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originally posted in:The New Dojo
11/29/2016 6:34:18 AM
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[i]"Eat... Fūck if that will be hard. Cooked shit work?"[/i]
[b]Damien wasn't into raw meals. He gave a sarcastic smirk as he ran three metal fingers through his hair. He needed to know if a beef patty would do anything, or... If he had to eat animals raw.[/b]
English
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Lucien began to lose the tenseness in his shoulders as Lordan was starting to regain his senses. "Cooked meals will indeed work. But upon the battlefield you must be prepared to devour any type of meat for the sake of your survival. So what shall you do now? I have given you an accursed life to live, yet it is life nonetheless. Where shall your wandering take you?"
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[i]"Does it matter...? Hell, if we were friends, you still wouldn't bare up my sins. Now piss off... I need medicine."[/i] [b]He was an angry sort, easily disturbed, but just like the bear prodded with the stick, Damien's circumstances would make anyone unhappy.[/b] [b]With a groan, he sat up, peeling the blanket off, wrapping it around his right arm thoroughly to hide it. The black metal had a glossy sheen that seemed foreign and complex. Whatever the arm was... It was a weapon... One that Lucien wasn't supposed to see. In all likelihood, his foul attitude wouldn't change... Not with so much on his mind... But right now, he wanted some payback... Assuming he could find his gear.[/b] [i]"Everything is bullshit... Might as well become a pyromaniac so I have a reason to burn it all."[/i] [b]He grumbled, getting to his feet as his long tongue slipped out and slithered across his face, wiping away the dirt and grime. Then with a flick, it slipped back down his throat, his lower metal jaw now glimmering with a special sheen after the rinse.[/b] [i]"Actually... You wouldn't happen to have some smokes on you?"[/i] [b]Damien's cravings were always in the back of his mind, hell, sometimes in the front too... But right now, he wanted a cigarette, and a hard glass of whiskey. Besides, Lucien looked like the type to carry smokes. Damien sure as hell knew Ian didn't...[/b]
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Lucien rummaged through one of his bandoliers before bringing out a faded box of unidentifiable cigarettes, taking one out and handing it to Damien before offering him the entire box. "Keep it all. This was confiscated contraband from where I'm from, making it quite the bargaining chip. However there is no use for such a trade item here in the Dojo, so I shall allow you to take it. I have another offer, Mr. Lordan. A development I have only recently heard of... Another galaxy in a faraway place full of varying factions and new resources. I have consulted a few others about this interest of mine, but I am quite curious in such an opportunity. I was hoping you would be too. You're quite the esteemed scientist, are you not?"
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[i]"Was... And who's telling you this shit...? I erased all my files and burned every certificate."[/i] [b]With a hard stare, Damien takes the box, snapping his fingers till a small flame burst forth from the tip, pulling on of the cigarettes out. With a quick light, and a snort, he placed the paper roll in between his metal jaw and upper lip, a puff of smoke soon following.[/b] [i]"I drank away most of my smarts. What's left is shattered and vacant. I'd have to do some soul searching to find all the damn info that washed away by a dry gulp."[/i]
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"A small girl named Lana told me of some of your exploits. As did Ronin, whom I've heard has had some firsthand experience against your technology. You've lost your drive, Lordan. I'm offering you a chance to find it once more. You can other waste the rest of your accursed life drinking away, but if that is to be the case, your friend," he said as he gestured to Ian, "would have wasted his time and I would've wasted a valuable resource on reviving you. If you waste your intelligence away in some bar make no mistake that I will return for my asset. And I will take it back, piece by piece. I am not forcing you to join. But at the very least do not waste such potential away on a bottle of alcohol," Lucien states flatly. He did not seem all too bothered by the smoke at all. Judging from the gas mask clipped to his belt, it was safe to assume that this man was indeed some sort of pyromaniac.
