Quoted By:
Subject Acolyte tries to rally the horde of Kronin Ripthings engaged in grand battle with the Guardian of the Bulb's secret Sanctum! And as the heady scents of chemical communication fills the heating interior of the Southwest Processing Core, it looks - for a faint heartbeat -as if the Kronin are winning, the Guardian breaking, burning, battered, bruised, gripped and ripped -- and then, a clear voice resounds from the automated climate control systems:
Temperature Gradiant Exceeded
Sealing Room
Proceeding To Dump Coolant
Acolyte gasps and tries to throw herself backwards but so enmeshed in the dance and song of the glorious pheremones her reactions are slowed, sluggish -- the enormous class one security doors come down like the severing of the threads of fate.
The room falls to darkness.
We do not know what transpires within.
--
Everett tries to ride the Sp(r)iteSpider, but it bucks and rolls and kicks and twists and the Subject is sent flying, though, luckily, for a soft landing. NeoGenesis scrambles to their feet to move move move because this is a BAD PLACE to BE!
--
Chimera takes a leap of faith and breaks new ground, landing in a part of the facility where the Mesh is alive, electronics sing, the soft chatter of security officers roll down the halls, the beep of scanners, the hustle and bustle, a distant, faint... cough? Well there is a lot of that going around.
--
Amelius performs some forensic theology. Some sort of small tribal sprite, or protective spirit. They always have limited power and more limited portfolios but delusions of grandeurs. Treat them nice and they offer gifts to you, though their power is much less grand than it appears and the people who follow such a little speck of otherworldy influence are likely to use it to ascribe events both good and ill.
--
Sundae lines up a shot but a sudden swing of a club forces him to duck backwards and the pistol goes flying. Into the enemy ranks! Let's hope none of them know how to use firearms!
Conveniently, in that very moment, reinforcements arrive to form a new shield wall as he shouts for the team to take a breather.
--
Bubba watches twenty-three enormous orange occular organs unfurl with slick, slurping grace from the fleshy exterior of the roots that hold up the elevator-home high above. The vines and roots underneath his feet pulse and ripple. Some move. The ground begins to have faint cracks.
--
>STAND BY FOR TOTAL GODDAMN CALAMITY
>YES WILDER, WE SEE YOU
