Dormus Executes's Story

Dormus approaches the entrance, his face covered by his mask and his eyes a dark red. His mask was not like other masks, it did not cover his mouth, but rather made a shadow around the front of his face, the hood made it so the only visable thing was his dark gloomy eyes, he surveys whats around him and continues moving on, wondering: "How the hell did I end up here?."

takes a look around the surrounding area, he places his shiv into one of his infinite pockets and leaps down form the building he was on, landing with nearly no sound. HE meandered about looking for the perfect opportunity to get something shiny, specifically meaning he wants to rob something or someone.

A tall, narrow figure walks up the street. He wears a dark red poncho with a high wide collar and dusty brown leather trousers and black boots on a pair of long, skinny legs. On his hips and thigh he has various pouches and a knife strapped on with black belts and straps of leather. Over the rim of the collar shows a wild mob of longish, pale hair and sharp, light gray eyes under a frown.

He walks straight ahead, then stops. Almost hesitantly he looks around, taking in his surroundings with a slightly puzzled look.

Dormus was wandering about these planes, he seems to have attained some sort of random teleportation abilities after the incident back in Oren. His outfit was made to survive harsh environments such as this weather. Or atleast it does now since he got a upgrade during transport for whatever reason. He walks through the snow trudging along the think snow surveying the area. Barren wasteland, Wasteland, Wasteland, and what else? More wasteland. Until he saw some structure, and then a room, the teleportation residue was still lingering and he saw two figures a girl and a guy it had sparked for some reason and warped him into this place leaving a hefty scorch mark behind him. "This residue is truly a pain...Hello random set of people, where exactly am I?" He says wiping off some snow off his clothing, his mask shrouding his face in darkness, unnaturally so, seeming like its enchanted.

Aislynn turns, and regards the wardrobe as though it has been put upon the planet to taunt her. She stomps across to the worn wooden monstrosity and grabs the handle, pulling her weight against it before wrapping her thin fingers in thick, moth-eaten blankets. She was most of the way back to the bed, fully intending to do what Edward asked of her when there was a smell of... of what? Scorched wood and ozone, a scent unfamiliar, and sharp in this place of dust and musk.

Immediately, Aislynn's eyes are wide and she casts a quick glance towards the bed, and Edward's battered form. With both legs and an arm broken, she knows fine well that he's in no condition to leap to their defence as he has in the past. And yet... today of all days, she lacks the energy reserves necessary to make effective action. No whispers invade the mind of their intruder, no items cast themselves from the walls at it's skull. Instead the thin, waif-like creature reaches out and grabs the thick, wooden-based lamp from the bedside table, a yank on the frayed powercord that came free from the plug obediently. Slowly, too slowly for her liking, she raises it like a bat. "Don't know." She tells the stranger with a cold, hostile tone. "But you should keep going."

“Like she says. Keep going.”

Summoning the last of his precious energy reserves Edward pulled himself up from the bed, displaying the ruination brought onto his body. With a grim expression set on his face, he managed to stand braced against the maggot-eaten bed post.

“She did most of this.” He indicated the casts wrapped around two of his limbs and encasing his chest, highlighting the steady trickle of blood emanating from under the plaster cuirass. "I wouldn't mess with her." Edward fixed the shadowy figure with his pale blue eyes, allowing all the years of battle and hardship to flood into them, delivering a classic example of the thousand yard stare.

Despite his incapacitation, it would be outwardly clear that he'd killed men for much less, and would be quite prepared to do so again in defence of his diminutive chance. As he dropped his gaze, he caught a glint of blued steel winking down behind the headboard. If only he could reach it.

The sound of movement is not what turned Aislynn's head, though she is half-afraid to look behind her and see how her companion has managed to lever himself upright on broken bones, and pulled and ripped muscles, even as casted as they are. She tries not to envisage the damage he is doing to himself in that instant, and instead keeps her eyes on their intruder.

He does not seem to be one of Them. Every one of Them that she has come against since clawing her way free from under their hand has been imbued with a sense of purpose that was difficult to ignore. It had, in fact, become her way of watching for them in crowds as their burning desire marked them out from the others around them. She had seen it in the cafe when Edward and she had first met, and felt it from the one who had loped up the frozen slopes to catch them unawares in the cabin. This... man... seemed different.