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[i]"Lana? Sellout... May is no surprise. Can't get shit past that hardass."[/i] [b]Lucien had a point, and Damien hated when people had a point... Mostly when they weren't him. But he wasn't lying. 'The Prodigy of Warfare' had long since died, alcohol and drug abuse washing away plenty of Lordan's old thoughts.[/b] [i]"Your faith is deceiving you... But what the hell, right? I've got nothing left besides my family... But it's not on me if I don't meet expectations."[/i] [b]With a huff, and a stretch of the arms, Damien looked up towards the sky, realizing he'd need his brother... Hell, he needed his daughter...[/b]
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"I suppose I'll be seeing you then." Lucien turns and prepares to walk away, before stopping and facing Damien once more. "I also recommend not divulging your origins there. Let us just say some of the other beings may have an over-convoluted reason as to why we should not exist. Don't ask, just work with it." He begins to walk away, taking his maintenance equipment and disappearing down the forest path leaving Damien to his own thoughts. [spoiler]End?[/spoiler]
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[i]"Grand..."[/i] [b]Damien mumbled as he watched Lucien go... With a blast of smoke and a wince, Damien fumbled around his armor plating until a blast of steam signaled a massive pressure release, his shoulders relaxing as the pain began to subside slightly. He really needed that Neuropozyne.[/b] [b]He swiveled towards Ian, luckily sheltered by the plating, though he'd probably still do the same thing if he was actually naked.[/b] [i]"Fill me in... You can speak non-dictionary old English."[/i] [b]He gave Ian a slight nod as he stood there, posture more slouched than usual. Looked like his muscles ached.[/b]
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"I'm sorry D.." [i] Ian said quietly, and he truly sounded regretful. He hadn't wanted to bring Damien back like this, but a mutated Damien was better than no Damien at all.[/i] "Lance told me Lucien could bring you back, after Creed and Salem got to you. They killed half of Omicron, and Creed.." [i] Ian said, his voice actually showing a hint of fear for once.[/i] "He's something else man." "You were a box of organs and slush after he was done with you, and Lucien brought you back after infecting you with some kind of virus."
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[i]"Slush... Sounds like a fun time. Well, guess I owe you one. Owe you more than a lunch at least."[/i] [b]With half a grin, Damien rubbed his left shoulder, looking around. Lucien, eh? His brother's name... Classical and divine. The guy seemed like a real mad chemist.[/b] [i]"Well, with Omicron gone... I'll need backup. I'm calling it in. I need Nikki and Lucky down here."[/i] [b]Damien always had nicknames, Lucky was what he had given Lucien, after the chemical accident years back.[/b]
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"Silence is in hiding..I think. But Glitch, Saber, Creed dealt with them in a matter of seconds." [i] Ian says, a shiver crawling down his spine. He'd seen the aftermath..they hadn't put up much of a fight.[/i] "It'll be good to see Lucien and Nikki again though. It's been a while." [i] Ian says with a forced smile. He was happy, truly, but it was just a hard time to be happy in. [/i]
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[i]"I just need their bodies. I can fix them. I still need my family... That means you to. It's not my place, but I'm ordering you to never engage Creed. For the sake of it... He'll go out burning himself."[/i] [b]Damien shrugged and began to walk forward, his sense of direction telling him to return to the desert. He needed his gear... And luckily... He had hid it.[/b] [i]"Let's go call them, and get my shit... I'm sure you'd love to see my daughter most."[/i] [b]Damien wasn't an idiot, and he was blunt. He paid attention enough to Ian, and his surroundings. Just because he looked stupid and acted stupid... Wait... No he was stupid. But he still had eyes.[/b]
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"Too late for that." [i] He muttered under his breath. He had already engaged Creed in a fit of rage and damn..did he wish he hadn't. The man was a freak of nature. Or, a freak of mechanization. Ian's face flushed red at Damien's remark, not commenting on it but shoving his hands in the pockets of his armor and walking along side Damien.[/i] "Yeah yeah." [i] He mumbles. [/i]
