plot } the creatures descend.

[synergismus]

Who: Everyone!
What: Creatures descend!
Where: All across the city, although attacks will be most fervent at its heart.
When: Friday/Veerdi evening and into the week.
Notes: Slow and back-tagging is, as always, permitted. If you are confused, look at these two posts for more information.
Warnings: Violence, creepiness, swearing knowing these characters.

On Veerdi, the presence of the creatures reaches a fever pitch. Something has provoked them into launching an all-out assault, though it is one that begins slowly. The pipe-crawlers, generally harmless though they may be, are seen across homes in Baedal, sneaking up through the pipes and into bathtub drains or sinks. They come by the dozens, and their keening makes most homeowners nauseated--but it's their appearance that leads to a number of distressed Network calls.

This is just the distraction for the rest.

The call of the crawlers draws in the armored, sickly creatures with the tiny primates carried inside of it. They are inelegantly lumbering, but much faster than one might expect, and certainly hostile. They trudge across the city, barreling over anyone who gets in their path and leaving them half-crushed in the street. They're certainly unsettling in their obvious unhealthiness, and the disease-ridden animals they carry are downright vicious, especially once they escape (messily, bloodily) from their fleshy cage.

It's the birds that are the worst, though; the cleverest, and the cruelest.

These strange black birds are resistant to typical attacks and flying in large groups. They descend on pedestrians, picking at their eyes and faces, ready to rapidly tear flesh from bone until there's nothing left but skeletal remains. They fly out of range when they can, only to divebomb anyone who might think they've escaped.

Comments

[tropfatale.livejournal.com]

Oh, she remembers this guy.

Sonja has classified Kriv in her head as a brawler, a size guy--extremely good in an old-fashioned battle, probably less so with anything that's just about killing as efficiently as possible. She's willing to be proven wrong, but she's used to making snap judgments and relying on them.

So she's almost not surprised about this confrontation. She gives him a wry once-over look.

"If I knew where it was, I would be killing it." But on cue, over the horizon trundles the oversized, sickly armadillo. "Ah. There's your ride."

[scorpiontongue.livejournal.com]

It is not a bad assumption, all things considered. One who resorts to brute force by choice is not always easily told apart from one who resorts to brute force because he cannot think of anything else.

Kriv bristles visibly at her first declaration with a look on his face that could not be any more blatantly get your own damned prey, I saw it first! if he were holding a giant sign in place of a weapon. But when his quarry stumbles back into view his mood (such as it is) visibly improves.

"You waste your time prodding at corpses!" he calls out, vanishing and then reappearing on the thing's back in a whirl of smoke to slip the glaive-blade between heavy armored plates. "'tis the living that are worthwhile!"

Because if examining the crows is all he saw her doing when he showed up, clearly that's what she's up to in this chaos. Perhaps a new warlock spell is in order: Caiphon's Leap to Conclusions.

[tropfatale.livejournal.com]

Sonja's reaction (if Kriv cares to notice) is one of general amusement, despite her blood-splattered appearance; the smoke-whirl is a neat trick, but she's swiftly distracted. A flock of the dire crows reappear to the east, blackening the sky and eying the two individuals on the street.

She raises her eyebrows at Kriv, otherwise unmoving. What you gonna do with 30 half-invincible crows, expert?