But it meant nothing. To have one different from the others did not mean that his power was not already winding it's way around their minds, coiling like a serpent... she almost does glance at Edward at the thought. Minds were like bones in that respect, they took precious time to heal and were fragile during the process, even if they did, eventually, come out stronger for the mending. Another invasion of his mind might not leave much of the spy behind...

Edward's comment about his injuries slices through her like a knife and she flinches... it is that tiny action that makes the borrowed jeans bump against her leg, the pocket heavy with a foreign object.. no, she realises, not foreign. She does not look back to the strange individual, or the scorch-mark he'd left behind. Instead, in one moment, she twists and drops the heavy lamp she'd picked up, reaches into her pocket with one hand, and lurches towards Edward in one frantic moment.

In the fraction of a second before her body connects, more solidly than she'd intended with the heavily-bound Edward, before her thumb pushes down on the little red button in her pocket, she can almost see the cafe behind her eyes. The wire rimmed spectacles that Edward had peered at her through, and it is his voice which fills her mind as all of the actions come together;

"Call it God or quantum mechanics, whatever takes your fancy. The reality is that when you press the button, it scoops you up like a tornado and spits you out somewhere else. Might not even be the same universe as the one you were in before."

And then they are gone.

The second residue flux sent him to a more precise location, not by choice though, homing onto a second source of teleportation, he was forced to fall into the same teleportation or suddenly moving one place to another nearly instantaneously. The same event hapened, he appeared in a quick shine of light leaving charred earth and scorch marks where he landed which was a few feet in front of them "Weird...The residue locks onto local transmissions..I hate all this wizardy things.." So like I said, do you know where I am? I've been wandering for ages now and keep going from place to place unwillingly, now please I would recommend you inform me of this place." He shifted his hands for a moment then they rested by his side.

Aislynn had begun to push Edward towards the door when that odd scent filled her nostrils once more. This time, however, she was ready. In the mad dash for the chair, she'd almost missed the piece of dull metal tucked under the pile of papers on the desk...

Almost.

Now, however, Aislynn DeSange stood tall, one hand hooking over Edward's slumped shoulders to guide his body into hers, her feet planting themselves firmly against the cracking concrete as her free hand dives into the back of her jeans, between her thin back and the belt she'd borrowed to bind the clothing to her, and pulls the weapon free. There is nothing spectacular about the piece, it does not glisten or shine with any great love to it. It is not delicate or finely made... it is, simply, what it is. A method of removing another being's life into nothingness. In this case, given it's heft, possibly nothingness with several feet of fine crimsons spray behind it. Thin arms have no problem lifting the metal, however, and unseen hands gently wrap around her own, a whisper of energy borne of fear and anger lending her just a little more.

"Leave Us Alone." It is spoken like a command, and as if to accompany the comment the hammer slides back, and the safety clicks off... without her fingers shifting from their original position. Within moments the weapon would be ready to fire, and the dull light in Aislynn's eyes speak as bloody testament to the fact that now, pursued, as she sees it, across the world... she will fire. "Now."

"I have no choice, the residue...Oh right, you probably are unaware of it, and for the record you could have been dead ten seconds ago while you were drawring the weapon, got to watch out, or else I would have thrown a pretty hefty knife at you" He shows a medium sized throwing knife which he got while he shifted his hands beforehand. "Now, I think I'll hang out with you two for a bit, since I'm bored, you seem to have a stick in your ass, and the teleport residue keeps locking onto you tow after you did that flashy thing, and from the patterns I've seen it rotates positions every 5-8 minute so I will teleport somewhere around you two every 5 through 8 minutes" He sheaths the throwing knife in one of his pockets and looks over to them "So where are we heading?" He asks.

Weakened from his injuries and the stresses put onto them, there was little Edward could do besides loll against the office chair's tattered upholstery, rivulets of blood forming little streams and tributaries across the textured surface of his casts.

A hacking cough ripped from his lungs, blood spattering the pavement at the stranger's feet. As it subsided, Edward raised his head and spoke. “We don't want any trouble. Just walk away.”