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[b]Damien wasn't a fast walker, and it was a good hour of hard sweat and achy feet till they even reach the desert, then another hot and lethargic hour to reach the burnt ashes of the camp. Most everything was gone... Now... Even the bodies...[/b] [i]"Home fūcking sweet home..."[/i] [b]The previous walk had been one of silent anxiety. Damien had been dead silent except for an occasional pained gasp... He was obviously hurting, but worried at the same time.[/b] [b]Now, he stood at the edge of his camp with a scowl, padding through the burnt and upturned debris, eventually finding a half melted metal crate, eventually pulling out a large canister.[/b] [b]And then... He opened the lid and began to pour bright blue and white pills down his throat. Dozens at a time, more than necessary... But he needed it... The augments caused intense pain, and Neuropozyne stopped such things.[/b] [b]After chugging the contents of the canister (as well as scattering a few dozen pills), Damien looked around, folding his arms as he stood like a tired drug addict... Even if he wasn't addicted.[/b] [i]"Hey, do me a favor and look for a radio. I had one buried near our old tent. It may still work. I need to dig up my suit."[/i]
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[i] Ian nodded, walking to where the old tent had been, simply burnt scraps of cloth now. He knelt in the sand and rifled through the surrounding area with his gloved hands for several minutes, eventually finding the moderately sized radio in the sand. Standing back up, he walked back over to Damien and tossed it to him.[/i]
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[b]Damien caught the device with his wrapped metal arm, setting it down carefully as he moved off towards a pile of rocks. The radio was intact, if not old school and slightly rusted. Plus, it smelled like ash... But Damien had few options.[/b] [i]"The tank isn't here... Salem took it."[/i] [b]Damien remarked, noticing the lack of the Type 4 Heavy Mamba Tank. Oh well.[/b] [b]Quickly moving the rocks, Damien began to scoop up heaps of dirt until he pulled out a large metal box. Flipping the lid, he sighed contentedly at the stock of all his gear. His armor, swords, daggers, sniper, rifle, sidearms... Even his explosive and experimental equipment... And moments later, with eagerness, Damien wasn't in his suit of armor, helmet folded back as he attached his weapons.[/b] [b]With his pain gone, and his personal belongings recovered, he stood tall and proud, like a lion to a pride. Happy Lordan as a good Lordan.[/b] [i]"Like stepping back in time to when I still was human..."[/i] [b]A joke, of course, but if anything, he was right. The tall man was less human than most... And that wasn't just counting his life problems.[/b]
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[i] Ian grinned as he sat down on a large boulder and made himself busy by twirling the cherry handled Bowie knife he owned around in his palm.[/i] "Wouldn't have it any other way D." [i] And it's true, Ian liked Damien. As weird, crazy, enigmatic, and absurd he was, he'd take a bullet for the guy. [/i]
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[b]Damien returned to the compact radio a moment later, running a hand through his hair to push out all the sand and did stuck in the blonde folds. Oddly, when he started dialing, an amused grin passed across his face... He was up to something.[/b] [i]"Roger niner, motherfūcker, delta shithead, do you copy?"[/i] [b]Static. Damien twisted a side nob and flipped a lever, holding the radio up to the sky until the static fizzled in a high pitched feedback noise.[/b] [i]"I ASKED, DO YOU FŪCKING COPY?!"[/i] [i]"Fūcking stop!"[/i] [b]Came the unfamiliar voice, much to Damien's pleasure. It sounded feminine.[/b] [i]"I need an airdrop."[/i] [i]"It's four in the morning..."[/i] [i]"Not where I am."[/i] [b]A few short grunt and hurried steps later, a distant clicking noise began to pick up.[/b] [i]"Got a lock. Inbound in thirty."[/i] [i]"Thirty what?"[/i] [b]Bang![/b] [b]Damien toppled over as the large metal crate slammed into him, still smoldering from bursting through the atmosphere.