(Me) Lol, same here. And cool. I kind of figured Deimos had changed mindsets. Call me morbid, but I’m curious what will happen if he takes the blindfold off, though I doubt any of the other characters would appreciate that.
—The dice is fairly simply, you just grab a d20, though any type of die works, roll, and type the result. Whoever rolls higher hits or dodges, depending on what we’re rolling for. But, anyway, figured I’d let you know, hell we could even flip a coin. I’m casual, regardless.
—Yeah, it’s official, I like all of your characters, though Deimos is still my favorite. Don’t mind me.
(The AI) The AI attacking Deimos pauses at the sight of him catching the bullet. It recalculates and calls for reinforcements. When Deimos reappears behind him, it understands that it has been outwitted and decides not to risk the collective, shutting itself off. Its body collapses lifelessly on the ground, turning grey.
—The near headless AI’s head repairs, though its movements still seem slow, even glitchy. It watches its surroundings carefully, understanding that its calculations were inaccurate. It disconnected from the collective to avoid confusing the others, its skin turning grey like the other two.
—Six AI split from the group, three heading for Deimos, the other three targeting Gerard. The three targeting Deimos move swiftly to surround him, both hands becoming cannons that whir as they charge. They aim and shoot, six balls of green energy flying for Deimos. The three watch closely, waiting for the reaction to the paralytic energy.
—The three heading for Gerard charge. They have discovered him to be the source of the called demonic creatures and agreed he was the greater danger.
—The grey AI targeting Lucitius shoots a black arrow with a glowing red tip. It continues to approach, calculating multiple times to check for malfunctions.
(Lucitius) He blasts the portal with a powerful wave of electricity and the arms disintegrate, blue nearly dominating the portal. A weak grin breifly appears on his face.
—The arrow hits him in the back, tearing through his chest. The tip explodes, decimating his chest, and the back half of the arrow flies through the hole and into the portal.
—Lucitius gasps, choking and sputtering, then collapses. His hands rip a chunk from the gate, exposing the black edge of the portal. Blue blood almost instantly pools underneath him, his empty eyes stare upward.
(Malcolm) He watches Lucitius collapse, glad the bastard was dead, but his eyes quickly refocus on the destabilizing portal.
“Shit. Hopefully it’ll implode instead of explode, otherwise this whole place will blow.”
He breathes deeply, noting the approach of Deimos.
“Well, maybe it’ll take him out before me.”
He snorts.
(The Grey AI) It walks toward Lucitius and looks down. There was no way the organic creature could have survived that. However, it quickly recalculates as those empty eyes turn to it, a weak glare in them.
(Phalakros) He witnesses the skeleton hands disappear and the power rising in him retracts, waiting in the background. He breathes a sigh of relief, until Lucitius collapses.
—The power surges upward and Phalakros teleports to the portal, shrieking a haunting sound that shouldn’t be able to come from his throat. He slashes at the Grey AI, simultaneously cutting it in half and decapitating it with his now black claws. He turns to the portal, one eye black, the other green, his hair and hands slick and smoking with tar.
—He grabs the gate’s edge, using strength that was not his to pull the edges together. He places a hand on the gap and the tar dripping from his scales coats the gap and hardens into a strange metal. The portal instantly changes to black.
—He lets go, turning to Lucitius, hesitating. He struggles to regain control of his body, the barely living creature before him a tempting meal. As one foot moves forward, he suddenly grabs his hair and screams in utter terror, ichor streaming from his black eye and maroon tears from his green.
—Chunks of slick hair appear in his hands, though he is oblivious to them. He stares at Lucitius, a forked tongue smothered with ichor flicking out of his mouth. More of the liquid starts to stream from his mouth, nose, and ears. His other eye starts turning black and a throaty, gurgling laugh begins.
(Grey AI) Strings of nanobots reach from its three pieces. The malfunctioning eye is now nonfunctional, and its other eye is starting to malfunction. Calculation was impossible, movement was barely possible. Should it shut off or finish its task?
The strings grab each other, pulling the pieces together and starting to mend them.
(Lucitius) He groans as his severed spine reattaches itself. Sensation returns to his body, though he wishes it hadn’t. Unconsciousness nearly takes him again, but he pushes through the agony, searching for something familiar, tangible, to ground himself on.
—His lung and heart stitch themselves back together and he gasps for breath. His flesh regrows and he finally registers the sight of the Grey AI. He glares, but his eyes widen when it suddenly falls apart and Phalakros appears.
—No! No, not Phalakros! Not his dear Phalakros! Was this the true effect of that possession incident long ago? Was Phalakros one of Them, a denizen of the Tar Plane?
—He hears the portal stabilize and he moans. He was too weak, too dazed. He would rather blow up than try fighting the terrible creatures of the Tar Plane. Especially Phalakros.
(The Gate) Black hands reach forth, first two, then four, then eight. They claw at the edge of the portal, reaching for escape, reaching for their brother emerging in the body of Phalakros.
—The portal flickers, still unstable, and the hands disintegrate. But, more hands replace the lost ones, as the Tar Plane had an infinite supply of twisted souls seeking escape.
(Malcolm) He sighs as Phalakros repairs the gate, then again when arms reach out from it.
“I hate organics.”
He stands up, dusting himself off, and looks at Deimos.
“I stopped caring decades ago. If you’re the one to kill me, then actually hit your mark. Otherwise, I’d focus on that portal there, for your sake, not mine.”
He turns to the lone AI next to him.
“Well, this turned to shit, didn’t it?”
He sighs irritably when the AI doesn’t acknowledge him.
“I hate everything.”
He grabs his pistol and fiddles with it. If he was going to die, he was going out fighting, and he could give a shit if he was fighting a human or a beast like Deimos.
(Me) I’ve been coin flipping a lot