He slumped back into the chair, his unbound arm curling protectively around his abdomen, the pain now visible on his ashen features.

(Accidental double post)

Aislynn's gaze didn't waver as the other individual reaches down and brings out a knife. In a moment, her thoughts weigh the situation. If they remain in the street, Edward would die. Hell, they might both die, if the man waving the knife around was one of Them, which seemed more likely now than it had before. Why else would he follow? Why else would he stay, rather than turn his body around and walk... No. The more her mind turns on it, the less doubt she has.

He is one of Them.
They meant to kill her, and Edward, or worse.

There is an explosion of gunfire, one which does little to rock her diminutive form despite the size of the pistol in her hand, as three strong, invisible hands work to steady it. She can feel the slow drain upon her resources, using what little adrenaline is left within her system to give them form and agency. They'd shifted her aim, looking for a kneecap or thighbone when the shot had rang out, however within moments it would be retrained upon the individual in question.

"Then you stay." She says, her voice cold. "Or I'll kill you."

Her hand reaches down, and Edward would find the chair shoved with greater strength than the young woman still possessed within her towards the doorway, while Aislynn herself kept her feet planted and her gun trained. She didn't need the skills of a highly trained agent, indeed, even a decent hunter. These streets had been littered with the gang-land types, men who lived and died with guns in their hands. Police, who battled them with similar weapons. It took barely any energy to open her mind to them, to let them flow through her body and steady her hand, correct her stance, alter her aim. Her eyes are not entirely her own as she surveys him, calculating if, perhaps, this was enough of a message to get her point across.

His heightened dexterity allowed him to dodge even the fastest bullets if he could predict that he would be shot at. "Second issue, that stick up your ass, might want to get it checked, and secondly you are very sloppy and I can tell you want to kill me to protect your boyfriend, though I'm wondering if you can deal with a dead man in you conscious, answer me, could you kill someone in cold blood who has not even attempted to wound you?" He walked a bit closer and raised his hands in the air "Nothing up my sleeves, no worrie-" The sentence was cut off by him teleporting, not to far, but right them leaving more scorch marks and charred ground. "I'm really a getting annoyed with this..."

His vision began to grey as the blood began to pool on the cracked concrete pavement, spreading out from the chair's splayed wheels towards Aislynn's feet. Unable to hold himself upright, he began to topple sideways, his unbound arm hooking around the backrest in a vain attempt to prevent him from falling to the ground.

“'Slynn...” He groaned, the plaster covering his chest splitting as it collided with the concrete. His head snapped forward, cracking audibly against the kerb. He lay spread-eagled in the pool of blood, his pale chest now visible through the broken bindings, dozens of incisions criss-crossing their way across his abdomen and pectorals, some split open and leaking vital fluid onto the ground.

“Help...” Time seemed to speed up, his mind turning over the events of the past months, from the cafeteria to the bunker where he and Aislynn had spent their last peaceful moment. He held onto that thought as he slipped into the darkness.

Aislynn's aim never wavered, the ghosts that lined these streets, the echoes of life that were etched into the stones of the buildings themselves shifted her hand as quickly as her opponent set foot upon the concerete beneath him. In a moment, however, it became inconsequential, as Edward's body pitched forwards onto the concrete.

Aislynn's body twisted suddenly as she attempted to catch Edward before he hit the pavement. There is a small sound of distress that breaks free of her throat as she tries to at least roll Edward more towards her, but finds his unconscious body and plaster too much. So she does all that she can, the only thing she can. Her hand finds the small box, with it's small, smooth button, and batters against it in a moment of desperate hope.

Light flashes, and they are gone.

The jet banked around the city, heading towards the port. If any denizens of the city looked closely, they would see several small drones buzzing around the aircraft like bees.

Solinus City seemed quiet for the most part. Life going on. Though the Terra Nova military still was seen often making it way through traffic or flying over head they most kept to the fort and watchtowers or as the guards of Emperess Electra's palace. It was of no concern of a jet entering the port until the towers picked up the drones around it. Finding this odd Two TLA Viking fighters broke off of their normal patrol route to take a closer look.

Shaunie Macadden appears with VAPORIZE in their civilian class vehicle.