[/b] [i]"Milliseconds."[/i] [i]"Ya... Got it... Thanks, Cleo."[/i] [i]"Don't call again."[/i] [b]Damien sighed as he pushed the box off his chest, sitting up only to find the box o the wrong side. What followed was a got five minutes of trying flip the damn case, each movement accompanied by an unnecessary grunt.[/b] [b]By the time it had been opened, Damien looked like he was about ready to pass out. Some would have equated it to his new revival... But he was actually just lazy. However, the gear inside... Well... It was worth it.[/b] [i]"Ian... I'd like to introduce you to my Cannon Rifles. They shoot thirty eight millimeters."[/i] [b]Damien pulled out the massive gun, the size about half of his body. It was large and bulky, with a massive clip and grip. Looked like the most impractical [url=https://i.imgur.com/6y7BcsM]war machine[/url].[/b] [i]"I got two... Want one?"[/i]
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[i] Ian burst out laughing as the crate slammed into Damien and sent him sprawling, eyes widening as he pulled the massive gun out of the crate.[/i] "Why do you need that..?" [i] He questioned, but shook his head.[/i] "But I'll pass. Save it for someone who won't get knocked flat on their ass from firing it." [i] Ian said with a chuckle. Damien was all kinds of weird..of course he had two thirty-eight millimeter massive guns. [/i]
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[i]"Ummm, when do you not need a Cannon Rifle?"[/i] [b]Damien chuckled and chucked the weapon back in its case, closing the lid as he tuned the radio back on, setting it to the side. It would transmit a constant ping to Lucien... And that's all he needed.[/b] [i]"Now we wait. Now, as for the real reason I need the guns... Creed regenerates based on how much damage done. If I can turn him into scrap, it'll be awhile before he gets back up. Then I can reverse his chemical bond and burn him for good... Guns make life easier."[/i]
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"Don't touch him. His armor secretes something called Midnight Blood; a neurotoxin. I punched him in the face and my hand apparently was going to rot, until he gave me a cure for it." [i] He says wryly.[/i] "If I was a big badass I would've let my hand fall off and keep the cure for analysis and reproduction, but I don't have balls like that. A mechanic is no good with one hand." [i] He says sourly. [/i]
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[i]"It's a good thing you aren't a badass. You are a man, and stood up to a monster. Besides, Creed is bound to have more than one cure... Besides, you just provided me with the greatest piece of info to combat that fūck. There's a Midnight Rain cure... One that doesn't cause molecular collapse."[/i] [b]Damien seemed happy, much more than upset. The only reason he would be unhappy is because Ian punched a massive block of steel on legs. Kid had guts, but maybe not so much foresight.[/b]
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"I guess that counts for something then. Too bad I didn't think about it at the time, a cybernetic hand might've been kinda cool." [i] He says jokingly. What killed him was the fact he hadn't thought about it at the time. They could've had the cure to Midnight Rain, and it would've only meant a cybernetic hand for him. A limb that would've been more applicable then the one he had right now.[/i]
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[i]"Maybe. But they are painful. You'll need constant medication, tune ups, and it needs to be washed daily to prevent infection. If anything, you want a bio material limb."[/i] [b]Damien had studied the medical and cellular field back in his day, which had yielded great results. Hell, he could bring people back from the dead. It had a high cost, but it was a massive breakthrough.[/b] [i]"Just be glad... Plus, chicks dig real skin."[/i]
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[i] Ian shrugged. No sense in discussing it, What's done was done. Who better to take advice from than someone who was made up of like forty percent metal? Ian flushed as dark red as his hair at the mention of women, consider the woman that came to mind happened to be Damien's daughter.[/i] "Yeah.." [i] He said quietly.[/i] "How are you gonna deal with this new thing Lucien stuck you with? The idea that you have to feed on living things.."
