting mad at this stage? Still, she felt committed enough to keep up the harass bodyguard act, at least for now.
“You heard her.” She growled, crossing her arms, though her attitude was notably less passionate than it had been earlier in the competition, almost as if it were just a formality. Elise had never seemed particularly intimidated by Stheno’s presence, but even if she had been, she likely wouldn’t have been anymore. It certainly wasn’t aided by the fact that the odds of the two of them making good on Azula’s threat were rather low. The only thing she still was hanging onto was the hope that the vampire may actually provide her with something exciting. “Let’s hear it.”
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"Uh huh."
You and what army?
...Is what Elise wanted to say, but she actually wanted Azula to play ball here, and the situation didn't need any fresh antagonism. Elise eyed Stheno as the blindfolded mercenary approached, weapon drawn. The vampire offered a very dangerous, very small shake of the head. Just don't.
"Looks like the game's wrapping up. Trust me, we're also a bit blue balled. Been combing around the tower for days looking for clowns to kill. Revenge and all that." Elise scoffed. Azula remained frozen.
"Tragic." the princess dripped. Stheno held up a single pointer finger. One minute left.
"Whatever. You wanna go knock over Gilgamesh's castle? That boy deserves a whuppin' for a lot of things." Elise said in a flat tone. The faces of Takil and her twins flashed through her memory; vivid and painful. Were they alright? Probably not.
At that exact moment, all of the contestants' collars began blinking. Cold, blue light sparkled across the damaged, worn name bedazzled on Elise's own device as Karl Jak's voice rang out in horrible, overlaying multitude.
"The Hell Divers have surrendered to Babylonia. That's game, kids! Let me know if you're still hungry for blood."
Azula snorted angrily, and her hand abruptly ignited into hovering wisps of blue anger.
"So much for your invitation." she seethed. Elise snapped her finger and waved it as Stheno raised her rifle.
"Uh uh. Remember when I told you to think about what happens after the game? I told Gilly somethin' similar. This game might be over, but boy still has a castle." Elise said. She couldn't help but bloom into a wicked grin.
A final, quiet moment passed. Azula glanced over her shoulder at the smiling wizard...
You and what army?
...Is what Elise wanted to say, but she actually wanted Azula to play ball here, and the situation didn't need any fresh antagonism. Elise eyed Stheno as the blindfolded mercenary approached, weapon drawn. The vampire offered a very dangerous, very small shake of the head. Just don't.
"Looks like the game's wrapping up. Trust me, we're also a bit blue balled. Been combing around the tower for days looking for clowns to kill. Revenge and all that." Elise scoffed. Azula remained frozen.
"Tragic." the princess dripped. Stheno held up a single pointer finger. One minute left.
"Whatever. You wanna go knock over Gilgamesh's castle? That boy deserves a whuppin' for a lot of things." Elise said in a flat tone. The faces of Takil and her twins flashed through her memory; vivid and painful. Were they alright? Probably not.
At that exact moment, all of the contestants' collars began blinking. Cold, blue light sparkled across the damaged, worn name bedazzled on Elise's own device as Karl Jak's voice rang out in horrible, overlaying multitude.
"The Hell Divers have surrendered to Babylonia. That's game, kids! Let me know if you're still hungry for blood."
Azula snorted angrily, and her hand abruptly ignited into hovering wisps of blue anger.
"So much for your invitation." she seethed. Elise snapped her finger and waved it as Stheno raised her rifle.
"Uh uh. Remember when I told you to think about what happens after the game? I told Gilly somethin' similar. This game might be over, but boy still has a castle." Elise said. She couldn't help but bloom into a wicked grin.
A final, quiet moment passed. Azula glanced over her shoulder at the smiling wizard...
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